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Don’t want to be near those two!

Rutenga, Masvingo, Zimbabwe

24 September 2013

Arrive Bannockburn station in the early hours. Very small station in the middle of nowhere judging by the hour’s drive along Zimbabwean strip roads to the main metalled road. Overhear one of the Canadians telling the train manager to put them on another mini-bus, “I don’t want to be near those two!” pointing to his fellow Canadian travelling companions. It’s My Little Warthog and wife. All is not well in the Canadian camp it seems.

Elderly Canadian woman asks if the village is named after the famous battle of Bannockburn. She turns to me and says “That’s a bit before your time.”. She prods her fan in my ribs when I cheekily ask, “Yes……but was it before your time?”

Bannockburn station

Cheeky young man.

Nearly 3hrs drive to Great Zimbabwe. First hour along strip roads. Not quite dirt track. Two strips of tarmac about a foot wide and a car width apart. In theory you drive on the tarmac strips. Except they’re in poor condition so often have to drive on the dirt track. Either way it’s not a smooth ride.

Great Zimbabwe Hotel consists of thatched buildings and reminds me of the Cott Inn at Dartington, Devon. Photos show HM Queen and D of E, Princess Di and Mandela as having been guests here. Instructed not to talk about politics as the hotel is a well known meeting place for Zanu PF party members. Which explains the large black BMW & Mercedes cars sitting in the car park.

Great Zimbabwe is an 11th century royal palace complex. Steep half hour climb to the top of Great Zimbabwe. Great views. One woman asks, “Do you feel spiritual up here?”. No. Feel hot, knackered and hungry. Is the reply. Steep climb down again. Great Enclosure is…..well….a great enclosure. Built of grey stones. Basically an 11m high dry stone wall.

Golden sunset enroute to Rutenga station passing impressive rock formations.

A pain in the backside

Somabhula, Zimbabwe

23 September 2013

Another freezing night on the train. Day at Antelope Park activity lodge run by whites. A well organised affair. Greeted by tea and biscuits on the lawn served in those old cream and green enamel teapots your Great Aunt might have had in the 60s/70s. Could quite easily be an English summer fete – were it not for the elephants on the lawn.

Walking with lions. Safety briefing in English which is then translated for the six French. This winds the Canadians up no end. They’re not liking this translation malarky as it takes more time than it should. No one wants to be in the French bus. There’s a right old hoo-ha.

Told that if the lion handlers shout “Watch your back” it will either be a lion just passing through or it will be a lion stalking you.

Wrong way

Jolly good. If that’s the case you’re to turn and face the lion raising your stick and shout “No!” at the lion. This fazes Miss Daisy no end. Final question is “Have the lions been fed”. This fazes Miss Daisy again. Worried she’ll be gobbled up by mid-morning.

Assumed that these lions were smallish but when the jeep pulls up two large lions race towards us. Can see that they’re a bit big. Hmmm. Not sure about this. Hope they have been fed. Group of about a dozen walk through the bush with two lions roaming between us. Quite a spectacle but they keep racing off into the bush so the handlers have to coax them back to the group (the lions that is…..). Allowed to touch and stroke (the lions that is…..) whilst having obligatory photos. Hair is thick and wiry.

Follow up to walking with lions is feeding the lions. Wow. Never seen anything like it.

‘aving a breather

Stand behind an 8ft high chain link fence. The enclosure is empty. The holding enclosure beyond has about eight very large and mature lions running up and down the fence line waiting to enter the feeding enclosure. A metre away the other side of the fence is lion food. Abbattoir cast offs. Including one cow foetus still in the womb. Not a pretty sight before us. Door to feeding enclosure is opened and the lions race down the enclosure at breakneck speed about 50m to the line of food a metre away the other side of the fence. Dust and grit fly. Blood and guts fly. Four alpha males burst onto the food their front paws gathering up their share. Fighting breaks out for more territory. Noise of the deep roar is immense. A raw roar. Deep grunting. Can feel the power. More fighting for food. Lions lie on top of their share. Roar. Roar. Roar. All puffing and panting. Can’t eat yet as too hyper. Takes a good ten minutes before their bodies have calmed down sufficiently to enable them to start gnawing at bone and meat.

Purr

The foetus is ripped from its womb and a lion runs off with it to the shade of a tree. The foetus dangling from its mouth. Beta lions wait in the background knowing full well they’ll be attacked if they try for food. Alphas tucking into their lunch puts us off ours. Pretty gruesome.

Sedate elephant ride through the bush. Or so I thought. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Now know not to go elephant riding. Unbelievably uncomfortable. Three on each elephant. Elephant handler. Swiss woman. Me. Fortunately Swiss woman is deaf. She can’t hear my cries of pain and expletives. Cling on for dear life. Dismounting with cramp is absolute agony. Fellow female riders say the pain is comparable to childbirth. Well if that’s giving birth you can keep it. Flipping hurts. Physically damaged. Two elderly Canadian woman unable to dismount at the platform as elephant skittish. Have to dismount by being manhandled by the handlers grabbing their legs and sliding them down the side of the elephant. Camera at the ready for that “You’ve been framed” moment. Sadly, there isn’t £250 earned.

Receive email from English couple I’d met on the train from Dar Es Salam. They live and work in Nairobi. They had been in the Westgate Shopping Mall in Nairobi on Saturday when the terrorists started their killing spree.

Looking hopeful

Stuck for three hours in the mall until being rescued by security services and escaping in an ambulance. Thankfully they’re alive and well.

Train is at Somabhula station. Across the tracks is a school. We’re invited for a few songs, speeches (complete with overt hand and arm movements) and poems by the children along with a very funny sketch about sharing by three young lads. Two of the lads turn “upstage” away from their audience to continue their sketch but are quickly told by teacher in a stage whisper, “You’re facing the wrong way!”. Two lads share an apple and argue over who has the biggest half. One boy plays the wise old man – he hobbles over with stick and stooping – and takes a bite out of one lad’s half to try and equal the share but that makes the other lad’s half bigger so he takes a bite out of that…….then alternates between taking bites out of each half. Until his mouth is full of apple.

Don’t run off

And the two lads have no apple at all. The whole school and audience is laughing every time he takes a bite as he’s progressively unable to say his lines as mouth is full of apple. Very funny. Music teacher could be Floella Benjamin judging by her looks.

Two albino kids. One girl. One boy. Thought they were whites at first. Never seen an albino before. They’re like buses. You wait years to see an albino then two come along at the same time.

Do my usual running into a group of children pretending to be a monster. Arms flailing up in the their shrieking “Grrrr……rrrrr……rrrrrr”. Just like the school in Tanzania, the kids love it and run off laughing and screaming. So just have to do it some more. Fellow travellers love it. One shakes my hand and receive a round of applause from the French when I board their mini-bus. Miss Daisy tells me “You’re a wonderful person.”. Quite a few people I’ve not spoken to yet say how much they enjoyed the “monster” routine. The Swiss deaf couple even give me a sign language name – basically raise your arms in the air and shake them pulling a funny face.

That’s sign language for “Touring Taurean”.

Flipping FREEZING!!!

Bulawayo, Zimbabwe

22 September 2013

As it’s been so hot, hot, hot usually sleep with just a sheet over me. Wake at 0500hrs nearly dying of hypothermia. It’s FREEZING! A gale is blowing through window. In a “Heritage” cabin. It’s the original 1951 windows. You know. The sort that were designed before U-values. Can hear wind buffeting the carriage. Wind is so strong it’s actually swaying the carriage. Stationary in Bulawayo station. Realise just how cold it is when walking down the corridor to breakfast. The windows are open and it’s like being in a blast chiller. Flipping ‘eck. Not been this cold since the North Cape in mid-July. Definitely need a ganzy and coat today. Grey sky as well. Not used to this. For the record. It. Is. Absolutely. Flipping. Freezing. Must be 10C. Which after weeks of high 30s is a shock to the system. Believe me.

Drive through Bulawayo.

Matopos National Park

The architecture reminds me of parts of Sneinton market area in Nottingham. Which for those that haven’t been to Sneinton – looks like parts of Bulawayo. Hope that helps.

Meet up with the local tour operator. They’re all whites. Which surprises. Even they’re balking at the cold. Most unseasonal we’re told. Was really hot yesterday. Which is why they’ve bought open top safari jeeps. Ho. Ho. Ho.

Can see where this is going. There’ll be some frozen bodies by the end of the day. Spot a Land Rover with a closed cab. That passenger seat in that nice warm cab has my name on it. Bowl a few old ladies over in pursuit of said passenger seat in nice warm cab. There’s a ruthless streak in me today. I can do evil when I want. You snooze. You lose. Elderly gentleman approaches and says, “I was rather hoping my wife could sit there.” He’s pointed to another jeep the other side of the car park.

World’s View – Rhodes’ resting place

Three rows of three in the back. It’s obvious they weren’t in the Scouts and aren’t prepared for what’s about to happen. Little old ladies wearing flimsy dresses and shorts. One bloke is just wearing shorts and t-shirt. It’s freezing cold in the car park. They’re shivering now. And then we drive off to Matopos National Park. Along a main road. At 50mph. For half an hour. In an open top safari jeep. Have no idea how cold it is on that open top jeep at 50mph as I’m nice and toastie in this closed cab. They’re all huddling together. Like penguins in an Antarctic gale. And then. A twinge of guilt. It starts raining. Think of driving across Dartmoor in winter with low, grey cloud. That’s the scene. There’ll be a few dying of hypothermia by the time we reach our destination. Driver is the local Scoutmaster and the Scout camp we pass is near where Baden-Powell and Kipling fought at the end of the 19^th Century. Quite a historical region by all accounts.

Matopos is where Cecil John Rhodes is buried.

Rhodes’s grave

Grave sits atop a hill called World’s View. Surrounded by large 3-4m diameter stone spheres. Actually created by erosion but they look as though they’ve been carefully placed in-situ by a crane as they encircle Rhodes’ grave perfectly. Incredibly windy and cold at the top. Much like being on the back of an open top jeep. I imagine. Quick stop at the White Rhino rock paintings.Painted by indigenous bushmen between 10,000 – 40,000 years ago. In immaculate condition. So much so they could’ve been painted yesterday such is the richness and condition of the red paint.

It’s another half hour drive at 50mph back to Bulawayo. But it’s warmed up slightly and they’ve found a tarpaulin to drape over the roof. It makes no difference though. Takes about an hour to thaw out apparently.

Lunch at the Churchill Hotel. Mock Tudor. It could be in any town in England. Waiter has won the Zimbabwean “Service Personality of the Year 2013”. Look at the photo and you’ll see his name.

Natural History Museum is a museum of a museum. Looks like it was built in the 60s and not been updated or dusted since. Has an excellent display on Rhodes, however.

Final stop is the Railway Museum. Not as good as expected but has the original Rhodesian Railway carriages from the 1950s. Which is what we’re actually travelling on. Sure that the guide said meet at bus at 1635hrs. At 1630hrs the curator shouts out to me, “They’re waiting”. On the Swiss bus today. Apparently it was 1625hrs. 5 minutes late. One Swiss gent taps his watch and says in German (which I understand) “You’re late. It was 25 past back at the bus!”. They’re not laughing. Crikey. Someone’s being keeping tabs on his cuckoo clock.

Sitting in cabin and see the curtains being blown in by about six inches caused by the icey cold draught. It’s fixed with a load of tissues shoved in all the cracks. Notwithstanding that, it’s clear the cabin is leaking like a sieve. Like sleeping in a wind tunnel.

At least they’re not moaning about the AC not working now. No. They’re moaning how cold it is now.

But we’re starving!

Dete, Zimbabwe

21 September 2013

Departed Victoria Falls last night. Good to be moving south again after a week stationary. Three weeks of travel remain. Where has the time gone? A lot smoother on the rails now we’re travelling in Zimbabwe compared to the TAZARA rail network in Tanzania and Zambia. Train speeding along quite smoothly.

Alarm call at 0500hrs. For an 0600hrs departure to a game reserve. Except the train is late. By nearly an hour. Could’ve slept more. Open safari jeeps to Wankie National Park. Everyman for himself. Being the youngest and nimblest jump onto the back seat high up Spiderman like by legging it up using the rear wheel and over the side. (You’d be impressed if you saw how nimble I was).

Downtown Dete – like Tromso on a Sat night

It’s the one seat with loads of leg room for my giraffe like frame. The proper way is to use the small steps on the outside of the jeep to enter the middle row and then climb over one of its fold down seats to enter the back row. Rather large lady decides she’ll sit on the back row. Next to me. It’s a minor miracle she does it. Of Laurel & Hardy type antics.

Spend the next 4-5hrs driving along dirt tracks looking for wildlife. Like Selous National Park it’s a case of drive around aimlessly and hope for the best. A few elephant and giraffe are the highlight but not worth sitting in a jeep for 5hrs. Annoying woman keeps stopping the jeep at every impala and kudu she sees. It’s OK for the first few times if you’ve never seen impala or kudu but you soon realise that one impala looks like the next and there is simply no need to stop. Every. Single. Time.

‘aving a brew

It’s the same woman that had a hissy fit at the Botswanan border over some petty issue. She’s rapidly climbing up the punching charts. Her fellow citizens are even getting fed up of this routine but can’t really say anything as they’re all from the same “community”. It’s left to me to chivy things along. Driver is told to keep moving every time she asks to stop for an impala. Her friend who is sitting next to me keeps whispering, “Thank you, thank you.”. It’s hot. Very hot. Had enough of this rigmarole and thinking to myself that what I really want now is to go to the lodge for lunch find a nice cold air-conditioned room with a TV showing the Singapore F1 qualifying. Knowing full well life wouldn’t be that kind. Except. Today. It is. And it’s the BBC live feed. What more could you ask.

More power cuts on the train. Candle lit dinner. No AC. Stifling. Roasting hot. All the jet lagged tourists are moaning.

Peck peck

With the heat and everything else they’re finding wrong on the train – minor things like no running water (no pumps), no AC, the hair dryer doesn’t work, there’s a mosquito in my cabin – it’s all getting a bit fractious. Due to the numbers, dinner consists of two sittings. There’s a scrum each night for first sitting. The Canadians sit in the bar car by the door patiently waiting half an hour beforehand to get their place in the queue. The Swiss pull up a few minutes before and stand by the door before charging in ahead of the sitting Canadians. They only get away with it the once. A couple arrive in the dining car as soon as two people from the first sitting leave. They’re meant to wait until the dining car has been re-set. They’re told this and that second sitting isn’t for another half hour. “But we’re starving!” she screams. They’re also rapidly climbing up the punching charts. Never seen a bunch of travellers like it before. Must be the heat.

Do you mind if we smoke?

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

20 September 2013

It’s only been two days since the new arrivals but there’s already a queue to punch certain little old ladies in the face. Annoying so they are. One has asked the train staff if there’ll be mosquitoes. In Africa of all places?! When told there will be she opts to stay on train for the day.

Taken to a local homestead to see how the natives live. Told it’s the real McCoy and not for tourists. Except they have a souvenir stall laid out in the meeting place. They’ve made handbags out of two 12″ vinyl records sewn together (the records forming the sides). You can walk about with the Sound of Music on your arm. Hats woven from VHS tape. Treated to a talk by the local chieftain.

Typical bush road

They live off the land. They drink pure water from a borehole. They eat proper food that is pretty much organic. They breathe pure fresh air. They’re fit and healthy. Not like us in the West. He has a point.

One of the mini-buses becomes stuck on the uphill section of the dirt track out of the village. A few of us jump out to help the other drivers push it out. Dust and grit flying about everywhere.

Interesting tour of the local crocodile farm and to see the vultures feeding again with my old mate Zulu. Meet the girlfriend of one of the guides. They want to marry. He needs 13 cows before her family will allow it. Both families met to agree the number of cows that were required. Her family started with 17 cows. His family asked if she was a virgin. No. That’s a two cow discount. Is she a good cook. No. Another two cows knocked off the price.

The Chieftain’s home

Treated to a bush dinner by the Zambezi river. Another woman asks the train staff if there’ll be mosquitoes. Down by the river. In Africa. She opts to stay on the train as well. What is it with these people?!

Short walk down a bush path to an open area in the bush. A number of elephants have just been through judging by the soft squidgy stuff some people have trodden in. With open toed sandals.

Tables of ten. Four younger (it’s all relative) Canadian women who are normal. Me. Three Swiss. Obnoxious ugly Swiss woman asks if they can smoke. Not at dinner table if you don’t mind. Please. Thank you. Why don’t you go and stand over by the fire with the other smokers? That would seem sensible and courteous wouldn’t it? No. Am told there’s no wind so the smoke will rise vertically. They all light up. Rude lot. Needless to say the smoke drifts over to our side of the table. Riled. Incensed. Look you stupid woman the smoke is drifting over to us. Don’t worry we’re told. She’ll blow the smoke up in the air. Once again the smoke drifts over to our side. She’s made to put it out. Distasteful lot.

It’s embarrassing to be Canadian

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

19 September 2013

Another trip to Chobe National Park in Botswana. It’s a repeat of what we did last week. Except there are 82 of us which means a much longer queue at the border. The Swiss try and do a bit of queue jumping on account that they’re Swiss and contribute a lot of money to Botswana. So they delight in telling us. They melt away from the main queue to enter the immigration building by another door to supposedly bypass us plebs. Soon snigger when they’re ushered out by officials and told to queue with the rest of us. Who have now shifted up to form an orderly queue. Swiss try and integrate themselves back into the queue by shoving into the front. Canadians get shirty. There’s a certain amount of tutting and standing ground to prevent Swiss from getting in first. This soon becomes a theme.

Same old boat trip as last week.

Suck

Again see elephants crossing the river at pretty much the same point as before. Still an impressive sight.

Passports and money collected at lunch so one of the guides can exit Botswana and obtain Zimbabwean visas whilst we all trundle off for an afternoon game drive. Seems highly sensible as processing 80 visas at the end of the day will take hours. Technically in Botswana without passport now.

Same old game drive as last week. Herd of elephants walk parallel to the jeep for a few hundred metres only about 20-30m away. Incredible to be so close.

Return to the border and passports complete with Zimbabwe visas returned so we can exit Botswana. No need to queue for Zimbabwean immigration now as we’re all stamped and good to go. Apart from the Swiss. Who though not needing a visa do need to be stamped in. They have to queue whilst we drive back to the train. It’s not going well for the Swiss today.

It’s rapidly becoming clear that there are, quite frankly, a number of mentally unstable women on this trip. Wonder what sort of “community” they all come from. Later learn it’s a gated community and not sure if that’s to keep people out or to keep them in?!

The power cuts continue on the train. 80 odd people turning up at once switching on AC, having showers and putting lights on overloads the system. You could probably hear the moaning from them back in Toronto. The normal Canadians tell me it’s embarrassing to be Canadian with this lot.

I’m glad I wasn’t sick on you

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

18 September 2013

Whine. Whine. Whine. Went the mosquito. Within the mosquito net covering the bed. Won’t sleep with that it in my ear. It’s midnight (at the oasis). Spend the next half hour finding and killing two mozzies that have somehow found their way through the net. Back in bed but still can’t sleep as need a final pee. Just about to switch bathroom light on when something catches my attention in the gloom. It’s the biggest spider I’ve ever seen. And it’s sitting right next to the light switch. That would’ve scared the living daylights out of me had I felt that in the dark. Incey-wincey is ushered out the door.

Meet woman at check-out who was sat opposite me on helicopter yesterday. She has great delight in saying goodbye with that well known phrase, “I’m glad I wasn’t sick on you yesterday.”. Not half as glad I as I was Mrs!

Catch hotel shuttle bus to town and ask driver if he could drop me off at the station a few hundred yards away from one of his official stops. He’s slightly hesitant and tells me it’s not really allowed but he’ll do it. Note there’s a formal “Route Authorisation” form on his dash and wonder if he’s only allowed a specific route by the authorities? Meet train staff again who seem pleased to see me again unlike, I later find out, the other guests. More of that later!

Return to the falls park as it’s included in the trip. No one has any entrance vouchers so advised to pay the USD20 and get a receipt and they’ll reimburse. Simply say to the ticket counter that I’m with Shongololo and waved through. Free of charge. Walk along the path parallel to the falls and don’t know if it’s my imagination but there seems to be more water and mist since last week. Photos are the same as last week so you’ll be spared a repeat prescription.

Walk back to the train along a footpath through the bush. There’s an elephant about 50m to my left just roaming about. Not used to that. There’s no fence or anything to stop us meeting. Apparently a herd of elephants walk along the station platfrom regularly. It’s a trunk line after all. Poor. Very poor.

Meet up again with two people from the previous tour who, like me, are doing back to back trips. Start seeing fellow travellers for the Southern Cross tour. There are 82. A large group of 27 Canadians from Toronto who are all together. A group of 15 Swiss. Assorted other Canadians, French Canadians, Germans, Australians, Dutch, New Zealanders and a lone Brit. Me. Sniff.

38C today. Train is melting. Occupants are melting. Power circuits overloaded. Plenty of power cuts. AC not working. Plenty of grumpy, jet lagged tourists. Dinner in the dark until candles are found. The moaning started as soon as they landed. The Swiss turn up a day late due to flight delays. They turn up but their bags don’t. It’ll be another couple of days before they have clean clothes. Canadians travelling together as a group are all from a “community”. But, quite frankly, they’ve all fallen off the back of a nursing home (some, a funeral parlour even). I’m the youngest by about 60 years. And I’m 43. They’re all moaning about the train.

The Swiss are a bit pushy and think they’re above everyone else. Don’t like the Swiss. Like the Luxembourgers and Belgians they’re not quite sure if they’re French or German. They’re the Inbetweeners.

Come fly with me

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

17 September 2013

I’ll be feeding the vultures now. They’re circling overhead. Follow Zulu. Meat is thrown about. He retires to a safe distance. As do I. Suddenly they all descend. It’s a scrum. Dust cloud forms. Fights beak out between Marabou storks and vultures and between vultures. Various tugs of war. Vultures gang up on a solitary stork. Get what they want. An amazing spectacle.

From one flying machine to another. Helicopter tour over the falls. 25mins of another amazing spectacle. Will let the photos do the talking (or writing as the case may be).

6 seater helicopter. We all have to be weighed. Women worry. Know my score. Weight in kilos written confidentially on a scrap of paper to be handed to loadmaster. Woman frets. It says 99. It’s upside down.

Tight fit inside. Knees rub together. It’s hot inside. Bit choppy in the chopper. I feel a bit sick. Says one woman. Sitting opposite me. Don’t do sick. That’s the last thing I need at 5,000ft.

I’ll be feeding the vultures now…….

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

16 September 2013

Check out and check in. New hotels please.

The lodge is out of town and overlooks a watering hole. Local called Zulu approaches over lunch advising everyone, “I’ll be feeding the vultures now……if you’d like to join me…..follow me.”. Lots of vultures circling overhead. Marabou storks strut their stuff at the waterhole. They join in the fray. Zulu chucks some meat onto the ground and the entire flock of vultures descend. Still feeding on my soup so shall join him tomorrow to see it up close and personal.

One of my guilty travel secrets is having a haircut in the most native hairdressers I can find. The cheapest haircut was a quid in Brasil (remember that PH & BM?).

View from room – was expecting herds of wildebeest

It’s rather more expensive here at USD12 and no negotiation. Ostrich feather duster used to sweep the floor of the light brown, slightly greying hair. It’s the usual inane hairdresser conversation except not asked if I’m on my lunch break or have I been anywhere on holiday this year (where would I start?!).

Victoria Falls Hotel is the grand old dame of the town. The old colonial hotel set in gardens overlooking the bridge and the falls. The mist rising in the distant. It would be a magnificent sight when the falls are in full flow. That would be worth seeing from this vantage point. Plenty of interesting photographs from the colonial era when, of course, it was Rhodesia. They’re serving Afternoon Tea. Don’t mind if I do. My local waiter is far too effeminate. He’s mincing good and proper. As are a few other waiters. Reminds me of that effeminate black waiter in Beverly Hills Cop.

Dinner overlooking the waterhole which is illuminated by sodium floodlights. Soon everyone is standing up away from their dinner peering into the gloom. An elephant has arrived.

Touring Taurean

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Author Archives: admin

Don’t want to be near those two!

A pain in the backside

Flipping FREEZING!!!

But we’re starving!

Do you mind if we smoke?

It’s embarrassing to be Canadian

I’m glad I wasn’t sick on you

Come fly with me

I’ll be feeding the vultures now…….

Day of rest