Category Archives: Cape to Cape

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

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

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 19th Century. Quite a historical region by all accounts.

Matopos is where Cecil John Rhodes is buried.

Rhodes's grave

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

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

‘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

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

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

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

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

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.

Day of rest

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

15 September 2013

Sunday. A day of rest.

Hot. Very hot. A local tells me later that it was 45C at the airport today. Everyone knows the melting temperature of an Englishman is 20C.

Enjoy the AC whilst updating all these blogs. They’re like buses. You wait ages for one and then they all arrive at the same time.

Shall we do it the Dutch way?

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe

14 September 2013

Wake at 0100hrs roasting hot and stuffy. Switch AC on to cool things down.

Wake at 0500hrs freezing cold. Switch AC off and pull up a blanket to warm up.

Fond farewells to everyone as they disperse back to reality. Say goodbye to the Crazy Dutch Girls. Full of English reserve am asked if I’ll do it the Dutch way. I’m a bit naive. Have to ask what the Dutch way is. Three times apparently. Twice.

Check out a couple of cabins on the train for the next trip. Am having to downgrade on account of availability when booking. Don’t do downgrades. Only upgrades. Not used to this.

You can have any colour so long as it's green

You can have any colour so long as it’s green

 

There are two cabins that have larger ensuites than others in the same class so take my pick.

Shall be staying in Victoria Falls for the next four days waiting for the next Shongololo Express tour to start – the Southern Cross trip. Travelling through Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Swaziland and South Africa to terminate at Pretoria. Four days to kill in Victoria Falls. One word. Relaxing.

Couldn’t find a hotel with 4 consecutive nights availability so have 2 nights in one hotel in the centre of town and 2 nights at a lodge 3 klicks from town. Variety is the spice of life.

Lunch on the terrace watching the smoke that thunders in the distance. Looks like the bush is on fire. A security guard patrols the lawn firing stones with his catapult at any baboons that are in the vicinity. This doesn’t stop one baboon actually jumping onto the table of a Japanese tourist and helping himself to bread whilst at the same time scaring the life out of the Japanese man who had been looking the other way when baboon landed. Must’ve jumped about 2ft in the air with surprise. It’s one of those moments you often see on hidden camera shows.

Stretch legs about town. Accosted by lads trying to sell one trillion notes – for a dollar. The former Zimbabwean currency now worthless and the US Dollar is the adopted currency. The local electrician has obviously been busy forming a spur off the street lighting main. Dodgy electrics.

Supermarket well stocked and quite upmarket. Large green bars of soap for sale. Not exactly Imperial Leather.

The first batch of blog updates start trickling through. Some people have actually been missing their daily notifications. Takes an inordinate amount of time to upload photos as the internet keeps dropping.

Don’t distract the driver

Chobe National Park, Botswana

13 September 2013

Another day. Another country. Popping into Botswana an hour away. Botswanan tour company require us to sign indemnity forms. Sign our life away.

Nothing but trees all the way. Short queue for Zimbabwean immigration. They’re actually very friendly and not what you expect. Friendlier than any other immigration official I’ve come across. Passport scanned and stamped in a matter of seconds.

Transfer through no-man’s land to Botswana border for passport scan and check. Visa free. Before returning to the jeeps it’s a requirement to disinfect your shoes for disease control. It’s a small tray of dirty liquid. More a case of it contaminating me than me contaminating Botswana.

Disinfection is made

Disinfection is made

 

The young lad driver is replaced by his small, squat, female boss who clearly thinks she’s above everyone else. You wouldn’t want to meet her in a dark alley. The jeep lurches forward and it’s apparent that the suspension, steering and tracking is shot to pieces as we wallow along the road. The woman driver takes a phone call and props phone between head and shoulder to converse. Clearly not concentrating on driving as the wallowing is exacerbated by her poor driving. There’s a great deal of weaving about. There’s a shout from the back to the driver that she’s to stop talking on the phone as the rear of the truck is fish tailing all over the place. Woman driver is indignant. How dare you distract the driver while she’s driving. It’s dangerous. Don’t you know. The cheeky little thing. Driver is now wound up and clearly got the hump and a little bit nervous. Gears are missed. It’s clear why we had to sign indemnity forms now.

Couple of hours floating on a boat along the river. Namibia one side. Botswana the other. Highlight is watching a herd of elephants cross from the shore to an island. They all cross with trunks holding the tail in front. The odd trunk coming up for air snorkel like. At the mid point they’re all pretty much submerged. An amazing sight. The bull elephant waiting on the shore until the rest have cross before he wades through.

Looking for food

Looking for food

 

The afternoon game drive follows the river but from the shore which gives a different perspective. See elephants. Not tens of elephants. Hundreds of elephants. An impressive sight.

Return to the border. Botswana is a doddle. Zimbabwe takes a bit of time. All passports collected en masse for processing. Another guide pushes in front of us with two old ladies with the excuse that they’re old ladies and can’t stand in the heat. This starts another lady off saying she’s an “old” lady as well and we end up with a game of “Top Trumps Old Ladies”. I’m 65 says one. I’m 76 says the other. 1-0.

Back on the train and having a shower and hairwash. Manage to get a bit of soap in my eye and in the process of washing it out open my eyes. It’s pitch black. Oh. My. God. I’ve gone blind. Help. The soap has made me blind.

Never smile at a.....

Never smile at a…..

 

Don’t panic. But no. It’s just another power cut. No lights. No AC. And no water pump. No water pump. Equals. No water. So there I am. Standing naked. In a dry shower. Not a pretty sight. A head full of soapy shampoo. Thinking I’ve gone blind. It’s a few minutes standing in the dark all soaped up.

BBQ dinner on the platform delayed as the local passenger train due to arrive at said platform is delayed. They don’t want a load of locals jumping off and spoiling the party. Eventually sit out under the sodium street lights. It’s like a scene from a Victorian sepia coloured photo. Entertained by local dancers with drums. Eldest is about 100 and looks like he might drop down at any moment. Clearly forgotten to put his teeth in.