Kariba

Kariba, Zimbabwe

Kariba is one of the main reasons for going into Zim. My Grandpa Corney was an engineer on the dam, and Mum spent some of her childhood here.
It is one of those places that all the family talk about, so it had to be seen.
The drive from Harare to Kariba took about 4 hours, and took us through some spectacular scenery, especially the turn off from the main road, to the winding road through the park lands. Although it was fairly dry, the trees were so beautifully coloured red and orange. We saw troops of baboons and herds of zebra...nice.
On arriving to Kariba, it felt like we had arrived at a holiday destination, significantly warmer than Harare, and everywhere had views of the beautiful lake, everything had slowed down, smiling people and much fewer people. We followed the signs to Kariba Kushinga Lodge, which was located on an outcrop adjacent to the heights, and overlooking the lake.
Although the campsite was a bit old, we were introduced to the new managers (just in the job for one day) Jan and Anita, and their family, who were fabulous,as was their Jack Russel puppy, who may have converted us into JR fans...Their other dog was sadly eaten by a croc just 3 weeks ago..(now that doesn’t happen back home).
Anita met us the next morning and offered to take us around Kariba, to look at the ‘town’ and to find the old house. We sat in the back of her backkie with her 3 daughters, ranging from 4 -14, who delighted us in their stories of moving from London to Kariba, and how much they loved it here.
We were taken to some stunning viewpoints, and up to the heights, which I guess must have been the epicentre of Kariba in days gone by. We arrived at Jacaranda Close, which is the place where Granny and Grandpa had their house... All the information I got was it was the last house in the left, and the last time anyone came to visit, the school teacher lived there... so, Glen and I climbed out and walked down the close to have a look. Fortunately, there was a lady outside one of the houses, and I just thought, ‘it’s worth a try’ and asked her if she knew where the school teacher lived.. Well, she answered...Here. So, she promptly called him out, and he explained that his predecessor also lived here, a Mr. Botha, and his name was Johnson, I explained that my Mum had spent her childhood here, and he was only too happy to show us around the garden, and pose for some photographs with me in front of the house.
I understand why everyone in my family raves on about Kariba... It is beautiful, and I also understand why Granny chose this house, as the veranda just had the most stunning view of the lake.
We had a quick look round the town, and up to the view of the dam, this had its gates open until a week before we arrived, which apparently was a truly awesome sight, we were a bit gutted that we missed that. However, the view was stunning, and I remarked at what a good job Grandpa had done.
So, back to camp, and a bit of a rest until Anita and co. came back to take us out on the lake in their boat. At about 4pm we met Jan, Anita and their youngest, Tia on their small speedboat. We spent the late afternoon/early evening game spotting...hippos, crocs, elephants, baboons, game etc from the boat. Jan was seeing how close we could get to hippos and crocs, much to the nervousness of me and Anita, as we kept pulling Tia into the boat more. Beers, biltong and great sunset ended this evening, with plans for us to meet up again tomorrow and go fishing for the Kariba Bream and famous Tiger Fish.
Kariba was amazing. Anita, Jan and family made the stay so much more also. They were just so friendly, and went out of their way to make our stay extra special. We could have stayed much longer, hell, I would have relocated there and then, but we have promised to stay in touch, and I hope to convince Mum and Dad to come out, so we can fully appreciate the experience, and maybe even go out for a couple of days on one of the houseboats.
I have no doubt that Kariba is somewhere that we come back to. It is magical. The people, the climate, the views, the dam, the stories, the wildlife....it is, just for me, the highlight of our trip so far.

Antelope Park

Lion and Cheetah Park Harare

Harare: When you are not waiting!

Harare: when you are not waiting

We are based at Small World Backpackers, Avondale, which is a small suburb northwest of the city. From here we can walk to the shops at Avondale, which are quite pleasant, unless you get distracted whilst shopping for cheese. Avondale is a 20 min walk into town or a taxi ride for $5

The backpackers provides refuge for all sorts of travellers that are coming though Zimbabwe, and we have met lots of interesting people here. We have taken a room here, and enjoy the benefits of a real bed, and our own shower, and make good use of the kitchen but t $45 it isn’t the cheapest break.

We have visited the National Archives in the far northern suburbs, and for a person interested in the history of Zimbabwe, it is a must, Glen was in heaven. I, however, enjoyed looking at their comprehensive archive of photographs of ‘Old Zimbabwe’ when the colonials were here.

The Lion and Cheetah Park is a must see. It consists of 3 areas:

1. A small lion game park you can drive through that has 5 male lions in it. Here you literally have lions only a meter away from you, and you can really appreciate the size of these majestic beasts. Surrounding this area, are 2 other enclosures containing lions and lionesses.

2. Another game park, a kilometre long, containing zebras, wildebeests, ostriches, baboons, and a variety of deer.

3. Lastly, a zoo area.

Although, a bit dilapidated this is an amazing experience. We paid our entrance fee of $10, and made our way to the Lions. Windows firmly closed, we drove in through a rusty gate, and sat in the car next to these creatures. Wonderful. Huge lions with their red manes, just a breath away from us, going about their daily routine. Just an honour to be so close to such an amazing creature.

From there we made our way past the other lions to the game park. Ostriches running in front of us like drag queens late for their show, and a real zebra crossing. A small park, but great for viewing.

Then to the zoo. I am not too keen on zoos, but this privately own zoo is just so unique it is a must see. We were greeted by a friendly guide, who took us to meet Tommy, a Galapagos Tortoise who was approximately 300 years old, and who had been at the park for 45 years. As big as a coffee table, we were allowed to scratch his neck. He graced us with his company until he decided it was to time to go to bed, so he ambled off to his own ronval house and took to his bed.

We were then escorted through the zoo to meet the many residents: more lions, cheetahs, crocodiles, hyenas, jackels and much more. The animals here are hand raised, and many come from a disadvantaged backgrounds, for example the jackel was a victim of a hit and run, and came to the park to give it a second chance, as it sustained a leg injury, that would have surely marked the end of its days in the wild.

The lions are hand reared, so, they can be used for walking with lion’s tours, education, and movie work. We were fortunate enough to actually go in and meet two 11 month males; to get up so close is just so incredible.

Faradales, the Selfridges of Zimbabwe, was a bit of a disappointment. Once the flagstore of Zimbabwe, located in a lovely colonial building in the centre of Harare, it has been relocated to a suburban mall in Barrowsdale, and is hard to distinguish between any other camping/ shooting store. It was a pilgrimage for Glen as the legend that is John Simpson always goes there when he is in Zimbabwe to buy his shoes. So, off we went, and spent an afternoon in the suburbs. Barrowsdale is a glimpse into what Harare probably once was, clean, organised and predominately white.

Although we have been stuck in Harare, and are incredibly frustrated, we have met some amazing and positive people. Our troubles are so small in comparison to what they have all gone through. The hyper inflation of 2008 left so many with nothing, lives have been rebuilt, again and again. Hopes have been raised and dashed...but yet, the overall outlook is one of optimism. You walk down the street, and always are welcomed with a smile, and a greeting. When I tell people of Mum’s history here, and that we are going to Kariba, I have been again and again welcomed Home. Even yesterday our taxi driver implored us to come and live here, as ‘our country need people like you’. We pointed out that the current government weren’t too keen on the British, and he replied that his government, the peoples government wanted us there, which we thought was a lovely sentiment.

The Heart of Harare

The Heart of Darkness Harare

So, we have now been in Harare for 2 weeks, and judging by how today went at the embassy, we will be here for another week. Aghhhhhhhh!!!!

We arrived on the last Thursday in June, time to stop, apply for our Angolan visa, and prepare for the trip ahead. Of course we arrived in the dark of night, but found a suitable backpackers...little did we know it would become like a home for us!

Friday morning, armed with all possible relevant paperwork, we ventured to the Angolan Embassy (Doncaster House, Speke Ave... an address that will be forever etched in my brain)... The lady behind the counter explained to us that we:

a. Needed to be a Zimbabwean resident to apply or a visa

b. We required a letter of invitation to Angola

We were and had neither... So, she suggested that this could be overcome by us writing a letter for ourselves, explaining the trip we wanted to take, and why we needed the visa....Simple!

So, back we trot to the backpackers, so get all sorted. Stopping at the supermarket to restock on the way...This turned out to be the biggest mistake we have made so far on the trip. I had packed my bag with all the vehicle papers, the carnet, maps and books to explain our route, and to justify the need for the visa... I had also packed Glen’s hard drive, as I wanted to print off another blog from a couple that had completed a similar route that we wanted to take.

So, we were in the dairy aisle looking at cheese possibilities, when some guy came up to Glen, and asked him the difference between white and yellow cheese. A simple and stupid distraction, that took our eyes off the trolley for seconds, but that was quick enough for his friend to remove my bag from the trolley. Fu@k!!!!!!! I realised in seconds, but our friends were long gone, as was my bag and all its contents.

Glen hurried out, and began searching all the dodgy areas that one could possibly look, and dump a bags contents. I spoke to the manager, security guard, and went to report it at the police shed that was in the car park. Everyone was hugely sympathetic, and sorry that this had happened to us, and all vowed to keep a look out for my bag and contents. All were under the impression that as there was no money in it, it would get dumped in the nearby area...So, off we went to put the word out that a handsome reward would be given for the return of the bag’s contents. Glen stumbled on some guys selling statues, and smoking some colourful cigarettes, who promised if such a man ran through their area with a bag, he would not leave standing.

The Zimbabweans that we met could not have been nicer, truly. Even when Glen started searching in the darkest corners of downtown Harare, he managed to make friends with the local ‘resellers of dodgily acquired goods’ and they were very impressed with the big white man who wants to repurchase his lost goods. So now, we are both greeted by Taps and his crew, who always assure us that they are working to get our things back to us.

So, this started the nightmare......

Thanks to Callum, we were quickly able to have the carnet replaced. Amazon provided my replacement books...at a hugely inflated price due to shipping...and then customs ....and then clearance. However, the hard drive, and the vehicle registration are proving to be far more difficult to obtain.

Glen has been faxing, emailing, and hounding the Randburg Licensing Department to try and get an original copy of our Registration papers sent out. Even using a specialized service to try and get the process moving.

Taps and co, are still looking for our hard drive... 4 years of Glen’s photos.

So, all this has been going on, whist we are getting the White Rhino serviced, and whilst we are still applying at the Angolan Embassy.

Every day we go there to see the lovely ladies behind the glass counter. We handed in the letter, which promptly got lost. We handed in another letter that after several days got 2 levels of clearance. After 10 days we even managed to get an interview so we could explain our case. However, this interview consisted of few words, other than we have to get a letter from the British embassy to support us and our trip. We were led to believe that this letter would expedite the process, and get us a visa. Yeah! A breakthrough! ( So, we thought)

So, off to search for the British Embassy. I have to say, the smartest building in Harare, and the toughest security. They were more than helpful and faxed and printed a copy of the letter, all whilst being so amazed at the Angolan process.

Handed in the hard copy, made sure they had the fax, and then waited for the phone call to confirm that we could apply for the visa... Yes, that is right; we haven’t actually applied for it yet. We were still waiting to find out if we could apply for it. Ridiculous!

So, today Friday the 9^th July, Glen wakes to bad news, our friend in J’burg that is supposed to be sorting out our vehicle papers has hit a wall and thinks that we will have to travel back to complete the paperwork.

Off to the embassy, and the diplomatic cars are not outside, so that means no one has looked at, signed or approved our letters, that have been sitting on the desk for 3 days....but, maybe, maybe they will be in this afternoon. But flights come in from Angola on a Friday, so maybe their friends have arrived...which would mean no work!

Oh, and if the papers do get signed by Monday, and if we are allowed to apply, then maybe, maybe we can have the visa on Thursday... 3 weeks after we arrived in Harare.

So that’s it, that is the frustration of Harare.

Setting Out Photos