Mugabe's propaganda machine continues to manufacture anti-British and American sentiment while the queues for bread are the longest yet. More importantly, Tom gets trapped inside a toilet on the Victoria Falls overnight train.
September 2002
Bulawayo seemed to be suffering greatly from the downturn in tourism, far more than Harare. Shaka's Spear, a hostel we had chosen, had closed down, another casualty of the economic meltdown. Instead, we stayed at friendly Berkeley Place in a double with ensuite shower for Z$3000. Circle Tours, affiliated with the hostel, had closed their curio shop a while ago, auctioning off their stock when Bulawayo had become devoid of tourists. At the internet cafe it was the same old story, the owner commented that few travellers passed through these days, deterred by the adverse publicity.
The morning news bulletin reported that the Government was trying to crack down on people reselling mealie meal, cooking oil and bread at exorbitant prices. Enterprising locals were hoarding these food stuffs to resell at three times the normal price. The leading newspaper headline was: "Woman In Bulawayo Bites Police Officer". This unfortunate woman joined the queue for bread a second time, even though shoppers were limited to purchasing one loaf per day. When bakery staff refused to serve her, she threatened violence, so a policeman was called to restrain her.
After spending a week in Zimbabwe, the queues for bread are the longest yet. Bakery security guards were shuffling people into side alleys so they did not block the pavements. Even 'Wimpy' wasn't immune from the food shortages, running out of flour to make waffles and ice cream.
The terrifying pro-Government propaganda continued unabated in newspapers, painting a rosy picture of rural life and defending land reform policy:
"The Government has allocated more than 300,000 landless people plots with an additional 154,000 to be resettled, boosting food production. This is despite resistance from local white farmers, their cousins in Britain and the United States working in cahoots with the local puppets from the MDC."
"The farmers should be left to get on with the job of producing food for the nation to prove wrong the many prophets of doom in our midst who believe in the misguided notion that the indigenous people of this country owe their existence to white commerical farmers."
"It is however disheartening to note that while the rest of the people are working for the recovery of the economy, some soulless individuals in the MDC and trying to sabotage the agrarian reforms."
The newspapers are filled page upon page with articles just like this one and yet I have not met one Zimbabwean who agrees with the Government. Since reading this article, I have heard rumours that the land is often being reallocated to Mugabe's Government ministers and supporters, not the average Zimbabwean that longs to provide for his family.
Our next destination was the mighty Victoria Falls. For a mere Z$1800, we could travel overnight in a first class coupe sleeper (for two people) in relative luxury. I nearly fainted when I was told the price; bedding was an extra Z$80.
The train was scheduled to depart at 7:00pm arriving at Victoria Falls at 7:00am. Platform 4 was designated for our train, but railway staff instructed us to wait outside their office until names were posted on a board assigning sleeper compartments. There were literally hundreds of people waiting for the train crammed onto platform 1 and restrained behind an iron chain by railway staff. I felt we were lucky that we could wait unmolested outside the office. To calm the unsettled masses, music that was a cross between 1940s music hall and traditional church hymns was broadcast over loudspeakers. We were treated to renditions of "Morning Has Broken" and "Amazing Grace". It loses its appeal after listening to it for the fifth time, however soothing.
At 6:45pm, railway staff informed us that the train was late, but we could now wait over at the notice board. The hoardes of people being held back were finally allowed to charge down to platform 4. At 7:10pm, the long awaited sleeper compartment names were posted on the board. This unleashed a mad scramble at the board, just like being back at school when exam results are displayed.
Our compartment had an upper and lower berth, a sink, extractor fan, fold-down table, mirrors on every surface (the designer must have had a kinky streak) and a night light. The lights didn't come on until we left (an hour late) at 8:00pm. Tom visited the buffet car but they only had fizzy drinks for sale. Another problem was that the buffet car lights were not working, so the bar and diners had to rely on candles.
While I was kept company by my new found friends, the cockroaches, Tom mad a fateful trip to the toilet, only to discover once inside the cubicle, that he was trapped in the pitch black. The door refused to budge so he yelled for help, beating incessantly on the door. I never heard a thing, lying comfortably on the lower berth. In fact, the noise of the train rocking over the tracks drowned out all Tom's pleas for help. Eventually he found a hole in the door that he could insert his finger into, to wrench the door open, bruising his knuckles in the process.
Victoria Falls is one of those peculiar places that I felt I had a duty to visit rather than it being on my main highlights list. It's rather like travelling to India, and on returning friends exclaiming "You didn't go to the Taj Mahal?" Not visiting Ayers Rock in Australia would also be equivalent.
Victoria Falls does have a wow factor but at the end of the day it is just another waterfall. (I know, I'm a heathen and I don't appreciate natural beauty enough). Why the small, charmless village has become an adrenalin activity mecca, is hard to fathom. Touts persistently hassle tourists to change money, get a taxi, buy a soap stone hippo (I already have four) and raft down the Zambezi. The restaurants and accommodation are overpriced compared with the rest of Zimbabwe - it deserves its tag of 'tourist trap'. Everyone gazes at you as if there is a dollar sign swirling above your head.
My advice is save your hard earned cash to do the same activities for a third of the price in South Africa. If you can't resist, then you could easily blow your budget on the following (all prices in US dollars): white water rafting ($95), helicopter flight ($150), flight of the angels ($55 for 20 mins), elephant ride ($90), bungee jump ($90), Chobe National Park 2 days ($250), Hwange National Park 2 days ($260).
We walked to Victoria Falls Park, avoiding the bush path due to warnings of muggings. For a hefty US $20 each, we could visit the numerous view points to our heart's content. Once inside, we could hear in the distance the rumble from an enormous volume of water tumbling over the rocks.
Main Falls
Victoria Falls is approximately 1000km from the source of the Zambezi. At 1078 metres wide, it is the greatest curtain of falling water in the world. The highest point of the falls create a plunge pool of 108 metres deep. The Devil's Cataract is the first view point where the mist rises from the steamy cauldron of water at the bottom of the gorge. The Main Falls are just as impressive but I imagine the spray and sheer volume of water is spectacular in wet season. Horseshoe Falls was a trickle of water, so we moved onto Danger Point that permits a breath taking view down to the bottom of a stunning gorge; churning emerald green water rapids flow into an area known as the Boiling Pot.
After three hours of view points, it was unbelievably hot, so we stopped at a water fountain. Here we met a well dressed, middle-aged British couple staying at the Victoria Falls Hotel. They had spent two weeks in Botswana on safari (I suspected that the cost of their holiday probably equalled the cost of our whole trip). They hated Zimbabwe, telling us that the locals were rude and unhelpful. Unimpressed by the luxurious Victoria Falls Hotel, they couldn't wait to leave. I tried to assure them that Victoria Falls is very different from the rest of Zimbabwe, where everyone has been so welcoming and friendly. I urged them to explore Zimbabwe's other delights.
We were reunited with Natasha and Jason again, indulging in huge foldover pizzas for dinner, while they related how they had walked with lions in Gweru three times. Natasha had a cautionary tale to tell us - she had been mugged walking back to Pat's Place (the cheapest hostel in town). So what possessed us to walk back in the pitch black to Savannah Lodge? All seasoned travellers have moments of madness and my heart was in my throat when four men approached us. Petrified we sprinted back to the lodge, not looking back. Luckily, no harm was done.
Just when you think that it is safe to leave the confines of your room, an overland truck materialises to ruin the peace. Hysterical, shrieking girlies ran riot in the grounds of Savannah Lodge, letting off steam after their sundowner cruise. Not a chance of being able to get a decent night's sleep - if I could have slapped them round the face I would have done, just to shut them up. I'm such a killjoy!