Zimbabwe, Zambia and Zouth Africa

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So i wasn't originally planning to visit Zimbabwe due to a fear that it is not that welcoming of white tourists. However, having spoken to a few people along the way that had been there, my mind was changed that there was a lot of fun and interest to be had there, and decided on it rather than staying north and working my way across Zambia.

I crossed from Mozambique just north of the Chimanimani mountains after another example of true kindness where a local on the bus insisted on having my heavy bag on his lap for the journey rather than me having to carry it on my lap. Border day was again smooth and a I had a right old laugh with the immigration lady about the 'special' price of a visa for British citizens ($55) compared to non British ($30) due to the UK's special relationship with Zimbabwe.

First stop was Mutare, a non offensive border town that had had it's day and was holding onto scraps of an economy, as were so many other places which I soon realized.

Brief economics of recent Zimbabwe

In late 2008 inflation was recorded at 90,000,000,000,000,000,000,000%!,(MISSING) which had the effect of stripping the wealth from most of the country and giving it to the handful that managed to get loans (government related people generally), who then waited for inflation to erode the debt. Early 2009 saw the Dollarisation of the currency, which uses US dollars, and then South African Rand for small change. (And if you buy something from the shop and your change isn't in exact rands, invariably they'll underchange you and then offer you a little sweet as the rest of your change. Great.) Things are a lot more stable now, but I'm no economist so can't elaborate on the more intricate pros and cons of this set up, thankfully for the reader. (I did actually buy a hundred trillion Zimbabwe dollar note from one of the touts in the end.)

After a couple of nights in Mutare, we moved on to a town called Masvingo to visit one of the national treasures, Great Zimbabwe, which is a 15th century monument where the main tribal king resided. It is essentially just a set of walls, and doesn't compare very well at all to European buildings of a similar age, but is extremely rich in cultural history. Each king would have a new level built on the palace, burying the previous level for good (well until the recent archeological work). And the king's palace was high up looking over the wife enclosure so that he could look on his 200 wives all day and summon which ever one, or ones, took his fancy. Sounds pretty tiring to me. Again, there was evidence of a thriving economy with a lovely 4 star hotel in the grounds that now had virtually no customers now.

Great Zimbabwe was my first experience of Zimbabwean theft and it absolutely made my blood boil. I was happily sitting at a picnic table supping a tea with no idea what was about to unfold. A cuddly little monkey approached for what I thought was a little human bonding and sharing of those common traits. My memory plays the next part in slow motion as he lunged and it became very apparent to me that he had absolutely no intention of forming a bond, and was just interested in my last two biscuits that I had put aside to enjoy with my tea. My realization was slow and painful, and nowhere near fast enough to defend my biscuits. As is the way with criminal events, only after the theft can I now see how obvious his true intention was. I did manage to fight down the emotional pain and pull myself together enough to give chase, but to no avail as the evil monkey squawked down from the tree tops with laughter. It was at the moment I vowed never to come to Africa again without a gun.

Moving on from the monkey infested regions of central Zimbabwe, laden with 10kg of stone carving in my bag (a heavy mistake and a consequence being emotionally weak when I got given the seller's spiel) we moved on to the south west, Bullawayo. There isn't much to see here, but it had a pleasant ambiance and relaxed pace given it's Zimbabwe's second city. It was the scene of further generosity where the owner of a local bar gave us free drinks and food all evening and a cracking conversation about Zimbabwean and South African politics, although I couldn't really remember it in the morning.

Bullawayo is linked to Victoria Falls by an overnight train, which was the next move. Unfortunately for me, the journey was marred with further theft, and possibly more useful items than my biscuits: my bank card, cash and driving license. Again, I was furious with myself for lowering my guard and didn't sleep much that night out of frustration and annoyance. Fortunately parents to the rescue (35 years old and still relying on them!) and I was Western Unioned some money. (Barclays in the UK can't transfer money to Barclays in Zimbabwe as the transfer would go through the US which US sanctions prevent!) My new card would take a little longer so I had time to kill.

Having seen the amazing waterfall, a once in a lifetime opportunity arose. Zambia had just qualified for the final of the African Nations Cup (football for female readers) and Zambia was just next door. I convinced my traveling partner, Ariadna, that it would be a brilliant adventure and it was. A further border day, and another chase with a monkey after my goods. It was a fair chase; me with two fully laden rucksacks on front and back of my body, the monkey with an infant clinging to it's belly. It snatched the bag, but I pursued and made it drop everything except my cheese, much to the amusement of the locals taking a rest in the midday sun. That made me feel good and probably helped me regain some control in my life after the previous two thefts. The post exercise sweat lasted for an age though.

Anyway, 48 hours later we were in Lusaka, the Zambian capital preparing for the big game (on TV - the actual game was being played in Gabon, west Africa). The word 'mental' gets banded around way too easily for my liking (except by my psychologist friends), but I can truly say that Lusaka was mental. On the day of the big match, Ari and I bought Zambian shirts and headed into the heart of the city, the big market. 4 hours later having had our photos taken with hundreds of people, being slightly deaf due to constant screaming and blowing of horns in our ears, and having had our faces painted (and my head with the artist enjoying the larger than normal canvas - big enough to write Chipolopolo meaning 'Go Zambia'😉 we were shattered. We did though discover one technique for some peace and quiet. If you put your finger to your mouth saying 'shhh' then the Zambians fall about laughing, go silent and return the gesture. This apparently related to a corrupt regional politician who was trying to buy votes. His rival told the people to take the money on offer, but not to say who they voted for, hence the 'shhh'. And many of the 'Copper Bullets' (Zambian football team) were from that region. I just enjoyed the brief interlude of peace and quiet.

The game itself was pretty good with Zambia, by far the underdogs, on the back foot against the much favored Ivory Coast. Drogba (Ivory Coast) missed a penalty, which was very amusing, and the amazing Zambian keeper, Mweene was immense. In the deciding penalties at the end he even stepped up to take one helping Zambia win the game. He is a very cool man, and needless to say Lusaka went even more mental. (Previously, after I'd had my wallet stolen, my mum advised me to stay away from rough and drunk people and especially large crowds - sorry mum.)

I left the craziness 36 hours later (some people at the bus station were still celebrating and hadn't slept) and back tracked to Victoria Falls to pick up my new bank card. The best part of that journey was a priest getting hold of the coach microphone and asking god to bless the tires, the engine, the steering wheel and the brakes. I've never felt so safe on a bus. He was actually a lovely man and I wasn't annoyed at being forced to listen to a sermon. Although I was annoyed at them keep turning off the films after they'd only played for an hour when I was just getting into them, and for fast forwarding through the juicy bits.

Back to Zimbabwe and a final stop just south of Harare at a lion sanctuary. The sanctuary, known as the Antelope Park but really very little to do with antelopes, has a rehabilitation program and offers the chance to walk with lions younger than 18 months that are in the first stage of the rehabilitation. It was very good and I quickly forgot that they could rip me apart if they wanted to: the owner only has one arm after foolishly playing with some of the adult lions when he was drunk.

So that was Zimbabwe pretty much done for me. I had missed out on a canoeing safari and seeing Harare due to my stolen wallet logistics, but I wasn't too fussed and I took a bus across the border for Johannesburg. There was one amusing moment at the border when the immigration officer was getting shirty that there should only be people from that bus being stamped at that time, and no individual vehicle drivers, while staring at me. The bus driver confirmed to her that despite being white, I was traveling on his bus, and I had this little smug look on my face.

Johannesburg is a funny place. There seems to be no real centre to it, and people go to various suburbs for things. The residential walls are extremely high with either barbed or electrified wire on top, and there are no white people walking about, except for me and a couple of French Swiss, as the whites drive from their gated property to another gated property. Nice shopping centre though.

I had a glass of champagne as soon as the seat belt sign went off on my way to Sydney to celebrate the very good times and enduring the few tough times.

My feelings about Zimbabwe, Zambia and South Africa

I'm so glad that I traveled through Zimbabwe and dispelled those fears resulting from the media attention in the UK. The country is full of normal, generally kind people that have been subjected to policies that really haven't benefitted them. The hyperinflation destroyed a lot of the standard person's wealth and put it in the hands of the few. The 'Indigenisation' program has taken thriving farms away from white owners and handed them over to black owners that had neither the knowledge nor experience to keep them productive. (I even heard of a farm being taken from a black owner and handed it to a government related black owner.) The Indigenisation program is currently trying to enforce all businesses to be majority owned by 'indigenous' Zimbabweans, but with no clarification on what indigenous means. Essentially black.

I do agree with keeping the wealth of a country within that country and with the people of the country, which is the supposed aim of the policies. But that definitely hasn't been achieved and the wealth of the country has dissipated to relatively little due to the policies themselves, and the systemic corruption.

Zambia on the other hand felt different. It does have one of the lowest life expectancies in the world, but also had a positivity about it. It's hard to be totally objective as they did win the African Nations Cup while I was there, but I made a few observations. Firstly, Livingstone (near border with Zimbabwe) and Lusaka had economies in their own right and they weren't wholly relying on tourists, unlike Zimbabwe. Secondly, in the local paper there was a massive spread on how the government must tackle corruption and what it is and isn't doing right. The article was amazingly liberal by African standards. Thirdly, Zambia has already gone through a process of handing back land or compensation to those owners from whom it was illegally taken. Finally, there is relatively little mineral wealth in Zambia (a little copper maybe) compared to Zimbabwe which is considered one of the richest in the world along with the Congo. Therefore, Western countries are more likely to leave Zambia alone, which is much more likely to benefit the Zambians.

I don't think I was there long enough to have an opinion on South Africa that I haven't already got from London.

Special Report: Overall thoughts on Africa

Great. (I don't want to go on too much.)

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