Cape Town to Victoria Falls

By David Gourley

 

This was a holiday that took my wife Cathy and me to five countries in all: South Africa, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Botswana and Namibia. The highlight was a five-day trip on the luxury train Pride of Africa (run by Rovos Rail) between Cape Town and Victoria Falls.

We flew out to Cape Town with Air Namibia. We were pleasantly surprised by the high standard of the in-flight service but it did involve a rather circuitous route via Frankfurt, Windhoek (where we changed planes) and the Namibian coastal town of Walvis Bay. On this latter stretch we had splendid views over the Namib Desert.

The bridge across the Zambesi,
connecting Zimbabwe with Zambia

In Cape Town we had a three-night stay, based at the Vineyard Hotel, located fairly close to the SA Cricket ground in the district of Newlands. I felt whacked after our long overnight flight and just wanted to crash out, but Cathy was determined to go straight away to Table Mountain. I do hate saying this - she was right! The rule when visiting Cape Town is: if the cablecar to the top of Table Mountain is running, go for it. For all too often it is closed. This is nothing to do with the cloud - the "Tablecloth" - which frequently covers the Mountain. The authorities don't mind if people go up and don't seeing anything. The problem is the frequent strong winds, the "Southeasters". We got to the top successfully and enjoyed superb views over what is undoubtedly one of the loveliest cities in the world. But a strong wind blew up even while we were up there; they'd closed the cable-car by the time we got down and it didn't run again for the remainder of our stay.

We had a city tour the next morning and in the afternoon took ourselves off to Robben Island, now preserved as a national museum. There were two tours: of the Island itself and of the actual prison, where one is shown inter alia the cell where Nelson Mandela was kept. We were guided round the prison by a former political prisoner and were struck by the conciliatory attitude that he had towards his former political enemies (it is even the case that some ex-warders have joined the former prisoners in working to preserve this monument).

He had been sentenced in 1988 to a 25-year term but said he'd inwardly laughed because he knew the system wouldn't last that long. He was out after four years. Any worries we had that we were being voyeuristic were put to rest when we purchased a book about the Island: it is described as a place of hell, true, but of heaven as well. It is prized in the new South Africa as the place where apartheid was finally defeated.

The next day saw us on an all-day trip to Cape Point, through fine coastal scenery. The following day was the start of our rail trip. First-class meals, and as much South African wine as one wanted, were included - I think I'll have to up my visits to the gym as a result! (As one tour guide said: people always complain about the food in South Africa - they eat too much of it and put on weight!)

We stopped en route at Kimberly, where an ancient electric tram took us to the Big Hole, the world's largest manmade hole, where diamonds were once mined. The next evening saw a break in the train journey, with an overnight stay in Pretoria. This was preceded by tours of Johannesburg and of Pretoria itself, both with the same guide. She was excellent but we were rather thrown when she asked us where we wanted to go in Jo'burg. Surely she knew best where to go, we thought.

Tentatively I enquired about the possibility of going to Soweto, expecting her to say it was too far, or simply that, as a white South African, she didn't want to go there. But she was happy to take us there and it was a fascinating visit. One has an image of Soweto as a place full of miserable shacks and there are indeed plenty of these, but much of the housing is decent and well-maintained, and there is even a local "Beverley Hills", where Winnie Mandela lives in her mansion. There are so many BMWs that they are known as "Soweto bicycles". There is now a university - and somehow we did not expect to see a KFC outlet in Soweto!

The place has, of course, its problems and no sensible visitor strays far from the beaten track. But we felt safe enough and were moved by our visit to the area that has been set aside as a memorial to Hector Pieterson, the first schoolboy to be killed by the security forces in the 1976 uprising, the trigger for which was the protest by black schoolchildren about being taught in Afrikaans, which (unlike English) is regarded as an alien language. This really marks the definitive start of the final struggle against apartheid. We were told that parents were somewhat ashamed that it was their kids who were making the running, when they themselves had been passive. Some estrangement between generations resulted, a cause perhaps of the present degree of lawlessness in Soweto, which local community leaders agree is a problem. We also visited Nelson Mandela's former house, which is now a museum; Archbishop Tutu still lives nearby, when he's in town, making this particular street the only one in the world to have housed two Nobel prizewinners.

Soweto has at least one and a half million, and maybe as many as four million, inhabitants, and by any standards is a city in its own right though it has yet to acquire all the trappings associated with big cities. It is by no means a place without hope and maybe it is not fanciful to suppose that one day Soweto will be the dynamic heart of the metropolis with Jo'burg just a rundown suburb. Downtown Jo'burg is seriously crime-ridden and ranks as the grimmest city we have yet visited; previously we'd given that accolade to Lima, which we've now promoted a notch! Pretoria on the other hand is an attractive city.

We rejoined the train the next day and had another two nights, continuing into Zimbabwe, where we had a tour of Bulawayo, a pleasant city with a very good museum (the best in Africa, we were told by our possibly biased guide - apart, he conceded, from the one in Cairo). In Victoria Falls we stayed at the eponymous Hotel, one of the finest anywhere. From our room we had an excellent view into Zambia and the spray from the Falls can be seen from the gardens. The Falls are every bit as spectacular as we had imagined. We visited them four times in all, once from the Zambian side, and also had two helicopter flights over them.

Tours in Zimbabwe included an elephant trek and a visit to the Hwange National Park. Like the name of the country itself, many towns in the former Rhodesia have different post-independence names. Salisbury to Harare is the most well-known change whilst Essexvale Man is now Esigodoni Man. In the case of Hwange the change is very much for the better - it was formerly known as Wankie.

Our foray into Zambia took us not just to that country's side of the Falls, but also to an authentic African village (which benefits financially from such tours and welcomes visitors), the city of Livingstone (a pleasant city still, though this former capital has known better days) and a game drive. To get from one country to the other, we had to walk across the Bridge over the Zambezi. In the middle, precisely on the boundary, bungee jumps take place and we paused to watch a couple of them. For four days the Zimbabweans do the necessary organizing, then the Zambians take over for the next four, and so on ad infinitum. We decided to forego the pleasure of doing a jump!

A young boy struck up a conversation with us as we walked across; learning we were English he came up with what must be the standard patter: "ah, England - Tony Blair, John Major [John who?], Michael Owen, Alan Shearer". I gave him an old baseball cap of mine and he seemed well pleased with it. It had started its life in Petra, Jordan!

We had six nights in all in Victoria Falls, punctuated by three nights over the border in Botswana in the Cresta Mowana Game Lodge, close to the Chobe National Park. President Clinton had stayed here during his tour of Africa earlier in 1998. The Lodge is on the banks of the Chobe River. On the other side is Namibia and we went across there in a dugout canoe and were shown round the village there by a local lad. For this short excursion, there were four lots of forms to be filled in by both of us - exit from Botswana, entry to Namibia etc. We went on game drives in the Park and on boat trips along the River and saw plenty of game, including lions, elephants and hippos. We had seen giraffes, zebras and wildebeests in Zambia and Zimbabwe, which was as well as we saw none in Botswana.

As well as viewing game, I also ate a fair bit of it, both in Botswana and in an African-style restaurant in Zimbabwe. Warthog is recommended, also zebra. To anyone who objects, I would say that, if one is not vegetarian, there is no difference in principle between eating a sheep, say, and eating game. The killing of game for food is the result of a strict culling process and in no way threatens the eco-system.

Our flight home from Victoria Falls was in two stages, with an overnight stay en route in Windhoek. The first stage constituted just about the strangest flight we have been on. The plane was tiny - even the shortest in our party had to lower their heads as we boarded and, in the absence of any in-flight personnel, snacks were handed to us by the pilot as we boarded. This was hardly a comfortable journey but, not to worry, I thought, the flight will only be an hour or so. We duly flew over a city, which I assumed to be Windhoek. Cathy says my face was a picture when I saw the sign welcoming us to Lusaka International Airport. Unexpectedly we were back in Zambia, having travelled in precisely the opposite direction to the one expected.

A German chap in front of us got his word in first - yes, the pilot assured him, the plane was going on to Windhoek, but we'd have to get out here whilst the plane was refuelled. We had a second stop in a remote part of Namibia and again we had to get out for refuelling. To round off our day, we landed in Windhoek in a thunderstorm. In all we'd been in this uncomfortable plane some six hours, on and off, but the journey had been so enjoyably bizarre that somehow we didn't feel we had grounds for complaint! Our flight back to London the next day seemed positively tame by comparison.

First published in VISA issue 32 (winter 1998)

An African Millennium

 

by David Gourley

Having resolved, in our own minds at least, that the third millennium really does commence in year 2000, not 2001 as some have argued, Cathy and I were determined that we would celebrate its arrival in an exotic location. Our choice was Zimbabwe. We had visited this country not much more than a year previously. On that occasion, we had travelled via the luxury Rovos Rail train from Cape Town to Victoria Falls where we stayed at the eponymous hotel. This time we would be returning to Vic Falls, but would also for the first time be going to certain other areas, including the capital, Harare.

The one drawback was getting there and back. Long overnight flights in economy class are definitely to be endured not enjoyed, especially if, like me, one is over six foot. I have, on occasions, splashed out on an upgrade to Business Class - quel différence! - but had not done so this time. It is a grievance with us that, in out many years of travel, we have not once been given a complimentary upgrade - though our daughter has on several occasions! Whilst, in terms of the friendliness of its people, I would rank Zimbabwe at or near the top of the fifty countries we have visited, I have to say that, on our outbound journey, the service on its national airline was indifferent and the meal awful. To be fair, things were better on the way back.

As usual I hardly slept on the flight out. But I was able to catch up when we got to our first hotel, the Meikdls in dowtown Harare, which is one of the finest in the country. For, though ours was a morning arrival, we were able to check in straight away. After an excellent lunch in the hotel, we were refreshed and ready for our afternoon city tour, which started in nearby African Unity Square. This was once called Cecil Square and the paths across it still form the pattern of a Union Jack, this being the place where, in 1890, the British flag was first raised in Zimbabwe (as it then wasn't). It was named after the Prime Minister of the day, Robert Cecil, who also gave his name to the city, for he was otherwise known as Lord Salisbury. Harare is an attractive, clean and - with its many high-rise office blocks - modern city, with an interesting blend of European and African influences. A highlight of the tour was our visit to the Kopje, a hill to the southwest of the city, which affords a fine view over the downtown area.

Next day we had a long journey by road to Bulawayo, Zimbabwe's second city. At about the halfway mark, we paused for a fascinating tour of the ruins of Great Zimbabwe, which cover a wide area. Here was once a great city, which ruled over a vast domain and which attained a level of civilisation which, in earlier times, scholars did not believe existed in ancient Africa. It was the Shona, nowadays Zimbabwe's largest ethnic group, who founded this city but it suited the purpose of pre-independence regimes to claim foreign origins. But the historical evidence is incontrovertible: this was a Shona settlement. During the sixties the idea gained ground that, as and when the country gained majority rule, it would take its name from this once mighty city - continuing to name it after Cecil Rhodes being hardly an appealing option!

Next day we had a brief city tour of Bulawayo. It was already familiar to us for our train had, during our previous trip, broken its journey here for a couple of hours, during which we had visited the city's excellent Museum of Natural History. This is a pleasant city, with a rather more relaxed atmosphere than the bustling capital. The streets here are very wide, for the founding fathers decreed that it should be possible for a team of sixteen oxen to turn round in them full circle.

In Zimbabwe the distinction is made between high and low density suburbs. I am sure that Bulawayo, being a city with around a million inhabitants, has plenty of the former. But we saw only the prosperous low-density areas and could almost imagine ourselves back home in Surrey. Any such illusion swiftly disappeared when we entered the Matobo National Park. This had been billed as a visit to Cecil Rhodes' grave, not much of a selling point as far as I am concerned. However, the real interest is to be derived from the magnificent location of the grave, atop a mountain known as the 'View of the World'. This is a slight exaggeration but the view is splendid nevertheless and the mountain itself offers a curious moonscape scene. Rhodes had asked to be buried here and a prolonged funeral procession from Cape Town was necessary.

Our ascent to the 'View of the World' was preceded by a visit to a small exhibition devoted to Cecil Rhodes. Our black Zimbabwean guide offered a balanced view of his life. Of course, he was an imperialist, but he is given credit for wanting to put back into, and not just take out of, the lands that he conquered - he was not rapacious in the manner of, say, King Leopold in the Congo. He appears to have believed, at least in theory in the equality of races. So maybe he did not turn in his grave when Rhodesia became Zimbabwe. Our guide had a wry sense of humour. Zambia, he told us, is less prosperous than Zimbabwe because it achieved independence in 1964 and "they weren't ready for it...we decided to wait until 1980!"

We saw in the new Millennium in the Hwange National Park. Our hotel gave us commemorative T-shirts (so we really have been there, done that). After a good al fresco dinner, we went on a night safari. Some wildebeest obligingly presented themselves just as we drove out of the Lodge and a sharp-eyed person in our party later noticed the gleaming eyes of a bush-baby, but the highlight was a group of elephants. Back at base, we saw in midnight over drinks with two other couples. Then we wandered off on our own, down to the edge of the hotel grounds. Just beyond were some zebra, who were no doubt enjoying their own celebrations. It was a wonderfully starry night and I can truly say that there is nowhere else on earth I would rather have been on this very special occasion. On returning to the hotel, we rejoined our friends and shared with them a bottle of champagne - we'd brought it out from England and the hotel had kindly kept it for us on ice. Zimbabwe is two hours ahead of Britain and some hardy souls in our party were determined to stay up until the GMT midnight hour. But there was an early morning game drive the next day: for us, it was good enough to have seen in the new millennium at local time.

The morning game drive was rewarding: no elephants this time but sightings included a lioness at close quarters, a family of warthogs and quite a few giraffes. At one point one of our tyres got a puncture; as we clambered out of our vehicle, we were grateful that we were no longer in the vicinity of the lioness. We next transferred by road to Victoria Falls for a two-night stay. This time our base was the Elephant Hills hotel. This is a five-star establishment, but lacks character and compares not at all favourably with the Victoria Falls hotel. The best that can be said about it is that, from its hilltop location, there is a fine view over the surrounding area. But it does not reciprocate, for people looking in its direction see an unlovely modern edifice.

The Victoria Falls by contrast, is one of the best hotels we have stayed in anywhere. There are fine views from here across the Zambezi into Zambia and one can see too the spray from the Falls. We returned there for our meals, sharing on our second evening a superb chateaubriand in the palatial Livingstone Room for about a quarter of the cost back home.


Jacket and tie in this restaurant are de rigeur. I was prepared for this, but there's no problem if a chap turns up unsuitably clad - the restaurant will lend him the missing garments. The hotel seems frozen in time. On its walls one finds such items as posters of "Southern Rhodesia", charts depicting the product from all parts of the British Empire, two huge oil paintings of King George V and Queen Mary and photographs of the visit of the princesses Elizabeth arid Margaret Rose in the late forties. Amidst all this, the obligatory portrait in the reception area of Comrade President Robert Gabriel Mugabe seemed a tad incongruous.

We had done a lot during our previous stay, including a three-night stay over the border in Botswana and a day trip into Zambia. We decided to take things easy this time though naturally we returned to the Falls, enjoying them all the more this second time round. They really are one of the natural wonders of the world. We then walked over the bridge across the Zambezi, thereby crossing into Zambia. We spent some while watching bungee jumps, which take place from the middle of the bridge, exactly on the border. Those who did the jumps seemed exhilarated when they got back - but we're still not persuaded that this is something we want to do! Our other excursion was to a crocodile farm.

The final two nights of our week-long stay were in the Lake View Hotel, on the shores of Lake Kariba. This is a simple yet pleasant hotel which, as might be deduced from the name, offers fine views across the lake. To get there from Vic Falls an internal flight was necessary; going by coach would have entailed a long and circuitous journey all the way back through Bulawayo and Harare. The views en route were spectacular. Our last full day was spent in very pleasant fashion, cruising the take. We saw many elephants (including some in the water) and hippos (including some out of the water). On the final morning we visited Kariba Dam. This spans the border so once again we went just inside Zambia. The fun was now at an end. All that remained was an internal flight back to Harare, along wait in its dreary airport and that dreaded flight back home.

Zimbabwe then, and still more since, has not exactly been getting a good press in Britain. In our experience, the countries we have visited are far more agreeable than the image generally portrayed back home. Admittedly we have not put this view to the ultimate test of visiting, say, Iraq or Afghanistan. But far from being the grim sort of place that might be imagined from recent reports, Zimbabwe is a beautiful and friendly county, with an impressive infrastructure - its people, if not its stern-faced president, are the smiling face of Africa.

Racism exists but, left to their own devices (i.e. without officially encouraged mischief-making), the various ethnic groups, black and white rub along fairly well. UDI in the sixties was disastrous, as well as morally wrong, yet Ian Smith, who locked up his opponents, is not just at liberty but is able to go around expounding to anyone who cares to listen his view that the country is going to the dogs. Alas there are serious economic difficulties, exacerbated by the military intervention in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Its president is not (shall we say) universally admired, at home or abroad (main thoroughfares in Harare, Bulawayo and elsewhere are named in his honour - at least Lenin had the decency to die before Petrograd, née St Petersburg, was rechristened Leningrad). It would certainly be tragic if tourism dries up for, in recent years, it has become one of the country's top revenue earners, which is as well for the tobacco industry, upon which the economy has traditionally been reliant is decidedly vulnerable nowadays - even Air Zimbabwe has recently banned in-flight smoking. One must hope that the country surmounts its present difficulties, for its people deserve much better.

First published in VISA issue 37 (summer 2000)