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)