LET’S MAKE A PLAN
TRAVERSING THE BEAUTIFUL, TURBULENT LAND OF ZIMBABWE
While exploring Southern Africa over the last few months, I have repeatedly been told of Zimbabwe for a raft of very good reasons and a handful of not-so-good reasons. It’s one of the most beautiful countries on the continent, I have been told, and the locals are extremely friendly. Unfortunately, it’s also extremely corrupt, and recently, I have been glued to the radio to hear news of the military coup, which removed long-standing Dictator Robert Mugabe from power.
I’m told, now, everything is more or less stable, though the country is poised on a knife edge, torn between the long-standing ZANU-PF party and the hopeful up-and-coming MDC, with all the possibilities of a bright and prosperous future ahead.
Diving in
Leaving Mozambique, we climb up and up into the mountains of Eastern Zimbabwe,
and set up camp on the edge of the beautiful town Chimanimani. The town itself is small enough to walk around in ten minutes, so we set about learning how money works in this country and getting some small supplies.
After a very rocky monetary history, Zimbabwe is currently using what they call "bond notes" which look like money, and are supposed to be of equal value to the U.S. dollar (more on that later). Unfortunately bond notes are in short supply, and almost nobody has actual cash. We see people lining up for many hours at the bank to get a single $20 bill — their allocation for the day.
I see an ATM at a nearby bank, complete with a now-common armed guard. I walk over to use my card, and the guard smiles broadly while explaining it is of no use because the ATM has no money in it. With bond notes so scarce, all the ATMs in the country are empty. I begin to wonder why he is still
guarding it, but don’t bother asking.
Because bond notes are in such short supply and are worthless outside the country, everyone wants genuine U.S. dollars. Raiding my emergency supply means we can exchange to bond notes at better than face value. My $100 USD bill buys $125 in bond notes, which can be used to buy absolutely everything in the country. Getting a 25-percent discount across the board is a nice way to make our stay a little cheaper.
At night, we walk into town for a drink, and wander into what is clearly a local hangout. A few very drunk men are playing pool while blaring music, and before I can even pull up a stool, one walks over to shake hands and welcome us, repeatedly assuring us we're welcome in this bar. Soon we're playing pool and chatting away, and everyone is mighty impressed when I beat the local pool champion. After he easily beats me twice, I then realize he was just being
kind to the newcomer.
Again, I'm blown away by the friendliness and welcoming nature of people here. We're in a tiny isolated town, and we have wandered into what is clearly a very local bar where we don’t even speak the local language. Even so, people quickly welcome us and make us feel right at home.
In the high mountains, the nights are impressively cold, and I soon dig out all my thermals and down jacket from Canada. Campfires become a regular fixture, and I feel as if I have driven to a different planet from sticky Mozambique. With zero humidity, sunny days and stunning camping and hiking, I'm not sure overlanding gets any better than this.
Rocky Times for Zimbabwe
Just six months prior to my visit, the military removed the infamous Robert Mugabe from
“WE'RE IN A TINY ISOLATED TOWN, AND WE HAVE WANDERED INTO WHAT IS CLEARLY A VERY LOCAL BAR, WHERE WE DON’T EVEN SPEAK THE LOCAL LANGUAGE. EVEN SO, PEOPLE QUICKLY WELCOME US AND MAKE US FEEL RIGHT AT HOME.”
power in what was possibly the best-executed bloodless coup ever staged. After ruling for 37 consecutive years, Africa’s oldest leader was finally kicked out after decades of mismanagement and corruption that has crippled the country.
Zimbabwe holds a couple of monetary world records for all the wrong reasons. In late 2008, they achieved the world’s highest inflation, estimated at a staggering 79,600,000,000 percent per month, which inevitably led to the world’s largest official bank note — a whopping 100 trillion dollars. Zimbabwe’s fiscal policy reads like a textbook on how not to manage finances on a country scale.
Miraculously, Zimbabwean’s tolerated this mismanagement for decades, simply getting on with life no matter what the inept government was destroying. “Let’s make a plan” has become the national slogan, and the resourcefulness of the people is impressive. Even without a functioning monetary system, unreliable electricity, terribly potholed roads and a raft of other failing services, Zimbabweans manage to get on with living a vibrant and enjoyable life. Moreover, I never heard a single complaint while in the country — these are seriously resilient and glass-half-full people.
History Lesson
We hike and camp in the mountains of Eastern Zimbabwe, getting a feel for the perfect climate and friendly locals. Just outside the once vibrant regional capital of Mutare we find our way to the infamous Drifters Backpackers, the setting of the bestselling book “The Last Resort" by Douglas Rodgers. This hilarious book recounts the horrible decline of Zimbabwe under President Mugabe's rule from the boom of the late ‘90s through the crash of 2008. Through it all, the Rodgers family always found ways to survive — not always strictly legal ways — which are hilarious and outrageous. Through comedy this story is a brilliant way to really understand what it was like for locals in Zimbabwe during those years, and how the spirit of the people helped them to not only service, but always see the positive and have a laugh.
We’re privileged to camp a night and meet the original owner of Drifters, and one of the central characters in all the stories. They still
“‘LET’S MAKE A PLAN’ HAS BECOME THE NATIONAL SLOGAN, AND THE RESOURCEFULNESS OF THE PEOPLE IS IMPRESSIVE.”
live on the property, though the backpackers closed long ago after tourism took a nosedive. In the Drifters Friday night tradition, we make massive pizzas in our Dutch oven over the fire and enjoy hearing the outrageous stories unfit for publication.
Mana Pools National Park
Perched on the edge of the mighty Zambezi River, Mana Pools is a park people rave about. From the animals in camp, to the wild dogs and lions, to camping right on the edge of the river, it seems Mana Pools really does have it all.
We arrive at the entrance gate at 6 a.m. sharp, and make our way into the heart of the park on corrugated and dusty gravel roads. Immediately, we spot elephant, buffalo, hyena and a staggering amount of bird life. After exploring far and wide, we make our way to the campsite to wait out the midday heat.
I drive directly into camp on the Zambezi, and my jaw drops at the beauty surrounding me. A crocodile suns itself on the muddy bank, hippos grunt and snort loudly and soon I watch an elephant wade into the mighty river and cross to a nearby island. On the far bank, low mountains rise from the river, and as always, I’m smiling at the thought of yet another entirely different country: Zambia.
A few hours later, I’m relaxing in the shade of the Jeep when I look up to see an elephant less than 100 yards away. Over the next hour, he slowly ambles in my direction until he's less than 20 yards away. His movements and flapping ears make it clear he is aware of me, though he does not seem overly concerned. Given how enormous he is, I’m certain he does not see me as any kind of threat.
He ambles from tree to tree, searching out lunch, making a circle around the campsite.
Soon, we fall into a now familiar routine; rising before the sun to search out wildlife in the early morning cool before retreating to the shade of the campsite to wait out the midday heat. We’re off again in the late afternoon, searching out more wildlife until just before dark. There are a few other vehicles in camp, and each evening we share a large campfire, swapping stories and enjoying the cool night air.
Armed with ashlights we’re a little shocked to see hyena come within ve yards of us, searching for discarded food. It’s interesting to realize I smell the approach of the hyenas before I
can see them — just like bears in Alaska, the stench of rotting meat gives them away.
Hoping to get close to the big animals, we set out on a walking tour with a mandatory armed guard. Of course, the guard carries the ubiquitous AK47, and I don't miss him loading the rifle before we set out. Purely by chance, a researcher is tracking elusive painted dogs and is armed with radio-tracking equipment, locating them is a certainty. Soon we’re walking through tall, dry grass and dense trees. The hair on the back of my neck stands up when two different lion prides begin roaring. The guide is quite certain they are less than 500 yards away, and I begin to wonder just how safe we are. The guide is not at all worried, and we actually walk directly towards the lions, though we never find them.
A little further along we spot the small group of painted dogs resting on the dry riverbank. Because they know the researcher so well, we are able to walk within 50 yards, and they don’t seem at all disturbed. In appearance, the dogs are somewhere between a regular dog and fox. Each has extremely unique and beautiful markings, giving rise to the name "painted dogs". The researcher has us count them multiple times and carefully checks the markings of each animal — he is certain one has been missing for a week, and he suspects it has settled in a nearby den to give birth. These dogs are extremely endangered, and the prospect of a new litter is exciting.
On our final day, we explore late into the afternoon before making a beeline for the exit, so we are not locked in for the night. Right at sunset we find a small clearing to camp outside the gate and fall fast asleep after multiple long days searching for wildlife. In the middle of the night, Em wakes and we’re both startled to see a large hyena sniffing around the rear tire of the Jeep, less than 6 feet directly below our bed. Later in the night, I am woken by a lion's roar, and in the morning, I find fresh elephant tracks within 30 feet of the Jeep. All of this, and we’re outside the park.
Around Lake Kariba
The far northwest of Zimbabwe is dominated by the enormous man-made Lake Kariba, created as a result of the Kariba hydro dam. In the namesake town, we learn the ferry to cross the lake won’t depart for another ten days, so we plan a route on tiny roads that circle to the south of the lake, winding through tiny villages and skirting wildlife reserves and parks. The roads are rutted and corrugated, so the going is slow as we make our way around the enormous lake, passing through stunning landscapes and thoroughly enjoying the cool night air, which invites a camp re and more Dutch oven cooking each night.
On a very isolated stretch of gravel, we come upon a large crowd of locals gathered around two vehicles. We learn they have been able to patch a flat tire, though without an air compressor, they are unable to get back on the road. Their smiles are enormous when I say, “Of course, I’m happy to help.” I shake at least 30 hands before I’m actually able to get my compressor up and running. This group of people are on their way to church, and have been stranded more than four hours waiting without a single vehicle passing. They are packed into two seriously overloaded vehicles, and are jubilant we are able to assist.
We manhandle the tire back on the rim and get it up to a massive 60psi, though unfortunately, it still leaks. I see the valve inner has been damaged, so on a whim, I take a valve cap off the Jeep and screw it on, which completely stops the leak. Everyone is impressed