A shot of Tina on the dirt road between Mazvikadei and Mvurwi. Ploughing her own furrow: strong, independent and on topic! After having a bit of a mopey day after getting off the ferry, things started looking up swiftly. I'd replaced my slops and got some decent-ish food to cook, and although that didn't buoy my spirits particularly, they are things that I had to do - especially seeing as my Jesus sandals rub on the back of my heels if I do much walking in them. I had bought a wifi voucher and gone down to the bar overlooking the lake to try and catch up on a few things over a beer (I had a Bohlinger, but it wasn't up to much really). The wifi wasn't working, so after collecting my eggs which I'd got the barman to hard boil for me, I set off to reception to moan at them. It was on the way there that two ladies, Gill and Trish asked me if that was my bike and tent, and what I was doing etc etc. They said that they were going to offer me a bed for the night, but could see that I'd already set up camp. I just said that I was more than happy camping, but if they really wanted to help me out, they could feed me supper. This did the trick, and after some quick directions, was told to come over later for some 'graze'. What a bonus, and I seemed to be back in the hospitality game once more! The woman at reception very kindly let me on the office wifi network, but it was still woefully slow so I enlisted the help of my glamourous assistant Chloe for the last blog posting (apologies for lack of pics). I then changed into my customary dinner ones - bush shirt and my only pair of trousers (non horrible zip off camping ones) - and trotted off to dinner with my duiker man bag of valuables and the ingredients to make tuna mayo rolls for lunch the next day. Gill & Trish are Zimbabwean by extraction, but now living in Lusaka, Zambia and very lovely ladies indeed. I had a Mosi (Zambian beer) thrust into my hand immediately and then introduced to the two new ladies who were over for drinks. We had boerwors and steak kebabs for dinner with some salad and carb-licious tats: both delicious and a lot better than the culinary masterpiece I'd have knocked up on the MSR Dragonfly (Roaring Susie, the Stove). We saw bushbuck wondering by and some fireflies too, which was very cool. Conversation ranged from Zimbabwean politics and land invasions to snakes (and the aggressive or passive nature of each species), game ranging and being eaten by crocodiles, agriculture in Zambia, and how the John Deere (imported in parts to avoid duty) rules there. The topic of tomorrow's ascent up the Escarpment to Makuti also featured heavily; so much so that, even under intense peer pressure from an assortment of 50-year old ladies, I resisted taking on a fifth Mosi. I wasn't allowed to walk home due to hippo danger, and was tucked up in bed by about 10, after collecting my tub of yoghurt from the bar man and making a few FaceTime calls. I was not long settled when I could hear the crunch crunch of grass being cropped very close to my tent. I played dead for a bit but then got bored (and annoyed by the noise) so started fiddling with my zips loudly. This only caused a momentary pause in the grazing, so eventually decided I would rebuke said grass eater for noise pollution. There was a full moon so no need for a torch, but when I thrust my head out I couldn't see anything. There was a blind spot the other side of the tent, but I think we can safely rule out hippo as the Coffin isn't anywhere near large enough to mask the bulk of the vast water horse. I decided it was zebra as apparently they queue at the boom each night to be let in, and I'd seen plenty of them in Kariba when cycling to and from the dam. Then followed a decent night's sleep and a fairly early wake up the next morning. The Life AquaticShots from the Kariba:Ferry, dam viewing, Kapenta fishing boat (little fish like whitebait), sundowners overlooking dams, and a shortcut speeding across Mazvikadei, a visit to Chinhoyi Caves and Tina with an amusingly named (but sadly unused) boat called 'Bitch'. After the ferry across Lake Kariba, and then a trip up to the dam, it was time to leave the Zambezi and take care of some climbing instead. It was about 70km to Makuti, my next intended stop, but up a ruddy great hill. I had no idea how bad it was, but the locals had certainly built it up into an ascent of biblical proportions. I was away by 8:30 as I figured, even if horribly steep, that was plenty of time to get there in daylight hours. I also had plenty of food from the Zambian hostesses and my supermarket sweep so no need to worry about that. I smashed some yoghurt, banana and a muesli sachet and got on my way. There was a bit of dirt road taking me through the township, and then a right onto the tar and straight, straight, straight. It started off pretty civilised, and although warming up, I would describe it as largely flat. However, after about 30km the road started to climb, and rather steeply at that. The road had been pretty quiet and I hadn't seen much apart from some hunters going the other way, but it was tremendous scenery and very beautiful riding. This was just as well because I was not moving fast. I'd taken a couple of breaks but was otherwise just getting on with it when two women pulled alongside and said they wanted to talk to me. Another photo shoot and autograph request I thought, but naturally I cheerfully agreed. It turned out to be Rose Worthington, who knows Ant well, and was going to have hosted me in Kariba the night before if only she'd seen the message in time. It turns out that Caz, in all her brilliance, had been hustling accommodation for me via Facebook. Amazing! We chatted for a bit and after robbing her of her water they carried on. It wasn't long after that when the aforementioned hunters came back the other way, passing me. They wound down the window and asked if I'd like a drink. What a popular chap I was! They passed me an icy coke and a bottle of water, along with 2 boiled eggs and we chatted for a bit - mostly about how horrendous the hill to come was, and the likelihood of me being eaten in the remaining 20km. I just told them to clear a path for me using their trusty firearms. Just as they were about to leave, one of them slipped me $50 and said that it was great to meet someone so mad, and that I must treat myself to a good bed and a steak. What top blokes, and I was left pedaling on a high from having come across so many nice people in such a short space of time. I was still quite worried though as the bottom half had been quite steep, and apparently worse was to come. I lunched under a big baobab and steeled myself for the momentous alpine ascent ahead. It turned out to be pure hyperbole and the top section was pretty tame to be honest. I arrived in Makuti at about 2, with plenty of time and energy to spare. I trotted off to the only hotel in 'town' and asked if I could camp. The signs (literally) weren't good as there was a 'No Camping. No Picnics' sign in the carpark but I chose to be optimistic. Edmos the receptionist dashed my dreams. He was a top oke but he would under no circumstances let me camp due to management basically being knobs. He said to try the police station and otherwise gave me the number for the ranger for a Zim National Parks campsite. The issue was that the campsite was 15km towards Chirundu, both downhill and in the wrong direction, so I decided to try my luck at the police station. It was impossible to miss as they were running a massive roadblock just outside it. I wasn't sure if they were pulling me over or not, but it suited me fine when they said they wanted to talk to me for a minute. There was much 'Eish-ing' and 'Eee, it's too far-ing' but we eventually made some progress and I was sent to the station to ask them for permission. After another half an hour or so it transpired that I had to ask someone more senior at the roadblock. I returned and was then informed by said senior guy that the guy I needed to talk to was more senior still, and had just left to go and watch some football in Kariba. He wouldn't be back until 7, but I could call him. Alas, upon dialing I had no credit - for some reason Zim just munches credit for no reason - so I had to go to the local shebeen for more airtime. Here an explanation of my endeavour caused much confusion: responses ranged from 'how much do they pay you?' to 'are you winning, where are the others?' to 'are they tracking you so you don't cheat?'. Anyway, after clarifying that I was just an excellent solo charity bloke, not a cheat or a scammer, I went back to the roadblock. What ensued was painless - approval granted. I was instructed to set up my tent right in the middle of the plot, next to the road. I wasn't terribly thrilled with the position, but it was free. I needn't have worried as I was swiftly relocated inside the station. Nothing as glamourous as a cell, but rather a store cupboard. The concrete floor made pitching the Coffin hard work as it only stays upright if you have it pegged under tension but it afforded me the opportunity to use the 10m of cord I'd brought with me. I probably didn't need to use the tent, but decided it would keep any mozzies off so went for it. Once set up I read a bit and then mooched about to make friends. Jospeh Matete and I became firm friends after a trip to the borehole and back, and I must say he was a very nice guy. His efforts to teach me Shona were largely wasted, but he did say that I must go to the Chinhoyi caves and try to chuck a stone over the water. He said it was impossible, even with a catapult, due to magnetic forces. Challenge accepted! My petrol stove struck fear and wonder into the station at large, but I didn't burn the place down so it was a success (I cooked off some onions and peppers and had with tuna and boiled eggs). After a night in the police station at Makuti it was off down to Karoi, about 80km away. I got up pretty early even though there wasn't really a rush, and a good job too, as at 7:15 I was invaded by a police force intent on using my bedroom to change in for their 8AM parade. I was off by 8:20 and feeling a bit paranoid about the trucks, so donned my helmet for the first time in quite a while. The wind was absolutely pumping and the first 30km were pretty grim. The route was also certainly not the downhill cruise I was expecting. Yesterday was 1200m climbing and the run to Karoi ended up being 900m. I found my stride eventually and started to rack up the kms, making good progress. I started to come across old tobacco curing houses and a lovely old steam engine used (as the locals told me) to recondition the leaves for grading once cured. I was heading for Alex & Lorna Stidolph, who Caz had organised for me to stay with, and their farm just outside Karoi. I got there at about 1, having clocked a decent average speed of 22kph. Alex and I had a bit of lunch and then he took me on a tour of the farm. This was my first intro to tobacco and very interesting stuff. He grows about 40ha of tobacco and has about 85 full timers on the farm! Tobacco growing is extremely labour intensive I came to realise. I shan't go into too many details but it was fascinating stuff and the complete opposite of highly mechanised, low-labour UK agriculture. We then got stuck into some beers and talked more farming, cycling etc etc. Alex is surrounded by females - Lorna, 3 delightful little girls and a menagerie of lady dogs too, but he handled the females very well indeed, I must say. I suppose he's well used to it, after all! After a lovely evening with the Stidolph's the next day I was off to another host organised by the fabulous Caz in Mazvikadei. That's a bit of a deviation so the agreement was for Tony (another mad, albeit more seasoned, cycle tourer) to meet me in Banket. That would be about 110km. Before leaving I had a look around the drying and grading sheds in the morning followed by a tour of the nursery where they are trialling Stevia (the new on trend healthy sugar from S America) and Eucalyptus. The gum trees are interesting as they are going to be needed to replace a lot of indigenous timber which the smallholders cut and burn to dry their tobacco. After the tour and a huge breakfast (and first taste of mealie porridge - surprisingly ok) I persuaded Alex to brave the roadblocks and run me into town as we were running late (and he had to get food for the (female) rabbits). Again, I struggled a bit initially, and the road was once again quite lumpy. I wouldn't have swapped it for Bots though as it was scenic enough to make up for it. After about 30km I got into my stride and was motoring along at an average of about 23kph. I'm often loathe to stop when things are going well, but by 12 I'd done 55km and saw a nice shady tree by a little lake with water lilies (and lots of rubbish). I pulled over and started prepping lunch, which basically consisted of remembering which pannier I'd put the sandwiches Lynette made me in. I was munching away when a guy appeared from the bush, barefoot and largely toothless. I felt a bit awkward as wasn't sure if he was angling for my lunch, which I didn't really want to share. Anyway, he gabbered away in Shona for a bit, and then disappeared. I was then on sandwich number 4 when he reappeared with what looked like a load of spinach. Much Shona, and me insisting on my inability to speak it in English, followed and I thought he was trying to make me buy greens for lunch. Being very impractical as a snack I began to get a bit eggy, but we parted on good terms in the end having exchanged (and since fogotten) names. Then I was on the way again and had done another 10km when I saw a sign for Lion's Den. I'd heard about this steak and biltong joint since Kariba and was keen to go for one of their legendary rolls, but has been told that they both closed at 1 on Saturdays, and were located near Banket ie too far away to reach in time. I glanced at my watch - 1:01 - could it be that I could manage to plunder a steak roll as a second lunch?! With Chloe's instructions to always eat lots ringing in my ears, I prised open the shop doors and placed my order. Success! At $14 for a roll, ginger beer and some biltong, it was an expensive stop by my SA standards, but a box ticked and extra sustenance. It didn't do much for my rhythm and made for some rather bloated, uncomfortable riding, but overall no regrets. After about another hour I started getting tooted a lot, and recognised the convoy of Dutchies from the ferry who had headed up to Mana Pools. I caught up with them at the Chinhoyi Caves and had a bit of a chat. The caves were a bit sooner than I wanted, but nothing could be done about that and they came highly recommended by Joseph and Caz, so I lied about being a Saffer and paid $8 entry ($10 for others). The parks guys were being a bit dickish, saying I needed a permit for my duiker skull and not allowing me to take my catapult (for the stone experiment) through. I ignored them on both counts but this backfired somewhat when a ranger decided to shadow me in order to enforce the rules. He was a rather smelly chap who overall detracted from the experience, especially when he said it was an extra $2 to use a camera. I told him not to be so stupid and made him take pictures of me and my duiker handbag as punishment for his insolence. The cheeky sod then asked for a coke at the end but I decided to treat him as I quite enjoyed winding him up. Back on the road by 3, I still had 30km to go so I gave Tony an ETA of 4:20. The run into Chinhoyi was fine, drafting a little tractor and fertiliser spreader for a bit. He was quite surprised to see me there I think, and it was a good pace for about 5km, the drawbacks being it was a noisy bloody thing that obscured pothole detection and covered me in fertiliser dust whenever he drove through them. Last 20km I was getting a bit tired, but made Banket Mac Morgan fuel station bang on time. Tony picked me up and we put Tina in the bakkie and tackled the 20km or so of dirt to Mazvikadei. There I met the whole gang - parents, sister and niece and nephew, who were all very lovely. Watched the Lions give the Bulls a good smacking at Ellis Park and then ate a whole load of roast chicken, all washed down with a few beers. Tony was a wealth of knowledge as had just cycled Uganda to Vic Falls, including getting the Liemba ferry that I want to catch. They also had a little sausage dog puppy which was very cute. The next morning had a slow start and by the time we had eaten a very large and tasty fry up it was getting on. We then loaded Tina onto their boat and took the 15 minute ride across the glass smooth and deserted lake to the bridge. It was all very cool and by 10.40 I was on my way to Mvurwi to visit the big Forrester estate there. The cycle to Forrester was dirt roads for the first 22km, and again I was feeling rather sluggish initially. Luckily there was roadkill, an old plough and lots of great scenery to distract me and by the time I hit the tar I was feeling better. I came across an extremely bored looking roadblock at the t-junction, and would come across 2 more later on. That's in addition to the 8 from Karoi to Banket and I must admit that I found it rather perplexing that I hadn't seen a single police car in all my time in Zim. How did these okes get to their chosen bribery hotspots - I certainly can't imagine motorists offering them a lift given their intended activity, but there we go. Apart from the great scenery I passed some Zimasco mining sites (interesting as I used to fix some of their chrome exports) a baboon as big as a horse, and many, many potholes. The estate was further than expected and I also got a bit lost which didn't help my humour. Anyway, I found the right section of the farm (it's 12,000ha so rather large) but had a real meltdown when, despite asking about a million locals where Chris Brooker's house (the GM I was staying with) was, I ended up at HQ, with the house about 3km away (and uphill). I demanded a bakkie to take me back to the house as I was tired and fed up by now, having clocked 85km, and extra 15 on what I was expecting, a lot of it on dirt. My obvious displeasure shook them all up a bit and a guy on a motorbike appeared and said he would take me back to the house. It wasn't a bakkie but it had a motor so I was happy. I selected my favourite pannier (clothes) and my duiker handbag and off we went. He wasn't a great driver and the first few gear changes convinced me that my cycle trip was likely to end at 1600km on a sandy road in Mvurwi. There were also no rear pegs so I had to alternate between resting them on the exhaust and kickstand, or stretching them out in front. Neither position was comfortable, and I was extremely grateful to arrive cramp and horrific injury free. I then dropped my stuff and jumped onto my own (albeit child's) motorbike and followed a guy up to Gota house where my host and co were having lunch. Everyone was pretty well oiled by the time I arrived - so much so that they thought I was coming by motorbike, not bicycle. When I explained that I had in fact arrived by motorbike, but only for the last bit, that caused much confusion. The driveway snaked its way up to the top of a huge granite koppie, and then you burst out onto the top, with the most James Bond style lair I'd ever seen, stretching its way across the horizon. Apparently it took 7 years to build, and it was all polished concrete and floor to ceiling glass. It was an uber cool house, but the centre piece was the view - out across a dam on the estate with not a single other house in sight! It turns out that it was the house of the owners of the estate, which explained why it was so impressive. We headed back to Chris's at about 6 and had a braai before chatting some Zim, family and estate history. It used to be owned by Poms (Forrester & Thomson) but they sold it to the Austrian Von Prentsels in 1988. I'm told they got a very good price, but due to land reform the estate has shrunk from a gargantuan 21,000Ha to a far more moderate 12,000. That put the arable at about 3,000Ha, down from 7,000, with about 700Ha currently under tobacco, employing about 2,500 people. The next day we were up early and Chris and I headed to HQ. Tina was still there with all her accoutrements so John the security guard got a hearty handshake. We then spent the day touring the estate, taking a look at tobacco grading, pea and mange tout growing, picking and packing, citrus orchards and finally the lemon packing facility in town. It's a very impressive set up with a tonne of staff (5 full time mechanics for example) and was a very interesting insight into large-scale farming in Zim. The plan was then to cycle the 90km to Harare on Tuesday morning, but Chris was driving down to do a recce on the sales so insisted (not that I took a whole bunch of persuading) on putting the bike in the back of the Land Crusier seeing as he was going anyway. We made an early start and then hit a couple of tobacco trading floors. The first one was a competitive floor with bales of tobacco zooming about on trolleys pulled by frantically beeping drivers. There was a real buzz there, as you'd probably expect from a trading floor, and it was highly amusing watching the buying line do the conga down the aisles scrapping, whooping and arguing about who had won what. It was a fast paced affair, with each bale auctioned in about a second or two. Then the label guys followed behind marking up who bought what with the price etc. I had very little idea of what was going on, but apparently it was conducted in English, not Shona as I had initially thought. The second floor was a private one run by Northern Tobacco and altogether a more sedate affair, although they had a fancy conveyor belt for the bales in this place. This stuff is all grown under contract against input finance (banks no longer like lending to Zim farmers due to securitisation issues) so the prices are just settled against the day's matrix. It's a complicated affair as there are about 300 variables in terms of type, grades,colour and disease level, but just not as exciting as the open market. That concluded my foray into tobacco (and not a cigarette neared my lips) and then it was just a case of trotting about 2km down the road to Caz and Bren's. It's from their spot near Alexandra Park that I am abusing both the formidable snack-preparing talent of their chef Jean and their super-fast (ish) fibre wifi. That's why you've got so many pictures this time! They've been excellent hosts and I've had a lovey time in Harare so far. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting, but I must say it seems a pleasant city and a lot more functioning than I thought it might be: indeed it is quite civilised and I recommend a visit. That brings you all up to speed now, and the next update will cover the remainder of Harare and then the push through Moz into Malawi.
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AuthorSam Brook - A mildly Africanised Pom about to cycle from Joburg to Nairobi. Archives
August 2017
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