Open Writing

We returned from Botswana andmbabwe on a cold dry evening after a tiring but exhilarating trip. The journey was further than expected and had been hot in the coach. The trip north took us three days travelling through semi-desert countryside which is suffering under the widespread drought affecting the western parts of southern Africa.

We were a group of forty-five seniors, tolerant and prepared to overlook any small discomforts that might occur, while looking forward to the new and unusual places we would see. We knew that distances would be long and possibly conditions primitive at the occasional road-side stops and until we reached northern Botswana there wouldn’t be much of interest. Our route would take us north-west into the dry semi-Kalahari, but our first quick stop was in Britz, a satellite town of the big platinum producing area around Rustenburg.

Earlier we had left the dense Witwatersrand/Pretoria [now Tswane] conurbation, passed the flanks of the Magaliesberg and headed north-west towards the mineral-rich area around Rustenburg. In the distance lay the surface structures of several of the world’s biggest platinum mines. Increasing world demand for this vital metal is bringing huge profits and the area is thriving.

Some time later we drove through Thabazimbi [iron mountain] which lies in the Soutpansberg, an area of low, scrubby hills and rocky kranzes. This is a continuation of the Bushveld Igneous Complex that begins at Rustenburg from where the mineral rich orebody extends northwards to this outcrop of rich iron ore. A small sub-tropical town has grown up around the busy mine and the ore is railed to a smelter near Pretoria, and if world prices are favourable, there is a good market for the steel. Although the entry to the tiny town is ugly and polluted with iron dust, there are a few game ranches and farms in the area. A longer stay might provide something of interest but this was not the time for a visit, as we were at the start of a nine day holiday.

Botswana has a small population and one of the highest GDPs of any of the African countries south of the Equator, but little seems to be done for the rural areas and the desperately poor. Several rich diamond pipes have been found and the profits are shared between the Botswana government and the giant De Beers/Anglo American Corporation. Tourism comes a close second in earning foreign exchange, and the currency is strong, but despite these advantages, the northern areas are neglected and there is little evidence of investment or infrastructure development.

The contrast between first-world/New York-style Johannesburg and the semi-arid areas of Botswana and Zimbabwe is so great it feels as if one is on a different continent. It is difficult to comprehend how humans and animals exist in such a waterless environment. There appear to be no crops or herds and the only signs of life are many tiny villages of five to six mud huts with roofs of thatch and sticks inside stockades of thorn branches, all quiet and without movement. Even the ubiquitous African chickens and cattle are absent - although hordes of goats are everywhere, eating everything and turning the countryside into a dustbowl. Conditions are so bad it is hard to believe that any living creature can survive. Meanwhile, the locals sit listlessly in the scant shade preserving their energy, and - in the timeless African solution to a problem - doing nothing.

Our first night stop was Palape, a small, rather dreary town inside Botswana where we had a good dinner and comfortable accommodation and relaxed into well-earned slumber after our early start. Pressing on the following day, it seemed that we would never reach our goal, the Makgadikgadi Salt Pans, as we trundled down the empty, never-ending road. The vacant countryside became monotonous and rather boring, and gave one an entirely different concept of the term "from the African soil."

Then suddenly, bang ... we had blown a tyre. All piled out, rather glad of the diversion, while refreshments were consumed and the ladies strolled around enjoying the slight breeze. Meanwhile, the driver and the few men in the party ‘laboured mightily’ to replace the damaged tyre and before long all was fixed, and we moved off to universal sighs of relief.

Arriving at Nata Lodge by mid-afternoon, we freshened up before we were taken on a late afternoon drive into the Makgadikagadi Salt Pans. These cover over 6500 square kilometres and are the largest salt pans in the world. Bird life here is prolific, with flamingos, waders and waterfowl congregating mostly towards the northern edge, where the Nata River enters.

As we drove along, I questioned the well-spoken and experienced black guide who answered all my enquiries with care and knowledge. As we drove towards the setting sun over the perfectly flat pans, I noticed what seemed to be thousands of leaves lying on the sands. Knowing this could not be right, I asked the guide. “Flamingo feathers” he replied, the first indication of the huge numbers of birds frequenting these pans. They feed on the salt water shrimps which they sieve from the shallow waters with their strangely shaped beaks.

Then, as the sun was sinking, we got within sighting distance of the birds. There, far against the soft blue of late afternoon was a band of pink, moving gently from right to left. Through my binoculars I saw a great congregation of water birds. One could see pelicans and red-legged stilts and slightly further back flamingos by the thousand. Honking and calling to one another, they were feeding busily, undisturbed by the frequent arrival of four-wheel drive vehicles filled with gawking tourists.

The peace and beauty of the pans, so large and flat one can see the curvature of the earth, was a lovely interlude before the sun set and we returned to the well-appointed Nata Lodge to an tasty barbecue of various meats including impala and warthog.

Replete and more than ready for sleep we enjoyed our ‘safari-style’ bungalow furnished in an exciting departure from the traditional and rather passé Afro-style. The next morning, after an excellent breakfast, we left for Maun where the driver would replace the burst tyre.

Reaching Maun later in the day, we were driven to the tiny airport where we boarded four-seater planes, piloted by young New Zealanders and Australians who have made good careers flying visitors into the safari camps and up to Kasane for the Chobe Game Reserve. Although most of them are about the same age as my grandson and seem hardly old enough to have their driver’s licences, they are experienced pilots. They take tourists on short flips over the southern part of the Okavango swamps, an excellent alternative to camping or canoeing in the narrow and fragile makorokoros [dugout canoes]. Unluckily, the game had moved north waiting for the coming of the rains, so sightings were few, with none of the huge herds of plains game. But we saw zebra, elephant, giraffe, buffalo, and the occasional aquatic buck species, Red Letchwe or Sitatunga. They stood with lifted heads, startled by the noise of the plane overhead.

The following day we continued the journey north to Kasane, for a two day break at the Chobe Safari Lodge on the beautiful Chobe River. Disappointingly, we did not have many exciting sightings, possibly due to the severe drought and the animal’s need to be near water. After our early morning game drive and an excellent breakfast a leisurely few hours were spent relaxing in the peaceful grounds of the lodge. Here we saw the local answer to the problem of mowing the lawn; a family of warthogs on their knees nibbling the new grass. Mischievous grey monkeys swung through the trees, ever-alert for an open door. Spying one, they nip inside and steal anything edible. Their particular favourites are sugar sachets, sometimes left on breakfast and tea trays. Later that afternoon we boarded a flat-bottomed boat for the river cruise which was to prove the highlight of the visit.

The cruise provided us with sightings of an enormous variety of rare and seldom seen waterfowl, too numerous to mention. These include the African Skimmer, a rare visitor to northern Botswana which only breeds on isolated sandbanks in shallow rivers. It was a fantastic opportunity for bird lovers to notch up those ‘lifers’ so important for a comprehensive list of sightings. Elephants grazed quietly on a large island; crocodiles and monitor lizards lay on the river banks, the occasional hippo snorted and buck came down to the water to drink. The serene beauty of the late afternoon was timeless - a picture from the Garden of Eden.

The following day we crossed the border, reaching the small town of Victoria Falls where we were to spend a further two nights. The approach road lay through open bush and we had a number of sightings of elephant, giraffe and buck. The small town was very quiet, with few tourists and empty hotels. The on-going political problems are seriously affecting the tourist industry, despite the drawing power of the famous landmark.

Although the drought had been against us in the Okavango and Chobe Reserves, it worked in our favour when viewing the falls. The diminished volume of water, creating less spray and condensation, made it easy to view the splendour and majesty of the cascades without getting drenched. The viewing area is carefully laid-out and gives many opportunities to see the falls from every angle, and there is an abundance of small game and birds in the rainforest. Victoria Falls is a spectacular and wonderful experience. Another balm was the increased humidity after the drought stricken Kalihari, as well as a reduction in the exhausting heat. We all felt greatly refreshed with the change, the charm of the Zimbabweans and the luxurious accommodation.

A dinner at the Boma, a well-known restaurant offering a big menu of traditional foods, excellently braaied wild meats and big range of accompaniments, together with entertainment from the local African dancers and drummers was another highlight before we concluded our visit to Zimbabwe, exiting the country via the large commercial city of Bulawayo.

However, the situation is very bleak, with totally dry petrol stations showing no sign of life and movement. Long lines of stationary vehicles stand waiting - possibly for weeks - for the next petrol delivery. As the Mugabe government has no foreign currency to pay for the necessities of life, including petrol, it seems there is no short-term answer to the problems. The following example illustrates the effects of lack of fuel.

There are plans to widen the approach road to the Border Control at Beit Bridge and create a larger truck stop, improved facilities and parking areas for the hugely increased volume of heavy traffic carrying food and supplies for Zimbabwe and Zambia. Big construction works are underway. However, due to lack of fuel and money, little has been done for months and the heavy earth-moving machinery stands idle. Everything waits for fuel and there is no indication of when it will arrive. Hold-ups on these improvements are just one more casualty of the all-encompassing political upheaval.

As with all totalitarian regimes, corruption is rife. The evening before viewing the falls, our excellent tour leader had arranged for those interested to drive across the bridge linking Zimbabwe and Zambia to see the falls from the other side. Permission was granted by the border control and the tour leader was assured there would be no objections to the coach making the short trip.

On arrival at the border, the officials said they knew nothing of this arrangement and claimed that the coach was not permitted to cross, saying “The bridge is too old, the passengers must walk.” The tour leader pointed out that they were elderly folk and the distance too great. However the officials refused to allow the coach through, so reluctantly, it was decided to abandon the trip. Impossible to reverse, the driver made a ‘U’-turn around the customs buildings. Thereupon the officials said that he had left Zimbabwe without an exit permit and must pay a fine of US$300. The irritated and frustrated tour leader muttered under his voice “If this is the way you treat tourists, then you are going to starve to death.” A spot fine of 30 000 Zimbabwean dollars was immediately levied and he was told to walk a mile to the nearest police station to pay. As he left the area he was picked up by a large black car with tinted windows, causing everyone to fear that he was being arrested and taken to prison.

However, he paid [approximately SA R10.00] and returned to the group saying that the fine was for “Disturbing the peace.” The large black car had offered him a lift and there were no further repercussions. Needless to say, everyone knew that the US$300 would never reach any official coffers, disappearing immediately into a welcoming pocket.

The tour was excellent and we were very well looked after. We stayed in some lovely hotels offering good prices to any tourist prepared to visit considering the continuing petrol shortages and severe drought. Distances are great and the heat is trying and we suffered a further tyre blow-out before reaching Johannesburg. But the worst part was witnessing the ruination of a prosperous and viable country seemingly without a solution to its self-inflicted agony. There are signs of complete economic collapse and nobody seems to have any idea what the future holds. It is a tragic situation, affecting as it does, black and white, rich and poor alike.