To the shore of Lake Kariba
Jenny owns a lodge in the Matusadona National Park, on the shore of Lake Kariba. She knows that area well, but we also want to explore the “interior”, away from the water.
The idea is to see whether a South African tourist could feasibly travel along this northern route: Enter at Vic Falls from either Botswana or Zambia, visit three national parks – Hwange, Chizarira and Matusadona – and exit the country again at Kariba (we drove the route from the other end, starting at Matusadona).
On the map it looks simple. But what are the roads like? Where would one find fuel? Food? Accommodation? And, most importantly, is it safe?
We drive out of Harare, following the A1 towards the town of Chinhoyi, where we meet our travel companions Jan and Alida Stander. Jan, who used to be a professional hunter, is now a wildlife protection officer.
 After a breakfast of scrambled eggs and home-made bread we load the Nissan Patrol. I leave it to Jan – here’s clearly someone who can fit three sheep, 17 pumpkins and a bicycle into the boot of an Uno.
Karoi is the next town on the A1. Just past it, at the Twin River Inn, we turn left. From here, according to the road sign, it’s 25 km to Magunje, 262 km to Bumi Hills and 343 km to Binga. It’s almost all gravel, because the tar runs out at Magunje.
The landscape is hilly, the road dropping down into dry valleys, then past threadbare grass-and mud huts clinging to dusty little flats. The rains haven’t come yet.
Near the Sanyati River we come across an overturned truck, white cotton bleeding out of burst bales. The drivers are resting under the trailer in the shade. Jan walks over to them – they’ve been here for two days and are still waiting for their boss to come help them. At least they have water. We leave them some food and drive on.
Finally we turn to the north. We are now on the main road into Matusadona. It’s mountainous terrain (the Matuzviadonah range gives the park its name), and a 4x4 is compulsory.
When Jan and Jenny talk about “the Matus”, it’s with respect. It’s a wild place. You don’t just visit the Matus, you go into the Matus.
We cross several dry river beds – during the wet season it’s not a good idea to enter the park along this road. As we approach the flats next to the lake, Jan looks back at Jenny and me.
“It’s time; please close your windows.”
Jan knows exactly where the tsetse belt starts.
“Copy that,” Jenny says, and we close the windows.
They are so used to radio terminology that they use it in normal conversation. “Copy that” or “Confirm”, as in “Confirm: red in a rock means iron?”
 It’s a relief when we finally reach the lake. It’s still bloody hot, but at least a slight breeze has sprung up. Tonight we camp at Tashinga, currently the most accessible of Matusadona’s campsites – the roads to the other ones (Sanyati West, Jenje and Changachirere) are overgrown and better reached by boat.
In the distance a houseboat is moored, and some of the guests are fishing off a smaller boat closer to shore. It’s a jolly crowd and they’re catching one fish after the other. By their accents I can hear they’re locals – their voices easily reach me across the water. The sun sets in spectacular fashion behind Bumi Hills. It’s the kind of postcard image one once associated with Zimbabwe. I hope and pray that it will soon be the case again. 

In the morning we drive to Jenny’s lodge, Rhino Safari Camp, further east along the lake. The low, dense bush presses onto the road, stifling our view.
“It’s called jesse bush,” Jan says, “If you get lost in the jesse, there’s trouble.”
From above it must look like a maze. Not the kind of place you’d like to run into an elephant – and we’ve seen a few big ones already, on the lake shore near Tashinga.
At the lodge, we unpack and start to look for ways to cool down. We want to swim, but swimming in Kariba is not a good idea, as it’s both bilharzia- and croc-infested. But Jan has a plan, at least for the crocs. The trick is to splash around in the shallows of the lake, where a sand bank shields you from the deeper waters. You have to see the croc coming...
When it has cooled down, we drive to where the Karonga River flows into the lake. This area is known as Mukadzapela. It means “the animals are finished”, because when Kariba was constructed and the waters started rising, the last of the animals airlifted from flooded islands were brought here.
As Jenny had hoped, we find the black rhino Mvura. Jenny knows Mvura well – she was bred in captivity and released here, and has kept to the area around the lodge ever since. Mvura now has a calf of her own, Murume. 
We sleep well, and it’s only in the morning that we see proof of a silent visitor – the tracks of a lion that walked through the camp during the night.

At dead man’s gorge
Leaving Matusadona, we turn westwards. The bridge over the Ume River has washed away, but because it’s dry, we just drive through the river bed.
In Siyakobvu we stop for a blind man shuffling across the road. There’s a huge marquee tent full of bags of mealiemeal – apparently part of the government’s food programme. Across the road 10 people in white robes sing outside a small church hall – they’re “mapostori”, members of the Apostolic Church.
Parts of the road are very bad, but elsewhere the locals have fixed it themselves. Suddenly Jan stops. Right next to the road is a brand new mokoro.
Jan gets out and calls someone over. “Is it for sale?”
“No,” the boy replies, “it’s already been sold. It just has to be picked up.”
Jan finds out who made the mokoro and we continue on our way. He’s not interested in buying a mokoro; he just wanted to know who the culprit is. Mokoro- making has been banned in Zimbabwe in an effort to protect the big indigenous trees.
Mokoros are still legal in Zambia, so there’s a market for them just across the Zambezi.
We sleep just outside the park at Chizarira Lodge, which looks out over a beautiful valley.
Like many other lodges in Zim, it’s pretty quiet. Owner Craig van Zyl and his wife Calla also arrive – they live in Harare. There simply isn’t enough money to keep everything in shape, but the lodge is still open, technically speaking. Craig is busy fixing the water pump.
Craig and Jan are real bush people – always barefoot. Their heels are as hard as an elephant’s. Now they’re busy comparing heels.
“Put on Vaseline before you go to sleep,” says Craig, “and put on a pair of socks. Then they’re soft the next day.”
Jan’s advice is to score the cracked skin “with your Leatherman or something,” but it has to be in squares – not Vs.
If the Swedes were here, they’d be calling their embassy by now.
We hand over our whole chest of food to the cooks so they have lots of ingredients to choose from. We eat like kings; there’s even pizza!
The window in my chalet is broken, so the wind blows from the kloof into my room all night, the mosquito net billowing around me like a sail. I get up a couple of times. Standing out on the balcony, it feels as if the entire Zimbabwe is blowing over me.
We drive into the park early in the morning. The Chizarira Hills form the northern border of the park. It’s more of an escarpment than a series of hills, however, and only a few rivers have carved passages through it. Our road follows one of these gorges.
We find ourselves in another world. Giant trees such as Natal and red mahogany, ebony (jackal berry) and ana trees dominate, but there are also smaller species like Kundanyoka knobwood, wild fig and muwanga, one of the hardest woods you’ll ever encounter.
Birds are everywhere. A beautiful yellow African golden oriole darts from one tree to the next; in the distance a crowned eagle soars; and from somewhere comes the racket of a trumpeter hornbill.
It’s clear that Chizarira is better tended than Matusadona – the roads are well maintained and all the road signs are freshly painted. It’s thanks to the park’s senior wildlife officer, “Paul” Kudakwashe Madzivadondo, Jan tells me.
All we have time for is to visit the spectacular view sites (there are small campsites at both) looking out over the Mucheni Gorge. Cliffs drop from under your feet for 150 m or more. Far below, game paths crisscross uphill from the river like threads in a delicately woven mat.
Except for Victoria Falls, Zim’s national parks are basically empty at the moment.
For nature lovers who enjoy real peace and quiet, a park like Chizarira could be the best place they ever discover.

Thieving out in the open
Jenny’s probably very used to being jolted around in a car – her mother-in-law has a Land Rover with 1,3 million km on the clock! – but we’re all very relieved when we finally hit the tar again, 30km shy of Binga. 
Binga is one of the Kariba’s “harbour towns”, where houseboats dock, fill up and offload. About six are at anchor here, but no passengers are getting onboard – it’s still busy, though, with workers doing maintenance.
After the heat of the Zambezi valley it’s heaven to dive into the guest house’s pool. Civilisation rules! Suddenly we have ceiling fans and fridges that work, and soon plans are made for a braai. The garden around the guest house is a pantry to dream of, with bananas, dates, coconuts, mangoes, pawpaws and mielies.
We are right next to the lake. As dusk falls, Jan keeps an eye on a fishing boat close to shore. Boats fishing for kapenta have to be at least 3 km offshore – and this one isn’t. As it gets dark, a light goes on and the nets go down. A kapenta thief right here in front of us!
The guest house is like a museum dedicated to the ’80s – it seems like nothing, not a piece of furniture or cutlery, has been moved from it since Dallas was a hit.
Jan is good friends with Anton Visser, who runs the Binga Rest Camp. Jan once paid off his bar tab at Binga by painting a mural of a buffalo in the bar – it’s still there.
The hot springs at the Rest Camp is a scorching 79ºC at source, from where it flows into a couple of large pools. The camp has been here since the ’60s.
 Anton also runs a shop, a general dealer that stocks both everything and nothing. His sister and brother-in-law, Yolande and Charlie, are just back from a shopping trip to Francistown in Botswana.
“You should’ve seen all the Cremora they had!” says Yolande, “Charlie lives on the stuff! But we could buy only one big pack...”
 A dog with an enormously long tongue, Stompie, lies panting on the cool shop floor. I notice Anton uses a diary from 1987. 
“It works,” he says, shrugging. 
“What should people bring along when they come to Binga?” I ask him.
He looks around the shop. “Mostly everything.”
They sometimes have fuel in Binga, but not today. There might be some in Hwange.
Anton is proof that you can make a living with very little in Zimbabwe. He has a houseboat, Cornelia (named after his mother), for which he is awaiting parts “from the South” – as South Africa is called.
He sends us on our way with a box of delicious mangoes.

And hungry rangers
Jenny wants to take me to the Painted Dog Conservation Project, an organisation that works to protect African wild dogs.
Inside their building (it’s got an amazing thatched dome) there is a child-friendly display where you can learn more about wild dogs.
You can see the project is well funded – computers hum happily in the offices.
The rehabilitation centre is directly behind the offices, where eight wild dogs are resident at the moment. They’re from three different families, so they are kept in different camps. Angela and John are the tamest of the lot (but not that tame – you’d better stay on the right side of the fence!) and will live out their lives here.
Jenny has organised for us to stay with the researchers for the night. Even though we’re outside the park, we see lots of game. At one waterhole, a herd of buffalo; at another, four raptor species.
When we drive into Hwange National Park the next morning, it’s cloudy and cool. We don’t get to see the massive herds of elephant for which Hwange is famous. The rains have already started here, so the game is scattered and not concentrated around the waterholes.
We see enough of a variety, though: buffalo, elephant, lion, giraffe, hippo, impala, kudu, waterbuck, warthog, zebra, mongoose, duiker, dassie, steenbok, squirrel and a single regal roan antelope. We also tick off 80 bird species during our short drive.
After a dull stretch, Alida suddenly shouts excitedly. Two lionesses have just run across the road, with a small herd of buffalo in pursuit. Yes, the buffalo are chasing the lions!
We stop to see what’s going on, but the bush is very thick. There are calves with the buffalo, so maybe the lions tried their luck and then the buffalo turned on them. The buffalo are now moving away from the lions. After a while the lions start following them again, but when the buffalo turn to face them, they skulk away and melt into the bush, gone. Wow.
We pull in at the Shumba picnic site for lunch, where we meet Trust Mudimba and Mixture Donga. They look after the windmill, as Shumba is an important waterhole (currently it harbours three grumpy hippos).
Trust and Mixture live here while on duty, in a small building fenced in so poorly that it won’t keep even a sheep out, or in. Just the other night they were visited by the local pride of lions, one of which ate a bar of soap off the window sill while they lay inside, terrified.
Things are not well at Shumba. Trust and Mixture have been on duty for 37 days straight, with no relief coming even though the main camp is only 71 km away and Sinamatella (where we’re heading) 37 km the other way. We can’t take them with us; the Patrol is too full. Trust gives us a letter to drop off at Sinamatella:

To whom it may concern:

Hopefully you are doing quite well there. Backing to us here we’re jus’ surviving by the grace of God. We advise you that, we have run short of food. We have totally nothing to feed this evening. To our surprise the little we had, we discovered that when we prepared our supper yesterday; it changed to green-yellowish. So we throw it away. Then, we don’t know what took place on our absence on Saturday. Please we kindly beg for an uplift so that we can go and search for food. We then look forward to your response today because we don’t even have something to feed.

From Shumba Camp, Trust.

Here, for the first time during our journey, we are face to face with the crisis in Zimbabwe. Many people don’t have food. The money they earn is so worthless that they can’t buy anything with it. Even if you have money in the bank, you are only allowed to withdraw a small amount every day, which means that you can’t withdraw your entire salary during a month even if you go to the bank every day.
Trust shows me the green pap they threw away. We leave some of our food with them and drive on, less jolly.

The last pillar
As long as the Zambezi roars, people will flock to Victoria Falls to see this amazing sight. Even though many access the Falls from Zambia’s side these days, there is no doubt that the Falls look far more impressive from the Zim side – especially during the dry season.
In the town of Vic Falls, it’s as if the Zim crisis doesn’t exist. There are nice campsites and luxury hotels. Tourists come, see, stay, eat and buy. And they ask each other things like, “Do the females always have smaller horns?” when they take photos of warthog grazing on the hotel lawns.
We go to Elephant Hills Hotel for a beer – $5 for a Castle. Nomatter Moyo is the barman. I ask him to explain. He laughs. “I was the fifth son, and by that time my parents wanted a girl. But then they said, ‘No matter…’!”
The Falls never disappoint. It costs me R220 to enter, but Jan, Alida and Jenny are paying in Zim dollars – Z$400 000 per person. When we come out three hours later, the board has changed – it now costs Z$1 000 000! Inflation while you wait...
Jenny and I also pop in at the Victoria Falls Safari Lodge, which is as colonial as it gets. The view from their front garden is spectacular – you see the train bridge, the gorge and the spray coming from the falls. A guard patrols the lawns with a .22. His job is to keep the baboons away, because they bother the tourists, steal their scones from their plates and that sort of thing. As I chat to him, a male and female baboon are getting up to naughty business on the far end of the lawn.
Jan takes Alida out to dinner on the last night. They go to the Boma, a famous Vic Falls African restaurant. Jan digs around in the back of the Patrol for his shoes. After 1000 km of harsh terrain, he now puts on his shoes for the first time. Not because the tar will be hot or the path full of thorns – just out of decency.
He also wears a clean shirt. One of his favourite shirts has a big rip across the back – that’s from when he followed a wounded leopard into a cave during his days as a professional hunter. He also helped to deliver all three his children while wearing this shirt.
They have a fantastic night out, while Jenny and I relax at Lorrie’s B&B. “It was an adventure to do this trip at this time in our country’s history,” Jenny admits. I can’t agree more.
They drop me at the airport the next morning. They still have to drive home, via Bulawayo (they also want to pop in at the Matobos). We’ve known one another for only a week, but it’s hard to say goodbye.
It’s not easy living in Zimbabwe – except perhaps for Mugabe and a few of his cronies. But despite all the problems, Jan, Alida and Jenny are here to stay. This is their home. And they believe things will be good again, soon.
One can’t help but pray that this will be the case.

How does the money work?
The Zim dollar? It doesn’t.
Take American dollars (also in small denominations), as most of the reserves, campsites and hotels accept payment in US dollars, even though, technically speaking, it’s illegal. In some places you can also pay with South African rands. 
Try to take most of your camping food with you, unless you have friends in Zim who can help you with advance purchases. You can get food in some shops, but supplies are not reliable. 

Fuel
Can you find any?
Yes, there is fuel, but you have to be strategic in your planning. If you want to drive this route, the best idea is to start in Vic Falls and drive to Kariba via the three parks. In Livingstone (the Zambian side of the Falls) and Vic Falls (the town) you should find fuel, and Hwange is also pretty reliable. Binga is a gamble, and from there to Kariba you won’t find any fuel. You just have to fill up your jerry cans whenever you can.
Addx Trading in South Africa has fuel depots in Bulawayo and Harare. You purchase the fuel in advance, they give you a reference number and you then pick up your fuel at either of their depots. You can buy as many 20 litre coupons as you want. The current price per litre is R6 for petrol and R7 for diesel, but it obviously changes all the time.
Contact Addx Trading:
011 974 4434 (Angelique);
angie@addxtrading.co.za
Redan Petroleum’s coupons can also be bought in advance, but you can only pick them up in Harare. Redan has arrangements with a number of fuel stations around the country, including Hwange, Gweru and Beit Bridge. Its prices (which will also change) are 90 US cents a litre for petrol and U$1 for diesel.
Contact Redan Petroleum:
00 263 44 464 12/5;
00 263 91 243 1893;
00 263 91 243 3219;
info@redan.co.zw

What about cholera?
The cholera epidemic is concentrated in high-density urban areas as well as rural areas where there has been a breakdown in basic infrastructure. When travelling to tourist destinations (such as in our article), your chances of coming into contact with cholera are slim.
The WHO has set up treatment centres in the hardest-hit areas. It is advisable to always drink boiled water if you can, or bottled water if you can find it.

Is it safe?
Keep an eye on the news and avoid potentially volatile areas. Try to phone ahead to your destinations so you can get first-hand information about the latest developments. Pack a good first-aid kit and an extra spare tyre.

Matusadona National Park
Entry: US$15 per person, US$5 per vehicle.
Camping at Tashinga: US$12 per person (children’s price was unavailable); guided nature walk: U$10 per person for an hour.

Rhino Safari Camp
Beautiful rustic units right on Lake Kariba. You also have to pay the Matusadona park fees and, if you prefer to come by boat, the transfer cost is U$400 for a boat carrying six.
Cost: Self-catering for R250 per person or B&B for R300 per person. All activities such as game drives, guided walks and fishing are extra. A fully inclusive rate (all meals and activities) is also available.
Contact: 00 273 4 753901/4 (Jenny); rhino.safari.camp@mail.com. Booking is essential.

Chizarira National Park
Entry: US$10 per adult, US$5 per child 12 to 18 years old, free for under-12s. US$5 per vehicle.
Camping: US$5 per adult and US$2,50 per child; guided nature walk: US$20 per person per day.

Chizarira Lodge
Where? Near the park’s main entrance.
Cost: U$25 per person for a self-catering chalet. Take own diesel for the generator and own food (which the cooks can prepare).
Contact: 00 263 4884 226 (Craig van Zyl); craig@classic.co.zw

Binga
Binga Rest Camp: Chalets at US$10 per person sharing with breakfast for US$12 extra. We rented a guest house for four people (right on the lake) through Binga Rest Camp for US$70.
Contact: 00 263 15 244 (Anton Visser); bingarest@yoafrica.com

Kulizwe Rest Camp: Camping costs R30 per adult, R20 per child between 6 and 12, younger children free). Chalets for R120 (up to four people, self-catering). Wood for sale. Swimming pool, braai places. If you go by boat, take your own fuel and oil.
Contact: 00 263 15 545 (Gail Howard); kulizwe@mweb.co.zw

Hwange National Park
Entry: US$15 per adult (or R120 at the time), US$8 children 6 to 12 years old, US$5 per vehicle.
Camping: US$15 per person at the rest camps or US$10 at the picnic spots.

Victoria Falls National Park
Entry: R220 per person (South Africans have to take an ID or passport as proof of citizenship).

Vic Falls
Victoria Falls Rest Camp Lodge is right in town. The grounds are big enough for you to find a quiet corner. There is security, a good restaurant and a pool.
Camping: US$10 per adult, US$7 for kids under 12. Vehicle: US$8.
Chalets: US$25 per chalet for up to four people; US$34 for up to six people.
Where? On Parkway Road in town.
Contact: 00 263 13 40509/ 11; 00 263 13 42752; campsite@africaonline.co.zw

Lorrie’s B&B is nice and quiet, and has a big garden and pool. There’s a bar full of characters, safe parking and good meals.
Cost: US$28 per person B&B, with dinner US$10 extra.
Where? Follow the signs from Livingstone Way on the corner where the Sprayview Hotel is.
Contact: 00 263 13 42139 (Lorrie)

Plan B* (*B is for bargain)
Inyathi Valley Motel & Rest Camp & Caravan Park is cheap and has functional ablution facilities (but the pool was empty).
Cost: Camping at US$5 per person, chalets at US$10 per person.
Where? On Parkway Road in the direction of Elephant Hills.
Contact: 00 263 13 40211

Notes: Prices in Zim cannot be guaranteed, as things change all the time. Use these only as a guideline. Phone and e-mail contact is erratic, so please be patient when trying to contact people. Plan your stay well in advance.

The parks we visited are in malaria areas, so take precautionary measures.

Thank you to Nissan Zimbabwe for lending us a vehicle.

For bookings at Hwange, Matusadona and Chizarira national parks (though you can just rock up, it won’t be full!), contact 00 263 470 6077/8; reservations@zimparks.co.zw; www.zimparks.com

The very helpful Zimbabwe Tourism Authority can be reached at its South African office on 011 616 9534/6 (ask for Ms Mukwena); zta@telkomsa.net

Read more about the Painted Dog Conservation project online at www.painteddog.org

(Note: Prices and information accurate in April 2009)