Hell in Wales and Sixteen

At School before our trip

Denise

Lynda

So this small part of my life remains deeply imbedded in my memory, so much so I have never visited Wales again with the exception of picking up a tiny Sheltie puppy from the back of a car on the other side of the Seven Bridge.

I don’t know which parent organised it but I would say with absolute guarantee that it wasn’t my mother whose organisations skills don’t run to this.  It was decided that going on an adventure holiday for a week in the summer would be a good experience for four girls, one being a kind of friend at the time, Denise Gosheron, a good friend at the time, Lynda Fulton and my younger sister, Linda. An organisation I think fairly new on the scene at the time called PGL. 

I think it was Denise’s father that took us to Wales on a lovely sunny day where we were to spend a week in a tent beside Lake Llangorse.  I remember being bemused by the sudden language change as we crossed the border and indeed the sudden alphabet change, suddenly all my suspicions on grammar rules came to fruition.  My English teachers had been lying all along; either that or I am actually Welsh.  Being dyslexic it was nice to note that a whole section of the United Kingdom suffered under the same fate. 

A cheery wave from the delivery dad and of he sped in his flash Jaguar as if being chased by flesh eating zombies.  Only years later did I realise why parents left their kids with such gusto if an opportunity arose for other adults to look after them.  We were frog marched to our tent/wigwam which had a concrete floor and was obviously there on a permanent basis.  My question in my head was ‘they have already got foundations, why not go the whole hog and put a small house on top’, much more comfy’.  As I look around our tent I did wonder how much fun this would be.  I know I love the outdoors but I was and still am not the ‘sleep wherever I lay my head’ sort of person.  Even at this age I liked my comforts.  I’m probably more able to cope with discomfort now than I was then oddly.

The only time I put this stupid hat on

Yep we were all looking good.... 

We were given our itinerary for the week; Monday was sailing in the morning and pony trekking in the afternoon, Tuesday canoeing then sailing, Wednesday pony trekking and the caving/pot holing.  And so it went on till pick up on Saturday.

It dawned on me how much water was involved in these activities…now you must understand my talent in any water sport is very limited.  Firstly, I was nearly 10 before I learnt to swim and by swim I mean doggy paddle, by 16 I could do the breaststroke and I could dive but very badly.  I have a healthy respect for water in the manner of fear.  It only takes a small problem to make me completely hysterical if in water and anyone trying to help gets used as a human ladder by me.  I don’t think my children will ever forget our trip to Disney Land and the ‘swim with the sharks’ section.  Basically a small man made pond with baby sharks and beautiful coral to view while snorkelling in wet suits.  It started well till some water went in my snorkel at the same time I spotted the baby shark, which I felt, wasn’t much of a baby.  Panic ensued with me standing on the coral and ripping my snorkel of and crying.  Disney helpers swam over to guide me back to the side but I wasn’t having any of it and it all got a bit ugly, even my then 6yr old son tried to calm me down but with the flailing arms of his mother looming he decided to carry on with his pleasant swim.

Anyway, I digress….

Around 5pm on the first day it began to drizzle with rain and this was the ongoing theme for the whole week but at the time we didn’t know Wales. 

Day one, after the initial joy of finding ourselves without parents we teetered about looking around our new home, tent cold, tent not very comfy, tent wet, tent messy within a few hours.  Linda and I shared one and Denise and Lynda shared another.  Visited main complex, was given outfits, outfits not becoming but better than my grandmothers hat that for some reason I found packed in my bag, Grandmother obviously concerned about my head staying warm.  I wore it once and a picture was taken.  We were all taken to the lake and told to get in a little sailing boat along with half a dozen other kids.  It began to rain more heavily.  I learnt absolutely nothing about sailing; think I might have had one go at steering the tiller in all the time I was there.  If there was any instruction I hadn’t been listening.  I felt sick almost from the moment I stepped on the boat, the others? Probably my sister Linda learnt something because she just learns stuff. 

I am clearly over the moon with the chance to do some sailing in the rain..

and so are they..

Afternoon, yeh! Pony trekking.  All us had our own ponies and you can see in the 70’s we were not safety conscious, hats were around but not deemed important even if you had never ridden a horse before.  It continued to rain.  Now spending money to send us pony trekking was a bit like taking coals to Newcastle, with the exception of Lynda we were all in the Pony club and in fact all in the county team.  We all quickly got a bit bored and began attempting dressage on these poor trekking ponies, then a bit of hanging back so we could get in a canter to catch up, then we began looking for little bushes to see if we could get some jumping in. Trekking leader hadn’t had our intensive training and soon gave up trying to manage us.  Scenery amazing, plodding along very boring.  I will say that by the end of the week the ponies were responding to the way we rode them and were quite bouncy by the end of the week.  

Look no hats!

Well Linda looks happy at least, it didn't rain for 30 mins!

Nice views

Linda doing her girth up in an unconventional manner

Day two, cannoning. Hideous!  First we had individual kayaks and once in our teachers attempted to teach us how to roll.  I sat there arms crossed staring at the teacher who I might add could only have been about 22yrs old and clearly a student earning some summer pin money.  I absolutely refused to even attempt to roll my kayak because I didn’t want to DROWN as I pointed out to him.  Much reassurance went on but he was on the land and I was in my little plastic spoon wobbling precariously glaring at him.  I was told it would be better if I learnt to roll but as I had no intention of getting wet and would rather die in an accident than deliberately he gave up.  Lynda was very good at rolling her canoe, unfortunately it wasn’t deliberate. She just couldn’t stay upright and every time she began to fall she would shriek then down she would go.  Missing for seconds under the canoe then cam up spluttering.  In fact most of the lesson was spent staring at Lynda doing lots and lots of 360 degree turns.  I found it very funny till she began to move nearer to me; she threatened to grab my spoon for support, terror set in.  My dia threats didn’t hold her of for long and I suddenly found out how to use the paddle.  I got behind Denise and watched Lynda take her down. 

Afternoon sailing in the rain – hell.

Day three, we get chatting to a neighbour in the tent near us.  Can’t remember her name but she was 18yrs old and although friendly clearly had other intentions regarding her holiday as a single young lady and I say lady but not in the conventional way.  We being 16 thought all activities had to be attended and despite loathing ¾ of them we attended.  She being 18 had intentions of more than one of the ‘trainers’ all being men in their early 20’s.  We hadn’t noticed her before for one very good reason, that and the fact that one teacher (whatever they were) had been missing.  He had been gone for 2 days, well when I say gone…the pair of them had not come out of her tent for two days, no food no drink and I’m not sure they had even bothered to go to the washing facilities.  We thought the tent was empty.  We found this very amusing and I being very innocent did wonder what they could be doing in all this time.  I didn’t actually realise that sex could be repeated on a continuous loop. When she came out and we got talking I did ask her if this lad was her boyfriend and she laughed and said, “No, my boyfriend is at home where I live”.  I was horrified; evil people only did infidelity surely?  This was the first time I realised that I didn’t have to stick to the rules set out by my upbringing and that if I didn’t I would not be struck down by lightening.  She cam pony trekking with us one afternoon, a quiet girl with a dry sense of humour.  I went of her when a new lad moved in for a couple of days because I thought she was being unsociable and besides…she was stealing all the good-looking teachers.  In fact she was being far too sociable.   

The sex fiend

That afternoon a select group including us were told we were going pot holing and I was over the moon.  No water sports hurrah!  Two of the fittest blokes ever took us to a cave and we were all geared up with lights on our safety hats and we had become miners! At first it was fascinating, climbing over rocks, squeezing through tight gaps and we all followed blindly.  We climbed up crevasses and rested on a ledge so the lads could get out their tins of tobacco and have smoke.  We chatted for some time then one lad said we had to go, as he was worried about the water level because he knew this cave filled up at high tide. We looked down and sure enough the floor was now knee deep in water.  Slight panic ensued in our guides “Everyone down NOW, we have to get out”.  The water quickly became quite deep and I began to clutch at the wall in an attempt not to get too wet but that didn’t work.  I really began to moan when it was up to my chest, it was icy water.  The lad with the tin of tobacco was determined to save this and eventually all we could see of him was an arm holding up his tin.  By the end we were neck deep and wading and going just about as fast as we can.  We all climbed out sodden and freezing with teeth chattering we got into the jeep and back to camp.  The weird thing was that at no point do I remember feeling scared and for someone who is a tad claustrophobic is odd.  But anything was better than being on that lake.

Day four, a trip around the lake in a kayak.  This did not go well.  I found I could only canoe in the direction of the tide, well not exactly a tide but the way the water was flowing.  Fine on the way out then we turned to come back.  I got stuck in a kind of whirlpool under some trees over hanging.  I got shouted at once the girl taking us realised that cajoling wasn’t going to work.  I was prepared to spend the rest of my life under that tree in that Kayak, I could see no way out.  Everyone else got passed but not me.  I began to cry and moan.  I was there for 20mins.  We got a new teacher in the afternoon. 

Afternoon, two man canoes. Quickly I bagged going with my sister Linda.  There was no way I was going to pair up with my friend Lynda, she rolled. Linda and I watched Denise being thrust under on a regular basis and I told Linda her life would not be worth living if this happened to us, we gingerly proceeded along the lake, her scared of me and me scared of the water.  A wonderful day all round.

Day five, more sailing and pony trekking and the music in the main complex.  Sailing by Rod Stewart playing all week.  Can’t help thinking of this holiday whenever I hear this song and a shiver goes up my spine.

The other thing that sticks in my mind is the extreme unfriendliness of the Welsh people who when visiting a shop and before us talking would be conversing in English, as soon as they realised we were English would revert to speaking Welsh and broken English.  I would like to think that doesn't happen so much now.  

Escaped to go to the local  shop

Did not meet any nice boys as considered two young, too innocent and slapper in the tent next door was a far better prospect.  

Victoria Falls

Pre our trip to Victoria Falls at a barbecue I managed to find a bouvier puppy! 

While in Zimbabwe Steven and I had the chance to take a three-day trip to see Victoria Falls and it was the only time we got to spend on our own.  I knew nothing about Victoria Falls except that it was a large water fall, I had no idea that on one side was Zambia and the other Zimbabwe and I didn’t know I had been staring at the Zambezi river till many years later, such was my interest in geography.  

We arrived at a rather wonderful Hotel that sat literally beside the falls, surrounded by the wilderness of Africa, my main interest being the animals, the vervet monkeys and the amazing coloured birds.  We sauntered down to the large swimming pool on the first day both carrying a large packet of crisps.  I remember this because the sweet little monkeys covered the whole area and became our new best friends, something to do with the crisps we had.  While I lay on a pool lounger I enjoyed throw crisps out to these friendly little chirpy monkeys.  I began commenting on all the different ages and loved the baby ones and found the obvious character differences fascinating.  Some were very bold, some more cunning; I became absorbed in studying their little hands and cheeky faces.  Steven was not happy about me feeding them at all, he said they were vicious and discreetly moved his lounger further away from me. 

But I was in agreement with a German boy of about 10yrs who was also feeding my new friends.  However, I was more methodical and portioned out my crisps fairly, giving the baby monkeys nice big crisps and big daddy monkeys less.  I accidentally gave a big daddy what I thought was one too many crisps so without thinking I bent down to retrieve a few back for some of the babies.   Well!  Big monkey was LIVID, I mean really livid with me.  Apparently monkeys don’t have a sense of fair play. Suddenly I was staring at huge teeth and a screaming vervet monkey that came charging at me.  Luckily I had been standing up at the time, not so lucky for the German lad was that he was standing next to me.  We did the only thing open to us and both jumped into the pool, swam around a bit till big daddy monkey had stopped yelling at me in a “do that again and I will kill you” fashion.  Steven was now behind some windows inside and also livid with me for putting his life in danger. 

Vervet monky - sweet aren't they? Not!

I am no longer keen on monkeys.

Just before I found the giant tortoise 

The following day Steven and I walked to Victoria Falls, this involved a great path in and out of a kind of rain forest grown up from the continuous spray of the Zambezi as it plummeted over the cliff edge.  I would say that 80% of the tourists there were German at this time, the rest were Americans, think we were the only Brits.  

Walking towards the falls and the big cobra

Steven

While walking along I noticed some Germans all gathered around and staring at a patch of grass so we joined them, it was then I spotted what they had noticed which was a huge Cobra sliding along, head up and clearly trying to get away.  I happen to love snakes!  Did my normal thing on seeing an animal of interest and moved much much nearer to get a good look, Steven did his normal thing by moving much much further away, this time he didn’t even turn around, he actually began backing up all the time telling me to come away.  But I was too fascinated to listen. He then shot forward to suddenly be at my side and handed me his sunglasses then shot back again.  In my naivety I thought “That’s sweet he thinks I might get sun burnt, a little mental but a nice gesture” then from a distance he demanded I put them on and when saying I was fine thanks, he began jumping up and down while telling me that cobra’s spit and if any got in my eye I would go blind and they can do this from 6ft away and as I was now only 4ft away from the snake I should PUT THEM ON.  Nice.  I obeyed. 

Didn't take a picture of the cobra but Steven did take this of me in a zoo where I asked to hold a file snake

Found a giant!   

What were my initial thoughts once coming across Victoria Falls? Terrible disappointment that’s what.  I was expecting to look up and see a huge waterfall of  huge stature rather like Niagara Falls but this is not the case with Victoria Falls.  It’s a long long crack in the land and at the opposite side the Zambezi river plummets down.  You are level with it.  Victoria Falls has a cannon below and its splendour is in it width not height.  I remember saying, “Is this it??”  Now I look back at the pictures and I am older I can appreciate the spectacle. Also, the noise, its so noisy, you can’t really have a conversation although we tried.  I climbed over the suggested barriers (I say suggested as they weren’t defined only by the odd boulder) and sat there staring out in a dream like state, water is very mesmerising. Steven was talking but I honestly couldn’t hear what he was saying but to be polite I said yes in what I thought was the appropriate places and he seemed very happy.

  

Victoria Falls from our side 

We hired a plane plus pilot to see the falls from the air, now it looks impressive! 

The next day we hired a ranger to take us out in his jeep for the day to the bush to try and see some animals.  We knew our chances were slim regarding creatures like lion because we were there in the rainy season this meant there were an abundance of water so no nearly dry water holes to stake out for lions or us.  However of we went with a rather attractive South African who did his level best to make our tour of some bushes, some sand and some trees interesting.  We did see some animals like elephants; zebra and kudu if you squinted you could just make them out.  South African apologised on behalf of the beasts, which was nice.

What was the most interesting thing about this little trip to Victoria Falls was on our return to Harare, that night while at the Jones bar Steven told everyone we had got engaged.  I said, “Have we?”  Apparently that is what he had been asking me while I was starring at the falls and I had said yes apparently. And that children is how and why I got married!  

Celebrating our engagement

Beryl and Bishop at their bar, eccentric people!  

                       

Lake Kariba

I think that's me beside the captain

Not much further..

To get to the campsite we had to drive to a small airdrome, parked the jeep and got on a small plane, then we get on a motorboat and travelled across Lake Kariba to the hotel/campsite in the bush. 

Car parked and bout to get on the plane,
got given a nice flower.

 

I was impressed with our surroundings. Just such a beautiful place, a stunning lake and the hotel had a huge wood cabin bar with tables all around, a large veranda and a big pool outside. 

Bar and main reception

Inside, well as inside as it got.

lovely bar tender

The owner was another ex pat dressed in full jungle style clothes.  There were busy waiters and gardeners bustling around who cut grass with large scissors, we were guided to our room where we would be staying for 3 days.  It was at this point I got my first surprise because although it was considered camping we were in a man made three-sided cabin, which looked out onto the 

lake.  No doors, no nothing, bit like sleeping in a double garage with the garage door open. 

Yup...this was our room

First question from Steven “Is this safe?” “Yar yar, but no go out for walk after lights out, ok?” For myself at this time…one word…. oblivious.  Happily unpacking and admiring the view, Steven a bit naggy, kept telling me to check my shoes before slipping them on, we walk up to the bar to meet Clive for a drink and the hotel owner joins us.  The evening consists of chatter about the events of staying in the bush, like the German man a couple of years ago that got too hot and took his bedding outside the cabin to sleep in the cool night air.  A very old and hungry lion sniffed him out and began to eat him legs first.  German man did die.  The couple that took a midnight stroll and not being able to see anything bumped straight into a buffalo…gorged to death.  The angry hippo they found in the pool one morning…endless endless stories…As this was going on I noticed a tiny buzzing bird hovering around me then making a dash for under my chair.  I looked more closely and notice it wasn’t a bird…it was a WASP!  Biggest bloody wasp ever, oh my god nothing like the British wasp, this one had fangs, yes you heard me..fangs!  When in gods name did you ever hear David Attenborough mention them? Then I noticed the ants…I reckon 50 of them could have carried me away, a bit aggressive looking and me of.  It was around this time I began to reassess myself as a fearless intrepid explorer…

Glancing across at Steven I realised the wild stories had also unnerved him as we meandered our way back through the bush to our cabin.  Once inside I felt comfortable though and slipped into my pj’s, we had a light and a mosquito net so all would be well and I had bought a great book to read (can’t remember what it was now). There were two single beds so Steven tucked me inside mine lowering my net and wrapping it under the mattress.  At this point I noticed my net was full of holes and insisted on having his, which he gave over, and I left him to tuck himself in with my holey net. I had had no alcohol unlike all the men I was with because in my head I was one jump ahead and planning my escape should a hungry lion, hippo, hyena and even elephant come lumbering in.  The cabin had huge beams and I had worked out that I could get on them quietly, not bothering to warn Steve so that any animal would concentrate on eating him and leaving me alone.  I’m afraid my urge to survive no matter what has ruled my life.  I looked up at the beams as I lay there with some satisfaction while listening to Steven’s drunken snores in the bed beside me.  Then I spotted spiders!  Big black ‘flatties’ all whizzing about over the beams. “Shit” I thought…”STEVEN STEVEN!”  Mumble mumble “What?”   “The cabin is covered in spiders and there are some about 6inches long!”  “It’s ok, they are about the only things in here that are harmless and eat mosquitoes so stop becoming hysterical” I decided I didn’t like Steven anymore and why had he brought me to this terrifying place?  Then I told myself of for being a weakling and too middle class and I had better pull myself together.  I began to read my book..bravely . 

Nobody mentioned that a single light bulb in the middle of the jungle would gather together followers from basically all over the country and it wasn’t long before a million varieties of insect began to fly, walk and crawl all over my bed.  Greatly involved in my reading, it was a while before I looked up and saw that my net was moving taking on a life of its own.  Screaming and sobbing ensued. Steven thought I was now being eaten by a lion and woke with a start.  There was me huddled in my little bed looking at him from the inside my net with eyes out on stalks but still rational…that was until a bright emerald green very large spider crawled up my net from the inside.  At this I became superwoman and leapt through my net leaving a human size hole and landed on Steven’s bed, howling. Steven murdered the emerald green spider with his shoe and I refused to leave his bed despite the temperature being about 40C. Another thing they didn’t mention was that the electricity came from a generator and when the boss went to bed the electricity got turned of.  He now went to bed.

I admit that without me Steven would have happily slept through till the morning without incident but with a sobbing sweaty girlfriend in his single bed he had become..irrational.  He seemed to be babbling and was now also scared and we could bother hear lions roaring and many strange sounds all of which in our heads meant death. He searched around for a little box of matches and lit a few, never have I known such darkness.  We needed to see what was out there…in our cabin.  First thing we saw were solder ants, thousands of them…they had gone up on leg of my bed, across where my pillow used to be and had collected the green spider and were half way up the wall with it.  Then I remembered Steven had the net with all the holes and began to sob again.  However, Steven well he sort of gave up being vigilant and fell asleep leaving me and my imagination to overheat. I decided this was very unfair so I lightly brushed the back of his leg with my fingers in the manner of a snake slithering over him.  Well!! , he jumped about 10ft up in the air screaming.  I was quite surprised, in the dark I was quietly laughing but trying hard to act shocked and from his reaction definitely too scared to tell him what I had done.  He began frantically looking for the matches and shouting WTF WTF was that???? I suggested a snake.. he stayed awake with me all night.

Before light we were woken to a waiter shouting, “knock knock, knock knock” through the wooden wall on the left.  You see there wasn’t a door and it would have been rude to have just walked in peering at guests while they slept.  I had had about an hours sleep so it took many knock shouting to wake either of us.  We were greeted with tea and toast and it gradually came back to us that we were being woken so early because we had arranged to go Bream fishing in the lake, which was a dawn start. Steven immediately checked my shoes…annoying a bit.  It was only after our time was up at Lake Kariba that he told me on the first day he had found a little black scorpion in my shoe and had edged it into a matchbox, then taken it to Clive in his cabin and asked him if it was dangerous.  Clive had leapt out of bed at the sight and told him it was deadly and what the hell was he doing carrying it around in a match box!  They had both decided not to tell me for fear of reprisals and hysterics.

I’m not sure I’m coming out of this tale very well.

The reason for the early start to the fishing expedition is the heat; sitting in a small fishing boat in the middle of a lake (although Lake Kariba is more like an enclosed ocean) at over 40C is not a good idea.  I didn't even know why we were doing this to be honest, having never fished and have never had any desire to learn but the men seemed to think it was a brilliant idea to do this every morning (as I found out).  I did think it would be a good way of seeing animals though.  I was given a big fishing rod and of we rowed/motored. 

Clive fishing

Clive and the nice man in charge of the boat and an employee of the hotel who spoke broken English instructed us (Steven and I) in the mentality of Hippos and Buffalo and Crocodile, all very grumpy especially hippos and they are not laughing when they open their mouths up wide.  Also, despite it being boiling hot “try not to touch the water or trail your hand in it to cool of because it contained Bilharzia” but that instruction was impossible to obey.  My first go at casting of proved to be disastrous because I flicked the rod back and got the end stuck in a passing tree.  My second attempt was even worse as the hook got stuck in the arm of our guide. 

I have no idea what these birds were.

Calm Lake Kariba

From that point on the men would all creep to either end of the little boat when I had to cast of. 

About two hours in I loved it, we were able to view hippos and their babies, buffalo were grazing by the banks, fish eagles were flying overhead and I learnt to open glass beer bottles with only my hands.  Then our motor broke and we began to float and we lost an oar and there were the hippos and their babies that we were looming towards and our guide began to panic. 

Here we are floating towards
a not impressed hippo

Floating towards elephants

awww forgot I had taken this.

I was in the middle of the boat happily staring at the hippos with my camera.  Steven offered to swap places, stood up and pushed me to move to the end of the boat nearest to the hippos and before I knew it he was in the middle and I was closest to the hippos and a couple of buffalo’s glaring at us from the waters edge.  Then it 

dawned on me, “Steven! You have just moved yourself to a safer position and are using me as a buffer” He agreed.  This being the man that on our first date walked on the edge of the pavement to protect me from any cars that might splash through puddles going past.  The hippos became anxious and the mummies had their mouths open, I was now staring at their tonsils and I got within 5ft of a buffalo!   The boat at the last minute kicked into action and we pottered away but it kept breaking down at inopportune moments throughout the morning.  Did we catch any bream?  Yes lots! But we had to put them back again so I couldn't see the point.  The next day we attempted to catch Tiger fish which have poisonous spines, aren’t in anyway edible and will fight back once in the boat.  Men are so odd.  These fish grow very big. This is what they look like: 

I got one on my line and that was a mistake because it was a big one and it fought while I screamed in the boat and the men screamed at me.  It escaped before I could land it but Clive and Steven landed a couple but they were much smaller than the one that I was attached to for a while.  I know this because mine leapt out of the water with teeth bared at one point.  Quite glad it got away.  

We had now realised that Africa – real Africa was incredibly dangerous, I haven’t even mention the mosquitoes and tsetse fly that carries sleeping sickness and malaria.  The malaria tablets given to us in England were not up to standard so we bought the lasted version from a chemist in Harare as advised.  I discovered that no insect liked biting me, it’s strange but this is still the case but they did love Steven who got bitten in a hundred places.  I have no idea why.  A tsetse fly while in the pool bit him and I told him to let me know if he gets sleepy.  Our plans for being able to sleep on night two in our camp were very different. Steven decided to drink inordinate amounts of alcohol and be so drunk he would pass out and be oblivious to and nighttime activities. I decided to drink no alcohol but not turn the light on at all and asked for a new mosquito net.

Steven getting very drunk

My plan didn't take into account that I would have a roaring snoring man lying beside me all night. In three days I probably only had about 10 hours sleep.

While there we also went midnight tiger fishing on a kapenta boat and went on a bush-tracking walk, which I loved best.  I have also stood and stared at the Kariba Dam and watched the enormous crocodiles floating around at the base. 

Looking down from Kariba Dam

What an amazing experience, I am very lucky.  Part of me dies when I hear over the years what is happening in Zimbabwe, so beautiful, so many resources and natural minerals.  I can see why Rhodesia was so closely fought for by the people from here that had made it their home.  Its probably not ‘pc’ to say this but that country would have been much better of if it had stayed Rhodesia and changed politically over a period of time in the way South Africa did. We visited Cecil Rhodes house and one can only admire a man that made a life and changed a country in a place so alien to where he had been born. 

Week 2 – Injanga in Zimbabwe

Injanga

Injanga - seee just like Scotland..not

Injanga pretending to be Scotland

Steven and Clive pondering

I have now remembered eldest son’s name which was Clive!  I guess they had high hopes he would be an explorer of Africa or India but sadly I don’t think Clive’s brain worked that way, mainly being interested in drink, drugs and not wearing any pants under his wide legged shorts.  I say this because sitting opposite him at a barbeque became a little difficult for me one day.  I know I shouldn’t have been looking but it was so hard not to and what I saw displeased me greatly.  The vision still lingers of a large hanging testicle covered with what I presumed were small warts. This did not go down well with the sausage I was currently eating and I began to feel nauseous, it would have been too obvious to have moved my chair and anyway, in those days I was quite stubborn (not like this now - *snigger*) and I felt he should stop crossing his leg, get some pants or move, and most certainly get something done about those warts.  I took Steven aside and quietly asked him to have a word with Clive discreetly.  Of course this happened in exactly the way I hadn’t intended with Steven marching up and saying “CLIVE!  Can you not put some pants on?  Juliette has a bird’s eye vision of your left testicle!”  Silence from all.  Clive laughed and asked me if I was enjoying the sight and that he never wore pants.  Steven interjected with “Of course she isn’t enjoying it! And you need to get those warts seen to”.  Barbeque wasn’t the same after that.  The following day Clive, I and Steven set of for Injanga in a pickup truck, I was in the middle….lovely.    

Dear Clive….he had forgotten to mention that not only does he not wear pants but that any form of deodorant was an enigma to him.  As we travelled the long miles I searched for a hanky so that I could have some masking from the aroma, I’m not the best traveller anyway but thoughts of suicide surfaced that or murder.  At the first pit stop again I grabbed Steven and told him I HAD to sit by the window, a request he didn’t approve of as he also could smell Clive and had happily travelled the distance with his head hanging out the window but thank god he succumbed to my womanly threats and evil eye.  

To anyone that ever gets the chance (should Mugabe die in the near future) Injanga is very beautiful, it’s mountainous and is compared to Scotland with sun by those ex pats living in Zimbabwe.  We lingered over night in a lovely hotel and thank god Clive had his own room which to be frank I would not have put it past him to have organised a three bed room.   

We then set of for Lake Kariba and the real bush where I was told we could be able to go tracking! Yeh………..gulp.

Zimbabwe 1986

House aptly named 'Chaos' 

Steven's 24 yr old second cousin

Me with one of their dogs who I loved and wanted to take home.

Day 1

Having now found a girlfriend that had done a bit of travelling (he wasn’t to know that girlfriend in question although indeed had travelled, had during her travels, lurched from one near death experience to another) Steven decided now the time was right to visit his second cousins in Zimbabwe.  His travel experiences to this point had been stag holidays to Amsterdam and two fairly dreadful skiing holidays with his girlfriend (me) when he discovered he a) couldn’t ski and b) not to trust his girlfriend if skiing. 

We set of on Christmas eve for a nine hour flight on Zimbabwe airlines and I soon realised this particular airline was on a par with a previous exotic airline flown with, namely Korean airways from a previous world (ish) tour.  The first thing I pointed out was that this was an ex Lufthansa plane so all instructions were in German.  It probably wasn’t the best idea to mention to Steven that this plane had been sold to Zimbabwe because it was probably too old and past it for the strict German standards.  Steven began to drink anything that was offered and was further disconcerted by the constant praying of the 99% Zimbabwe passengers, also now mostly drunk.

As luck would have it we landed in Harare at 9am on Christmas morning being picked up by Steven’s 24yrs old cousin once removed.  And removed he certainly was.  A large young man with a beard that could have supported 3 blue tit families. It was an interesting drive where it was pointed out to us what we could and couldn’t do in this capital city.  “Don’t leave the compound of the house”, “don’t speak to anyone outside”, “always check where you are walking in case of snakes”  bla bla. I wasn’t really listening because after all I had been to agricultural college, loved snakes and wasn’t scared of any animals.  Famous last words? Oh dear me yes….

This was my first meeting and experience of ‘ex pats’ as we pulled into a large house in Harare.  I was looking forward to meeting the family because the ex Governor of the Falklands was Rex Hunt and his wife Mavis was sister and mother to Steven’s cousins.  Out waddled Betty to greet us, still in her flowery nylon dressing gown with a few food stains down the centre happily holding a pink gin in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  “Welcome, welcome” Betty announces in a ‘frightfully frightfully’ accent.  We were immediately lead across the stoop and into a dark wood room with a large bar and offered drinks.  I declined as it happened to be 11am in the morning and I had the strangest feeling I would need my wits about me while staying here.  Steven didn’t feel the same, as he was still quite drunk from the flight and felt more drink was a good plan. 

As if it was yesterday I remember sitting at the bar while I was introduced to all the other members of the family, I sat there listening and while doing so my eyes rested on an interesting candle holder on the bar.  “How unusual” I said “a candle inside a pretend scull”,  “where did you get that?”  “ That isn’t a pretend scull” said Bishop “It’s a blick that died in the Rhodesian wars”  “ Many of the heads were turned in candle holders or ashtrays”….

I sat there in horror and unable to do anything but gap at him.  “I’m sorry?”  “Did you actually say this is a real scull?”….”from a blick – black person?”  Now, I will never know if this story was true….I persisted on an off for 3 weeks to try and find out but they all stuck to the same story, it could have been a monkey for all I knew but whenever I went into that bar I could never take my eyes of the scull…

It was a strange Christmas that year with a father that insisted his son’s were weak and pathetic for not drinking despite one suffering from Hepatitis B and it is where I first tasted pink gin and I believe the last time it ever crossed my lips.  I just couldn’t keep up with this completely mad family with their gung ho spirit and imperial beliefs.  Mother never did get dressed until late into the evening when Christmas dinner was served by small black servants scuttling around…we had Kudu which I had no idea what it was until it was explained to me that it was a deer of some kind. 

That night with a splitting headache, overwhelmed by the bigotry of conversation and the fact that Steven hadn’t been sober for 24 hours I sat up in bed and stared at him.  He smiled gently back in a drunken mist of “Isn’t life here just fab”.  One sentence came out of my mouth..

”GET ME OUT OF THIS FUCKING MAD HOUSE, I WANT THE FIRST PLANE OUT IN THE MORNING”    

He sobered up extremely quickly telling me I couldn’t leave…we were here for 3 weeks, please don’t be upset..it will get better, honestly it would.  They are nice people, we would travel alone soon, and it is an amazing country. 

“Nice people, nice people?? I have just walked into 1889”…. the servants live in a mud hut at the end of this garden and live of scraps and sudza!”  Their dogs eat better (two Bouviers and a Lurcher type).  But the thought of seeing this country called Zimbabwe made me stay and I learnt and important lesson, that I didn’t have to say yes to everything just to be polite…I didn’t have to drink pink gins if I didn’t want to.