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Other entries in Beitbridge

The border of the 3rd World

We left Johannesburg at around 5am on the morning of the 11th and headed for the border, stopping in a town called Musina to get some last minute supplies and to see if I could get a leather bushveld hat. Alas none were to be found so there will be no pictures of me looking like Indiana Jones for all those of you who wanted to see that.
The Zimbabwean border at a town called Beitbridge is truly an experience, after passing through the relatively easy SA border post you cross the river into Zim, this border acts basically as a life line for Zimbabwe. Since Uncle Bob (His Excellency, president Robert Mugabe - for the uninitiated) expropriated all the land from the white farmers as an act of imposing his will, and redistributed it to settlers the country has been brought to the brink of collapse. Zimbabwe was once the breadbasket of Africa exporting grain, maize and beef amoung other things all over Africa, for its size it was one of the powerhouse economies of Africa. The settlers however know only about subsistence agriculture and not commercial farming so crappy stretches of maize now sit in the middle of vast expanses of fallow farmland that were once huge and prosperous commercial farms (anyway more on the later). Thus the fuel, electricity and food the crosses the border now basically keeps Zimbabwe up and running - at least for the time being.
Anyway the border post looked like it was built in the 1960's and then had absolutely no maintenance done on it whatsoever. As a Canadian I had to get a visa to enter the country paid, this took all of 5 minutes however, Andy had to get various passes and pay various duties in order to get his Land Rover Across the border, this should have taken 15 minutes but took almost 2 hours because the man behind the counter had run out of receipts in his book and it took him almost 2 hours to get a replacement, why I have no idea. Still the whole thing was a prime example of paralysis by bureacracy - still these are the experiences that make travel fun and interesting. After the duty is paid you have to pay carbon tax (for reasons beyond my ability to explain - the tax is I guess supposed to mitigate the effects of the filth that belches from the vehicles here?) and then you are obliged to buy 3rd party insurnace or face a $10000 fine (thats $1US at the current black market rate). The entire thing is forex grab, the Zim $ is so inflated that no one wants it so you have to pay is US or SA rands but are issues change in Zim dollars - cool hey? Anyway after 2 hours we were finally on our way and off to Mateke Hills, a hunting farm owned by Andy and his brother in law Terry. The farm is about 180kms NE of Beitbridge (the location of this entry) and if you can find a map of Zimbabwe its about 30kms west of the Southern edge of Gonarezhou game reserve. On the way into the camp - located at the top of rocky outcropping the temperature climbed to over 40 degrees C and we stared seeing Impala and Kudu as a warmup of what was to come. After a journey of 2225kms we had arrived. The camp was amazing, little thatched buildings set amoung rocks and scrub trees, I'm sure the pictures below don't so it justice. After a beer or two with Terry and his son Ryan we went on or first evening game drive - there wasn't alot of game to be seen but it was great just to be out in an area that was miles and miles from anywhere and totally pritine.
The next day I went on my very first hunt, Terry wanted an Eland to feed the the staff (the trackers and maintenance guys who live on the farm are all local Shangoan tribesmen and as part of their ration a few animals are shot every year to help feed them). We spotted an Eland as the the morning drew on and I along with Ryan and John the tracker went off stalking the animals( Believe me if you've ever tried juggling a camera and a shotgun its quite hard - hopefully you get the idea from the pics). We set up behind a termite mound and Ryna fired with his rifle - hitting but not killing the animal. As zebra, imapala, and wildebeest ran in all directions around us panicking at the gunfire, we set off tracking the wounded animal, with John leading us after blood trails and hoof marks that I wouldn't have seen in a million years. After about 15 minutes of chasing it we spotted the animal, Ryan aimed and fired bringing the Eland down. As we approached it was clear the animal was still alive and as we waited for John to come back with the guys in the Land Rover, the Eland died. I'd never seen something like that before, and its weird to hear the last rattling breath and see the light in ots eyes go out. Although it was not nice to see such a beutiful animal die, you feel better knowing that it wasn't killed for sport and that no part of it will be wasted, the guys on the farm will use or eat every part of it - even the brain and bone marrow.
In the days that followed I tried to hunt a warthog for a spit roast, but I missed with the one good shot I had I guess I'll one day live it down!- too much adrenaline I guess. So you'll be happy to know there is one lucky warthog still trotting around the bush. We went on more game drives and walks through the bush and saw buffalo, giraffe, zebra, eland, nyala, warthog and endless birds. It was a truly amazing place and just a magic 4 days. Hopefully the pictures give you a sense of it.

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