Zambezi Wanderings with ZIM4x4

A RAMBLE THROUGH THE GREENERY

2012-03-13T03:58:00.000-07:00

The rains will end soon, and a brand-new safari season will begin. The trees and grass will be green - but will we?

A lot of people out there, ranging from global green movements to local pressure groups, don't like us 4x4 drivers very much. Sometimes the criticism begins with a snide reference to carbon emissions and "gas-guzzling monsters". Many of us, myself included, start off far down the green league tables merely because of our vehicles, and that's before anyone starts on about the trail of litter, beercans and churned-up grasslands left behind by a small but appallingly badly-behaved minority of drivers.

We can say - with justification - that we are among the few groups of people who actually use these cars for their intended purpose: to get to, work in, enjoy, and generally to access otherwise inaccessible places, and moreover to get there (and back) with heavy camping equipment and supplies of fuel, food and water for many days of isolation. We need strong and reliable vehicles, with good load-carrying volume, and it's difficult to envisage doing the Matusadona access track in a battery-powered micromobile.

I know I'm not about to give up my trusty old 80 series Cruiser, with its 1HZ and whopping 348gm/km CO2 emission - and nor, I suspect, are a lot of other drivers. But an uneasy conscience dictates that we really ought to do our best to make up our 'greenness quotient' in other ways.

Conserving fuel is one way. We who live in Zimbabwe have a slightly schizoid approach to fuel. Before the greenback was introduced we never knew where the next few litres were coming from, if anywhere. We measured our fuel by the teaspoonful, and never went anywhere if we didn't have enough to get home again.

Suddenly, and not so long ago, it became freely - and cheaply - available. You could bath in the stuff, if you wanted to, as a colleague remarked; fill your pool with it, if you so desired. But old habits die hard. The proverbial still, small voice can still be heard, saying: are you really sure there's more where that came from? And - just once or twice - there hasn't been. Plus which, it's got a lot more expensive as well.

So we have a self-imposed maximum of 90kph on our safaris, even on good tar. This is partly a matter of sensible caution, because cows, goats and small children all have a habit of running out of the grass and into the road without looking. It's also not exactly difficult to keep a 1HZ down to this limit. But it also increases our effective range - sometimes an important issue - hugely reduces our overall fuel consumption, and also our costs (always an important issue!).

One of our safari participants, obviously accustomed to driving with his right foot flat on the floor, was moved to remark that he'd "never used so little fuel until he came with us". I'm not totally certain whether this was meant as a compliment, or was a remark born of immense frustration. But remember what the drag curve does at high speed, especially with a roofrack and rooftop tent. Drag increases as the square of the speed. Fuel consumption and costs don't follow quite the same rule, but it sure feels as if they do.

Sit and wait for wildlife to come to you...!

Having reached our destination - lets assume a wildlife area in our case - keeping the driving to a realistic minimum is one another way of helping both the environment and our wallets to stay healthy.

We all want to explore, and that's fine, but once you've got that out of your system, finding a pleasant and potentially fruitful spot and waiting for wildlife to come to you is often more productive than burning gallons of fuel looking for it.

Incidentally, Sally and I have lost count of the times we've ignored our own advice and driven off on a lengthy and fruitless wild goose (elephant/buffalo/lion/wild dog/whatever) chase, only to get back to camp and find it seemingly occupied by half the animals in the Park, all probably seeking some peace and quiet instead of being pursued all over the countryside by Land Cruisers. We've had leopard chasing genets up trees, prides of lions parading silently past us, all without moving an inch from the camp dining table.

All very well, Il hear someone saying, but sitting around all day won't keep our batteries charged and our fridge-freezer in business. Well, for starters, do you really need an 80ltr (or larger) refrigerator; an electric fan; a campsite lit up at night like the perimeter of a high-security prison (see also Of Bright Lights and Night Sights,) or (an abomination!) an electric fence around your tents? Some of the vehicles we've seen are more like oil-fired power stations, requiring constant driving to keep the battery bank charged. There's always something clicking, whirring, or flashing. Using solar power is one way of keeping the need to drive down, but so, too, is keeping power demands to a minimum.

And no - a generator is not the answer. They are offensively noisy, represent another source of source of CO2 emissions, and are forbidden in Park areas anyway. We've never carried one and never needed one. Nor have we had any clients who have brought them. Yet, in the absence of regular patrolling by the Parks Authority itself, we - and other campsite occupants - are forever requesting that offenders in other campsites shut down their generators. The response is either pleadingly plaintive and has something to do with flat batteries, or downright rude, in which case we have no option but to bring up the heavy artillery in the shape of a uniformed Parks officer.

Kariba

So I guess we're probably quite nice people to go on safari with, but total hell to share a Park or a campsite with, because we're somewhat fanatic about that elusive quality called "wilderness value", which we feel is all part of the green thing, and which is severely compromised by generators, bright lighting, drunken singing, and totally wrecked by certain other forms of anti-social - and anti-environmental - behaviour.

Like - we always get back to it in the end - chucking beercans and other litter out of car windows in the bush. Like leaving soiled toilet paper all over the bush in our National Parks. Like ignoring the "no off-track driving" regulation in wilderness areas and leaving imprints of fat tackies all over sensitive grasslands, down riverbeds, and across otherwise pristine landscapes, which is the equivalent of carving "John Smith was Here' on an ancient baobab, which also happens. Take a look at the baobabs you pass on the Kariba road, a few klicks out of Makuti. Last year some moron who had lost his knife used a spraycan of pink paint instead,

Mana Pools, it should be noted, has now formalised a 'carry in, carry out' policy applicable to all unburnable waste including beverage cans, bottles, plastics and other items. The new policy is a huge step in the right direction, but it remains to be seen to what extent, if any, the ad lib littering of the Park decreases as a result.But if you can get the cans and bottles to a recycling station, that's another way of gaining some green credits.

Chewore

Meanwhile, on our last trip of the 2011 season we watched in pop-eyed astonishment as a Zimbabwean-registered pickup came tearing past us in one of the Mcheni campsites, headed straight off-track and into the bush, where we could follow his progress for almost a kilometre before he turned in a wide arc, returned to the riverbank, parked way off track and set about fishing.

Sally and I had already spent a good deal of time setting fire to used toilet paper, as well as picking up a sackful of beer and soft-drink cans. In short, we'd had a gutful of anti-social behaviour, so we reported the offender. When confronted by the warden he became considerably aggrieved, muttering about 'spies', as if we should have merely looked on and smiled indulgently. Let it be known that as a citizen of Planet Earth, these are my Parks, as much as anyone else's, and I'm not about to let someone else wreck them if I can possibly help it.

Mana Pools

OK, I've bleated on ad nauseam in our newsletter and elsewhere about the beercans and bogpaper and brainless bundu-bashers. Let it be said here and now that all the people we at ZIM4x4 have taken on safari have been extremely environmentally aware. If they have sinned, which has happened once or twice, it has been through ignorance. But I'm also in danger of developing one or two more unreasonable obsessions, or useful contributions to environmental sanity, depending on which way you look at them.

One concerns bottled water, and I'll freely admit I'd never given the stuff a thought, until I found myself managing a number of safari clients whose comfort zone was demarcated almost entirely by the availability or otherwise of vast quantities of of bottled water.The Zambezi Valley being almost totally devoid of the kind of shop that sells bottled water, this became a problem of some importance when they discovered that their consumption in the Valley's heat exceeded their self-estimated requirement by about 200%.

Personally, I'd think people would far rather drink water of known origin - as, eg, out of the Zambezi, even if they felt inclined to boil it first - than of totally unknown provenance, as in bottled water. There may indeed be semper aliquid novi ex Africa - always something new from Africa - but there's nothing new about making a fast buck, and the liquid concerned isn't necessarily what it claims to be. It may indeed come from some pure mountain spring. Equally, it may come from a borehole overlain by several hundred suburban septic tanks, or even from a city tap. Zambezi and Kariba water may contain a percentage of hippo dung, but at least it isn't six-times-recycled human sewage, which is what you get to drink in many major cities throughout the world. Add in the fact that it takes 1500ml of water just to manufacture a 500ml plastic bottle, which is pretty extravagant on a water-stressed continent, and bottled water becomes another potential environmental (and Health & Safety) disaster area.

The other area in which Sally and I have had to exert a little bit of subtle pressure has been where firewood is concerned. It's braai-time that's the problem. The concept of the braai and the campfire is deeply embedded in the regional ZIM4x4 culture. There's a sort of purposeful determination that comes over many people around 4pm, as the sun's decline towards dusk becomes obvious and minds turn to visions of steak and boerewors. They've already mentally dismissed the manky little braais provided by our Parks Authority, instantly deemed totally inadequate, fit only to be replaced by a braai-pit anything up to two metres wide.

Everywhere...that's a lot of firewood!

Creating a fire worthy of such a pit takes an awful lot of firewood. Supplies of said firewood are only easily available in two places. One is at the roadside before entering the Park, which is why our woodlands are vanishing at such a terrifying rate. The other is at the Park offices. Dead timber is an essential ecosystem component - and many Parks are stripped of every dead branch (and, one has to say, more than a few live ones) for miles around their camping areas.

Add in the dreaded CO2 emissions as we burn the wood instead of it getting stored in termite colonies or recycled as soil nutrients and firewood becomes, in short, a helluva non-green no-no. Secretly, we'd prefer our safari participants to cook on gas much of the time, even given its own carbon emissions. The only problem is, I don't think we'd get many clients, if any. So we have to make a few compromises in this regard.

I've got nothing against a modest little campfire for atmosphere, warmth in winter, and stuffing up some inoffensive bits of steak that deserved a better fate, which is probably why the Parks people installed those manky little braais in the first place. I've even been known to demand a largish fire myself, when I've caught a nice big tigerfish and want to bake it in the coals and inflict it on my clients. Principle flies out of the window when self-interest enters through the door. All the same, we'd like to think a little bit of the educational spiel gets through.

Well, I guess that's enough freaky greenery from me for a while. As I write, and in spite of patchy rains, we're into another sort of 'green season' in Zimbabwe. Green grass; green hills; fresh green foliage on the trees. The countryside will turn brown soon enough, but maybe we, as responsible 4x4 drivers, can strive to be emerald green and squeaky-clean throughout - and encourage others to do so?

ZIM 4X4 FEBRUARY NEWS

2012-02-19T23:16:00.000-08:00

No. 30, February 2012

ABOUT THIS NEWSLETTER
ZIMN4X4's newsletter is sent by request to over 400 readers throughout southern Africa and the world. Let us know if you'd also like to receive it by email.

ZIM4X4 BOOKINGS

We are delighted to say that we are now pretty well booked up for the 2012 season, from mid-April through to mid-November. We have one or two slots left in June and July, and at the end of November if anyone's prepared to gamble on the weather, but otherwise: why not think long-term and consider a safari with us in 2013!

PARK FEES

Against all expectations, the Parks Authority has not increased its accommodation, camping and entry fees for 2012 - a very pleasant surprise in view of the fact that the Authority continues to be as cash-strapped as ever. Indeed, probably more so as other costs, such as salaries, vehicle maintenance &c continue to increase.

Protecting wild areas - and especially those holding 'valuable wildlife', such as elephants and rhinos - is an expensive business, which is why we at ZIM4x4 would have been neither surprised, nor unduly dismayed, if the Authority had imposed increases, provided of course that they were within reasonable bounds. Having both been a Parks officer, and also having worked in civilian wildlife conservation for many years, I have some idea of what these costs are.

It's easy, for instance, to talk about the need to (for example) radiocollar certain species for research and conservation purposes. It becomes less easy when one knows that such exercises can cost at least US$1000 per animal, especially when sophisticated equipment such as aircraft and helicopters, expensive tranquillising drugs, and equally expensive radio equipment is required.

Road and track networks are also expensive to maintain. In many Parks, gravel and sand tracks need considerable work at the start of each dry season, and often require the use of graders and other heavy equipment.

Station vehicles lead hard lives, deploying labour gangs and ant-poaching patrols; and anti-poaching operations have constant needs for consumables such as radio batteries, as well as boots, uniforms, backpacks, bivvies, mosquito nets and much else besides.

"Yes, but" you may say - "even so, we're not seeing much for our US$100-a-night campsite fee. The roads are appalling, the vehicles are falling apart, the toilets are delapidated and the only people we see doing research are NGOs."

One must remember one or two harsh realities. Zimbabwe suffered ten years of economic disaster and a near-total absence of paying visitors to Parks. On top of this, from 2001 to the present day, the Parks Authority has not received a cent of official donor assistance, being a government department and therefore subject to both official and unofficial sanctions (and whatever anyone may say, the latter do exist, and hurt 'ordinary' Zimbabweans far more than they do the politicians they are supposed to affect).

NGOs - including our own favourite agency, The Zambezi Society - plug as many of the gaps as they can, and some significant sums of money are involved. But this is a drop in the bucket compared with the real needs, which include - for instance - at least one reasonably-paid and well-equipped ranger for every 20sq km of Park.

Field staff are, by and large, both dedicated and competent. You have to be, if - as they do - you are to risk your life against armed poaching gangs in return for around US$250 per month. But even they have their limits. Spare a thought for them, next time you are tempted to complain about the cost of a campsite or bundle of firewood. It's a chicken-and-egg situation: facilities can't be improved unless there's money to pay for them; but hiking prices while facilities are substandard causes a furore. The resolution is, of course, a political matter.

Other Prices

Private-sector prices, on the other hand, are a different trolley of groceries. I think that every request we've made to private lodges, houseboats and other facilities has resulted in an increase over 2011 - up to 40% for some, and even 50% in one instance. We can understand this in some cases - houseboats, we suspect, have been something of a bargain for the last few years - but not in others. Ripping people off is a time-hallowed tradition in some sectors of the Zimbabwean tourism industry, and it definitely pays to shop around.

Change, of course, continues to be non-existent in many shops and supermarkets. Instead, you'll be invited to take it in unwanted sweets, boxes of matches, or - in one recent personal case - in the form of a couple of 13-amp fuses (which, oddly, I did happen to need, so at least it was useful.

I suggest a counter-attack. carry your own bag of sweets, matches and what-have you and next time you get a supermarket bill for US$4.30 and no change available, give them US$4 and some sweets and see how they leap at it!

FUELS

A locally-produced ethanol blend recently began to appear at Zimbabwean service stations. Nothing new in that: we had it many years ago, before fuel injection became common, and it wrought a good deal of havoc with carburetters, fuel lines, seals and other items. Maybe that's changed - we have to admit that being exclusively diesel jocks, our knowledge of petrol vehicles ended with the Land Rover Series II (and no, I won't have a word said against it. It was the best go-anywhere, do-anything bush car I've ever owned. Just took a week to get there...!)

Such local consultations as we have made have been unproductive, apart from an abrupt intake of breath and some ominous head-shaking, and an intensive web search merely created massive confusion in our minds. Maybe some of our South African readers can shed some light for us, since ethanol appears to have been in use there for some time. Meanwhile, we'd suggest you give it a miss unless you are totally sure your vehicle can use the stuff without problems or damage.

THE RAINS

It hasn't been the greatest of rainy seasons so far. The first rain fell very early, which is often an ominous sign, at least according to this particular self-appointed fundi. Thereafter, things more or less dried up until late December and early January. Even now, some weeks later, Mana Pools is reported to be 'dry, with the grass already wilting'. Matusadona may be a bit better off, with average rainfall reported up to February 1st, and some heavy storms since.

At the time of writing, Zambezi flows at the Victoria Falls monitoring station are running at roughly 60% of last year's figure on the same date. Lake Kariba - having risen a little - is currently stable, at roughly 4m below 'full supply height'. One floodgate was opened in January, but was closed again pretty smartly.

What does all this mean to intending visitors? Well, the first point - obviously - is that this rainy season still has some time to go, during which anything can happen, and quite probably will. Nevertheless, let's look at some possible scenarios in the major wildlife Parks in our area:

OVERALL - poor rains mean that wildlife will gather early at remaining surface water sources, but that grazing will be exhausted well before the end of the dry season, resulting in wildlife deaths. Equally, good and late rains often mean that wildlife remains dispersed further into the dry season, young and old animals survive more easily, and numbers may increase.

In Matusadona, stable or falling lake levels would open lakeshore tracks for game-viewing. Also, the development of Panicum repens (Torpedo grass) fringes on exposed lakeshore areas may compensate for the loss of other grazing resources. Several Matusadona species, notably buffalo, zebra and waterbuck, historically show population increases during drought cycles.

In Hwange, the grazing and browsing 'load' is to some extent spread by the existence of artificially-pumped pans, but this has in turn allowed wildlife numbers to increase, and drought is likely to cause significant wildlife deaths.

In Mana Pools, the 'floodplain' areas are critical during the dry season, and although they are the scene of spectacular wildlife concentrations, there are no ameliorating factors in the event of poor rains. A good crop of A. albida pods - unlike 2011's very poor crop - would help.

Some would argue that reductions in species such as elephant, hippo and impala are desirable - even necessary - but it doesn't make for enjoyable game-viewing. To many visitors, the spectacular wildlife gatherings induced by drought can be superficially exciting, but it's worth remembering that such gatherings are often created by food- or water-stress, and they should remember that they may well be looking at animals in poor condition (locating wildlife during and soon after the rains may need more work, but at least you're usually seeing well-fed, sleek animals in good condition).

To many biologists, however, wildlife deaths induced by drought are a blessing in disguise in many areas, keeping numbers under control and reducing damage to habitats and ecosystems. Whatever the case, it's worth remembering that both drought and abundance are natural phenomena, very longstanding features of the southern African climate, and - barring rapid and severe climate change - are likely to be so in the future. Calling them 'good' and 'bad' is a purely human trait.

Our own trip -

Sal and I made our own annual rainy-season pilgrimage to Mana Pools in mid-January, only to find there had been very little rain, there were some large bare areas, and such grass as had managed to get started was wilting rapidly. Nevertheless, wildlife still proved elusive. We spent a couple of days meandering around in the western part of the floodplain (incidentally, the unique features of this area are more correctly known as 'alluvial terraces' as they are not true floodplains) with little success.

It was only when we turned our attention to the Mana Mouth and Nyamatusi areas that we began to see animals in any numbers. Here, however, we watched large elephant groups coming to the water every evening, and sighted a herd of buffalo we'd guess at 2-300 strong. We got the impression that there had been more rain in this part of the Park, resulting in better grass growth.

After a few days, however, we did get a couple of significant storms, whereupon the Mana Mouth elephants and buffalo vanished overnight and the place was virtually deserted. It probably hadn't gone very far - probably south into the dense jesse that begins where the alluvial terraces end - but it's not stuff you want to wander around in unless you absolutely have to, being thick as all hell and almost certainly stuffed with buffalo and elephant cows.

The warthogs and impala stayed put, however, and one of the delights was to see the large numbers of new-born young that are such a feature of the wet season. Another lay in the amazing concentrations of brilliantly-coloured butterflies that are also a feature of this time of year. A third was the crystal clarity of the air, the Zambian escarpment seemingly close enough to touch instead of lost in dry-season haze and smoke; the emerald-green new leaf against brilliant blue skies; and the deep purple of advancing storms, capped with towering cumulo-nimbus and spreading anvil canopies.

Journeys to our wildlife Parks during the rains are probably more suited to people who have already seen the animal concentrations in the dry season; if seeing such things is important, then 'first-timers' possibly run the risk of disappointment. For birders, on the other hand, it's one of the best times of year, with most summer migrants present; and for 'wilderness connoisseurs' it's maybe the best time of all. We didn't see another vehicle during our entire 10-day stay at Mana. It was a true Garden of Eden. All it needed was a lot more rain....

TIPS FOR TRAVELLERS

Sally and I take many things for granted after spending 30-odd years largely in the Zambezi Valley, but they seem to come as a huge surprise to some self-drive visitors.

There are, for instance, very few 220v - or any other - charging facilities in the Valley. The number of gadgets carried by travellers that can't be charged via 12v vehicle lighter sockets seems to be increasing exponentially, while the availability of mains voltage facilities remains near zero except possibly in centres such as Kariba and Binga. Camera batteries seem to head the list, followed by mobile 'phones (but see below!), torches, and other stuff.

Some Park offices will do it as a favour - if the generator has fuel - but you run the risk of some pretty dramatic voltage fluctuations. We thought we'd solved this problem by installing a small inverter in our vehicle, and running it off our second battery. However, our small laptop doesn't like the inverter very much, probably because of its modified sine wave output, and the inverters available in Zimbabwe don't seem to like the Zambezi Valley's corrugated roads very much; we've gone through two already and a luta continua, so to speak. Any insights, anyone? Meanwhile we still feel the best advice we can give is to bring plenty of camera batteries, and switch your mobile 'phone off - you're in the bush, and there's probably no network coverage anyway!

Another recent trend, mostly among our international clients, is a stubborn refusal to drink anything other than bottled water, even when perfectly drinkable water is available in campsites and lodges. If this is truly important to you, remember that you can't buy bottled water except in urban centres. There aren't any shops in our wildlife and wilderness areas. You'll need to carry all you will need, and then some.

I have fairly strong views on this, one of them being that bottled water may have come from a borehole overlain by several hundred septic tanks, or even straight from an urban tap. I'd far rather drink pure Zambezi or Kariba water (boil it if you feel you need to), but I can't formally recommend it in case someone gets a severe case of the runs and decides to sue me.

Gleaming white hats, shirts and trousers are a no-no - most wildlife will run a mile, especially if you are walking. Bring some subdued clothing - khakis, greys, jungle greens. Mere commonsense, you'd think? You'd be surprised at some of the sights we've seen...!

And most campsites are unfenced. Large specimens of local wildlife, such as elephants, buffalo, hippo and even lion, can wander through at will, and often do. You either love this, as Sal and I do; or hate it. We are acquainted with a not-very-bush-savvy couple who lasted one night at Mana, before fleeing back to Harare. The only reservation I have about these sites is they aren't suitable if you have small children (which they didn't). Otherwise - be calm; be sensible; and enjoy it.

More broadly: the low-lying Valley can be hot - hotter than you may have ever experienced. We had shade temperatures up to 48degC last October. Drink lots of water (bottled or otherwise). Bring electrolyte tabs - they really make a difference. It can also be cold - down to zero and below on some nights in May thru' mid-August. And it can be wet anytime between September and May, even if only briefly. Plan accordingly.

It can be dusty. Leaky rear door seals are a major culprit, but keep all foodstuffs, bedding, clothes &c in dustproof containers and bags unless you want to go everywhere with the windows wound up. Be particularly aware of the need to protect cameras, binoculars and other sensitive items against dust.

And there are insects - mosquitoes during the rains, tsetse flies in some areas year-round. Most people do have an appreciation of malaria risks, and bring repellents, mosquito nets, long-sleeved shirts and long trousers for after-dark wear. For some reason, though, the appearance of a single tsetse fly within a vehicle can bring on near-hysteria.

Luckily, tsetse are generally confined to a few restricted areas, usually dense riverine or other bush. There isn't actually a great deal to be done about them, as I think we've remarked before in these columns, except wind the windows up and turn on the air-conditioner.

Personally I loathe driving around like this (we never even possessed an air-conditioner for 27 of those 30 years, and only now because our current vehicle had one when we bought it). However, Sal's twin remedies of a spray containing dilute Dettol, plus a fearsomely effective fly-swatter, work well. The only downside is getting whapped mercilessly on the back of my head, a landing pad favoured by tsetse flies for whatever reason, while trying to negotiate a tricky little gully or sandy riverbed.

There may be spiders in the bath; geckos on the walls; little sticky-frogs in the toilets; monkeys or baboons in your (rashly open) car and honey-badgers in the dustbins. None of these has to be a major disaster, as long as you are aware they may be there and manage your life accordingly.

To balance all this out, the Zambezi Valley and Lake Kariba areas are, quite simply, the loveliest places in the world. And the world is full of people who, having been there, can't wait to come back. Drink from the Zambezi, etc etc, as per the strap at the end of our newsletter.

AND FINALLY -

The elephant doing the 'tow start' at left is just one of the famously placid old gentlemen who meander through Zambezi Valley campsites, shower your tent with pods, twigs and other debris from the Acacia albidas, and generally act as if they own the place. Which, of course, they do.

Should these animals wander out of the National Parks and into neighbouring hunting areas, they may - perfectly legitimately, as things stand - be shot by trophy hunters. This has already happened in more than one case. The individual at left hasn't got particularly heavy tusks, so he might get away with it. However, the tusks on at least one of those at right are getting into the trophy 'danger zone'.

Heavy ivory or not, these animals are outstanding characters, known and loved by Valley safari operators and visitors alike, and their loss would be a tragedy. One possible answer is to get them radiocollared and give legal protection to animals carrying such collars. This will be rather sad, as one more illusion of 'wildness' will be lost (not many people want to photograph radiocollared animals) but in the absence of other solutions, it's better than losing them.

MANA IN THE RAINS - the good, the bad and the truly ugly.

2012-01-20T09:10:00.000-08:00

THE GOOD...
No matter where our Zambezi wanderings take us, they inevitably bring us to Mana Pools at some point. All our Zimbabwean wildlife areas are beautiful, but Mana has a special magic all of its own.

Usually, we're there during the dry season, with safari clients. Come the rains, though, Sally and I make an annual pilgrimage to Mana, to see the near-magical transformation from grey dry-season dust to brilliantly green new grass and foliage. We go without clients, to refresh ourselves after a busy season; to wander at will; and to remind ourselves what this incredibly special place is really all about.

Getting there (and back) during the rains isn't normally a problem, as Mana Pools has an all-weather access road. It can get a bit slushy in places, with some large puddles, and there's always a chance that a bridge might have gone down, as happened in early 2009, but otherwise it's an easy run.

The last two times we'd been there, in October and November, Mana had been a desert. Temperatures had hit the high 40s; the ground was utterly devoid of grazing; and many animals had been so weak as to be barely able to walk. We had stumbled on many dead buffalo calves; dead hippo; and several dead elephant.

By mid-January we'd normally expect to meet the aforementioned slush and puddles on the way in, but this year was different. The access roads were almost dry; the flanking jesse bush - usually dense by now - still coming into leaf in places.

We'd also expect Mana to be green and lush by this time. Not so. Only a few showers had fallen, on the river frontage anyway, and many areas were still depressingly bare. Such grass as had already grown was wilting fast. The Acacia albidas (please don't correct me on this - I'm well aware they've been renamed!) had lost their leaves, of course, and such pods as they grew last year were long gone.

All the same, the scanty new growth was providing a much-needed respite to Mana's grazers, and most species seemed to be regaining condition.

Soon after the rains begin, much of Mana's wildlife vanishes overnight, not to be seen at Mana again until the next dry season.

As to what triggers this sudden exodus: one can speculate that it may be rainstorms in the hinterland, replenishing hitherto dry pans and catalysing the growth of new fodder; or simply that many animals dislike the quagmires that develop across much of the floodplain, in which young animals can easily become trapped and die. Whatever the reason, suddenly, Mana is virtually deserted; abandoned to the ubiquitous impala and baboons.

Before this happens, though, some species - notably elephant groups - often converge on the Mana floodplains after the first rains and gorge themselves on the fresh grass. Exactly where they all come from is something of a mystery; but the wary behaviour of some of the elephant groups indicates that they may be from the hunting areas that flank the Park on both sides. Whatever the case, it you get the timing right, a visit in the early rains can be immensely rewarding in terms of wildlife concentrations.

And even if you get it wrong, Mana is still beautiful; and, by way of compensation, there are millions of butterflies; dung beetles; damsel flies and dragonflies;wildflowers and birds. Meanwhile, the air is rainwashed and crystal clear. Most days, towering thunderheads sprout along the Zambian hills, even if they don't always cross the Zambezi and reach Mana. And the sunsets are out of this world.

One of our own compensations for this year's lack of rain was the ability to drive the Park viewing tracks up to the Mcheni camps and round to Nkupe via Sapi Pan. Mana seemed to be truly deserted, west of Nyamepi; we never saw a single elephant, and very little by way of other species. We began to think that, this year, we'd fluffed the timing. However, it was all happening, as we soon discovered, in the Mana Mouth area and probably the Nyamatusi, where there seemed to have been a little more rain than elsewhere.

We sighted a buffalo herd numbering - I'd guess - some 2-300 animals. Elephant cow groups descended on the Mana River to drink every evening. Lion were around - we heard them every evening - but were maddeningly elusive, except for one young male Sal glimpsed saw at night, behind Hippo Lodge; we got onto his spoor in the morning, but that guy was motoring, and had a ten-hour start on us as well.

For several days the stormclouds rose over the Zambian hills; their curtains of rain advanced as far as the Zambian bank of the Zambezi; then moved away and the storms collapsed, as did the one in the photo at left.

At last, though, it did rain, for two deliciously wet nights. Most viewing tracks became impassable, so we got out and about on our own flat feet instead - something that, uniquely, visitors to Mana can do.

We revelled in the sheer dampness of it all; inhaled the enchanting scent of rainsoaked leaf-litter and soil; and felt that if we stood very still and quiet, you could almost hear the grass growing.

But now Mana Mouth, too, was deserted. Elephant groups, buffalo, zebra, had all seemingly evaporated overnight. This, one feels, is exactly as it should be. The Mana floodplains take an immense battering from the dry-season wildlife concentrations that gather there. They need time - and rain - to recover. By the time we left there had been a significant greening. But unless Mana has a lot more rain, the 2012 dry season could also be a difficult one for Mana's wildlife. Keep your fingers crossed.

Finally, a word of praise for the much-abused Parks Authority and Mana field staff. The Hippo Lodge solar lighting system worked. We were also provided with a solar lantern, which worked. There was a new refrigerator, which also worked. There was gas. There was water in the taps. The lodge attendant was neatly turned out, of pleasant disposition, and always helpful. Having long been accustomed to treating a sojourn in Hippo Lodge as merely a variant form of self-sufficient camping, these improvements were extremely welcome.

THE BAD...
Thousands of people all over the world joined Zimbabwean conservationists in opposing the hideous Protea Hotels development, to be built opposite the Vundu Camp area. Now they are being turned into laughing-stocks by the proposed - and approved - building of a 24-bedded lodge at the Vine Camp site, with a new 'exclusion zone' around it; and a similar development at Mana Mouth, one of the Park's pitifully few riverbank beauty-spots still accessible by the public.

Recognise this? It's the view across the Mana River, at Mana Mouth. Enjoy it while you can, because soon all you're likely to see are 'up-market chalets'. Actually, you may not, because you probably won't be allowed to. We'll bet a pound to a peach-pip that the next thing will be an application for an 'exclusion zone' so that the up-market tourists don't have to stare at us gawking peasants all day long. Needless to say, of course, public bookings for Nkupe campsite - one of Mana's most sought-after 'exclusive' campsites - are no longer being accepted.

And someone really ought to have a word with the writers of the EIA for one of these developments, which cites 'black rhinoceros' as one of Mana's rare or endangered species. Well, I suppose he's right in a way, because black rhinos were poached to extinction in Mana by 1990.

...AND THE TRULY UGLY
We're not going to let Zambia off the hook, though; bad development is bad development wherever it takes place.

Once upon a time (the old man said) Mana's Mcheni camps were about as idyllically remote as you could get. Way back, there was only one of them; the rot set in when the other three were instituted. Even so, they were pretty good, and offered their occupants a stupendously wide view of a wild and beautiful river, with scarecly a sign of human activity to be seen.

Now take a look at this -

This, now, is what you will be staring at, across the Zambezi from your Mcheni campsite. It reaches its peak of in-your-face offensiveness at Mcheni 1 and 2; and is only slightly less intrusive at 3 & 4. It mesmerises; one's eyes are perpetually drawn to it; one feels like the rabbit gazing transfixed at the snake.

At a guess, seen from Mcheni 2, it wrecks some 6km of the view of the far riverbank, like a wart on an otherwise beautiful face.

It's a bit late for outrage, as the thing was plainly visible throughout the 2011 season. Nonetheless, by rights it should be demolished. You can bet your ass it won't be.

DECEMBER NEWSLETTER

2011-12-28T23:41:00.000-08:00

No. 29, December 2011
ABOUT THIS NEWSLETTER
ZIM4x4's newsletter is emailed regularly to a list of over 400 subscribers worldwide. If you'd like to be added to this list, please contact us on info@zim4x4.co.zw .

TIME TO REFLECT

Well, we've had a great year, 'on safari' almost continuously with great people, and made a lot of new friends. We ended our final safari for 2011 a few days ago, and now we have some very welcome time in which to sort our lives out, to relax a little, and to reflect on what works and what doesn't; on how we can do things better or differently in 2012; and on the broader 4x4 self-drive scene in Zimbabwe.

The term 'safari' originates from the Arabic safara, 'to travel', subsequently coming to mean 'a journey' in Swahili, and we've taken to using it because - of all the forms of travel available to visitors to Zimbabwe - we believe ours is one of the closest to this original meaning of the word.

Together with our safari participants we've driven many thousands of kilometres through some of the wildest terrain in the Zambezi Valley and northern Zimbabwe; spent many days exploring areas such as Mana Pools, the Matusadona and the Mavuradonha; photographed spectacular wildlife and scenery; sailed and boated on Lake Kariba; caught tigerfish and bream and cooked them for supper; and a host of other things.

And we use the term 'participants' because - apart from occasional nights in lodges - mostly we camp, and our safaris are 'participatory'. They aren't us-and-them, guides-and-client affairs; we're all in it together, from sharing camp and cooking duties, planning the day's activities and getting the braai fires going, to getting the books amd binos out and identifying the puzzling little brown birds, obscure mongooses and anonymous little antelopes that crop up on every safari. But our 'product' seems to work very well, as reflected by the number of repeat and word-of-mouth bookings we're getting.

We've had Touaregs and Hiluxes, Discos and Defenders, Pajeros and Prados, plus of course our own 78 and 80 Series Cruisers, and the sum total of en route problems has been a few broken trailer fittings, a couple of blown shock absorbers, one leaking tank interconnector pipe and some batteries flattened by the demands of vehicle 'fridges in the Zambezi Valley heat. We've had to give an occasional bit of coaching in respect of rock-crawling and sand (no, that's not a good time to change gear, Fred!) but overall the drivers have been capable, careful and competent.

As for the future: Sally and I are constantly evaluating new venues and new routes (the Mavuradonha and the Gache Gache area of Lake Kariba (see below) being two prime examples in 2011), with more possibilities up our sleeves for 2012. Generally, though, we're looking more at refinement and improvement rather than at dramatic changes in our modus operandi.

The crystal ball is a bit cloudy as regards minor events such as elections. Political desires are evenly divided between having them as soon as possible (i.e. in 2012) or delaying them until 2013 or later. We suspect that the latter view will prevail, but we can't be totally certain. So we're applying the usual philosophy in such cases: press on, and deal with it all as and when it comes. The bush is, after all, the very best place to be at such times.

And the bush, we must stress, is what we're all about. Self-drive wilderness safaris, with the emphasis on wilderness. We determine our schedules to the nearest day, not minute; we manage our days by nature's clock, not by our watches.

We've had many spectacular and varied wildlife sightings, but our tour participants have also taken great pleasure through just being in some of the finest wilderness southern Africa has to offer. In short, we try to help our safari participants not just to 'sightsee' and pass on, but to savour the wilderness experience in all its aspects and depth.

Remember you can keep up with us between newsletters by going to our Facebook page on http://www.facebook.com/zim4x4,

ROAD CONDITIONS

We have had some pleasant surprises during 2011, as Zimbabwe slowly drags itself out of the economic morass. The Binga-Karoi gravel, for example, was graded - and quite well, too - along much of its length. So was the notorious Mana Pools 'top road" from the Chirundu tar to the Nyakasikana Gate, although it has recently reverted to its usual horrible state (but not as badly as three or four years ago, when it routinely took us 2.5hrs to do the 31km of iron-hard corrugations, rocks, holes and general nastiness).

There has also been quite a bit of rehab on main tar roads in our neck of the woods, with repair gangs becoming a pleasingly common occurrence. The downside is a growing incidence of wandering cows, goats, and - at weekends - drunks, all of which make it advisable to keep speeds below 100kph, even on an apparently open and deserted stretch; these walking hazards can appear from nowhere, and we've seen the nasty results of more than one high-speed collision with a cow.

Overall, we've also been pleasantly surprised by the improved attitude of police at roadblocks. There are still a few unreconstructed thugs and louts around, but they seem to be a declining breed. We usually also manage to get our convoys waved through, by stopping at the barriers ourselves, pointing out the vehicles behind us, and asking that they should be treated as valuable visitors to Zimbabwe.

We're into the wet season now, of course, so gravel and dirt road conditions can change very rapidly. A winch isn't a kind of talisman, giving supernatural immunity. It won't get you out backwards, for a start; and it won't get you out forwards very easily, either, across half a km of rainsoaked but treeless black cottonsoil.

The best advice we can give in these circumstances is "keep your options open". As a trained pilot it's second nature to me to ask the big "what if..." questions. As in aviation - have a plan if things get difficult. Find an alternative, or turn back, if necessary, before the situation becomes unmanageable.

Note, also, the picture at left. Although its been repaired since, the maintenance of bridges in remote areas isn't always what it could be, and undermining of bridge approaches by floodwater is often invisible from the driving seat. Everything looks fine until it actually collapses, and you don't want to be on it when it does. If in doubt - get out and have a good look beneath the bridge and its approaches.

Always travel in company if at all possible, not solo. Carry a "survival kit" - reserve fuel, food and drinking water. Remember that most really bad situations are the result of multiple errors of decisionmaking, snowballing towards disaster. Prevention is far better than cure, and avoidance is the name of the game.

PLACES TO GO

Sally and I like to think we know our area pretty well, but we're still finding new places to go. We recently spent some very pleasant time at Gache Gache Lodge, on the south bank of Lake Kariba's Eastern Basin at 16°44'22"S 28°56'31"E. The lodge is situated on the exceptionally lovely Gache Gache River, one of Lake Kariba's 'rias', or drowned rivers, and offers a variety of activities including game-viewing - on foot and by vehicle - and fishing.

The routes to the lodge - either from Kariba, or from Karoi - are extremely wild and scenic. We went in from Harare via Karoi and the 90km of gravel 'back roads' down the Zambezi escarpment (seven hours), and out to Kariba (two hours).

Although the camp is situated in a so-called 'communal land', in fact it sits within an extensive wildlife area controlled and maintained by the lodge, and owner Ray Townsend has been instrumental in helping the Parks Authority to control both wildlife and fish poaching in the area.

The effect has been a steady growth in wildlife populations. We noted some excellent sightings of elephant and kudu; lion spoor was plentiful, although we did't manage a sighting; and there was one of the highest densities of bushbuck I've ever seen. Added to which, the Gache Gache River itself has some amazing waterbird areas, with huge concentrations of species such as white-faced duck.

One of the highlights of our visit was the 'bush dinner' set up for us by Ray and his staff, beside the river some 3km upstream of the lodge in an exceptionally lovely stand of huge riverine woodland. We arrived by boat in the last of the twilight, to find tables already set up; and returned via the lodge's game-viewing tracks some time towards midnight.

Gache Gache Lodge keeps talking about setting up a self-catering facility for self-drive visitors, but hasn't quite done it yet. All the same, it's worth checking with them; meanwhile, if you'd like a respite from days and nights of camping, their rates for fully-serviced accommodation are extremely reasonable. See http://www.gachegachelodge.com/ or contact Bernie on bernie@chapungusafaris.co.zw .

FUEL & PROVISIONS

Provisions are fine, most supermarkets continue to be well-stocked, and there's some very good meat around, although prices have gone up somewhat in the past few months. However, there have been a few glitches recently with supplies of both petrol and diesel, for unknown reasons. You can usually find them, but it may take a bit of looking if you are unlucky enough to be travelling during one of these temporary shortage. Best advice is to refuel well before you need to - keep your tanks as full as possible, just in case, and maybe bring a couple of jerrycans as well.

BRIGHT LIGHTS

Please remember that many people go to the bush to escape things like light pollution, not to endure it in an extreme form. We've been prompted to say this because of our experiences during a recent visit to Nyamepi, Mana Pools' main public campsite, when it was occupied by a mix of predominantly regional ad international visitors. Not only were many individual camps decked with enough fluorescents and other lights to make the Cape Town waterfront look like a World War II air-raid blackout: the ad lib use of powerful LED torches - to continue the simile - resembled batteries of searchlights trying to locate hostile bombers.

We are the first to say that every camp needs a powerful torch, for safety reasons. But today's LED torches are so powerful that many of them boast of their ability to blind potential attackers. In other words: they are weapons, albeit non-lethal, and should be treated as such, which does not mean waving the thing recklessly around the campsite and blinding other campers in the process; nor does it mean handing it to the kids so that they can play with the strobe function.

We carry such a torch, for obvious reasons. But we use it in well-defined circumstances, and otherwise prefer to operate a 'low-light' camp. Much of the time we confine lighting to a subdued yellow LED array directed downwards over the cooker, a pair of insect-repellent citronella oil lamps on the table, and the occasional use of moderately-powered individual headlights for particular tasks. This way, we can not only actually see the stars, but retain much of our night vision as well. There's nothing more infuriating than having some turkey in the next campsite transfix you with his 1000-lumen LED toy for several seconds because he thinks you might be a honeybadger.

I've also seen both elephants and buffalo totally confused by being caught in a web of these lights, and having a confused elephant - or buffalo - in a crowded campsite is a bad idea. Please use these devices responsibly. For more on this topic, see the previous post on this blog.

BEIT BRIDGE BORDER POST - IMPROVEMENTS TO COME?

Despite repeated assurances that 'something will be done', the Beit Bridge border post continues to be a blot on the Zimbabwean tourist landscape, doing its level best to harass visitors into declaring that never again will they expose themselves to such inefficiency and corruption. Now, though, there are some grounds to hope that, at last, the walls of this stronghold of sleaze may be breached.

Clive Stockil, of the Save Valley Conservancy, is widely known throughout the region as one of Zimbabwe's leading and most influential tourism and conservation gurus. He has recently been appointed to the board of the Zimbabwe Tourism Authority, and has stated that one of his personal goals is to get Beit Bridge cleaned up. To help achieve this, he is asking that anyone who has a bad experience at Beit Bridge during the Christmas and New Year period should document it in letter form, and email it to him at clives@senuko.com. This will help him to provide a body of first-hand information and evidence to those government ministers whose brief includes the management and administration of the border post.

Clive is also well-known to the writer of this newsletter, both because of his conservation activities and because he runs a similar operation to ZIM4x4 within the Gonarezhou National Park and the Great Limpopo Transfrontier Park, which neatly complements our own activities in the Zambezi Region. His achievements are legendary, and we can safely say that the time you spend in writing to him about Beit Bridge experiences will not be wasted.

OF BRIGHT LIGHTS AND NIGHT SIGHTS

2011-12-04T04:02:00.001-08:00

With the advent of the LED flashlight, staying in campsites such as Nyamepi at night has become reminiscent of those films of searchlights looking for Dorniers during a London air raid.

These devices are about as far distant from the old-fashioned incandescent torch as a Ferrari is from a Model 'T' Ford. A quick web search shows that many LED torches are advertised, among other things, as defensive weapons, and this leads inevitably to a discussion on their correct - and incorrect - use.

I would suggest that their use for casual wildlife spotting in Parks campsites is totally inappropriate. Side-effects can include the temporary blinding of other campers and a more enduring destruction of their night vision. I have also, more than once, witnessed very confused elephants and buffalo caught in a web of these beams; and confused elephants and buffalo in the middle of a crowded campsite are not a good idea.

Add in a few kids playing with strobe and other settings and you not only have a recipe for disaster: you also have an increasingly unacceptable level of light pollution in Parks campsites, worsened by the tendency of many modern campers to floodlight their sites with fluorescent and other light sources.

During some 30 years of wilderness camping, we have consistently preferred to keep campsite illumination to an absolute minimum, preferring to retain as much night vision capability as possible and - of course - to enjoy the night sky. We have kept a conventional incandescent Maglite, with its much softer yellowish tone, in reserve for occasional scans of the neighbourhood and essential trips to the toilet block, when one is available.

However, the other side of the coin is the possible value of a high-powered LED or other flashlight - especially in more isolated areas - as a deterrent against intrusive wildlife; a point made by the late and much-missed Steve Pope in the wake of the recent tragic Chitake incident. This is a topic of some interest to us as wandering tour guides, as although we regard such incidents as exceptional, we frequently camp with our clients in isolated wildlife areas both within and outside the National Parks, and regard it as our job to accommodate possible 'worst-case' scenarios.

We carry the conventional revolver and heavy rifle, but such a flashlight seems to be a sensible addition to the armoury. Further web searches revealed that you can get LED torches pumping out several thousand lumens, at costs of several thousand dollars (and the thought of a Nyamepi populated by visitors wielding such devices is almost as horrific as that of a lion attack). But what do you really need?

We recently bought an LED Lenser with a quoted output of 220 lumens. It is certainly bright, when focused at its tightest, and capable of blinding and disorienting a human. But I have been totally unable to locate any literature concerning minimum effective power against intrusive wildlife. The whole thing is compounded by confusion between candlepower and lumens, terms that are tossed around fairly freely, whereas the more technical reviews indicate that there is no direct relationship between the two. I suspect the Lenser is in fact inadequate - but I don't know; and therefore invite comments from others.

Meanwhile, this also led us to think about other possibilities for enhancing (rather than damaging) the night-time 'experience' for ourselves and our own clients. Spotlighting is prohibited in Zimbabwe's National Parks, for good reason (although the campsites themselves seem to be given some sort of immunity in this regard). But some form of night vision does open up a whole new world, in appropriate circumstances. We now carry several other devices to cover such eventualities.

We have, for example, been playing with the Laser Genetics ND-5 green (wavelength 532nm) laser torch, which recently became available in Zimbabwe. This is a Class II laser device, which - when all the verbiage is stripped away - means that it is not sufficiently strong to burn your skin or set fire to things, and although it can cause permanent harm to vision, it will not necessarily do so as a result of a brief accidental exposure.

Hitherto, the main wildlife use for these torches appears to be for sport or 'varmint' hunting at night, but we have found it very useful as a non-invasive and, generally, non-disturbing game-viewing torch in appropriate circumstances. Elephant, for example, do not seem to be at all disturbed by exposure to a reasonably wide and diffuse beam at ranges of around 25m.

It also produces a bright eye-reflection at long ranges and, used in conjunction with binoculars, has produced some good sightings of several nocturnal species for us. The photos shown here don't prove very much, I guess, having been taken in our back garden, but do show the absence of 'scatter' from the laser and the relative apearance of illuminated objects compared with the beam from a reasonably powerful LED torch.

It can also, of course, be focused down to a parallel beam capable of being used as a laser pointer - occasionally useful if you're into astronomy - but this is when the device is at its potentially most dangerous; like the powerful LED torches, it becomes a weapon capable of blinding people and animals, and needs to be treated as such.

We have also been carrying a Bushnell Trophy XLT infra-red trail camera, for the edification and entertainment both of our clients and ourselves. This handy little gadget, powered by eight AA batteries, has a 5-megapixel sensor, is triggered by a passive infra-red sensor, and has a maximum capacity of 16GB depending on the SD or SDHC card you choose to install.

It will take stills or video clips according to taste and circumstances, and is capable of producing colour images during daylight. For use at night, however, an array of built-in infra-red LEDs function as a flash or video illuminator, so the results are in black and white.

So far we have only used it at night, on a video setting, and the accompanying pics are in fact stills from these videos - hence the rather low image quality. However, it appears to be almost totally non-invasive; it is totally noiseless, and the only visible evidence of its presence is a faint glow from the infra-red LED array when the camera is triggered. Only once or twice have we captured an animal actually staring at the camera, usually at very close range.

It is possible to mount it on a tripod, but we have not usually done so since we watched a Matusadona elephant taking an undue interest in its presence. Tripods are expensive. However, it can also be strapped to a handy tree or shrub, assuming there is one around. The trick, of course, is to place it somwhere with a good chance of 'seeing' something. Once the novelty wears off, one tires of endless sequences of hippo, impala and hyaena, all of which are fairly predictable in places like Mana.

One useful idea is to have a good daytime look for signs of species such as civet, genet and other nocturnal species, and place the trap accordingly. We have not as yet, succeeded in capturing leopard or lion - other than chance events, these species would require a good deal of time and patience (not available to us during brief stays with tour clients) and freedom of movement (as opposed to confinement within Parks campsites). Nevertheless, the Bushnell camera has proved to be both entertaining and educational.

ZIMBABWEANS OFF-ROADING AT MANA POOLS

2011-12-02T07:24:00.001-08:00

During our latest safari we were sitting at Mana's Mcheni 1 campsite (unoccupied at the time) when the vehicle pictured here drove through the camp, descended onto the A.albida area to the west, and drove an estimated 800m off-road and then back to the riverbank west of the camp. We reported the incident, and we understand that the Park office took action.

We are fond of blaming South African visitors for bad behaviour, and many of them are certainly guilty, but this vehicle is Zimbabwean-registered (ABE 4167). A truly fine example to other visitors, indeed!

What really amazed us was that the driver did this in our full view. Did he not know of the ban on off-road driving? Did he rely on a misplaced idea that some kind of school playground 'code of honour' would inhibit us from reporting him? Or did he simply not give a damn?

It's all very well talking about 'Save Mana Pools' from lodge development, South African self-drivers &c, but maybe we need to save it from Zimbabwean visitors first!

NEW (TO US) PLACES WE'VE ENJOYED

2011-11-07T08:09:00.000-08:00

One can't do everything, I guess. Sally and I have been hectically busy since August, with maintenance and preparation work in brief intervals between tours, and although we've managed to keep up a Facebook presence, our website is sorely out of date and this blog has simply fallen by the wayside. We've got one more tour to go, this year; then we can catch our breath a bit during Christmas and in January and February.

All the same, I felt a note or two about our most recent tour was in order. Unusually for us, this was something of a 'lodge-hop' rather than our usual self-sufficient camping experience, which led us to try out some new venues, the first being Gache Gache Lodge, on the south shore of the Kariba Eastern Basin at S16 44 18 E28 56 25.

This was quite a 'find'. We drove there via Karoi and Magunje, where we got onto gravel and took the road through the Zambezi escarpment, which was a superb experience in itself, with exceptionally wild and scenic escarpment terrain and stunning views over Lake Kariba before descending into the Gache Gache area itself.

The camp consists of several chalets on the banks of the Gache Gache River, plus dining room and bar, and is owned and managed by Ray Townsend, a well-known PH and guide, assisted by Bernie Styles in their Harare office.

Ray has been instrumental in controlling poaching in Gache Gache, the result being a gradual increase in wildlife in the vicinity of the lodge and surroundings. We had notable sightings of elephant, kudu and other species, while driving with Ray; and personally I have never seen such a high density of bushbuck anywhere else. Birdlife is especially prolific, with flocks of several hundred white-faced duck, plus all the other species you'd expect in these habitats.

But you also need to get onto the river to appreciate the full beauty of the area, with its many islands and hidden inlets and backdrop of escarpment hills. On our second night Ray and his staff laid on a superb 'bush dinner' for us, on the riverbank a few klicks upstream of the lodge, which we reached by boat shortly after sunset. Just getting there, on the river's glassy-calm water, with the hills silhouetted by the afterglow of sunset, was an experience in itself. Dining by candlelight beneath magnificent riverine trees was mindblowing.

Sally and I would have gladly stayed for a week or more, but our itinerary demanded that we move on to Kariba, where - again for the first time - we overnighted at Hornbill Lodge, recently established by Jackie and Tommy Millar. We'd recommend this to anybody looking for a quiet, very polished and very reasonably priced overnight stay in Kariba. Accommodation is limited to six (soon to be eight) beds in comfortable, well-appointed thatched chalets, there is a great view over Lake Kariba, the food - prepared by Jackie and Tommy - is good, the bar well-stocked and the beds comfortable. Really, what more could one ask?

We'll draw a veil over the 'houseboat experience' that followed - sufficient to say that constant mechanical issues, a spectacular collision with one of Kariba's sturdier trees and an equally spectacular first-light grounding are things that we locals take in our stride, but can create a degree of apprehension and alarm among clients who hail from countries where mechanical devices are expected to work. If one can pluck some small positive thought from it all, our clients were probably delighted that we made it back to Kariba without actually sinking. Let's rather move on to Mana Pools.

Although Craig Chittenden is an old friend, we mostly live a self-sufficient existence 'on safari' and had never actually stayed in his tented camp before. It's simple but comfortable, wilderness-oriented, and a great experience. Gus Alexander is a very experienced and knowledgeable guide; we had the pleasure of working with him for four days; and we were able to provide our clients with what most would call the experience of a lifetime.

Throughout those days, the Nyamepi lion pride played out drama after drama on the floodplain 'stage' beside Mcheni One. They knocked down five buffalo on one notable night, together with at least one waterbuck; they chased vultures; they mated; and of course they did what lions do best, at least during daylight, and laid around doing absolutely nothing, in full view of the camp.

We walked, of course - it would have been bad form not to - but some of it was real gentleman's game-viewing, from a comfortable chair with a G & T to hand, punctuated by delicious meals prepared by Sandy Alexander.

Which was all to the good, because we'd hit the period in which shade temperatures set all-time records at most Zimbabwean meteorological stations. We can only guess at the reasons why - for example - so few crocodiles could be seen basking on the banks, but it seems plausible that it was simply too hot. And as to the apparently total absence of hyaenas on the buffalo carcases: well, we have no insights at all.

The down-side, of course, was that - apart from the lions - we were mostly seeing animals weakened by hunger, and in danger of starvation. We came across numerous abandoned and dead buffalo calves; impala with mange; and lactating elephant cows subsisting on tiny scraps of dry grass and Indigofera fragments, their calves trailing doggedly behind them. It may be nature's way, but it can be hard to watch.

Throughout all this Gus, Craig and their staff maintained a constant flow of gallons of bottled water (though why people insist on drinking bottled water of unknown and possibly dubious origin instead of good Zambezi water is a mystery to me); kept the overworked showers going; fed us like kings; and generally accommodated every wish and whim. It's not for those who like air-conditioned rooms and wildlife kept in its place by fences; but if you like your nature truly wild, your camps simple but well-run, and some of the best and most knowledgeable guiding in southern Africa, then you couldn't do better.

Meanwhile, Sally and I have one more tour to do this year - including several of our favourites including Mavuradonha and Mana - and then, after that, we'll make our own traditional private wet-season pilgrimage to Mana, in January. We'll hope for brilliant green grass, sunlit thunderheads, and animals (at least those that have not gapped it to the Park hinterland) well-fed and recovering from the searing harshness of the late dry-season.

Hopefully, it will rain this year.

SHOWER CUBICLE SAGA Pt III: TRIUMPH AT MANA POOLS

2011-09-04T00:09:00.000-07:00

Thank you, Christine, for your kind comment - it's good to know these weeks and months of toil, the moments of elation and hours of despair, have not gone totally unnoted and unappreciated!

So finally, last week, our wandering cubicle came to Mana Pools, where it stood proudly on level ground, with a tree in exactly the right place, a branch at precisely the right height (and directly overhead a patch of silt that turned to exceptionally adhesive mud, but one can't have everything).

And it worked. Perfectly (well, almost). Even the elephants came to admire it. Sadly, my fellow-visitors were strangely reluctant to complete the scene by getting into the cubicle and being photographed at this precise moment, but again, one cannot have everything.

It still needs a few little tweaks. The door zipper thingy, for example, is on the outside, so once in, it's almost impossible to get out again. A full bucket needs a strong man to hoist it, and preferably one who knows his knots to tie off the tail of the rope, as the bucket has unpredictably crashed to the ground more than once when the knot came undone, leaving the occupant soaped-up but unrinsed, and wasting ten litres of warmed-up water into the bargain.

But these are minor matters. The principle is proven and vindicated. And so, barring exceptional events, this saga draws to a triumphant close. This blog will now move on to more lofty matters, possibly (but not definitely) including the role of the Exploding Chinese Gas-pipe in the near-destruction of our vehicle.

PS Yes, I know the photo is dreadful, shot directly into the sun, all the highlights bleached out, heavily worked over with the shadow/highlight tool, but that's where I was. More importantly, that's where the elephant was. One does not say 'Oy, you there, move over a bit' to several tonnes of elephant, even to Mana's gracious and tolerant bulls. One captures the moment, and is grateful.

THE END

SHOWER CUBICLE SAGA Pt II - FIELD TRIALS

2011-08-22T00:30:00.000-07:00

I knew there would be a snag lurking somewhere in my and the cubicle's joint future.

Despite events, I am still convinced that the basic design is right. It worked fine at Mkanga Bridge, but - a key requirement - we had a tree there, close at hand, from which to hang the shower bucket.

But then we took to the water, on a couple of Wharram Tikis, and sailed across to the Matusadona shoreline. The cubicle was a key item on this part of the safari, as although the Tikis are reasonably well equipped in many respects, showering facilities are glaringly absent, and a suggestion to one's guests that they should bath in the lake - even in the middle - tends not to be well received, once they've glimpsed the monster crocodiles on the shorelines. Also, it being early August, the lake was excruciatingly cold, and it seemed unlikely that trying to warm up the whole of Kariba with half a jerrycan of boiling water would be a successful strategy.

In short, we needed the cubicle rather badly. However, the Matusadona shoreline is largely vegetated with mopane scrub and small terminalias, and tall sturdy trees are few and far between in most places. There were also a fair number of lions around, and besides, I am not totally au fait with the bureaucratic procedures involved in erecting shower cubicles on the Park shoreline. The Parks Authority issues permits for most things, at a price, but I have reviewed their schedule of costs and - oddly, in my view - there is no mention of shower cubicles.

The only option was to erect the thing on the trampoline of one of the catamarans - a precarious place at the best of times, and an eventuality I had not considered in my initial conceptualisation and subsequent construction.

This enabled the bucket to be suspended from a spare halliard, but standing on a catamaran's trampoline is like standing on top of a blancmange. One wobbles about. Just staying upright is difficult, let alone showering. Also, there's no place to anchor it properly, so a couple of the legs fell through the interstices in the trampoline. This, plus the weight of a wet towel, caused the cubicle to distort, as will be seen from the photo. Not many people can shower effectively while leaning at a 45degree angle, even on terra firma, let alone on top of a blancmange.

Happily, we had a wonderfully adaptable group of tour participants, and amazingly, most of them managed it. But during the second night one of Lake Kariba's famous katabatic winds came roaring down the hills and struck with unparalleled ferocity. The cubicle, needless to say, was the first casualty.

Those who have been following this saga will recall that the entire design depended on two pieces of electrical conduit, which provide the necessary tension to maintain the cubicle's shape.

They broke.

I achieved a temporary repair by whittling down a couple of small branches and sticking them up the inside of the conduits. But the cubicle's former symmetry was lost. It stood, sadly lopsided, for another day before being packed away for our return to Kariba and Harare.

There was also, as a couple of users pointed out, nowhere to place a bar of soap or a bottle of shampoo. This was especially hazardous on the Wharram trampoline, because if you dropped either or both of these items, they slipped through the gaps in the trampoline and disappeared into a creek that was alarmingly full of large crocodiles and electric barbel. And so, back to the drawing board. But I shall not give up. I refuse to be defeated. I have modifications in mind. So, I have to add, does Sally, who can be quite dogmatic on the subject. I'll have to be quick about it, as we need it again by next Sunday. So the saga will continue...

SHOWER CUBICLE SAGA

2011-07-25T05:00:00.000-07:00

I fought to subdue the creature that lashed out at me. I wrestled it to the ground, but it escaped from my grasp, struck out at me and dealt me a stunning blow to the face. Half blinded, I shouted for help. My brave clients came running and the five of us battled with all our strength, risking another deadly strike, to coil most of it into a canvas bag. We lay on top of it while someone got a length of rope, and lashed it round the bag until the beast finally lay quiescent.

I got wearily to my feet, and felt an overwhelming urge to draw my revolver and empty it into the now passive bag. But the loathsome thing was already damaged, possibly beyond recovery.

The shower cubicle isn't normally thought of as potentially dangerous wildlife, but it should be. The particular species I have in mind is the sort with a springy frame that - according to the instructions - collapses into three neatly-coiled loops with a couple of flicks of the wrist, like those windscreen shades some people have in the cars. Believe me, they don't. Those things are a deadly hazard, and if you really dislike somebody, you should give them one for Christmas.

I had already inflicted severe injuries on it when we first put it up, because:

a/. You couldn't hang a shower bucket inside it, from its frame, and if you tried to do so, it collapsed. Even if you did succeed, you'd have to shower kneeling down; and

b/. There was no overhead hole to permit us to hang the shower bucket over it from a branch. So I had cut a huge and jagged hole in its roof. How you actually got to have a shower in it, as supplied, was - and remains - a mystery, as the instructions were silent on that score, as they were on packing it away, beyond a couple of rune-like drawings.

I can only assume that these things are designed - in South Africa, in this case - for people who seldom go into the bush, by people who never do; stuff we now label 'yuppie 4x4 kit'. Ever since that experience I have been obsessed with the design and manufacture of a suitable alternative. Which, just possibly, I may now have done.

I took my cue from the dome tent poles that, when pulled into a bow, create an arch from which the tent is effectively suspended. Ordinary electrical conduit and waterpipe, I found, performs this function very well. My good friend Pete Taylor at Fereday's got the cover made up for me. The shower head connects to an overhead shower bag via a length of flexible hose, so positioning doesn't have to be exact. It works extremely well - at home, anyway - once I'd junked the stupid little Chinese-made shower rose that came with the bag and Pete located a good old Zimbabwe-made metal one that actually passes water, so to speak.

And there are no exhausting, fruitless battles to pack it away. One simply rolls the conduits and pipes into the cover and straps it to the roofrack. All that remains now is to see if it actually works in the bush without the conduits breaking under strain, the fabric becoming totally transparent when wet, the whole thing ending up in a tree during a windstorm, or some totally novel and unforeseen problem raising its ugly head.

Thus far, though, I am proud of it, and it's only taken two months' obsessing to get it this far. We will of course be happy to sell franchises at a vast price to build it commercially (if, of course, it survives, which we are soon to find out!).

2011-07-19T10:20:00.000-07:00

A PS to the post below on Mavuradonha and Kopje Tops: the Mavuradonha is also one of our most threatened wildernesses. The Great Dyke is of very high biological importance because of its endemic aloes and other species, and very little of the Dyke has any form of 'protected area' status. The 550sq km Mavuradonha Wilderness Area not only has a considerable area of the Dyke within its boundaries, but is also an IBA (Important Bird Area) and is virtually unique in that it was established and gazetted by local communities rather than central governments.

Unfortunately, the Dyke also contains large reserves of chrome and platinum. Several mines have now been established on the Mavuradonha's boundaries, with scant regard for biological or aesthetic values, and there is a serious danger that they may extend their operations into this superb wilderness.

Sadly, the Mavuradonha's present revenues from tourism and other sustainable activities simply cannot compete with the allure of chrome and platinum. It needs to be more widely known and appreciated, and more visited by tourists. There's a lot to see - the Raphia Palm sanctuaries, the rock paintings, the hill forts, the spectacular scenery and 'wilderness quality', and there's also a good chance of seeing wildlife as well, in totally natural surroundings.

2011-07-18T22:52:00.000-07:00

Sally and I just spent a couple of days with James and Janine Varden and Marvin Mutangara at their Kopje Tops Camp, in the western Mavuradonha Wilderness Area.

The Mavuradonhs lies some 200km north of Harare, and is one of Zimbabwe's least known but most spectacular wildernesses. Here, the bare hills of the Great Dyke and the granite ridges of the Zimbabwe highveld meet at the edge of the Zambezi Escarpment in a riot of mountains, river valleys, gorges and waterfalls. There's a small but important population of elephants, as well as sable, eland, and other antelopes; and the area is particularly well endowed with sites of cultural interest, such as San rock paintings and hilltop forts. James, Janine and Marvin are currently engaged in trying to gain National and World Heritage Site status for the Mavuradonha.

The accent at Kopje Tops is on horse-riding safaris into this magnificent wilderness. I thoroughly enjoyed an afternoon on horseback with Marvin, meandering through the hills and valleys; and a walk with James to some of the nearby rock art sites.

Kopje Tops lies on one of our favourite routes to the Zambezi Valley and Mana Pools areas - a great alternative to simply blasting up the tar road from Harare to Mana. The route usually takes us two or three days, with overnight stops here and at Mkanga Bridge, in the Zambezi Valley, where we 'camp wild' on the Mkanga River and visit the famous dinosaur trackways.

We already offer Kariba sailing and houseboat trips as interludes in our 4x4 tours, and we're now talking to James and Janine about offering horseback treks as another possible 'extra' - anything from an afternoon to a couple of days.

Cold Comfort

2011-07-01T01:23:00.000-07:00

If anyone thinks the Zambezi Valley is a tropical refuge in the midst of the southern African winter - think agaiu! Sally and I were at Mana last, week, wearing trackies and pullovers until ten o'clock, and driving with the car heater on.

The days were delightfully warm but the thermometer plummeted along with the sun at sunset. The need for cold beer swiftly changed to thoughts of mulled red wine. So be warned - you can get cold snaps anytime up to the end of August (and sometimes even later). Pack the trackies and pullovers, maybe take an extra blanket or two if camping, and get the fire going at sundown!