Friday, July 4, 2015: Victoria
Falls, Zimbabwe:
The Thrills of an Elephant Back
Safari:
We could not afford the luxury of a long
lie-in as we needed to set our alarms really early as Llew and I would be
picked up at 6. 15 am to participate in the Elephant Back Safari for which we
had signed up ($125 per head). In about half an hour, we were down in the hotel
lobby joining a few other hotel guests who were already in the coach that took
us on the bumpiest half hour ride through near-desert vegetation to get us to
the ‘farm’ where tamed, trained elephants take visitors on a ride through the
Bush to spy wildlife from the back of an elephant.
Once we alighted from the bus, we
made our way to the base camp where we were treated to hot tea or coffee and
biscuits—once again, the British colonial touch was unmistakable. It felt
chilly, despite the fact that we had dressed warmly in layers. So you can
imagine how grateful we felt for the massive teak wood fires that were lit in
pits in the ground. They threw out an abundant amount of heat that warmed us to
the core and prepared us for the ride that lay in store.
Another half hour later, we were
mounting the metal staircase to get on to the elephant’s back. Llew and I were
given one elephant (named Tatou) and one guide named Taurai—and for the next 45
minutes, we took a slow and leisurely stroll through the Bush in search of
animals. We were warned that sightings depended entirely on our luck. Although
it was still very early in the morning (about 7.00 am), there weren’t many
animals to be seen—there were loads of guinea fowl in flocks running all over
the place, but it didn’t seem as if we would see very much. And then about 15
minutes into our ride, during which time Taurai kept up a running commentary on
the landscape, its vegetation, elephant habits, etc. we spied it—a single wild
elephant in the distance feeding on a tree. Our line of tamed elephants with
their trainers in charge kept a respectful distance: no one wished to
antagonize the wild elephant who was liable to charge at any time—particularly
while feeding. When we had feasted our eyes on the sight, we moved on—only to
spy a little group of wart hogs—funny-looking animals who run with their tails
pointing upright in the air! We had opportunities to take pictures sitting on
our elephant’s knee, we had the experience of feeding it treats (little pellets
name of molasses, maize (corn), sunflower seeds, etc.) We took a lot of
pictures and when we felt as if we were ready to say goodbye to our elephant,
we adjourned into the tent for a typical Bush Breakfast.
Partaking of a Bush Breakfast:
Indeed by the time we were seated
with the rest of our party at long tables, we were so ready for a big meal—why
is it that staring at animals makes one so hungry? It was hard to fathom the
reason—but we all did justice to the buffet offerings: eggs were freshly
prepared for us, according to individual taste, on roaring wood fires that
imparted an unusual smoked flavor to everything we tasted. There were sausages,
minced meat stew, tomatoes and onions well sautéed, baked beans and toast. Clearly,
the colonial impact is still alive and licking in Africa and we were treated to
the thrills of a “Full English” in the Bush! Juice, tea and coffee were also
plentifully available. We chatted with our travel companions—almost all of
whom, except for two Aussie females, came from various parts of America. Almost
all of them had stories to tell of the various safaris they have taken in the
past couple of weeks, their close encounters with animals in the wild and their
newly-gained knowledge of African wildlife. We became very excited about the
safari treats that lay in store for us at Kruger.
And then, just as we reached the
very edge of the game reserve, we spied a small cluster of four zebras also
feeding off the foliage. It was not a bad elephant back safari after all.
Having said that, at the cost of $125 per head, it was far too steep and it is
not something we would recommend if one has ridden an elephant in any part of
the world—as we have done in Jaipur, Kerala and Thailand.
It was about hour later that we were
back in our hotel, only to find that our friends had eaten a substantial buffet
breakfast in the hotel and were ready to take a hike to the Victoria Falls—the
very reason who had made a detour to this tiny town. By this time, we had the
opportunity to marvel at the fantastic location of our hotel for it overlooks
the Zambesi Gorge and the Rainbow Bridge that spans it. Although the canyon hit
the actual falls from sight, we could easily discern the foamy, smoke-like mist
that floats above the Falls because the volume and velocity are so great. The
hotel is surrounded by manicured lawns that are well-watered to an emerald
green spruceness. And best of all, it was just a short ten minute walk through the
Bush, part of Zambesi National Park, to the Falls.
At the entrance to Zambesi National
Park, at the point where we purchased tickets to enter and see the Falls ($30
per head), those among us without adequate waterproof gear, including Llew,
rented plastic ponchos for $3 each. They are distributed in lovely vivid colors
and they make beautiful pictures.
The trail leading to the Look-Out
Decks on the canyon that forms the Victoria Falls is lined with well-numbered
spots each of which offers a different perspective of the Falls. Cheri-Anne,
who is a member of our party, suggested that we start with the furthest point
(Number 16) and make our way down the River to Spot Number 1 which is
considered the most impressive one—named Devil’s Throat. And so for the first
fifteen minutes, as the roaring thunder of the falls drew nearer, we passed
through Bush and got increasingly wetter. Although one speaks of it as spray, the
Falls generate what amounts to a small downpour—I had a raincoat on but I was
cold and as water trickled down my drenched baseball cap and flowed down my
neck, I got colder and wetter beneath!
Meanwhile, with every step, we
inched closer to the Falls. At the summit, spectacularly breathtaking sights
awaited us. There were double rainbows in the deep canyon where the water met
the river bed. But the force was so strong and the spray so high that it was
difficult to pull our cameras out of our pockets to take pictures. Besides, the
mist flowing over the stones that skirt the canyon make the area extremely
slippery and dangerous and there are no guard rails to stop a fall (shudder!).
All of this makes the spot daunting but compelling. We braved the elements and
took pictures, all the time thinking as Cheri-Anne put it, “This is like
Niagara on Viagara!” And no truer words were ever spoken! It was incredible to
behold and we simply could not drag ourselves away from the sight.
At the Bridge Look Out point, we
watched bungee jumpers catapult over the river with all the daring the human
heart can muster. One can take a walk across the Bridge (A Bridge Tour) and get
over on the other side—to another country, Zambia. But as we did not have visas
to get there, we contented ourselves with a look over on the other side.
But inevitably, despite the
attractions of the view and the dare-devil bungee jumpers, as we had to move
on, we did. We continued down river making our way through the descending order
of numbered Look Out points and taking pictures everywhere of the wall or
curtain of water that is formed by the mile long length of canyon over which
the river tumbles to the base. Eventually, when we got to Number One, we found
a confluence of a number of natural elements: a gorge, three or four different
types of waterfalls depending on height, width and volume, a very narrow
natural gorge, a brilliant rainbow. And when we eventually turned away from
this sight, we gazed in wonder upon the sculpture of Dr. David Livingston, the
explorer who in 1855 ‘discovered’ the natural wonders of Africa, including the
Victoria Falls and lived to tell the world about them. He, naturally, named
them for his Queen—Victoria. The grand towering sculpture of Livingston as
Explorer is by Walter Reid and it was installed in 1955 by the Lieutenant
Governor of Rhodesia, Lord Llewellyn (my husband’s name sake) to mark the
centenary of the ‘discovery’. It does not matter whether one starts or ends the
trek through the well-marked trail at this point—the sculpture has a tremendous
impact and we loved every second. I was reminded of a lesson I had in middle
school (Grade VII) about the eventual meeting of another English explorer
Stanley who, on encountering the ‘lost’ explorer, uttered the words, “Dr.
Livingston, I presume.”
It was while we were walking back to
our hotel from the Falls that an elephant suddenly materialized in front of us.
Having just emerged from the river, it gleamed a startling iron-grey! Llew and
I stood by to take pictures with the elephant in the back of us when, coming
down the path in front of us, were two gentlemen. Since the elephant was
concealed behind a very large bush from which it was feeding, the men had no
idea he was there. We did not know how to warn them—yelling out to them might
have frightened the elephant. Hence, they were only about two feet from the
elephant when they saw it—and it was at this point that the elephant got
annoyed at being disturbed while he was feeding. It reared up angrily, tossed
its trunk far behind and trumpeted at them in anger—a sound that so startled
the men that one of them reared up in return! Had we the presence of mind to
videotape it, it would have made a conversation piece for the rest of our
lives! However, in a few minutes, the massive animal calmed down and the guy
who turned out to be British said, “Bloody Hell! My heart is still thundering
in my chest!” When I look back upon the incident now, I find myself cracking up
with laughter—but indeed, had the elephant become more enraged, it could have
had a very ugly or a very sad ending.
Back in our hotel, we decided to go
out to explore the little town of Victoria Falls as we did have the rest of the
afternoon free until we met again with our friends in the hotel lobby for High
Tea. As in the case of many towns with one fabulous attraction (Foz de Iguazzu
in Brazil, Agra in India, etc.) so too here the town of Victoria Falls is tiny,
dusty and unimpressive. A short walk through it took us into many of the
souvenir stores where we found trading in the parallel currency of US dollars
which is as good as legal tender in Zimbabwe. But how terribly exorbitant all
the prices seemed to us! A single postcard cost $1 (in the US, once can find at
least 3, even 4, for the same price). A fridge magnet cost $5, a T-shirt
regardless of design or size, was a flat $20. There was simply no bargaining,
no room for negotiation, and we soon discovered that all the stores have the
exact flat rate for every item they sell—there is no such thing as
undercutting!
But there are crafts galore for
anyone who wishes to purchase them: wonderful native African woods like teak
and mahogany are carved into animal figurines and polished to a high shine.
There are bowls, carvings galore, brightly-painted masks, beaded jewelry. You
name it, the shops sell them—the craftsmanship is fine and it is clear that
these people take pride in their talents and their wares. Unfortunately, we did
not wish to carry anything home, so contented ourselves with the mandatory
postcard and magnet that we buy from every place we visit—and a T-shirt for my
brother Russel who collects them. When we had acquired a small taste of the merchandise
on offer, we strolled back to our hotel—only to be accosted by an army of
baboons—large, fierce monkeys that stalk garbage bins in search of food to
forage. We saw so many that our camera could not keep up with their speed and
agility.
A short rest (read nap for me) in
the hotel saw me rise to partake of the next meal on our agenda—High Tea on the
Livingston Terrace of our hotel with the mist rising from the Falls in the
background. Two members of our party, Ian and Raghu, were already at the meal
when we arrived there. They had foregone the pleasures of bungee jumping,
zip-lining and swinging that the teenaged kids in our party—Kristen, Neil and
Carl—had signed up for. While their Mums, Jenny-Lou and Cheri-Anne accompanied
them, their husbands sat back to enjoy the treats of the Afternoon Tea table.
And what a splendid repast it turned
out to be! The wonderful colonial ambience is retained in these lost outposts of
Empire: three tiered silver-plated cake stands, fine bone china, gleaming
silverware, linen napkins—the whole nine yards. We feasted on plain and fruit
scones with unlimited strawberry jam and whipped cream (no clotted cream
outside Cornwall!), the most delicious cucumber sandwiches, smoked salmon
rounds, curried chicken and chutney rolls, egg salad crostini—all delicious.
And on to the sweets: lemon tarts, apple tarte
tatin, chocolate mousse slices, tiny meringues. And unlimited pots of tea!
What a lovely time we had as we recounted our respective day to each other—the
wild elephant encounter was a big part of our story!
In about an hour, we were joined by
the rest of our party—the kids proudly displaying video tracks of their bungee
jumps over the Zambesi Gorge! We were suitably impressed by their prowess. With
bills settled, Llew and I took leave of them to return to our room for showers
and to get ready for the next item on our program—yet another meal! We were off
to a Boma Dinner.
At 6. 45pm, after showering and
dressing semi-formally, we were picked up in a van for the short ride during
which we made friends with Ian and Sylvia, two travelers from our home state of
Connecticut. They were delighted to meet us as we drove to a Safari Lodge for
the Boma Dinner. A Boma is a traditional cast iron pot in which Africans from
the Bush cooked their food over wood-burning fires. Every country has such a
cultural experience (when we were in Hawai’i, we had attended a traditional
Luau Dinner). This one was held in a huge thatched roof tent. At the entrance,
we were each draped in a colorful cotton sarong bearing African prints. Paint
was applied to our cheeks—two dots for each lady, two stripes for each man. We
were led to our table and a tiny amount of a potent local brew, a beer made of
maize (corn) was poured for our tasting pleasure. It tasted distinctly like
‘toddy’, a local drink made from tapping coconut palm trees in South India. Llew
did not like it at all while I found it barely palatable.
Appetizers followed: corn fritters,
nimo beans (they tasted like boiled peanuts—very good), boiled sweet potato
chunks. Our server instructed us to move to the spit where whole roasted lambs
were spread-eagled on the coals—it was very tender and very delicious and
served with…guess what? Mint sauce, of course! More examples of the colonial
hangover. Over by the salad station, we found a variety of greens and braised
and roasted veg with Smoked Crocodile Tail-End taking pride of place. I tasted
some of it—and guess what it tasted of…why, chicken of course! Over at the
grilling station, we were each presented with a sizzler platter and asked to
choose from a wide variety of game meat: warthog steaks, Cape Buffalo steaks,
regular sirloin steaks. In terms of ethnic offerings, I made sure I tasted kudu
stew (a type of deer-like animal from the Bush) and guinea-fowl stew. But I
have to say I had to draw the line at tasting Mopani Worms—these looked like
short, fried earthworms coated in a chocolate sauce. Those brave enough to
venture to put one into their mouths were awarded a Certificate: “This is to
state that So and So ate his first Mopani Worm on So and So date.” I was sorely
tempted to taste one just so I could go home with the certificate—but I
chickened out. Get it? I chickened out!!!We also tasted Sadza, a type of
polenta that is eaten with stewed meats. Everything was delicious, but we were
so stuffed by the end of the meal that we had to forego the Desserts Station,
much to my disappointment as sweets are my favorite part of a meal! Oh well…you
know why they say, “Life’s Too Short. Have Dessert First!” For those
interested, there was everything one could desire: trifle (colonial influence
intervening again), white chocolate mousse, chocolate gateau, individual
caramel custards, apple streudel, bread pudding. Truly, the entire meal was a
feast for a king, or a queen. And for a while at least, we were made to feel
like royalty.
As in the case of all such meals,
the Boma Dinner was a cultural experience and included much more than a
gigantic menu. It was an introduction to the music and dance of Africa and
throughout the meal we were regaled by groups of singers and dancers dressed in
elaborately colorful clothing playing cymbals, drums and maracas. The show was
interactive and the audience was invited to join in. The last part of the meal
was a wonderful recital on the drums. Every single one of us was provided with
a drum and by following the lead of the main conductor, we were instructed to
join in. Finally, the entire group was encouraged to come to the dance floor
and show off their moves! Needless to say, the Africans present were the best
dancers, They moved with the most marvelous ease on the lightest feet with effortless
rhythm. We loved it. Llew was not as shy as I am and when he was pulled on to
the floor, he joined in sportingly while I was only prepared to make a fool of
myself while there were lots of people on the dance floor with me.
At
the end of the evening’s entertainment, we went to the entrance of the
restaurant past vendors showing off their lovely carved animals and other wares
for the unbelievable prices of one and two dollars for beautifully finished
pieces. It was impossible to reconcile the fact that we had paid $20 for an
ordinary T-shirt and yet could purchase carved wooden animals for one and two
dollars. A short drive in the van that had taken us to the Lodge dropped us
back to the hotel where we were extremely grateful to curl up on incredibly comfortable
beds and look back on our eventful day. It is amazing how much we managed to
cram into a very brief stop at the Victoria Falls and how interesting and
different every single one of our activities were. Indeed, the Victoria Falls
provided a very interesting introduction to the diversity of Africa and we felt
grateful that we were off to such a great start.
So
far away were we from the ethos of home that it was only very late in the day
that we realized it was July 4 and that our fellow-Americans were celebrating
America’s Birthday Back Home!
Until
tomorrow, cheerio!
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