| | |
I accompanied a group of Young Friends (Quakers) from Johannesburg to Bulawayo, as part of a short workcamp. Because of the long overland distances we had to travel, and the logistics of getting together 16 people from six different countries, (difficult) journeys became a theme for our time together!
 group in Gabarone, photograph by Sheldon Weeks
Most of the group first gathered in Johannesburg, converging there from Lesotho, Kwa-Zulu Natal and the UK. We then took a coach to Gabarone, spending three nights there in the hospitality of Sheldon Weeks and other Botswana Quakers.
This gave us a chance to visit the Gabs Natural History Museum, marvel at the huge Botswana skies, and see the projects Quakers are involved with there - a conference centre/hotel which, somewhat unusually, started off life as a refugee camp, and a counselling centre under construction. Botswana Quakers are few but busy!
|
A lizard that caused much interest at the Natural History Museum
|
Visiting the new counselling centre with Sheldon
|
 |
We travelled on from Botswana to Zimbabwe on an overnight bus, and didn't start well. The bus station was hectic, with people loading bags onto several buses bound for the border, but which were all full. After a long wait, we got on a bus that took us to the border at Plumtree.
|
loading and waiting at Gabarone bus station, as we sat in our bus
|
|
We arrived at the border before 6am, so had to wait until it opened. Leaving Botswana was easy and quick, but entering Zimbabwe was impossible. We had to wait again for no clear reason for about five hours to cross, mainly because the few officials who were doing the customs check kept stopping and starting, apparently at their own whim. The arbitrariness of their power over us all was very frustrating for the group, even though there wasn't any threat of aggression or obvious corruption. It was a pattern we'd see many times again, once over the border, especially at the many random police roadblocks.
I think we finally got over the border after a tedious wait of five hours, only to find the bus we'd arranged places on was now full. After some haggling we managed to get standing room, and gazed out of the windows, tired and uncomfortable, at the very different sights over the border from neat and tidy Botswana. People seemed to be living in open spaces around the border, and we were constantly asked if we wanted to change money on the black market, or our bus was stopped by police and other unnamed officials.
Many of the other passengers were carrying large quantities of goods, everything being in short and erratic supply in Zimbabwe, so the aisles and spare seats of the bus were crammed with bags, containers and boxes (one hung from above, hung onto a handrail by an enterprising passenger!). At one stop, many bags were awkwardly offloaded and reloaded - I wasn't sure quite who was delivering what for whom, as we watched from inside. It was sad to witness how many random hoops people had to jump through, to do things that should have been ordinary and simple.
Once we finally arrived at Bulawayo, we offloaded at the busy bus stop in town, and attracted a lot of attention from hawkers and people offering to transport our bags in metal trolleys. It was another hour of confusion before we got transport on to Hlekweni, and we were very glad to arrive!
|
|
Just a few days after arriving in Bulawayo we were on the road again, travelling further north to the border with Zambia, and Victoria falls. This time the problems were different. Our transport had been in for repairs for the previous six months, but still had not arrived until late in the morning. Then we had to do chores around town for several hours, including changing more money, and more waiting. We finally left Bulawayo several hours behind schedule, and having to drive very slowly, because of repairs to the engine.
Alfie looking out of the bus, as we travelled through Hwange Forest Reserve
 
the beginning of a long bus trip, and the end, always felt very different!
When we finally arrived at Victoria Falls, it was dark, and we badly needed to get a break from the road, and to eat. After some worried trawling around (even the Wimpy was shutting, even the Wimpy had looked inviting!) we found what seemed a reasonable restaurant, with live music as a bonus, and finally were able to relax.
 
That was until the bill came! Just over half a million (Zim) dollars! It wasn't actually that expensive, but it was difficult to count out the hundred-odd notes required to pay it, which spread out in piles across the table by the time we were ready.
|
|
 |
|
