In May 1992 I met some raft guides in Cape Town.
I wasn’t really sure what raft guides actually did but they seemed great fun and had endless funny stories to tell of rafting around the world and particularly on the Zambezi.
I have to confess that at the time I couldn’t actually picture where Zimbabwe or the Zambezi or Victoria Falls actually were in relation to Cape Town.
What I did know was that I had come to Africa for adventure and I wanted to find out where these mystical places were.
After feeding these guides free drinks for a few nights I eventually persuaded them to give me lift from Cape Town to Victoria Falls.
I handed in my cocktail shaker and barman’s apron, said goodbye to the fellow barman and off I went.
I could write a long tale about the road trip alone.
It was a blast and was an epic journey that took about a week to complete with all sorts of detours along the way.
We arrived in Victoria Falls in early June.
My companions all had jobs and I didn’t.
I had no idea how to become a raft guide.
I knew a bit about farming and restaurants, nothing about rafting and had no money.
In the bar that night I was offered a chance to join a trainee boat of raft guides.
After surviving the day I was told I could train with the new recruits but with no promise of a salary.
After a few trainees fell by the wayside I was offered a job as a trainee with guaranteed accommodation.
A month or so later and after 40+ trips down the Zambezi I was given my rafting wings.
What followed was one of the best six months of my life.
As a raft guide you earned good money and every working day was filled with thrills, challenges, adrenalin and fun.
Evenings were spent knee deep in beer and generally misbehaving with a great team of friends.
Days off were spent exploring local parks like Hwange, Zambezi and Chobe National Park.
The sense of camaraderie and adventure were everything I had gone to Africa for.
Unbeknown to me at the time, these explorations were what eventually got me into the safari business.
After numerous shoulder dislocations whilst rafting I had to give it up and return to the UK for an operation.
I was absolutely gutted to leave the Falls and friends behind.
Having got involved in the safari business in the UK in 1993 I had reason to return to Zimbabwe regularly throughout the 90’s.
It was great to be able to keep up with friends and to see Zimbabwe rightly grow into a popular safari destination and to support the country by sending hundreds of clients there.
Then on 16th February 2000 Robert Mugabe lost a referendum vote.
Mugabe was not used to losing anything and from that moment onwards has been hell bent, it seems, on punishing everybody he can for this lack of support.
The taking of lands from the white farmers and attacking MDF supporters has been well publicised.
From this time onwards at Aardvark we have only sent two people to Zimbabwe.
Not as a political statement but because nobody has asked to go there.
It was therefore with excitement and a little trepidation that I returned to Victoria Falls this September for a raft guides reunion deliberately planned to celebrate the 150 years since David Livingstone discovered the Victoria Falls.
I had not been back to the country I know best of all in Africa for eight years.
The excitement started early as I bumped into old faces in Johannesburg airport all on their way to Victoria Falls for the mother of all weekends.
A whole series of events had been planned, there was a registration on arrival so you could book group days, rafting, canoe safari or golf etc.
I hadn’t remembered anybody being so organised in the past.
I was surrounded by old familiar faces many with young children at their feet and wives and girlfriends, some of whom I knew.
It instantly felt good to be back, and the local Zimbabweans who have been through a tough past five years or so seemed thrilled that so many people had made the effort to come and visit.
All the ingredients for a cracking weekend were there and the party started in earnest with many icy Zambezi beers polished off before bedtime.
I was surprised to see everybody very casually walking around with a massive rolls of money hanging out of their pockets.
I quickly changed 200 South African Rand, (about £18) into Zimbabwe Dollars.
I got three million.
Now I belonged and had my own massive roll.
When I lived in Victoria Falls the largest note had been a Z$20.
I earned around Z$2500 per month and lived like a king.
Now the only note was Z$25,000 and it cost between Z$80,000 and Z$125,000 for a beer.
To do the weekly shopping you would need a plastic bag rammed with cash, not very comfortable when there are many desperate hungry local all around.
I was lucky enough to stay with old friends Paul & Marie Connolly, who have lived in the Falls since the 80’s.
I obviously asked them about the political tensions, rampant inflation, lack of tourists and general living conditions in Zimbabwe.
These are tough, hard working people, whose lives have been directly affected by the political problems.
Yet they wanted to make it clear that although they were having a tough time they were still extremely fortunate compared to the mass of the population.
They still had a somewhere to live, food on the table and funds which allowed them to continue to function.
I went to the petrol station as we had a slow puncture and needed some air.
There was a sign saying, ‘No Diesel or Petrol’.
Yet pump attendants still turned up in the hope of getting paid.
When I enquired how long since they had had fuel the answer was six weeks.
I had heard that although Victoria Falls was far from Harare and Bulawayo it had not escaped the brutal ‘Operation Drive Out Trash’ policy of clearing temporary housing or street traders.
Government forces had gone into Chinotimba the township area of Victoria Falls at 4am and told residents to grab their belongings and leave their houses (shacks) immediately.
The houses were then ripped down and the wood and plastic sheeting gathered up and burned.
I heard of a one armed man who could not drag his bedding and belongings out of his house alone as he was too weak.
The police would not help him so his house was simply burnt with his only belongings still in it.
All these people are somehow meant to disappear into the bush and live off nothing in the middle of the dry season where temperature are already hitting 38°C (100.
4°F) One night John Duckney, an English friend, Peter Dunning a Zimbabwean and I went to get a pizza at one of the smart tourist hotels.
The bill for three pizzas, four beers and three bottles of water came to Z$1.
8 million.
With tip it came to Z$2 million.
For somebody like me with appalling mathematical skills this bill involved a lot of counting and another very big wad of cash.
As we left the restaurant Peter said he sold his four bedroom house in Victoria Falls four years ago for Z$2.
8 million.
This summed up the horrors of inflation and how it affects both rich and poor.
On the way back to Johannesburg, Victoria Falls’ airport bar had run out of bottled water and coke.
Because of the lack of fuel they had not had a drinks delivery for weeks.
Anybody who has travelled in Africa or the third world generally will know you can get a coke or beer anywhere however poor and remote the village is.
It may be warm but you can buy it.
My pleasure of the weekend was deeply tinged with sadness at seeing the state to which this little corner of Zimbabwe has been reduced.
I dread to think what more rural, less well known areas were experiencing.
The negative publicity generated in the UK toward Mugabe and his regime has generally put a cloud over the whole country.
With all the talk of debt relief, fair trade and helping Africa this regime is the epitome of why people are sick of poor governance and the constant blaming of their colonial past for the modern day, often self inflicted, woes of this continent.
It is so sad for the normal people of Zimbabwe, black and white, to be thought of as bad people.
Judging from my travels around Africa I think you will struggle to find a more positive and warmer people than Zimbabweans.
I really hope Zimbabwe can sort itself out some time soon as I can’t wait to plan holidays in this wonderful and diverse country.
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