Road to Makuti

The van started slowing as we rounded a blind corner and we all knew what that meant. We had been expecting this for some time already so it was no surprise. Except perhaps to our driver who muttered to himself as he processed the incoming data. We had run out of fuel 30 kms from the Kariba Marina on a blind corner in a wild National Park on the narrow, dangerous and busy highway between Harare and the copper mines of Zambia.

"What do we do now" I asked helplessly. When the answer came back "I don't know" Greg and I looked at each other, cursed under our breath, and walked in opposite directions along the road in an attempt to flag down a vehicle.

After 6 long hours stopover in the middle of the night at a deserted OR Tambo airport in Johannesburg we were all hoping for a quick and incident free road transfer from Harare International to Kariba.

The reality was very different....

We had worked all day, flown from Cape Town International that evening and then been up all night at OR Tambo so we were tired when we landed in Harare after the 6 hour flight.

We strode out of the terminal confidently looking for a sign welcoming the Wood family...and Greg. But there wasn't one.

No worries, he will be here somewhere....After an hour of looking around and waiting I took decisive action. I will buy a Zimbabwean sim card and we can text/phone the camp to find out what the issue was.

$50 later I inserted the sim card into my phone and....... he wandered in, under the impression that flight was about to arrive.

No problem. Now we can sit back and relax and in no time we will be on the water transfer to Rhino Safari Camp. An easy 5 hour trip according to Google maps.

Should take around 5 hours

Due to the delay in leaving the airport and an accident on a busy artery out of the city we were possibly 2 hour hours behind schedule before we even left the outskirts of Harare. However once on the open road we continued with no urgency at a leisurely speed and in retrospect we realised that our driver was timing our trip so that we could stop at the legendary Lion's Den for lunch. That first 140 km that should take 2 hours actually took 3 hours. This, the late start and the crawl from Harare airport put us seriously behind the schedule.

Lion's Den for Lunch

Lions Den Butchery and Saucy Sue's Take Away are a bit of an institution for Harareans making the trip out to Kariba and it was a hive of activity. With good reason. The food is reasonably priced, the facilities and garden are an oasis in the heat and the food is tasty. Perfect break in the journey.....if you get the timing right.

However we had to be at the Kariba Marina for the water transfer by 4pm or we would not be able to make the crossing to the camp that night and the slow start meant we had some catching up to do. Not that we were any the wiser of this at the time. We were still happy in the knowledge that we were in good hands.....

Have I mentioned that the road was narrow? Added to that the edges were jagged tar with a noticeable drop to the loose ground next to the road. My over-active imagination pictured the the wheels of the van dropping off the side of the road with devastating consequences. Now that lunch was behind us I saw we were hitting speeds upwards of 140 km/hr in a van heavily laden with my precious family and every time we passed an oncoming wide-ass mining truck I breathed in to ensure that we could fit through the gap without careering off the side of the road.

At 140 km/hr with one third of the tarmac available we overtook 2 huge trucks carrying enormous abnormal loads presumably to the copper mines in Zambia and we saw the abandoned wrecks of numerous accidents on the sides of the road.

Somewhere along this stretch the charger for the cooler box carrying our refreshments started melting in the cigarette lighter and acrid plumes of smoke streamed into the drivers seat.

It was also about this time that Alison pointed out the fuel gauge. There was less than a quarter of a tank and we still had some distance to go. By now the blind faith in our intrepid driver had started to wane and real doubts set in, but surely he must know this road well enough....

A number of drivers, specifically the foreign tourists, avoided eye-contact as they sped past the stranded van on the side of the road, but several local Zimbabweans stopped to see what the problem was. Many couldn't help, but eventually a call was made to a Kariba resident who undertook to buy some fuel and drive it out to us, with compensation agreed, naturally. One of the passengers went as far as to stay with us until the help arrived.

This kind gentlemen sums up the character of most of the people of this country. He volunteered, with no request for payment, to sit on the side of the road on a Friday afternoon at the end of a busy week. He was a self-taught builder by trade, running his own construction business building ambitious multi-story dwellings in areas surrounding the Lake. From a poor background and separated from his family by his work commitments but with a humble, generous and positive nature. We will forever be grateful to him for the peace of mind his presence gave us.

After what seemed an eternity, about 2 hours, our help arrived. Two friendly Kariba residents decanted the fuel into the tank with some makeshift funnel fashioned out of a plastic container of some sort.

By now we had completely missed the transfer cutoff but Peter Tetlow of Rhino Safari Camp had made arrangements for us to spend the night at Hornbill Lodge on the hills overlooking the lake, so I could banish the thoughts I had of sleeping in the van on the side of the road somewhere.

We approached the steep descent down to the Kariba town just as the sun was setting in a smoky red haze behind the iconic rusting mopane hills.

It was dark by the time we reached the Lodge and we were greeted with a song and dance by the management and staff. After dumping our luggage we submerged ourselves to wash off the sweat, dust and tears in the cold waters of the swimming pool and I wasted no time in cracking open my first Zambezi lager while Alison sipped on her G&T.

OASIS - The pool at Hornbill Lodge

As the tension drained away I reflected on the fact that good things shouldn't come too easy. The challenges that we had faced and overcome as a family (and Greg) were part of the journey, created indelible memories and made the destination that much more special.

Early morning view from our room at Hornbill Lodge