So near and yet so far

We got up very early and dragged our lazy butts through the empty hallways of the hotel. The kitchen had prepared road food for us and so after loading the trucks we were ready to make the big push through to the border. The best part of starting that early is that no one feels like talking, and so everything was done with a minimum of effort, no communication and high efficiency. Even the zebra who hand out at the hotel were asleep except for one who we found wandering the hallways looking for a late night snack, and he was in his pajamas.



 

We made really good time and got to the border at about noon. Once again getting out was not a problem. Besides Henry backing up into a wall (there went another tail light) it was uneventful. 

The odd part was that the immigration officials made us fill out a police report because they were concerned that if we filed a claim for the “accident” and it had not been reported appropriately, they would be held liable. I think that they are becoming too Americanized with all of this fear of claims and lawsuits. In the end though, the Zambians I think were quite happy to see us go, and so with a minimum of formality, they passed us on to the Zimbabweans. I think that one of the weirdest things we saw was how used to humans the baboons have become. Here one is eating dead insects off the front bumper of a car at the border.

Waiting on top of the dam wall

 As we drove down the hill and over the dam wall it was an impressive sight. As we got to the far side we were told that we could not go any further. The Chinese are repairing the wall, expanding generating capacity and generally upgrading the hydro facility. Turns out they are also blasting big tunnels and we got there 30 minutes before the blast, so we wandered around waiting. The blast was huge and Allan got such a fright that he ran off the dam wall. I am not sure where he thought he would take refuge from and major calamity of he was standing on top of it. Anyway a few minutes later they allowed us to pass through the blast site and on to the customs and immigration area.

The papers had allegedly been sent ahead of us to the clearing agents so that the Zim customs folks wouldn’t hold us up. After all why would they want to stop a convoy of vehicles that can only be used for public service, and that were a donation so no one in the country was sending funds out to pay for them, and that have no duties assessed on them? We obviously if you cannot answer this question you are dumber than Zim Customs. First we had to have a discussion with a UN worker about Ebola and describe its symptoms. Then we had to have a purple ink splotch put on our thumbs after which we were allowed to go into passport control. Now the passport and customs office is in a tent which gets more than a little steamy inside in the 105 degree sunlight. The reason for this luxury is that the Chinese contractors working on the dam demolished the old structure before building the new one. So it is an atmosphere where everyone is jovial and compassionate and helpful. Right! We all made it through this part and were met by both the mayor of Harare and the mayor of Kariba.

 

It soon became obvious that they weren’t accepting the truck papers. Something was wrong and it appeared that we were not going to be able to solve it even with the politicians on our side. Eventually at 6 pm Peter yelled at them, told them that they could keep the fire engines and sort it out with the city of Harare. We were going home. We unpacked all of our stuff, climbed into four taxis and the mayor’s car and drove down the hill to the local marina, formerly the Rhodesian Riviera, where Peter has his boat and had also purloined a second one for us to sleep on. Mayor Ben also joined us for the night of eating, drinking making merry and for a few, sleeping on the deck. ( the smart ones among us took staterooms).

We got up early the next morning and four of us hopped in a speed boat to take a tour of the island where we had tied up in an effort to find the buffaloes that had wandered down to the bank during the night. We were zipping right along when all of a sudden there was a huge bump and thump and we ground to a very sudden stop. In the middle of the lake we had hit a rocky outcrop and run aground. Normally this is not a huge problem, you jump in the water, push the boat free and start up again. But in this water there are a lot of problems. Most of them are 4-10 feet in length are very mean looking and have huge teeth. Undeterred Andrew jumped in and I figured that just getting my weight of the boat would help, so I followed after looking very carefully for any sign of Mr. Croc in the area. We pushed free and made it back to the mothership, and had a great breakfast in the early morning light. The entire time we had been eating and joyriding, Peter had been on the phone and by 1030 rumor had it that 7 of the trucks had been cleared. So we called a fleet of taxis and headed back to the border. ( And no, Uber does not work there). We hung around for another couple of hours and finally were given the green light to head out.

The road up from there to Harare is horrendous, just as bad as the Zambian tracks, with lots of steep hills and tight turns exacerbated by 30 ton trucks hurtling round the bends towards you. If one of them were to hit anything it would be a disaster but somehow we managed to steer clear. Suddenly Peter pulled over and the other four trucks following him followed suit. He climbed down and came muttering and cursing along the side of the road that Johnny was breaking pieces off his truck. What and where and how was not divulged. About 15 minutes later the other trucks showed up. Turns out the water tender that Johnny was driving had started breaking from the roads. It has a big pump ( oops, had a big pump) on the back behind the water tanks, and all of the bouncing on the potholes of the last week had taken a toll. The entire pump and its connecting pipes had broken loose from the water tanks, beaten down the side panel of the truck bed and apparently became a 300 lb. bowling ball bouncing down the road at 50 mph. right in front of Sel. The guys picked it up, loaded it into another truck and caught up with us. It really wasn’t  Johnny’s fault but sometimes the habit of blaming him dies hard. 

We arrived in Harare at about 7 that night and pulled into Peter’s driveway with lights and sirens on. Lots of fun. Then it was an amazing dinner arranged by Cleo Raft and Taki and a few others and off to our hotels for a good night’s sleep. For the first time in 2 weeks we almost all had our own rooms but Henry and Jarrett still like spooning so they shared.

Our Bed and breakfast was outstanding, beautiful rooms with working TV, and a great breakfast. We spent the day hanging out and ironing our uniforms for the big handing over ceremony and cocktail party that evening.