There are hardly any aircraft at Harare\u2019s International Airport. I squint through the sunlight, taking in the meet of dignitaries as they greet various industry players stepping off the staircase descending from our red plane. We\u2019re here to celebrate a weekend launch of Zimbabwe\u2019s new low cost carrier Fresh Air, in the hope to boost tourism in a country long devastated by pain and corruption.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We\u2019re only in the capital for two hours, which we spend watching politicians introduce one another at least four times over. Then, a woman of the church (a pastor perhaps) utters a heartfelt prayer into the mic, thanking God for this new airline and asking Him to bless it. Everyone present agrees vociferously. Again, I have forgotten how \u2018secular\u2019 South Africa is in comparison to the rest of the continent. From Harare, we then leave for Victoria Falls and are met by local men dancing bare-chested, their feet beating against the hard tarmac, still warm from the day\u2019s winter sun.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That evening, we are treated to a carnivorous dinner at a nearby restaurant called the Boma<\/em>. Arriving at the entrance, we are given a tribal identity in the form of face paint and a colouful piece of cloth, wrapped loosely around our bodies. The night air is warm, especially when compared to the gust of the Cape storm from which we have just arrived.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There is lamb, and every other type of bush meat including warthog and crocodile tail, the latter which is surprisingly juicy. The buffet is an African treat, not forgetting the Mopani worm. I bite half, scrunch my face and then realise that I have tasted worse during a Sunday lunch in Asia. For my bravery though, I receive a certificate. The other evening \u2018dares\u2019 include visiting the sangoma<\/em>, who charges two dollars to wizard many of the women into believing that they are \u2018strong like man\u2019, as well as something to do with child bearing, \u2018Your first-born will be a boy\u2019, is his apparent prophesy. Personally, I decide to keep the voodoo at bay.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The next morning, we enjoy a sunny walk down Victoria Falls town\u2019s single main road. Every so often, someone approaches to ask if we would like to exchange trillions of Zim dollars for anything between R20 and R70. Two minutes later, we are met by a marketing crocodile handing out pamphlets for one of the towns many tour-operators. Apart from these friendly encounters though, we are left to take photographs and eventually find our way to the prestigious Victoria Falls Hotel (located about 5km away from our Elephant Hills Hotel).<\/p>\n\n\n\n The Victoria Falls Hotel looks onto the falls in the distance, where smoke rises. In the 18th<\/sup> century, this smoky visual lent itself to the descriptive Tokaleya-Tonga name Mosi-oa-Tunya<\/em> meaning: the Smoke that Thunders. As you look over manicured lawns towards the Falls, the view is just as great as when you turn around to face a colloquial establishment resembling the summer house of some European dynasty (I\u2019ve seen similar looking \u2018palaces\u2019 in Germany). Inside is just as breathtaking. Rooms are filled with giant portraits of 18th<\/sup> century women, a dark torso called Africa<\/em> and chandeliers, suspended from a ceiling high above. Obviously, not many would be able to afford these luxuries; however should you with to enjoy high tea at one of the four-seated tables on the patio outside, you can do so for just $18 USD. The experience comes so \u2018highly recommended\u2019; you can even read about it on Trip Advisor. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Soon afterwards, we are escorted to the Falls: a natural power and life source to the landscape directly surrounding it. Last year, I wrote about how I had walked down a dusty path on the Zambian side and after following a slight bend, saw the Falls for the first time. There was mighty rushing waters beneath the colours of a rainbow, almost spirit-like in its peacefulness. Seeing it for a second time, the awe returns and I stand as if in the presence of someone mighty. After much thought, I have decided that the view is better from the Zimbabwean side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Later that afternoon, we board for a sunset cruise down the Zambezi River. With my usual gin and tonic in hand, I chat to a most interesting (and retired) pilot Isaac Dlamini, momentarily encouraged to \u2018look at the elephant on the distant shore\u2019 or distracted to photograph a hippo, its teeth displayed in a generous yawn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Then as the sun marks West on the horizon, I think about how Zimbabwe has more potential than people give her credit for, and that though Uncle Bob\u2019s face bears down at you from many a portrait like King Julien XIII (self proclaimed “lord of the Lemurs” from the hit animation Madascar<\/em>) there are still two things that he will never control or change. Firstly, his shadow will never overpower the beauty of the land and the spirit of her locals. That is inherently Zimbabwean. Secondly, he will never stop the flow of the Zambezi as it falls with power and might into the gorge below, and for these reasons alone, Zimbabwe is not only worth the visit, but worth both our attention and travelling currency. All hail King Julien. Not! So whats the point then? Well,I suppose not everything is a success story- especially in Zim (lets be honest). Her people and land are beautiful, but she is scarred and possibly forever changed. But who can love the scars, you may ask. My best guess: those who are able to look beyond that which meets the eye. Who sees the heart of the land which reflects itself in her people: humble and kind, but not broken. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":171,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[85,86],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/168"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=168"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/168\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":172,"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/168\/revisions\/172"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/171"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=168"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=168"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theministryofmuffins.co.za\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=168"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
Sadly though, whilst this story managed to ‘get off the ground’, this airline never did. Fresh Air flew one flight from Johannesburg and Victoria Falls, after which it was grounded as 1time airline ‘filed for liquidation’.
So what\u2019s the point then? Well, I suppose not everything is a success story- especially in Zim (let\u2019s be honest). Her people and land are beautiful, but she is scarred and possibly forever changed. But who can love the scars, you may ask. My best guess: those who are able to look beyond that which meets the eye. Who sees the heart of the land which reflects itself in her people: humble and sad not broken.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"