 
### A Lonely Man in Africa

By

Terry Minett

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Published by Terry Minett at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Terry Minett

Cover design by

Obusa

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### Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This ebook must not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopied, recorded without the written permission of the Author

* * * * *

All characters in this book are fictitious, any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

* * * * *

Parts of this book contain adult content.

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Index

Chapter 1 - The Dark Continent

Chapter 2 - Reunited

Chapter 3 - City of Kings

Chapter 4 - Monkeys and Baboons

Chapter 5 - Victoria Falls

Chapter 6 - Train Plane Bakkie

Chapter 7 - Bush School

Chapter 8 \- The Beginning of the End

Chapter 9 - Farewell

Chapter 10 - I'm Free

Chapter 11 - Eastern Highlands

Chapter 12 - Silver Fox

Chapter 13 - Border Hop Malawi

Chapter 14 - The Warm Heart of Africa

Chapter 15 - The Girl The Bicycle The Tea Plantations

Chapter 16 - Dzivarasekwa to Kariba

Chapter 17 - Gray's Inn

Chapter 18 - Back to BYO

Chapter 19 - Travelling with a Woman

Chapter 20 - Is it Malaria?

Chapter 21 - Marriage in BYO

Chapter 22 - Back in Africa

Chapter 23 - Nairobi to Mombasa

Chapter 24 - Meet the Family

About the Author

~~~~~

Chapter 1

The Dark Continent

The aircraft wheels touchdown on the runway. I'm in Johannesburg, South Africa, care of British Airways.

I've read a lot about this city, most of it being the violence that's happening here. My intention is not to stay here but to travel over the border to Botswana.

Formalities complete I find myself out in the main hall. Like most modern airports it's very busy. I notice a tourist information booth, I need to ask some questions.

I ask the lady,

"where can I get the bus to Gaborone from?"

The lady at the desk informs that there isn't a bus to Gaborone, only mini taxis. She then starts to give me a lecture on the issues of this city. I'm told the area where the taxis are parked isn't safe.

She's obviously very concerned for my safety, she asks me to wait for a moment.

She's calling another man across. When he arrives she explains to him where I want to go. She tells him to take me to a taxi and tell the taxi man where to drop me off.

She turns to me and explains what I've already overheard. She tells me when the taxi drops me off stay by the mini taxi stand, don't wander away.

Fucking hell this sounds a little serious.

My reply to her is that I will obey her words totally. I thank her very much for her help and concern for my well-being.

Her colleague escorts me out to some parked taxis, soon I'm being driven through this modern city.

The driver also lectures me on the dangers of this area.

"Don't wander off, just stay where I'm going to drop you",

he says.

Finally we reach our destination. The driver also gets out and speaks to one of the people organising the taxis. He gets back in his cab, he bids me farewell and he's gone.

I stand here on the pavement, it looks pretty normal to me. There's lots of people around, but I don't see any white faces, only black. The drive here was a mix of people, white and black.

Finally the time comes to board the taxi. The vehicle is a Toyota Hiace, I think. We enter through a sliding door on the side. Maybe there are twelve passengers, not including myself. The journey time is supposed to be six hours.

The driver moves away from the taxi stand. Driving through the city we are soon on some kind of free-way.

Inside the taxi the people talk and laugh. They are very interested to find out what I'm doing.

More time passes, I look out of the window and see miles of countryside.

We make a stop at a small town, everybody gets out for some drinks and to use the toilets.

The town is very clean, there's a mix of white and black residents.

I wonder what it's called?

The driver toots the horn, it's time for everyone to board the taxi again.

One lady is very fat, she has great difficulty squeezing her big frame back into her seat. Jokes are made about her size, she laughs with everyone else.

I'm glad she's not sitting next to me.

We are on the move again. Leaving the town behind us we are soon in the countryside.

I really am surprised by what I'm seeing. Africa looks a beautiful place, at least what I've witnessed so far.

We reach the border, it seems well organised.

The driver pulls up, he directs us to the passport control.

Everyone gets out, the big lady needs some assistance from the other passengers.

I reach the counter and get my exit stamp. That's an entry and exit stamp on the same day.

The same procedure is followed on the Botswana side, and we are all back in the taxi heading for the capital.

I'm not sure how long we've been driving, but I will be glad to finish the journey. This taxi is not the most comfortable mode of transport.

We finally reach Gaborone, it looks quite organised. I believe it's a new city, it's a new country really.

I can see lots of development going on, the government here is spending money well.

The taxi reaches the terminal in the city centre, I'm glad to be here. I think the big lady is glad the journey is over.

I need to find a phone and call the number Maria sent me.

~~~~~

Chapter 2

Reunited

It's not long before Maria arrives. We fling our arms around each other exchanging kisses.

She's made a plan for both of us. Tonight we will stay at a house here in the capital. Tomorrow we will go to the school where she's teaching.

A short taxi ride and we arrive at the house we are sleeping at tonight. It belongs to another girl who's teaching placement is at a school here in the capital. Her name is Judith.

The evening is spent talking, eating and drinking with Judith and two other people, they also have their placements here. They are Richard and Jennifer.

I do feel a little out of place here. These young people seem to think they know Africa, they've only been here a month.

I ask them about their travel experiences? Spain seems to be the limit. None of them have ever left home before.

When we go to bed Maria seems to be gagging for it. We are soon joined together at the pelvic region. I'd forgot how good love making with Maria is.

We're back at the bus terminal boarding a bus to Maria's work place. It doesn't take long before we are heading out of the city.

After one hours drive I realise the bush here is a little boring, it's very dry. The roads are very good, absolutely straight and very new, with very little traffic.

We've passed through a few small towns, Maria beckons me to stand. We are getting off the bus here.

We seem to be in the middle of nowhere.

We both get off the bus and watch it drive into the distance. I look one way and then the other, there's nothing, just bush. The road is perfectly straight going off into the distance. It reminds me of a movie when someone is waiting for a lift in the desert states of America.

Maria tells me to follow her.

We start to walk into the bush following a narrow path. The ground is sand, very dry. Some of the vegetation is armed with long spikes, they would cause a lot of pain I think.

Maria points ahead to some buildings that are slightly elevated.

"That's my school darling",

she says.

"That's good sweetheart",

I reply.

"It must be three or four kilometres away, fuck.

Finally we reach the school perimeter and entrance gates, not too soon either it's getting dark.

The security man gives us access. Maria leads me to a small bungalow.

Once inside the bungalow we fall onto the chairs. After a little rest Maria goes to prepare some food for both us.

The rest of the evening is spent telling each other what we've been doing. I do more listening, I think she's excited to tell me about her new occupation.

The night is another passionate one, I think we've both been missing the physical attraction we have for each other.

It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining in a pure blue sky, not a cloud to be seen.

I'm sat in the garden watching the Weaver birds making their nests. Looking down at the ground, I see lots of different insects which I don't recognise. One which I do know is the ant, but these are monsters, very big.

Maria's gone to her classroom to tidy up a few loose ends. There's no teaching, it's a holiday.

Maria returns after one or two hours. I'm not sure how long because I've been so fascinated watching the activities around me.

She wants to show me around the school. I think it's too hot, but I agree to go with her to keep her happy.

Back at the bungalow we sit and chat. We talk about what we should do during her holidays. My suggestion is to go to the neighbours, Zimbabwe.

She thinks it's a good idea.

"When?"

she asks me.

"How about tomorrow?"

I reply.

We've made a plan, tomorrow we will go to Francistown. We will sleep there for one night, then cross the border into Zimbabwe. I have a tent so that should keep the cost down.

The rest of the day and evening is spent relaxing with each other, and making some good love.

It's another hot day. We make our way through the bush to the main road. Once there we start to flag down vehicles.

"One good mode of transport is to jump in the back of a small pick-up truck, called a bakkie. The driver charges a small fare to cover the petrol costs".

Finally we find a bakkie that's going all the way to Francistown. We jump aboard, soon we are speeding along a deserted highway.

The journey is quite exhilarating, the wind in your face, sitting in the back of a small pick-up with black Africans.

The bush for me is a little boring, the same scenery mile upon mile.

We arrive in Francistown, it's still only four in the afternoon. Next we look for a taxi to the hotel we want to go to.

"At this hotel we can camp".

Fares agreed, our taxi driver is soon taking us to our hotel.

We arrive at a big entrance. We drive down a long driveway, all looking very splendid with green plants and trees. Finally we reach the parking area.

To the left is the main hotel building, to the right well manicured lawns.

With the fare paid and the taxi departed, we are approached by a black lady, she's very tall, and in a uniform. She's in charge of the camp-site.

She shows us where we can pitch our tent, to my surprise it's on this beautiful well kept lawn. She then takes us to the showers and toilets, they're very clean.

Within ten minutes the tent is erected and the bed prepared.

Maria and I sit outside the tent on the grass. Looking around we both agree how beautiful it is.

The main hotel is only one hundred metres away. It's got a very African look with it's thatched roof and large timbers. The gardens have lots of different colours, there's lots of big trees.

The sun finally disappears, day becomes night. We head for the hotel bar, we haven't eaten all day.

Entering the bar, first thing I notice is most of the clientèle is white and the workers black.

Maria chooses a place to sit, I go and order drinks and ask for a menu.

I join Maria at the table. The waitress brings our drinks, she's very pretty and very polite. We give her our food order which is delivered to us very quickly.

"We consume it the same way, very quickly, we were hungry".

The bar's got a very African feel. Looking up you see the timber structure of the roof and the thatch. The walls are decorated with wood craft, the furniture is also wood carved.

The rest of the evening is spent talking and drinking, until we both decide we need some fresh air.

Surprisingly it's very light outside. We soon see why, the moon is huge with a big glow.

We walk around the grounds listening to the nocturnal sounds around us. The full moon is like a giant torch, lighting our path wherever we walk.

I think we are both very tired, we decide to go to our bedroom.

"The tent".

The night is different, there's something interesting about being in a tent with Maria.

Her hands start to stroke my body, I'm doing the same to her. My hand clasps her solid breast, she strokes my cock. Erection is soon established and she's guiding me inside her.

The love making is very intense and very long.

Last night was fantastic love making for both of us. I think the excitement of the tent turned us both into animals.

It was certainly my first time to make love in a tent,

I think so anyway?.

We've decided to stay for one more night, we will cross the border tomorrow.

We start to walk down the drive of the hotel towards the road. We want a taxi to the centre, if we get picked up in the hotel they will charge more.

The drive is full of large trees shading us from the sun. There's green vegetation on both sides, it seems to be thriving without sunlight.

We get out onto the road, there's plenty of taxis. Jumping into one, we are soon being taken to the centre.

First thing is some breakfast.

Maria says,

"I will take you to Pie City".

We arrive at a shop, above the door the sign reads,

"PIE CITY".

We enter; I just see shelves of freshly baked pies. This is something I didn't expect.

The fillings consist of steak, peppered steak, steak and kidney, steak and onion, steak and vegetable, chicken, chicken and vegetable. If that's not enough, there are all sorts of fruit pies.

We place our order, both of us go for steak.

Sitting outside we remove the pies from the paper bag, they are so hot, just out of the oven.

The first bite burns the mouth, they smell too good to wait for them to cool down. The filling is solid chunks of steak, fantastic.

We spend the day wandering around the town. There seems to be a lot of building work happening. I think this place will grow quickly into a modern town.

Maria goes into the supermarket to get some food for tonight, we don't want the expense of the hotel food.

Well she's inside doing the shopping I sit outside. I watch the people walking by going about their business. School children coming from school, doing and looking no different than the children in England.

Not quite the same.

There's a young girl, maybe fourteen walking past. Her school uniform is a grey skirt and blue blouse, minus the tie. The front of the blouse is undone, not one button is secured. She isn't wearing a bra, her whole torso is naked. She walks slowly, a slight breeze blowing her shirt towards her back. Her breast bounce up and down.

For her and the people around it's no problem.

Maria comes out of the supermarket, I explain to her what I had seen, she just laughs.

Back at the hotel we shower, then sit on the grass eating our food. Once the darkness comes we spend the evening in the bar.

The night is another highly charged one, the tent is smoking. The sex is wild and for me tough. Maria is a strong girl who likes to fuck.

~~~~~

Chapter 3

City of Kings

We arrive at the border, within no time our passports are stamped, we are in Zimbabwe.

The only thing I know about this place, is the power struggle. Ian Smith, Rhodesia, that's it.

A short walk to the perimeter gate and we find mini taxis that will take us to a place called Plumtree, then on to Bulawayo.

There's a lot of traffic crossing here, mostly whites. I tell Maria to wait before we board a taxi, I will check out some of the drivers.

I approach two cars, I ask the drivers if they are going to Bulawayo?.

They both reply;

"no".

I approach another man, asking him the same question. This time it's a,

"yes".

He will take us, but on route he needs to pick up his son from school.

He's got a Land Rover, it's completely open, the back and the cab having no roof.

We jump up into the back and drive out of the compound of the border post. The roads are good, the bush is beautiful compared to what I've seen in Botswana.

The man tells us he's a farmer, looking at his well weathered skin I can see that. He was born here in Zimbabwe.

We pass through Plumtree, it's a small town. Soon we turn off the road and drive up a sand track through the bush. We come to an entrance, the sign above reads;

"Plumtree Catholic Mission School".

I must remember this name, it will be useful later.

We park outside the main school buildings, the man goes inside. After a few minutes he comes out with a child. The child looks nine years of age, and he's coloured.

This man must be married to a black woman.

Soon we are back out on the tar road. The young boy is sitting in the back with us, he's a very polite little boy, also very bright.

The countryside is beautiful, fantastic scenery. With the wind in our faces the blue sky above, this is Africa.

I'm not sure how long we've been driving, but the sun is going down fast.

I say to the farmer,

"how far to Bulawayo?".

He replies;

"we are very close, fifteen minutes and we will be there".

I don't like arriving in places I don't know in the dark.

I notice the bush is giving way to buildings, we are on the edge of the city.

The man asks where we want to be dropped off?

"Can you drop us in the very centre?"

I reply.

A short time lapse and we are jumping from the back of the farmers Land Rover. We thank him very much for the lift, waving to the young boy until the car is out of sight.

I look at Maria, I say,

"welcome to the City of Kings",

I then give her a big hug.

It's dark now so we will find a small hotel in the centre for tonight. Tomorrow I want to find the camp-site. I've read that it's very good and it's a secure place, but not safe to walk there at night.

We had a good nights sleep, even Maria didn't have the strength to make love.

The receptionist gives us directions to the camp-site and we take our leave.

The city is quite busy, it's modern and well organised. The roads are very wide. There's good pavements, they are lined with trees that have beautiful coloured blossom.

I notice the people are so fucking black, the colour of charcoal. In Botswana they seem to be much lighter.

We soon find the path to the camp-site, it's going through what looks like a park. After about another ten minutes walking we reach the entrance.

We enter and are shown where we can pitch the tent. It's a small grassed area with trees. The toilet-shower block is one hundred metres away.

With the tent erected we head back to the centre. It's a short walk, less than fifteen minutes.

We wander along the pavement shaded from the hot sun by the trees.

Most of the buildings are modern, there are a few old colonial buildings around. The museum and art gallery is one good example, I think it's been renovated. There's a restaurant on one corner called Cape to Cairo, it's a nice building.

I want to get my hair cut, I'm not sure that the barbers here can use scissors.

I notice a sign, it reads;

"Hairstylists Caucasian and African".

I enter what looks a modern hairdressers, it looks clean and tidy, but no other customers. I'm approached by a black man, he says,

"can I help you sir?"

I reply;

"yes, I would like my haircut, can you use scissors?"

He replies;

"Yes I can sir, no problem".

I sit in the chair, the barber trusses me up in a gown, all very professional. I watch him in the mirror, he picks up the comb and scissors. Slowly he starts to snip away. He cuts a piece on the left side, then a piece on the right side, then a chunk from the top. Now he's fucking around at the back. The more I watch him, the more I realise he has no fucking idea how to use these scissors.

My hair is now looking like a badly cut lawn.

I shout to him,

"stop".

I say to him;

"you don't know how to use scissors, do you?"

He replies;

"no, but I can do it with the machine".

I ask;

"why do you say on your sign you can cut white persons hair, when you cannot?"

There's lots of apologies from the man. I look in the mirror, it still doesn't solve the fucking mess he's made of my hair. With no other option I tell him to use the machine. Armed with a number two comb he ploughs my head.

I leave the shop with a lot less hair than I had intend, but at least it looks reasonable.

Maria is still laughing, she thinks it's very funny,

bitch.

We are both starting to feel a little hungry so we look for some food. I notice on the other side of the road, Pie City, that will do nicely.

Walking along eating our pies we notice a child, he's about five metres in front of us.

We can also hear some music, it's coming from a shop.

We watch the young boy start to dance as he passes the shop doorway. He's still dancing until the music is quite in his ear, then he walks normally again.

We are on our way back to the camp-site, stocked with food we've just purchased in the supermarket. The park looks interesting, we will have to go and take a look sometime.

Back at the camp-site we go for a stroll before we take a shower.

We walk through another entrance gate within the perimeter, this is where the people with vehicles camp. The ground is sand, very little grass. The area is big with a few more shower and toilet blocks. Most of the site is shaded from the sun with trees.

I see in the far corner one of these overland trucks.

All around the camp-site are braais which are built of stone. We've been told there's free timber at the back of the office block.

We go to the back of the office, true to their word there's a massive pile of logs of all sizes. A little bit of labouring and we have our stock of wood for tonight.

Maria goes off to bathe, I sit and admire our garden retreat.

I watch the different types of birds going about their business, the colours very bright on some of the plumage.

There's no other tents in this part of the site, but there is a caravan with a man and a woman.

Maria returns from her shower, she goes into the tent. After a few minutes she shouts;

"Seb, can you come and help me please?".

I reply;

"yes, I'm coming".

I enter the tent to see Maria on her back, her legs open. Before I have chance to utter a word she grabs me, pulling me down onto her. She starts to remove my clothes, I'm soon inside her.

The love making was short but very intense.

Before I go for my shower we light the braai, some of the timber is very dry so we soon have a good fire.

Returning from the shower block I find Maria hard at work. We have some good sized steaks cooking away, Maria's prepared a good salad with her own dressing. Everything is looking good.

The sun is gone we have darkness, just the perimeter lighting and the light from the fire.

We sit on the grass with our meal of steak, salad, crusty bread, accompanied by a good South African Red.

With the light of the fire and the hot evening air, this is romance at its best.

Food finished, we sit in front of the fire talking. We watch the flames changing colour, from red, to orange, to yellow. When the last embers are almost extinguished, we throw water on to make it safe.

It's time for bed, tomorrow we've decided to hire bicycles from here in the camp-site.

I wonder what is in store for me tonight in the tent?.

Showered and with breakfast finished we are cycling out of the city to a game reserve called Tshabalala Game Sanctuary.

The reserve sounds interesting, there are giraffe, zebra, warthog, buffalo, gazelle and many other types of animals.

Because the animals are reasonably safe, you can walk or cycle the many tracks that are in the reserve, you don't need to be in a car.

We had been cycling for a few hours when we finally reach the entrance to the reserve.

The prices are expensive if you are a tourist, if you are a resident or a Zimbabwean it's cheap.

I go to purchase tickets. I tell the man I have temporary residency but I have forgotten my passport.

He asks;

"where are you working?".

I reply;

"Plumtree Catholic Mission School".

Tickets and money exchanged we enter into the reserve,

I thought that name would come in useful one day.

We start to cycle around one of the tracks, in places the sand is very deep making cycling too difficult. We both decide walking is easier.

The first thing we see is a warthog, ugly bastard. Then we get sight of some kind of gazelle. The thing I notice is that these animals are wild, no sooner do they get sight of you they are gone. I thought seeing people on foot they would not run away.

Up ahead a group of mongoose or meerkat, I'm no expert, march in single file across the track and back into the bush.

We walked the tracks for what seemed hours and probably was. We got sightings of zebra, giraffe, buffalo. We go to a waterhole, there they have built a thatched hut for viewing. I decide to hide in some bushes by the side of the water and wait. Soon a warthog approaches with caution, it doesn't get my scent or see me. Finally it's about three metres away, but it darts off when it hears my camera shutter click.

We both agreed that the reserve was nice, not busy, in fact we didn't see anyone else there.

The ride back was nice, the road was quiet and we had a breeze helping to keep us cool.

The evening was like last night, except we had a visitor earlier. His name was George, he's a guide for a tour company. Tomorrow he's taking two English girls to Matobo Hills National Park. After a discussion with Maria we have decided to go with them, four in a group is good.

It's an earlier start, George is here to pick us up, the time is seven thirty by Maria's watch.

We drive off to the guest house where the other two girls are staying. Soon we are complete and making the drive to Matobo Hills National Park.

We've been driving for about thirty minutes and we've reached the park entrance. It's not far from the city.

We spend quite a few hours driving around seeing many animals but not the leopard. Not for the want of trying, George circled and circled the park trying to find us the leopard.

Sat in the back of an open truck in the African bush is wonderful. The vegetation, the superb balancing rocks sat defying gravity, just wonderful.

We go to some caves which have very good rock paintings, George tells us they are two thousand years old.

The final stopping place is the top of a large rock formation. From this point we have terrific views out across the park.

George guides us to a big brass plaque, he tells us this is the grave of Cecil Rhodes, one of the founders of Bulawayo. The place is named World's View, it's stunning.

We hear a noise behind us, we turn to see a very old man. It looks like he's wearing a military uniform. He's sat down tapping on the rock and calling out.

We walk over, at closer inspection you can see his clothes aren't military.

We watch with intrigue, he keeps tapping the rock and calling. Then something happens. One lone lizard comes from a crevice in the rock, then another and another. The man throws bread which they seem to enjoy. I think at one point there must be one hundred lizards around this man. After ten minutes they dissolve back into the crevices of the rocks and all is quiet again.

We get some good photos of this man, which he seems all too happy to pose for. His shirt is a mass of badges from all over the world, given by tourists.

The tour of this wonderful area is finished. The sun is starting to set so we head back to the city.

This evening we have no food so we are going into town by taxi, it's a restaurant and a few bars tonight.

We spend a few more days exploring the park, it's so English in layout. We also had more nights around the camp fire eating good food prepared by Maria. There were good nights inside the tent also.

I think I've fallen in love with Bulawayo, a beautiful place.

~~~~~

Chapter 4

Monkeys and Baboons

Masvingo, I know nothing about the place but I like the name. Well that's where this bus is going to taking us.

We are both sat waiting for the bus to leave Bulawayo bus station. The place is a hive of activity. There are hawkers selling just about everything you can imagine.

There's boys fighting over passengers. They take the persons luggage, leading them to the bus of their choice not the passengers. Sometimes they argue over who got the passenger first, then start fighting.

I watch one young girl, the boys are holding her bag, she is refusing to go with them. She attempts to free her bag from their grip but she's not strong enough. They start to pull her and the bag towards a bus, she's still resisting. She falls onto her front, still hanging onto her bag she's dragged along, her legs are crazed. Poor girl.

The driver jumps into his cab and the engine turns, we are moving.

Our plan is to get to a town called Masvingo, there's a camp-site there. We will stay two nights, then go to a monument called Great Zimbabwe.

The journey is well under way, the bush is beautiful. This country is a very clean and tidy place. The roads are good, the people are friendly.

We are sat at the back of the bus, we are joined by a young girl who is sitting at the front.

She introduces herself,

"hi my name is Chipo".

I reply,

"nice to meet you Chipo, my name is Seb and this is my girlfriend Maria".

We tell her we come from England.

She tells us she is seventeen years old and still schooling. She's from Bulawayo. She's travelling with her mother to visit relatives.

We answer a few more of her questions and exchange addresses, then she returns to her seat.

The journey moves long at a good pace, we are soon approaching the outskirts of Masvingo. The driver starts to drop people off, we will wait until we get to the bus terminal.

A few more stops, we finally enter the centre. The bus comes to a halt and everyone starts to get off, but it's not a terminal.

I look at Maria, she in turn looks at me, we both shrug our shoulders at the same time.

I say to her,

"shall we get off?"

Her reply is,

"I'm not sure".

Just at this time we hear a little voice.

"This is where you get off".

Looking around I see Chipo. I thank her and tell her we will contact her next time we are in Bulawayo.

First thing is to get a drink, we see just the place. A small bar with a few seats outside under the shade of a mango tree.

Drinks ordered, we asked the girl serving us where the camp-site is? She points and gives us some directions, about ten minutes walking. We also ask her about transport to Great Zimbabwe? She tells us of a mini taxi plying the route.

She says,

"you can board over there",

pointing across the road at some parked taxis.

Drinks finished we take our leave, thanking the girl for her help.

Walking along we find a supermarket, I stay outside looking after the bags, Maria goes in and gets some food for tonight.

Maria emerges after about ten minutes with two carrier bags.

She says,

"I've bought some steak for tonight".

I say to her;

"maybe there's no braai Maria?"

With plenty of confidence, she assures me there will be.

We seem to have walked more than ten minutes. Finally we are at the entrance to the camp-site.

It's like one big green field with a few trees. Over to one side is the toilet-shower block, or what looks like.

We are the only people here, maybe more will arrive later.

A man comes out to greet us, he's looking after the site. He tells us to erect our tent first, then we can sort out the money.

I ask him,

"where can we pitch the tent?"

He replies;

"anywhere you want".

We pick a spot under a big tree, it's only one hundred metres from the toilet-shower block and will give us shade.

I'm not sure if Maria's noticed it yet, but there's a braai, maybe there's no wood.

The tent is erected, I look at Maria, she's laughing.

"Why are you laughing darling?"

I ask her.

She replies;

"nothing sweetheart".

I think it may have something to do with the braai,

bitch.

The man comes across and takes our details, and our money.

"Two nights please",

I say to him.

Maria laughs even more when he tells us where the wood pile is.

We've managed to get our wood supply for the evening sorted. The braai is burning ready for Maria to perform her culinary delights.

Both showered, we settle down for another romantic evening by the fire.

The sun sets and darkness falls, I notice we have no lighting. The only lights visible are small lamps above the entrance to the toilet-shower block. Where the tent is pitched we only have the light of the fire, how romantic.

Food finished we sit in front of our big fire. Looking around the place it's pitch black, just a glow from the toilet-shower lights.

I tell Maria when the wood runs out I'm going into the tent, it's too dark to fetch more.

This place is quite rural, even though the town is near. I think there could be snakes here.

The fire finally fades away, we both get into our little house. I'm not sure what it is about this tent, but it certainly gets Maria horny. We make love for what seems hours.

I'm woken by the noise of a car. Everything is still in darkness, I estimate the time at about four am.

Why would someone be coming to the camp-site at this hour?

I start to think about robbery, murder of two British tourist, like you see in the newspapers.

Should I put my head out of the tent?

No, stay inside I'm being told, not by Maria, she is sleeping, oblivious to anything happening around her.

One hour or more passes, nothing from outside, no voices, nothing.

Finally the tent is beginning to light up with the sunrise outside. Now I can go and see what is going on.

I unzip the door letting in more light and the fresh morning air.

Looking down to the main gate it's open, I don't think it gets shut at night, security is minimal.

I put my head outside the tent, stretching and twisting my neck in the direction of the rest of the camp-site. I see one bakkie parked, no tent, nothing.

Well now we have daylight so I feel a bit happier.

Maria opens her eyes to the bright light entering the tent. I tell her I'm going for a shower.

I walk across the grass reaching the concrete path that runs down the side of the toilet-shower block.

Walking along the path looking at the floor, I notice a small dead frog. I was just about to stand on it, but my last minute reactions diverted my foot to one side.

Looking closer I notice a small snake the colour of the path, invisible to me until now. Part of the frog's body is in the snake's mouth. Due to my arrival the snake is pulling it's jaws off the body of the frog.

I take a step back.

This little snake releases it's grip on the frog and pays more attention to me. It lifts itself into a striking position, the back of its neck forms a hood like a cobra.

Maybe it's a baby cobra, but something is telling me different. Perhaps it just fakes this for protection.

Slowly it lowers itself when it feels the threat is gone. It slides along the path with me in pursuit. Every time I get too close it stops and goes into its attack position.

I wonder if it is a cobra. I'm not going to get too close, it maybe poisonous.

I watch it disappear into the grass, it's gone.

Shower finished I go back and join Maria. She's busy making us some breakfast.

I tell her of my little encounter with the snake.

She says,

"why did you tell me that, now I will be too frighten to sleep tonight".

I tell her not to be silly, they are more frightened of us.

Looking across I see the car is gone. Maria tells me a man drove off about five minutes ago.

We spend the rest of the day in the town and have another nice evening in front of the camp fire.

Today we are heading for Great Zimbabwe. I don't really know much about this place. It's a city built of rocks, well three cities I'm reading in this tourist handout.

The trip is short and we are soon looking at the entrance rates for the park. Again it's quite expensive for the non resident, same procedure I think.

Plumtree Catholic Mission School.

It worked a treat, they don't ask any questions.

We walk along a track which seems to have a bit of an incline, the sun is quite hot, so no easy walk.

Finally we reach what is the hotel.

First thing I notice is a wooden carving of a large erect penis. It stands upright like a pole. Protruding from it are wooden arrows pointing in different directions. Carved into each arrow is a place name like Jo'burg, Harare, Gabarone, with the distances.

I suppose it's a bit like the sign at Lands End. I don't think people would be happy if it was a giant cock though.

We are pointed in the direction of the camp-site, a few minutes walking we are there.

There's already someone there,

"hi Maria",

a voice shouts out.

Fucking hell it's one of these obnoxious no-alls that came across with Maria. A quick chat and I manage to make the excuse that we need to get the tent up.

I tell Maria to keep everything in the bag, leave nothing small on the table.

She inquires,

"why?"

"look above you in the trees",

I reply.

She looks up and gives a big smile, she says,

"monkeys how sweet".

I say,

"you may think they are sweet, but the little bastards will be down and back up the tree before you can turn around".

She asks,

"what's wrong with that?"

"Back up in the tree they will be holding your camera or purse, that's what's wrong with that, they will steal,

I say to her.

I'd seen this happen to a few people during my travels.

Tent erected we take all our belongings inside. I tell Maria to be very careful about what she leaves lying around.

We are joined by Maria's two work colleagues, the no-alls, Justin and Izzy. They tell us to be careful not to leave anything out.

"There are monkeys about, they took our camera yesterday",

Izzy says.

I mutter under my breath,

"stupid twats".

They do give us one good bit of news, they're leaving today.

Thank fuck for that.

I wouldn't have been happy having to spending the night with them.

We both notice that there are no braais, evenings in the hotel bar I suppose.

The day is still young so we go to visit the first complex, this one is called the Great Enclosure. The walls are impressive, it's a dry stone construction, no bonding materials. I'm sure some of this must have been renovated, it all looks too perfect.

From here we head up onto the Hill Complex. On route we see the Valley Complex.

We get to the entrance of the Hill Complex, the stones are huge. We enter through a small doorway into the complex. I find this one more interesting than the Great Enclosure. Rocks have been placed in between the permanent rock structures of the hill to form walls.

The views looking down are terrific. In the distance is a village.

I hear loud noises, sounds like animals fighting. I'm unable to see what is making the commotion, the bush is hiding what ever it is. Finally I get sight of a group of baboons, must be twenty or more.

The sun is starting to set, we decide that it's time to get back to the camp-site. We don't want to walk during darkness.

The night is spent in the bar, it's not the cheapest but our options are limited.

This morning I'm walking to the Hill Complex, it's only five o'clock. I want to catch some of the sunrise. I've left Maria sleeping.

I reach the entrance, ducking my head I walk through. Once inside I straighten my body.

Shock takes hold of me, in front of me are baboons, three of them. They are only five metres away. They stare; one is a very big male with very large teeth.

I've no idea what I should do.

Perhaps slowly bend myself back through the entrance? make a loud noise? chase them?

They've made the decision for me. They make some loud screeching noises, running in different directions. They've gone.

The sun is a little too high in the sky now. I think I would need to start out early, but we don't have the time. Tomorrow we will be leaving.

My sunrise photos will not be in the album.

I start to walk around the enclosure, it's very quite, very peaceful.

I see some movement in the grass, looking closer I see a snake. It's small maybe seven or eight inches long, black in colour.

I move the grass, it just keeps trying to get away. I don't think it's poisonous, it never seems to get into an attack position. I decide not to try to pick it up, just in case.

I notice on top of a rock a creature, it resembles a large rat. It's eyes follow me. It's a strange thing, not its physical appearance, just the way it's sat there staring.

I've walked around longer than I'd expected, I think I better go and check on Maria.

I make my way out of the entrance and start the walk back to the camp-site. I've no idea of the time.

When I get back to the tent Maria is just stirring. I get inside and we start to touch and kiss each other. Clothes removed we make some good early morning love.

The rest of the day is spent walking and enjoying the bush.

I did notice in the tourist handout a photo of that rat type creature, it's called a dassie .

The night is in the bar again but not a late night. Tomorrow we want to get back to Bulawayo.

There's an overnight train to Victoria Falls, if we can get a ticket we will be on that train.

~~~~~

Chapter 5

Victoria Falls

We've managed to get tickets on the overnight train to Vic Falls. Now we just need to hang around for the rest of the afternoon here in Bulawayo.

We got an early start this morning from Great Zimbabwe to Masvingo. Luck was on our side, there was a bus to Bulawayo ready to leave, so we didn't have long to wait.

The evening was soon upon us and we made our way to the railway station.

On the platform we ask a guard which is the train to Victoria Falls? He points to a train on the other platform. Making our way across we are soon in our compartment.

The compartment is two birth, the interior is wood panel and there's a wash basin in the corner. It looks so Victorian, very quaint.

I take a closer look at the wash basin. The taps are mounted on an ornate brass plate with the makers name on it, made in Birmingham.

Soon we hear the whistle blowing, there's a jerk and the train pulls out of the station.

During the night Maria and myself get into some good sex positions, certainly a first for me on a moving train. There was some sleep, but I think making love occupied most of the journey.

Morning arrives, and so does the train into Vic Falls station.

In town we sit in a small café and take breakfast. Looking around this place it's certainly geared up for tourism.

Breakfast finished we walk to the camp-site. When we arrive we find the place packed. Tents are everywhere, and big overland trucks are parked up. Different to the other camp-sites we've used.

Tent pitched we start the walk to the falls. The closer we get, the louder the sound of rushing water.

We reach the entrance gate. Looking at the board, admission is again very expensive.

Will Plan A work again?

I go to the desk,

"good day sir",

"good day",

is the reply back.

I explain to the man that I'm teaching here in Zimbabwe. I tell him I have a residence permit but have forgotten my passport.

He says,

"where are you teaching?"

My reply is,

"Plumtree Catholic Mission School".

Without any more questions he hands me two tickets and takes the money.

We walk through a forested area, inside we get glimpses of some kind of antelope. They quickly disappear into the undergrowth. This I find strange, they must see so many tourists, I thought it would be normal for them not to be spooked.

The noise of the water is booming, I really am starting to get a buzz about seeing this.

We walk out of the forest and get our first sighting of Vic Falls. It's very impressive. The size, the amount of water, nature is better than any god.

The spray from the water is creating rainbows in several places.

We walk along, we get sight of the bridge crossing this great gorge. The other side being Zambia. It takes a train I think, not just cars and foot passengers.

We stop and watch somebody jump off the bridge on a bungy rope. They plunge head first towards the Zambezi below.

There are certain areas where the spray from the falls is dropping out of the sky like rain. We're getting wet, now I understand why they are selling raincoats at the entrance.

Looking back down the gorge, the water pouring over the edge makes for some great photographs.

Getting back to the entrance gate we make our exit.

We start walking along the road. I notice a giant of a tree, it's called a baobab. Camera aimed, I shoot.

Problem with photos, you never know the results until they're developed.

We notice a track leading off the road. I ask Maria if it could be a short cut back to the town. If it is we would be walking in the shade, not the hot sun. She's not sure and prefers to keep to the road.

There's a ranger with a gun on his back, he walks into the track.

I shout to him,

"excuse me; can we get back to the town this way?"

He replies,

"yes follow me".

We walk along what seems to be a river bank. The noise of the falls disappearing into the background behind us.

I notice piles of dung, the shape and size of wooden logs, our guide tells us it's elephant.

He also tells us to keep away from the edge of the water.

"There are crocodiles here",

he says.

In some places it's very difficult not to get near the water, at least our guide is carrying a gun.

I've also noticed a few small motor boats moored along the riverbank here.

Soon we come out of the forest into the bright hot sunshine.

Our guide points us in the direction we need, and he goes on his way.

Another ten minutes walking, we find ourselves back in the town. Two minutes more and we're sat drinking ice cold beer.

Looking up at the sky I see a small microlight flying across the falls. I'd been up in one of these things a few years ago. It must be a great feeling to fly over the falls in one.

Back at the camp-site we get ourselves showered and changed. Tonight we will eat and drink in the town.

Today the sun is burning, it's very hot.

We're walking to the bridge, see if we can get some good photographs. We can also watch the crazy people doing their bungy jumping.

Finally we reach the bridge, it's a beautiful bit of architecture. I'm not sure how old it is.

From here we have a good view of the falls.

I've since found out that we are in the rainy season here, so there's a lot of water. In the dry season the falls look very different I've been told.

Looking down into the river, I spot two hippos enjoying their swim. It's a long way down, a big drop.

We watch two people strapped together take the plunge, it brings back memories of my jump.

Do I want to do it again?

"NO".

The rest of the day we wander around the area. The big problem is the heat, it makes you feel very tired and lifeless.

We stay in Vic Falls for one more day before heading back to Bulawayo on the train.

Back at the camp-site in Bulawayo we have the same pitch for our tent.

In town we eat lunch from Pie City, they're so bloody good these pies.

Supermarket finished we head back to the camp-site with our steaks for tonight.

Night soon arrives, we start the braai with a good supply of wood we fetched earlier.

Maria's got everything under control. We are soon sat down eating steak, beans, jacket potato and the South African Red.

We sit talking the rest of the evening in front of the flames. We both agree that what we've seen of Zimbabwe, we both like.

The peace is broken by the arrival of a big four wheel drive. The people, two men and one woman sound like they are drunk.

They are well organised, they soon have a huge tent erected and seats set out around their braai, which is already burning well.

They're very noisy, definitely too much drink. They are white, I think maybe South African.

I need to go to the toilet which means passing them. They greet me, I greet them back.

On the way back from the toilet, the one man calls me over. He asks me to join them for a drink. I tell him I will go and ask my girlfriend.

Maria is quite happy to join them, we sit and drink cold beers from a cooler.

They are all from Zimbabwe and were born here. The one man who is called David and his wife Kelly are now living in South Africa, but working in Francistown for the last couple of years. Their friend is called Billy, he's still living here in Zimbabwe.

David was in the Rhodesian Army under the Smith regime during apartheid.

He tells me he was a member of the Selous Scouts. I think I remember reading about this regiment, they where special forces, good bush fighters.

I notice he has lost one eye, was that combat?

"no".

He tells me he was repairing a machine and the screwdriver hit him in the eye.

He repairs and maintains looms. The factory he's working at in Francistown makes blankets.

My response is,

"I thought the use of blankets would be minimal here David".

He replies;

"blankets are a big industry here, not like earlier days, but still big".

He told me before Francistown he was in a factory in Malawi.

We tell them that we need some sleep because we are going to Francistown tomorrow. We bid them farewell, thanking them for the hospitality.

David gives us his address and phone number, he tells us to visit when we are in Francistown. They should be back in two weeks.

We started early this morning, we are already in a mini taxi on the way to the border. The sun is already high in the sky and feeling very warm, the time? not eight o'clock yet.

The taxi reaches the perimeter fence and comes to a halt. Everyone gets out, some waiting for their luggage to be removed from the roof.

Maria leads me to the desk where quickly and efficiently our passports are stamped.

A short walk and we board a taxi to Francistown. On route we stop at the Botswana immigration post and collect my entry stamp. Maria doesn't need, she's got temporary residency.

We arrive in Francistown, first stop is Pie City, next a bar for a beer.

Lunch finished we get the taxi to the hotel camp-site. It will be just for one night, tomorrow we get the train to Gaborone.

The train runs from Francistown to Gaborone, making stops along the way. I ask Maria about her school, it's not in the town, it's in the bush. She tells me that you just tell the guard and they will stop for you.

We reach the hotel camp-site, no other tents or vehicles, just us.

The tent is erected and we both grab shower. We will spend the rest of the day and evening in the bar I think.

~~~~~

Chapter 6

Train Plane Bakkie

The day starts with a good breakfast, then we get on the train. The train makes slow progress out of the centre. When it's finally in the bush we seem to be following the road, it's about fifty metres away.

The trip is very boring, the scenery is the same. We spend most of the time planning another excursion.

The guard comes to us, he tells us this is our stop. We follow him to the door and wait for the train to come to a halt.

Finally the train comes to a stop, the guard opens the door and we climb down. It's surprising how far down it is without a platform.

We watch the train pull away; crossing the track we walk through the bush towards the road. Crossing the road we walk back into the bush towards the school.

The light is starting to disappear; we walk with a bit more intention. In the dark you could step on a snake.

Soon we are in Maria's bungalow, both of us falling onto the sofa.

Maria finds mail waiting for her in the kitchen. Returning to the sofa, she tells me they are moving her to a new school. She will find out more tomorrow.

I'm sat in the garden again watching the weaver birds going in and out of their nests. The way they hang on a thread, I would have thought the weight of the bird inside would bring it down.

Maria went to find out more about the move.

The school is very quite, the children have gone home for their holidays, there's just a few staff remaining.

I'm sat in deep thought when something grabs my neck, there's a loud noise. Fuck it makes me jump.

Turning around I see Maria with a big grin on her face.

Bitch.

She brings out another chair, sat opposite me she tells me what is happening.

She will pack her belongings into cardboard boxes, which will be dropped off later today. Once she has finished a lorry will come and collect the boxes, taking them to her new posting.

The new posting is back towards Francistown. Before you reach there you turn off into the bush, heading into some hills.

Maria returns indoors, she's going to start preparing to pack her belongings. She doesn't want my help, so I wander down through the bush to the road. Here I spend a few hours in a small bar.

When I get back to the bungalow, I find that the cardboard boxes have arrived and Maria is busy filling them.

I decide to keep out of the way, I end up falling asleep in the shade of a tree in the garden.

Evening is upon us, we sit at the table enjoying some of Maria's good cooking.

We talk about getting off somewhere tomorrow, we both want to do something.

The suggestion on the train was to go to a place called Maun. It's a town where you go to pick up your trips into the Okavango Delta.

We both agree that tomorrow we will go there. It will mean an early start, so I say to Maria,

"lets go to bed".

With a sexy look in those lovely eyes, she beckons me to the bedroom. Sleep was not on my mind or Maria's.

The morning sun is already scorching hot and it's only six o'clock.

Taking our track through the bush to the road for what should be the last time, we come across a snake. It's coiled up with the head resting on the top. None of us are experts, but looking at it I think it's a puff adder. I think it's enjoying the sunshine.

We decide not to disturb it, taking a small detour around the creature.

We reach the tarmac, within a few minutes we jump into a bakkie to Francistown.

We are quite full, all of the other passengers being from Botswana, or at least Africa.

There's still quite a thrill travelling along in the back of these trucks. The sun blazing down on you, the wind in your face, the African languages being spoken by the other passengers. It makes for a good feeling.

We arrive in Francistown. If we can get a bus to Maun straight away, we can be there this evening before dark. The roads are good and the buses move along quite fast.

Well we are very lucky today. We've just walked into the bus station and a bus to Maun is ready to leave. We get our seats and we are moving.

After a few hours the bush is changing, we are starting to pass a lot of small lakes. We are told by a fellow passenger that these are salt pans, not lakes.

I have to admit the bush this way is still flat, but much more interesting.

I just noticed Maria's head on my shoulder, she's sleeping.

That's the long hot night of sex we had I suppose.

The journey carries on, the driver pushing the bus at a good pace. The sky is getting dark as the sun gets lower in the sky. I think we will be pitching the tent in the dark tonight.

I'm not sure how many hours we've been travelling but we finally arrive. We leave the bus and start to walk to the lodge where we will camp.

The sky is now dark so we will be putting the tent up under torchlight. This is never a good idea, you can't see what's on the ground. Maybe ants, they will eat through the bottom of the tent, we experienced this in Masvingo.

We arrive at the lodge and have the tent pitched quickly. The rest of the evening we sit in a nearby bar drinking a few beers. After such a long trip they taste good.

I wake up to a lot of noise, looking at Maria's watch the time is seven o'clock, still fucking early.

I unzip the tent and poke my head out. Fucking hell this place is busy, lots of white faces. I zip the tent back up and put my arms around my sleeping beauty. She's still in a deep sleep.

I start to move my hand onto her breast, then I slide my hand down over her stomach resting it between her legs. My fingers enter her, she's wet.

She starts to move, turning to face me she puts her hand on my cock. Slowly she strokes back and forth, the thing stands to attention, ready for action.

She spreads her legs and pulls me on top of her. Her hand guides my hard cock into those moist lips. I push further and further inside, watching the look on her face.

It didn't last long, but it was very nice.

Showered we head into town, finding a restaurant we sit and eat breakfast. What we've seen of the town so far is pretty nondescript.

Over breakfast we discuss what we want to do for the few days we are here. One idea is to go into the Okavango in a canoe, this is a little expensive and we don't have the time.

Breakfast finished we start to walk around the place. It's a small town so easy to traverse.

On the pavement I spot a board, it's advertising flights over the delta. That would be a quick and easy way to see the Okavango.

We go inside and enquire about the flights. The gentleman inside tells us you have to hire the whole plane, that's a maximum of four people. The two of us could hire but our ticket would be double.

I ask him about booking an appointment, he tells us it's not necessary, just turn up on the day.

Well, with the info he's provided us with, we just need two more people. We both agree, if we fail to find the other people we will still go and pay the extra.

We've had a good day, now we are back at the camp-site. Before we shower we watch the last rays of the sun disappear in the sky.

During the evening we start talking to man and a woman from England. We mention about the flight, they tells they would like to join us. That's settled, tomorrow it is.

We are at the office early, we are in luck there's a plane and a pilot available. He does his pre-flight checks and we are soon getting into the little four seater Cessna.

The pilot tells us he's from South Africa. Looking at his tanned skin and blond hair, he does have that Afrikaner look.

The first thing I noticed is his age, he looks about eighteen.

Is he fucking old enough to fly, does he have a licence?

Maybe he just looks young for his age.

The prop starts turning and we move out onto a runway. Revs increase and we start moving along, we pick up speed until finally we leave the ground.

It's not long before we see our first animals. A herd of elephant, totalling twenty with young. They are wading through the water with ease.

The pilot takes us very low, banking the plane to the left then the right. He does throw this machine around with ease.

After circling a few times we leave the elephants in peace.

We fly low enough to see crocodile in the water, hippo as well.

We see people in canoes, fishing perhaps. They work alongside the animals with no reason to be afraid.

If I was in a small wooden dugout with a large elephant heading towards me, I would feel a little afraid.

The animals run with fright when the pilot passes overhead. I think he's flying so low he spooks them.

I've noticed when we fly over you can see some kind of downdraught on the water and grasses.

We carrying on being entertained by our young pilot, throwing the plane from one position to another.

More animals are spotted, including giraffe, zebra, wildebeest, rhino and many types of antelope.

Finally our pilot announces the end of our flight over the Okavango Delta and we head back to the airstrip.

On the way back we all agree it was money well spent.

Back on land we waste the rest of the day exploring this town and its outskirts.

We spent one more day in Maun before leaving for Francistown. The flight over the Okavango was very special. I think this place will look very different in ten years time.

Today we have completed the long journey back to Francistown.

Back at the hotel we have pitched our tent. Showered we head for the bar, we both need a drink and something to eat. We sleep earlier, we are both tired.

Today we are going to visit David and his wife. I phoned him yesterday, he gave me directions to get to his place.

Walking out to the main road we stop a taxi, giving him the information David gave us, we are soon on our way.

We arrive outside a large gate, complete with barbed wire. The taxi man assures us this is the place. We pay the driver and he speeds off.

Looking around this is a nice suburb. All the buildings are surrounded with high walls that is topped with barbed wire.

We knock on the door, it opens. We are greeted by a security guard, giving him David's details he invites us in. Once inside the walled area we see a very modern block of dwellings. The grounds are very neat and tidy, colourful flowers and trees giving nice shade.

The guard takes us to David's door, he knocks. After a short pause the door opens, there to greet us is David's wife Kelly.

She invites us in to what is a very nice house. We follow her into the lounge where we take a seat.

There are big patio doors that are open, letting a nice breeze blow into the room. Looking out through the doors, I see a beautifully laid garden with swimming pool.

Kelly returns from the kitchen with some cold beers. She tells us that David went into work but he will be back soon.

A short time passes and we hear the front door, it's David.

We sit and chat, drink beer and eat food.

David says,

"would you like a swim?".

Unfortunately we didn't bring our swimwear with us, so we have to decline the offer.

Sat around the pool we are joined by more people, they also live in the complex. There's six houses in total.

Everyone living here is from South African, except for one man who is here from Germany. He's commissioning a machine at David's factory.

Time passes on and we take our leave. David and Kelly tell us to return any time. We thank them for their hospitality.

We are back at the camp-site; washed and changed we go to the bar for supper.

I notice Maria is a little quite, I ask her why?

She says,

"I'm a little nervous about tomorrow".

Tomorrow we go to her new school, that's why she's quite. I tell her not to worry, everything will be fine.

Maria goes off to the tent early for some sleep, I stay in the bar a little longer.

Sat drinking alone I start to think. It's going to be tough for me to stay all day doing nothing at the school. I've also noticed a lot of pretty girls here, temptation is strong.

I order my last beer before I go to bed. The pretty little waitress talks for a few minutes, very nice.

Everything packed away we walk down to the main road. We flag a taxi and he quickly dispatches us to the town centre.

Breakfast finished we get onto the main highway to Gaborone and wait for a bakkie. We didn't have to wait long, jumping aboard we're soon on the move.

Some time had passed, I'm not sure how much. The bakkie stops, Maria tells me we need to get out here. Jumping from the back of the truck, we wave our fellow passengers goodbye.

We are at a junction, Maria tells me we have to pick up transport here to a small town called Selebi Phikwe.

We had to wait quite a time, not so much traffic heading this way. The driver is only going to the town, when we get there it will be waiting again.

Within no time the tarmac finishes, we are on a sand track. Thank heavens we're in the cab, the dust kicking up is horrible, if we were sat in the back we would choke.

I notice on one side a new road is being constructed, that should make life easier for travelling in this direction.

The scenery is still very boring compared to travelling in Zimbabwe.

Reaching our destination we exit the bakkie, taking cover under a tree.

We seem to be off the beaten track here. Maria tells me this isn't Selebi Phikwe, that's further on. She says,

"We go off up that track",

pointing with her finger.

We wait and we wait, finally someone is going to the school. The only lifts are people working at the school and deliveries.

Taking the track we proceed through some better scenery. The track is getting worse, it also seems to be going up. Four wheel drive only I think.

Finally we reach the gates of the college. Going to and from Francistown will be no easy journey.

Fuck, how will I survive here?

~~~~~

Chapter 7

Bush School

After sitting waiting for what seemed like ages, a big fat black lady finally shows Maria to her new sleeping quarters.

When we get to the house, we find it's already occupied by another male teacher. He introduces himself.

"Hi my name is Carlos".

Is he fucking Spanish?

Maria is shown to her room, opening the door she finds all of her boxes are there.

We shut the door, she looks at me and bursts into tears. I ask her what's wrong.

She's not happy having to share with another man. I tell her that I'm sure it's only temporary, she can ask questions later.

I say,

"Maria do you want me to help you unpack"?

"no I will do it on my own",

she says.

I tell her I will go and have a chat with Carlos.

I find Carlos sat in the lounge of the bungalow. We strike up a conversation. He tells me he's from Cuba. He has been here two years.

I thought to myself how strange, Cuba, communist. Why here?

I learn from Carlos that there are lots of teachers and doctors working here who come from Cuba. What a headline,

"Castro infiltrates Botswana, future take over suspected by the West".

Stop fucking dreaming Seb.

Carlos seems to be a very pleasant guy, I think Maria will get on with him fine.

I go out into the garden, the grass is very tall, not looked after. I decide not to leave the path. During my conversation with Carlos, he told me this place is full of snakes. One day he came home to find a cobra in the corner of the lounge. I'm not sure whether I should tell Maria, on the other hand it's best that she does know.

I return to the lounge to find Maria chatting with Carlos. I ask her if she's finished unpacking.

She says,

"yes the rest can wait".

She gets a door key from Carlos and we set off to explore the school grounds.

The teachers living accommodation is split into two areas. The first is called the snake pit, due to the number of snakes living there. The second is called London Town, no one seems to know the reason for that name.

The grounds of the school are quite expansive. The teachers have a good bit of walking to do.

Looking around the school it's almost surrounded by hills. I think one day I will go up there.

A week goes by and Maria is planning her lessons. The children are starting to return to school. Soon she will be working again and I will be on my own.

We have now been here two weeks and everything is moving. Maria is working, I'm sat twiddling my thumbs. Well not this evening anyway.

The teachers are having a football match against another village. They tell me they are short of players, did I want to play?

I've not played football for years, but it's only for fun. I say,

"yes, but not the whole game".

They assure me that it will be for one half only.

The game will kick off at five this evening when the sun is cooler.

The time arrives, I make my way to the football pitch. I notice the other team is warming up.

They all have a complete strip that is the same, that surprises me. They also look very professional the way they are warming up.

There's two teachers and myself. During the next thirty minutes the others start to arrive. Finally we are complete and the game will kick off, one hour late.

I ask the teacher organising the game what village the opponents are from. He tells me the village could not get a side together, these are the students.

Fucking hell, students against the teachers, that's going to be tough.

I'm given a pair of boots that are too small for me, the sun is still hot, and the pitch is sand with giant tufts of grass. Fuck this is going to be hard work.

I go to the front, there I can just wait for the ball to be hit up field, less running.

We win the first corner, it comes across and I barge the goalkeeper into the net. Just show him our intentions.

These students are sixteen, seventeen, eighteen years old, I can't match their stamina and pace.

The first half comes to an end. The boots are crippling me, I'm drained of energy.

I sit down and remove my boots, passing them to the teacher. He tells me I'm needed for the second half, there's no one else.

I go back to take my position, the students kick off, two nil down. The longer the game goes on, the more of a passenger I become.

The teachers score two more, we are four nil up. Slowly the age gap is showing, the students are dominating the game now.

I'm not playing any part in this game, I'm just running around in circles like a headless chicken.

The students have fought back, they have scored three goals, now it's four goals to three in favour of the teachers.

The students continued to dominate the game but cannot find the equaliser. The final whistle is blown, the game ends.

Thank fuck for that.

I'm so happy to get these fucking boots off my feet. My shorts and tee shirt are soaked in sweat. It looks like I've been in the shower with my clothes on.

The evening is spent nursing my aching body.

Today Maria done some washing before she went to work, I'm responsible for hanging it on the line.

Gathering the wet laundry in my arms, I walk through the long grass to the washing line. Job finished, I go back into the house.

Carlos is there, he's come to collect some papers. He tells me that some people are coming to cut the grass this morning.

Sat drinking coffee in the lounge, I hear a noise. I open the front door to find two young boys swiping at the long grass. I return inside and finish my coffee.

My little project for the day is to go into the bush for a walk.

Closing and locking the front door behind me, I walk down to the school entrance. I go through the gate, heading off into the bush.

Thirty minutes walking, I come across a hill of large and small rocks. I start to climb up.

My mind is telling me this is a good place for snakes to live. It's very dry and plenty of rocks for them to hide under. It wasn't until I caught sight of one, that I made the decision to go back down.

I return to the bungalow. The boys are still cutting but they are almost finished. It looks good.

The door is open, going inside I find Carlos. He tells me the boys killed two snakes that they found in the garden,

He takes me outside to a pile of grass cuttings and shows me the snakes. They are puff adders, not long but fat. I don't want to pick them up, they still look alive.

I stop and think to myself, I was walking in that long grass this morning. I could have trodden on one.

When Maria comes home this evening, I will tell her what they found.

Today is the start of the weekend, Maria is not working. We are both going to find a small lake in the hills, it's about a forty five minute walk.

We've been told to go through the compound of the girls dormitories. There we will see a track leading up into the hills.

Breakfast finished we start walking to the other side of the school. We reach the girls dorms, walking through I see these young girls, fifteen, sixteen years of age, topless. They are hang out of the dorm windows shouting to us, one is totally naked. These are not babies, they are well developed girls.

Looking to my right is the boys dormitories, maybe thirty metres away. A recipe for disaster I think, pregnancy is a cert.

We reach the track and start our climb up, the ascent is not that difficult.

I notice a lot of baboons live in these hills, they seem to be everywhere.

I'm not sure how long we've been walking but we reach the lake. It's not a big lake, just the size of a big swimming pool.

We sit and relax under the trees. There's lots of noises, then we catch site of some monkeys. Over to one side I see two baboons, one is very large, must be a male.

Making our way down, we enter the girls dorm area. This time it's a little quieter. One lone girl is stood outside doing some washing. Bending down her breasts swing to and fro.

The evening is spent in one of the other teachers bungalows, a small get together. The more I talk to these people, the more they annoy me.

A few more days have gone by, I'm really going to have to take some time away from here. Tonight I will talk to Maria about it.

The evening comes, I've decided to tell Maria about my little excursion tonight when we are in bed.

Maria is going over to see the group again, she wants me to come. I tell her I don't want to. She's finding it difficult to understand why. One day I will tell her, I don't like the twats.

Maria tells me that the students have a disco tonight, teachers are not allowed to be there. I find this strange, no supervision at all. Maybe she's wrong.

I've decided to go and take a look at this disco. Armed with my torch I walk in the direction of the dormitories. It's pitch black so I'm looking hard at the ground, I don't want to stand on a snake.

I can now see lights and hear faint music, this must be the hall.

When I reach the hall, everything is in full swing.

The students are looking at me. I walk over and speak to a group. They tell me teachers are not allowed, I tell them I'm not a teacher.

I want to know more about this. I ask them how often they have this disco.

"every Friday",

is the reply.

I say,

"why no teachers?"

A student replies,

"because we don't allow them".

I ask them,

"what would happen if they came here"?

The reply is,

"they will not, they are too scared".

I take another thirty minutes watching these students do their own thing. No supervision, dorms nearby. These girls will be pregnant, that's for sure.

I discreetly take my leave. Walking back, I keep thinking how these young girls will end up having to finish school, because they are pregnant.

When I get back to the bungalow, I find Maria already there.

She asks me about my night, I tell her it was interesting. I in turn ask her about her night.

We go to the bedroom, I undress her and she undresses me. Our bodies are soon joined and the love making is good.

When we are finished we both lie on our backs. I start to tell her about my plan to go to Francistown and see David for a few days.

At first she doesn't understand why I need to go. I explain to her that for me the days get a little boring. She understands and is happy for me to go.

She asks,

"when?"

"tomorrow",

I reply.

~~~~~

Chapter 8

The Beginning of the End

I say goodbye to Maria for a few days, I go to the school entrance to wait for a lift.

It's not long before I'm jumping into a truck. The driver is going to the main road, but not to Francistown.

The journey is now a little boring. When you have to do this just to get a beer or go and do your shopping, I've had enough.

Maria is talking about getting a truck with one of the other girls. They will both have fifty percent share. One week Maria will have the truck, the next week her friend will keep it. Seems fine, but they are at different schools.

We reach the tarmac highway, I exit the bakkie. Within no time I'm in the back of another vehicle heading for Francistown.

The journey is without incident. A few people getting off the bakkie and a few people getting on.

I decide to chill out in the town, get some food and have a beer before I head for the hotel camp-site.

I'm not sure what I will do here, but I need to get away from that fucking school and that group of people. I think it's time to evaluate my relationship.

Well sat contemplating my future, I hadn't notice the pretty brown skinned girl sat near me. We make some eye contact.

She says,

"hi, how are you?"

I reply,

"I'm fine, you also?"

She says,

"yes, I'm good, my name is Tina".

"Nice to meet you Tina, my name is Seb",

I reply.

She tells me she's a student, studying agriculture. She's nineteen years old and lives in Francistown.

We talk for one hour, a very nice girl. She wears round wire-rim glasses that give her an educated look, sexy as well.

She tells me that she needs to go, she has a lecture in one hour. She gets up from the table and says,

"goodbye Seb".

I look at her as she walks away, her body is Coca Cola, beautiful shape. She turns and gives me a wave, then she's out of sight.

Looking at the time, I decide to go to the camp-site. Finding a taxi I'm soon arriving at the hotel. I get out, pay the fare and the cab is gone.

Approaching me is a familiar sight, the enforcer, the lady looking after the site.

She remembers me. Her first words are,

"hello sir, where is your wife?".

Fucking nosey, I give her a quick explanation, then go to the pitch I want.

I'm getting good at erecting this tent, it doesn't take long before everything is done.

The rest of the afternoon I lie on my back looking into the canopy of the trees. My thoughts are very much about Maria, our relationship and staying with her at the school for six months.

Do I love her any more? I'm not sure if I do. If I did why would I've been playing with Jackie and Cynthia?

Showered and feeling fresh I walk down to the bar. Tonight it's busy, there's a large group of men, mostly Europeans I think.

I settle down into a comfy chair with a long glass of ice cold beer. I watch the people enjoying themselves.

Two men ask if they can sit at my table, I tell them no problem.

We start a conversation. They tell me they are working in Orapa, at the diamond mine there. They are here for the weekend to play darts against another team.

They come to Africa to work but have to play darts, why?

They tell me they are from Netherlands. Pointing out different people to me, they run through several different nationalities, including British.

I tell them that I'm from England, my girlfriend is teaching here.

They point to one man.

"He is from England, his name is Bob",

they tell me.

They will tell him there's a fellow Englishman here. I nod with approval.

Later in the evening Bob comes over and introduces himself. He tells me he's a Yorkshire man, he's been working out here for five years.

I ask him why they play darts. he tells me for enjoyment. I comment that the distances are far just to play a game of darts. He tells me this time it's also business.

Monday he's going to drive to Jo'burg, he needs to recruit electrical technicians for the mine. I tell him that's my occupation.

He says,

"do you want a job?"

I tell him I have no experience of working in the mines. He tells me it would be no problem, the mine is opencast, the largest in the world.

He gives me his number, I tell him I will think about it.

The evening draws to a close and I walk back to the tent. I sit down outside and contemplate the job offer. I've only just finished work, do I want another job? I want to go to Fiji, see Beni and everyone there. I think in one years time this would be a good offer. Right now, it's got to be no.

My mind then turns to Maria. I really think it's the end of the line for our relationship. She's good in bed, she looks after me well, but I need freedom.

Fuck it, that's enough deep thinking for tonight. I'm going to bed.

It's a bright new day, the sky is blue, I've just arrived at David's place.

I ring the bell once, the security guard opens the door and lets me in.

I walk to David's front door and ring the bell once. The door opens, it's the man himself.

I ask him,

"no work today David?"

"I've already been",

he replies.

We sit and drink a coffee outside under the trees. The sun reflects off the swimming pool, catching me in the eyes.

"David where's Kelly?"

I ask him.

"she is in Francistown, doing some shopping",

he replies.

After one hour we are joined in the garden by Kelly. A quick chat and she returns to the kitchen to pack away her shopping.

Time ticks by, David jumps to his feet.

"Come on, lets go".

The three of us jump into his four wheel drive, he navigates out through the main gate. Foot on the accelerator he takes off like rocket.

He tells me our destination is a restaurant, they do African food.

At the restaurant we are served by a beautiful black girl, David tells me she's the owner. She certainly knows them both very well.

David talks me into trying a certain dish. When it arrives at the table it looks good.

On the plate is what looks like mash potato, there's also meat in a sauce and some greens.

David starts to explain that the stuff that looks like potato to me is called sadza, it's made from ground maize. He explains that you eat it with your fingers, breaking a piece and dipping it into the sauce.

I break my first piece off, putting my finger in to do this I realise how hot it is on the inside. Touching the outside it feels cool. I dip the piece I have between my fingers into the sauce and pop it into my mouth. The taste is good, a little bland but nice.

David explains that growing up in Zimbabwe, he would eat this meal three times a week. For the black it's the staple, everyday it's on the menu.

He tells me he needs to eat it at least once a week.

I've cleared my plate, I will eat it again but not every day. It fills the stomach, but I don't think it will beat Pie City.

Everyone finished David pays the bill. I try to give him some money but he insists it's on him.

When we leave I look at the pretty owner of the restaurant, she's looking in my direction giving a nice smile. David notices, he tells me to be careful.

"Keep it in your trousers, there's a lot of HIV here",

he says.

Back in the rocket we drive away. After ten minutes I start to recognise where we are. We are near the hotel. I ask David if we are near the hotel where I'm camping,

"yes",

he replies.

Minutes later we are driving into the hotel car park. He wants to have a beer here.

He asks me where I'm pitched, I point out my tent to him. We walk across and enter the bar.

Once inside we take a seat. David takes the order and goes to the bar, a few minutes later he returns with the girl who works here.

She removes our drinks from the tray and places them on the table one at a time. She looks up, with a beautiful smile and says,

"how are you today?"

I tell her I'm fine, I also tell her how beautiful she looks. She giggles and does a quick retreat.

We spend the next few hours drinking; David will not let me pay for anything.

I keep looking across at the waitress, we have lots of eye contact and smiles.

Time for David and Kelly to go. He gives everyone in the bar a big goodbye and we find ourselves stood in the car park by the rocket.

He says,

"Seb, would you like to visit my factory tomorrow morning?"

Tomorrow is Sunday, nothing else to do.

I say,

"yes David that would be good".

"OK nine thirty, I will pick you up"

The evening is a little low key, a few beers in the bar again. Then I sit outside the tent thinking about Maria.

It's ten o'clock and no sign of David. Suddenly I hear a familiar noise, into the drive comes the rocket.

I walk over, before I get there David jumps out. He greets me and asks me if I'm ready.

"I've been ready since nine thirty",

I respond.

He says,

"African time, you will get accustomed to it".

I laugh, I think I understand what he's saying. I've noticed that things are never done on time, be it a bus leaving for a destination, or a meeting with someone.

I get into the rocket, within no time we are entering into the factory grounds. This man does like speed.

We go into what is a tidy factory, the noise of the looms rebounding off the walls.

David takes me over to what is a new machine being installed. I recognise the white man working on the control box. It's the German that I met at David's house.

After one hour or so we take our leave, I tell David that was very interesting. Next time I see a blanket here for sale I will look at it very differently.

We head back to David's house for the day. I'm totally spoilt by him and his wife, drink, food and beautiful surroundings.

Evening approaches, I say goodbye to Kelly. I jump into the rocket with David, with the foot down we are propelled out of the suburb onto the main road.

Ten minutes or less, I'm in the hotel car park saying goodbye to David. I thank him for his amazing hospitality.

I walk across to my tent, sitting outside I think about tomorrow.

~~~~~

Chapter 9

Farewell

Transport went well today, I've reached the school and it's only midday. It's Friday so Maria is at school. Tonight I will break the news to her that our relationship is over.

Maria arrives home, she's very happy to see me. She puts her arms around my neck, planting a big kiss on my cheek.

She wants to know how the trip was, how David and Kelly are.

We sit and make small talk, she tells me she's found a truck, they will pick it up tomorrow.

That's good news; she will not be here when I leave. Might make things a little easier.

She cooks some food which tastes good, fuck she's making it very difficult for me.

The night seems to go so slowly, the conversation is getting more difficult. I just want to get this over and done with.

The clock finally reaches ten, it's time for bed.

In the bedroom we get undressed and get into bed. Maria is soon trying to erect my manhood, I stop her. She says,

"what's wrong?"

"I need to tell you something",

I say to her.

I tell her that I don't want to be with her any more. At first she thinks I'm joking, then she realises that I'm serious. She says,

"why, what's making you think this way?"

I explain that I will be travelling in Australia and Fiji for six months. I want to be free when I'm there, no dependants.

The tears are starting to roll down her cheeks; I think reality is kicking in. More talking but no progress, we finally exhaust the topic. I still think she's not aware that this is for real.

We try to go to sleep, for her it's difficult because she's crying, for me it's difficult because I have to listen to her crying.

I wake up to find Maria not at my side; perhaps she's already gone to collect the truck.

Getting dressed I walk out into the lounge. I hear Maria in the kitchen; she comes through to greet me.

"Good morning darling, I've made you breakfast".

Fucking hell, she's acting like everything is normal, doesn't she realise I'm leaving today.

We sit and have breakfast together; it's just like a normal morning.

This isn't a normal morning, I'm fucking leaving you.

Thank heavens that she will not be around when I walk out of the door with my pack.

We both finish our breakfast; I help Maria clean the plates. I go outside and sit on the porch, five minutes pass and out she comes. She kisses me on the cheek and says,

"see you later darling".

She's going to collect the truck; I need to be gone before she gets back. All that I've said to her seems to have drifted into a niche somewhere in her head. When it finally opens I'm not sure what the results will be.

My belongings are in the backpack; I sling it onto my shoulder and start the walk to the school entrance.

At the gate I sit and wait for some transport, it doesn't take long. One of the teachers is going to see a friend in Selebi Phikwe, which means I will have to wait for another lift to Francistown.

The trip down the track is still a painful experience. Sometimes I'm launched out of my seat hitting my head on the roof of the cab.

We reach the road to Selebi Phikwe. I exit the bakkie, thanking the teacher for the lift.

There doesn't seem to be much traffic, but that can change quickly. I give a small boy some coins to look out for a vehicle to Francistown.

It's only eleven o'clock but I need a beer. I enter the small bar; there are a few other clients. Ordering my drink, I take it and sit in one corner.

Looking around I see a very beautiful girl, we make eye contact. She smiles and starts to approach my table. She's asks if she can sit down? I tell her I would like that.

We start to chat; she's the owner of the bar. Her boyfriend is an Englishman, he's teaching here. Her face is very beautiful, her skin a light brown. Her body is very fit; I think her boyfriend is a very lucky man.

I tell her that I'm going to Bulawayo in Zimbabwe, she says,

"I will be there in two weeks time".

We exchange contact details, I tell her I will be at the camp-site. She gives me the name of the hotel she will be staying in.

A bakkie pulls up outside, out gets Maria and her friend. Maria comes into the bar. She looks over to where I'm sitting with this beautiful lady. The beautiful lady says,

"your girlfriend?"

I tell her ex-girlfriend.

Maria joins us at the table; she looks at my backpack on the floor. The owner decides to leave us alone.

"Why do you have your things with you?"

she asks.

"Maria we discussed this last night",

I say to her.

Tears come from her eyes, now she realises it's final. No words come from her mouth; she just gets up and leaves the bar. I see her friend consoling her outside; they both get in the truck and drive off.

I'd forgotten about my lift to Francistown, is the boy still out there looking for me? or did he go taking my money with him?.

No, he's still around, he comes racing in telling me there's a bakkie waiting for me outside.

I finish my beer, I wave to the beautiful lady, she shouts,

"I will see you in Bulawayo",

I hope so.

Outside I find one man and a bakkie, he tells me he's going to Francistown. The front is full of things so I will have to ride in the back. I throw my backpack into the bed of the truck, I then follow.

The man takes off with great determination, I think he likes rallying. The wind is blowing in my face, the feeling is good. The truck is leaving a massive cloud of dust behind it; the camera should give me some good photos.

He keeps driving off the main sand road and into the bush, he definitely knows this road.

The sand makes way for tarmac and we arrive on the main highway to Francistown. Still I'm the only passenger; he doesn't want to pick anyone else up.

The drive on the tarmac road was easy for this man, he likes speed.

We reach the city centre and come to a halt. I drop my pack over the side and onto the floor. I jump out and go to the passenger window. I thank the man for the lift; I ask how much I owe him? he says,

"nothing".

I go straight to Pie City, I'm fucking hungry. Finding a small bar, I demolish my pies with a few cold beers. Time passes quickly; I need to look for a taxi.

Getting a taxi I find myself back at the hotel. Paying the driver I go to find the enforcer. I don't find her, she finds me.

Does she ever have a day off?

Tent pitched I just relax and dose off for a few hours. I'm woken by a car arriving, the occupants making plenty of noise.

The evening is with me. The sleep done me good, I feel like a few more beers tonight.

Showered and changed I go to the bar. I see my lovely waitress coming towards me to take my order. She greets me with a nice smile, her big brown eyes looking at me like a small child.

Drinking my beer I start to think about Maria. I didn't like to see her crying like that but I needed to leave. I would go mad if I stayed with those fuck wit friends of hers.

I drink a few more beers, getting lots of eye contact from the pretty waitress. Should I ask her to meet me for a drink tomorrow? No, fuck off to Bulawayo, no more complications.

I walk back to the tent, sitting outside I think about Maria. It's been a tough decision, but I'm sure it's the right one.

Many things go over and over in my mind until I'm too tired to think any more. I go into the tent, I need sleep, tomorrow I will go to Zimbabwe.

Lights out Seb.

~~~~~

Chapter 10

I'm Free

Today everything is new. It's a new start, a new plan, a new beginning.

Everything packed away; I head down the hotel drive. Reaching the road I soon get a taxi. A short ride and he drops me at the pick-up point for the mini taxis to the border.

Well waiting I'm joined by a pretty Batswana girl. We start to talk; she tells me she's at college. She's twenty years old with one child.

"My name is Louise".

She asks the same questions of me. I tell her I'm from England and I'm going into Zimbabwe.

"My name is Seb",

I tell her.

The taxi going to the border arrives; I jump in and wish her well. I tell her I will contact her when I return to Francistown.

It's not long before we get to the Botswana immigration post. Everybody vacates the taxi, joining the already long queue we wait for our passports to be stamped.

Slowly people return to the taxi until we are complete. The driver transports us across no man's land, finally reaching the Zimbabwean side.

This time the queue is a little shorter. They seem well organised on this side. I reach the counter; the officer asks me the same dumb questions. Passport stamped I proceed to the customs desk, they're not interested.

There are not many cars today; I start to walk to the gate where the taxis are park.

I hear a voice calling me; I look around to see a young man beckoning me to come to him. He's got some ID around his neck, he's immigration. He asks me to open my backpack. He does a quick search, and then he says,

"do you have a gun?"

What a strange question, I tell him I don't have.

Finally I'm outside the gate, I'm back in Zimbabwe.

Boarding a taxi which is already full, we soon leave the border.

Windows open, a lovely breeze keeps everyone inside cool. I look out at the beautiful scenery, this is a nice country. I want to see more.

We make a stop in Plumtree; most people are getting out here. The taxi doesn't want to go to Bulawayo; he tells the few of us who are going to Bulawayo that we will get into this van. We don't have to pay the fare; he will sort it out with the driver.

I get into the back of the van, there are no seats. A few people are already inside. The remaining places are soon taken, Bulawayo next stop.

Opposite me is a young black girl. We soon have eye contact; her legs start to touch mine. By the time we get out of the van in the city centre we are on talking terms. I tell her I'm staying at the camp-site. She says,

"I will join you later".

It's still very early so I walk to the camp-site, once there I'm given my old pitch. It amazes me how people remember me from before when I was here with Maria. Within no time the tent is pitched and I'm heading back into the centre.

First stop is Pie City, I'm hungry. Today chicken, first bite I get a big lump of meat, these pies are good.

Having been here with Maria not long ago makes finding my way around easy.

My next stop is Gray's Inn.

This place is very interesting. There is wood panelling and fixed to the bar is draught ale pumps. It all looks so English.

I ask the barman for a draught,

"sorry sir they don't work",

he replies.

I take a bottle of Bohlingers into the lounge area. Finding a comfortable seat, I watch the other clients eating and drinking. Most of them are black; there are also a few whites.

They have waiters and waitresses in very old dingy uniforms. I call one over for another beer. Looking closer at the uniform it's very grubby, past its best. The service is good.

I can imagine this place would have been packed with whites during the Rhodesian times. The only black people allowed in would have been the workers.

Five o'clock, I need to start walking back to the camp-site before dark.

Bulawayo is a very vibrant city. The people look very happy, there's good entertainment, bars and clubs. Banking and shopping facilities are like we have back home. I'm going to enjoy this city.

I arrive at the gates to the camp-site. The security guard greets me; he tells me I have a visitor.

A visitor? no one knows me here.

I walk around the hedge until I can see my tent; sitting outside the tent on the grass is a black girl.

"Who the fuck is this?"

I ask myself.

Approaching the tent the girl turns around, once I'm close enough I recognise her. It's the girl from the van, I'd forgotten about her.

We sit and start to chat. She tells me her name is Anne; she's from the north originally.

She's carrying a large bag of clothing; I ask her what it's for? She tells me she will sell it. She buys it in Botswana and sells it here in Zimbabwe.

She asks if she can take a shower. I tell her that's fine, we can go over together.

Collecting my towel and soap, I guide her to the ladies showers; they're just at the back of the men's showers.

I'm first to arrive back at the tent, inside I change into some different clothes. Soon Anne is back from having her shower, feeling more refreshed.

We sit outside talking, the hours pass quickly. She's a very intelligent girl. Her education was very little, her family being too poor to send her and her siblings to school.

I've just realised that it's very late. I ask Anne where she's sleeping tonight. She looks at me with her big brown eyes, and says,

"can I sleep here?"

I tell her that will be fine; the tent is big enough for two people.

Inside the tent we lie side by side, there's a small space separating us.

The tent is lit slightly from the outside security lighting.

I look over at Anne; I see her white teeth and the whites of her eyes. She's wearing a large tee shirt over her bra and panties.

I reach my hand over and stroke her mass of Afro hair.

Oh Marsha Hunt.

She responds by moving closer to me.

We start to kiss. She removes her tee shirt, I undo her bra. Touching her breasts, I feel her nipples start to protrude, they're fucking big.

She removes my boxers, within seconds I'm erect.

I remove her panties to reveal a small mound of black curly hair.

Touching her I notice how smooth her skin is. Her body is very curvaceous, Coca Cola.

She slowly massages my cock; this is getting too much for me.

I say,

"do you want me inside you?"

Her reply is,

"yes".

Condom in place, I make contact with my first black pussy. I push slowly into her. The nipples are now the size of my thumb, her body gyrates in time with me, until we are both too tired to carry on. We fall a sleep in each others grasp.

The tent is lit with the early morning sun. Outside the birds are singing.

I look at Anne; she's naked, looking very beautiful. Her big Afro hair is a little wind swept but still looks good. I cover her with the sleeping bag.

Unzipping the door of the tent, I look out into my glorious garden. The sun is already warming up the early morning. I watch a bird hovering over a vivid red flower, dipping it's beak inside.

Dragging my head and shoulders back into the tent, I turn to look at Anne.

She's wide awake, those big brown eyes looking at me.

I move over and join her. We start to kiss; I remove the sleeping bag to reveal her beautiful body.

She starts to touch me, soon we are making love. It doesn't have the intensity of last night but it still feels good.

I've told Anne I will treat her to breakfast before she leaves.

We start walking to the city centre. The path is well used during the day. Near the camp-site there's a college, so most of the people we are passing are students.

We reach the town. I remember a coffee shop I used with Maria, it was called Haefelis. I need to ask someone for the direction, I can't remember.

We were told that we are one block away. Walking in the direction we have been given we soon find the place.

Sitting at a table outside on the pavement, I make my order.

"Black coffee and a croissant",

I say to the waitress.

Anne goes for soda and some sweet sticky cake.

Sitting here watching the African people go about their business is interesting. Every once in a while we would be interrupted by a child begging, or a hawker trying to sell his wares. The security guard would move quickly, shooing them away.

Breakfast finished I walk a little way down the street with Anne. She's getting a bus to a place called Gweru. Finally I stop; this is where I must leave her. I kiss her and say goodbye. I watch her walking away from me, she becomes smaller and smaller, until she's finally out of sight.

Will I ever see her again? I don't think so, I never gave her a contact.

The rest of the day is spent eating pies from Pie City and drinking at the Gray's Inn.

Arriving back at the camp-site, I notice the tent I'd seen this morning is open. The occupants are sat outside, a white man and a black girl. There's smoke coming off the braai, I think they're cooking something.

I walk over and take a shower. Walking back the white man shouts,

"hello".

I walk over to their tent.

"Hi, my name's Seb".

He replies,

"I'm Tom, nice to meet you".

He's from Bath in England, I tell him I'm from Malvern, England.

I'm introduced to his girlfriend, her name is Ester. She's a very pretty girl, big round eyes and definitely Coca Cola.

We sit talking. He tells me he's leaving tomorrow, he's going to Jo'burg. He's come from Mozambique; he wants to buy some land there.

He asks me what I'm doing tonight.

I reply,

"nothing".

He tells me about a nightclub, he asks if I would like to go with him tonight. I'm not a great lover of the nightclub scene, but it would be interesting to see how the Africans enjoy themselves. I agree to go.

"What time Tom?"

"Seven thirty",

he replies.

Ester takes her leave. I also head back to my tent; seven thirty is only one and a half hours away.

Tom and I walk into the city, it's still light so safe enough.

We soon reach our destination. The sign says,

"Silver Fox Nightclub".

Paying a small entrance fee we walk into the club. The place is like a large bar, that's what I would compare it to in my home town in England.

There's a small stage for people to dance, the lights are nearly non-existent and there are a few tables and chairs.

We go to the bar, I order two beers. I sit on a stool, Tom goes wandering. I turn to the girl standing next to me, it's Ester.

"Hi Ester, Tom is here".

She shrugs her shoulders. Maybe not boyfriend, girlfriend.

I spot Tom, he's chatting to another girl. I'm not sure what these two are about.

Slowly I'm approached by one girl, then another, then another. All want me to buy them a beer. I tell them I don't buy beer for a girl in a bar. They all look at me strangely, but all of them politely say,

"that's fine, thank you".

Tom returns with another girl. This one looks a little under-age to me.

He says,

"Seb I'm going back to the camp-site, I will catch you later".

I'm pretty sure now that Ester was not a girlfriend, maybe a prostitute.

I'm joined again at the bar by Ester; we sit and talk about many things.

She tells me she's got two children; she's not living with their father. She's twenty six years old.

I think she's a very pretty girl. Her body is very slim and curvaceous. Her English is good and she's very polite.

I do notice other white men in here; the girls are all over them.

The music is loud; the girls are doing some incredible hip movements on the dance floor.

Ester is chatting to one of the other whites in here. These girls are definitely looking for money.

I start to think to myself, HIV is possibly thirty percent here in Zimbabwe.

There are three girls stood together, that means that one of them could be HIV positive. I look in a different direction, another three, same scenario.

Frightening.

It reaches morning time, it's one o'clock. There's no sign of Tom, I think I will get back.

Outside I find plenty of taxis. I did ask Ester the cost of a taxi from here to the camp-site. First one I approach gives me the correct fare. Jumping into the front passenger seat we set off.

Sitting there, I start to think about the girls in the club. There life is not the best. Some will not be prostitutes, just young girls out to enjoy the evening dancing. I have certainly enjoyed it.

Arriving back at the camp-site entrance, I find the big gate shut. Trying to open seems impossible, there's a lock and chain. A few taps on the chain link and a security guard appears to let me in.

Cleaning the teeth is out for tonight, the walk to the toilet block seems too far. It's a piss against the tree, I'm tired.

Over the next few weeks, Silver Fox becomes a regular haunt of mine. I start to get acquainted with more of the girls, first names are used. They've also given up asking me for beers.

One girl who is very friendly with me is Mercy. Tonight she comes back to the camp-site with me.

This girl is soon joined to me, we make some good love. I notice again how big her nipples are, the breasts are small. It must be the norm here, big nipples. I will have to do a survey.

I take Mercy into town for breakfast; if she was a prostitute would she not want money?

Breakfast finished Mercy goes on her way. I do my usual day in Bulawayo, drinking.

Well sat drinking in Gray's Inn, I start to think about what I want to do.

Every day I drink. In the evening I grab a pie or sausage roll on route to Silver Fox, eating well I'm walking. Once there I drink until three or four in the morning. This needs to stop.

I decide to go to a town called Mutare, tomorrow.

~~~~~

Chapter 11

Eastern Highlands

Today it's the bus to Mutare and the Eastern Highlands. Goodbye to the hectic life I'm leading in Bulawayo, but not for good.

Mutare is very close to the border of Mozambique. The mountain range of the Eastern Highlands forms a natural border between Zimbabwe and Mozambique.

My plan is to chill in the town for a few days, then go up into the part of the Highlands called the Bvumba or Vumba.

What seemed like a very long journey, maybe eight hours, I have finally arrived here in Mutare.

Exiting the bus I go to look for a small guest house. I have the tent with me but I'm not sure if they have a camp-site here in the town.

I was given the name of a guest house by a traveller who came through the camp-site in Bulawayo.

It doesn't take me long to find what I'm looking for. The place is calling itself a hotel, it's a big place.

Room sorted I move back out onto the towns pavements. I ask a few local people for a tourist information office? I get blank looks. One gentleman does know where it is. Following his directions I'm there in a few minutes.

Tomorrow is planned. In the office they told me about a reserve called Cecil Kop, it's only a few kilometres from town. It boasts Elephant, Rhino, Zebra, Wildebeest and various antelope.

Most other things are too far out; I will just look at the town. There's a museum, I'm not sure I really want that.

Walking around I'm stopped by a white man. He looks a pretty rough diamond. He's wearing bush clothes, like he's a ranger.

He starts to talk to me, his breath stinks of alcohol.

He tells me he's a guide; his truck's got a puncture. He takes me to the truck and sure enough there is a flat tyre.

He doesn't have any money at the present time; he's asking me if I can give him a loan.

This man's got a big four wheel drive for doing tours, and he can't repair the puncture?

I tell him that I can't help, my finances are very low. He keeps trying, even following me, finally he gives up.

The rest of the day is spent walking, having a beer and conversing with some local blacks.

I did see the guide again; he was pissed out of his mind. I later found out that he doesn't have a vehicle, it belongs to someone else. He's got a good scam going there, he does look like a guide the way he's dressed, when you see a safari truck it all looks legit.

Night time, I'm stood on the veranda of the hotel looking down onto the street. There's what looks like a lot of prostitutes looking for business. I think this hotel is used by them.

I'm going to bed; I will leave the ladies of the night to go about their business.

Today I'm walking to the Cecil Kop Reserve. Some good kind person gave me directions. The sun is shining down on me with revenge, for what? I'm not sure. It's fucking hot.

Time passes and I'm at the entrance to the reserve.

"Do I try Plumtree Catholic Mission School?"

The entrance fee is very small; I decide to pay the tourist rate.

I spend the day walking, sitting, and watching. The feed time arrives; I go to a viewing terrace.

Already there's some rhino, they look a little old. They are only a few metres away.

Coming in is a herd of elephant. One big old bull is leading the way, a few babies hiding within the group.

From another direction I see the zebra and some antelope making their way over.

No wildebeest, perhaps they're not hungry.

You can certainly get some good close up photographs, but it reminds me of the safari parks we have in England.

Late arrivals are the wildebeest.

The day's been a long tiring one, with the walk back and a few beers I'm ready to hit the sack. Tomorrow I go off to the Bvumba.

Asking around it seems that transport is a little limited. People tell me sometimes the ET will go up there.

I think it's too far to walk; I have to find some kind of transport.

Asking the taxi drivers, they all tell me the same story. They are not going up there, if I would like to I can hire them privately. That's not in the equation, it will be too expensive.

I decide to go to the road that goes to the Bvumba, there must be traffic going up. There are hotels, guest houses, they all need supplies.

It's not long before my finger manages to attract a car to stop. The driver is a white Zimbabwean. I explain to him where I want to go, he tells me he's not going that far. He tells me where he will drop me off; I would need to walk for thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes walking is fine, I accept his lift.

The road is tarmac; it curves around like a snake. There are some pretty expensive houses along the way. The car comes to a halt; this is where I have to get out. I thank the driver and start my hike.

I've been walking about ten minutes. In front of me is a female, long blonde hair, jeans and a green combat jacket.

Another ten minutes and I've caught up with her. I say,

"hi how is your day?"

She replies,

"fine, and yours?"

I tell her it's good.

We walk along together, she tells me her name is Astrid, and she's from Germany. She's also travelling Southern Africa. Her trip will finish in Cape Town.

I ask her where she's staying. she gives me the name of the lodge, it's the one I'm looking for.

We finally arrive at the lodge; it's just a house with a beautiful garden. The perfect setting.

I have the tent pitched in no time. It's still early morning, not even close to midday.

I go to find Astrid; she's sat on the veranda at the back of the house. I ask her if she would like to join me for a walk, she says,

"yes".

I haven't eaten breakfast; I need something in my stomach. I noticed a sign for home made food and coffee when we were walking up here.

"Astrid would you like coffee or tea?"

I ask her.

"Yes that would be nice",

she replies.

We get to the sign, it tells us Valley Tea Rooms, that's very English. Walking into the garden reminds me of the lodge I'm staying at, maybe a little smaller.

Going inside the house, I can't believe how perfect it is. Everything is very regimental, nothing out of place.

From one of the doorways enters a white man.

"Hello my lovelies, how can I help you?"

Fucking hell this man is so camp, his voice, mannerisms.

A fucking poof in black Africa.

I look over to Astrid; she's going to start laughing. If she does, it will start me off.

I ask her what she would like.

"Tea please".

I tell the African gay boy that we both want tea.

"Anything to eat darling?"

The cunt's calling me darling.

I look in Astrid's direction, she's starting to laugh. I try to stop her outburst by asking her if she would like some cake.

"I have a beautiful strawberry flan, I made it myself",

gay boy tells us.

Astrid nods her head and quickly leaves the room.

I tell him one flan and one current cake.

I go outside joining Astrid at a table under the porch. She looks at me and starts to laugh; this in turn makes me laugh.

Gay boy brings out our order. The cups, saucers and plates all match. They have a very elegant flower design. The tea and milk pots are silver, as are the forks and spoons. Everything is set on a flowered table cloth, including doilies.

I wouldn't have expected to find this here in Zimbabwe. The African is very anti-gay.

We taste our food; we both agree it's excellent.

I wonder if the cunt did make it.

Over our tea and cake I find out more about Astrid. The more I look at her the prettier she becomes.

Our tea finished, the gay boy comes with his silver tray. He puts everything onto the tray.

"I will bring you the bill darling".

Why does he keep calling me darling?

We watch him walk back inside with the tray. His arse moves like a woman.

Astrid looks at me, she says,

"darling",

then bursts into laughter again.

Bill paid, we take our leave. He did tell us that he's the owner, and does all the cooking himself. He also told me he lives there alone.

Well cunt I'm not coming to join you.

The night is spent with Astrid, talking, drinking. Tomorrow she's leaving, shame. I would love to be in between her legs tonight. That's not going to happen.

I'm sat drinking my cup of coffee at the lodge, I'm not going to the Tea Rooms on my own.

Astrid left earlier. She's a really nice girl, travelling with her would be great fun I think.

I'm going to explore the wood nearby. I've been told to be careful; some tourists have been robbed there. I think I will take my Knobkierrie.

A ten minute walk and I'm entering the wood, once inside I find it very dark. The occasional ray of sunlight breaks through the canopy, telling me it's daytime.

I hear running water; I soon find the source, a small stream. Following the stream I hear the sound of the water increase in volume. Finally I come to a waterfall, not that big but very pretty.

I take a few more hours of my day exploring the dense undergrowth. I'd completely forgotten about the possibility of thieves hiding behind the big hardwood trees.

Coming out into the sunlight causes my eyes to shut, slowly they get accustom to the bright light.

I want to walk up the hill a little. The owner told me you have fantastic views across the valley, you can also see Leopard Rock Hotel.

Once there I'm greeted with some fantastic scenery, the views are beautiful.

The evening is a little quite. I don't have Astrid with me tonight; I'm the only person staying here. Tomorrow back to Mutare.

The morning is starting off well; someone from the lodge is going into Mutare.

The driver navigates the bends very fast; we are soon in the town. I thank the man for my lift.

He's tells me where to get a bus to Chimanimani, if there's one available I should be there by midday.

The day is getting better by the minute. I have just arrived at the terminal and I have my seat on the next bus to Chimanimani. The driver tells me it will be leaving in ten minutes time.

The drive was smooth, we are arriving in Chimanimani. The bus comes to a halt, looking around I see a sign for "Heaven Lodge", that's where I want to go.

This place is a backpacker's lodge, there are dormitories or camping.

For me it's the good old two man tent.

Why do they say two man?

Tent pitched, I walk up to the main building. The place is elevated, to the front is a big grass area.

Inside I find the information I want. From here there's a four wheel drive going up to the base camp, about nineteen kilometres. That's where I will be going tomorrow.

I spend the rest of the day exploring the town. Near is a waterfall called, Bridal Veil, makes for some nice photographs. I also find a shop, they sell cheese produced here called Chimanimani. Something else I've never seen before, flavoured peanuts. Crisps yes, peanuts no. Okay not a great selection of flavours, salt and vinegar and some kind of chilli flavour.

The evening is spent devouring my big block of cheese with some bread, all being washed down with a few bottles of Zambezi.

Morning arrives; it's an early start, six o'clock. The journey is only nineteen kilometres but the track is not good, only fit for four wheel drive.

After two hours of bumping up and down in the back of the truck, we reach our destination, base camp. The park entrance really.

I want to start the climb straight away. I was told it's quite tough and will take about three hours.

The park ranger tells me it's eight o'clock. That means I can be on the plateau by midday.

The walk starts gently following a path, the path turns into a track getting steeper the further I go. I find the track becoming more difficult to negotiate, big rocks the size of beach balls are now making up the track. It's quite easy to slip off and twist an ankle.

I come to the first rock to climb; it's about three metres high. That obstacle negotiated I walk a small track to the next wall of rock.

Sitting resting are two girls, they tell me they are from Sweden. Very pretty, blonde hair, blue eyes and good bodies.

After resting we all decide to move together. The girls are hot from the hike they've done so far. First one, then the other, removes their tops. They still have their bras on, but I can't keep my eyes off their beautifully formed breasts.

They climb first; I follow like a dog chasing the bitch.

I'm now starting to feel the climb, my legs and body is aching. I'm not sure how far we still have to go.

The girls want another rest, I decide to keep going.

Several more granite obstacles are conquered, finally I find myself at the top. Well not quite the top, I see what looks like a mountain.

The plateau is grass, one metre high. There's a gentle breeze blowing, that's nice, it keeps me cool from the hot sun.

Walking through the grass following a small path, I get sight of the mountain hut.

I didn't bring my tent; I hope to sleep out in the open tonight. There are caves here, but people say they are cold and damp. If all else fails I will sleep in the hut.

I reach the hut; it's got a nice porch, two metres deep and wooden floor. I will sleep there, that's my bed for tonight.

I haven't seen another soul up here, so peaceful.

I have a tourist map I picked up at the lodge. My first direction is a path to a hilltop. There I should be able to see down into Mozambique.

Walking I notice butterflies flitting around me, beautiful colours adorn their wings. Looking up at the sky I see nothing but blue, not one cloud.

I get to what seems to be the edge of the plateau, the path is starting to drop down. The views are tremendous, I'm looking into Mozambique. I'm not sure where the physical border actually starts, but the views are stunning.

This is supposed to have been an old slave route, taking slaves to the coast I think. Must have been a long tough journey, especially considering they would have been shackled together.

More hiking through the long grass, looking at caves and just admiring the surroundings, I think how lucky I am to be in such a peaceful place.

I hadn't noticed above me the big grey menacing clouds that had been forming. The sky is changing from the beautiful blue to an ugly grey and black. I need to get back to the hut.

I still haven't seen any other people here yet. Walking with pace I get sight of the hut. A short time and I'm a stones throw away. On the porch are the two Swedish girls.

The rain starts to fall, that's good timing. I get under the cover of the porch, greeting the two girls.

The sky is getting darker and the temperature is dropping. This could be an interesting night.

Two men join us under the porch, they're white Zimbabweans.

Now we are five.

The rain is getting heavier. There are some big bolts of lighting flashing above; they make a sizzling sound around us. They're followed by some mighty cracks of thunder which makes the porch floor vibrate.

We're joined by another couple, a man and woman, they're drenched.

Now we are seven.

Everyone starts to bed down on the porch. I'm tucked into my sleeping bag, head inside I zip myself up.

The storm is becoming very violent; the claps of thunder seem a little too close for comfort.

I hear a noise on my sleeping bag, unzipping I put my head out. The wind is blowing the rain in under the porch. Now we have a big problem, no cover.

Getting wet up here in the cold could give you hypothermia. My sleeping bag is only thin and I only have a lightweight top.

After some discussion, we all agree that we need to be inside the hut. The Zimbabweans force the window open and everyone climbs in.

There's a supply of wood, soon we have a fire burning. From what was looking to be a desperate situation is now a cosy Christmas card scene.

We're not sure where the man who looks after the hut sleeps, maybe up here on the plateau. If he arrives we will pay accordingly.

The weather was very bad last night. The noise of thunder and the rain banging down on the roof of the hut, kept me awake for most of the time.

The morning is a little misty; the sky is back to the beautiful blue colour.

Everyone goes out through the window. It's still early, but we don't want any rangers finding us in the hut.

Walking across the plateau through the long grass, one of the Zimbabweans spots a snake. The only part you can see is the head, it looks ready to strike if need be. It's some kind of viper, definitely poisonous.

We reach the edge of the plateau, now we can start our decent.

Someone has a good map of the area, there's another way down. It goes through a forest, steep paths but not the rock climbing I experienced coming up here.

The paths are very muddy after the storm, this makes them slippery. Two of the group manage to hit the ground a few times.

The walk is tough; the paths are very steep in some places. Finally we reach base camp, now it's the waiting game. The four wheel drive from the lodge should be here sometime in the next hour or two.

I spent one more day in Chimanimani. I found the place relaxing, a beautiful part of Zimbabwe.

My next destination will be Bulawayo, the Silver Fox.

~~~~~

Chapter 12

Silver Fox

Well here I am again in the lovely city of Bulawayo. The trip to Chimanimani was good, but it's nice to be back here again. It's like home.

Something is new, just outside the entrance gate to the camp-site is a hot dog wagon. The type of thing you see in the lay bys and fairgrounds in England. I didn't expect to see one here.

I go over to the shower block, finding the girl who does the washing I negotiate a price with her. I need some clothes washed.

I go round to check out the hot dog wagon, they're selling hot dogs. They're also doing burgers and bacon sandwiches. This could be my new diet.

There's an amazing collection of sponge cakes, every colour you can imagine. They will certainly not be on my menu.

Well I'm looking a white man arrives; he gets into the wagon, joining the two black girls already there. The owner maybe?

Four o'clock in the afternoon, I'm going to rest, tonight it's the Silver Fox.

Flat on my back in the tent, I stare out of the open door. The garden looks perfect, the weather is perfect, life is perfect.

Six o'clock, showered and changed I start walking to the city. There are two reasons for the early start. One, I will get to the city before dark. Two, the Silver Fox does not charge an entrance fee until after seven o'clock.

I stop off on route picking up my sausage roll. As I walk along I stuff it in my mouth. By the time I reach the nightclub I have eaten it.

Entering the place, I find it pretty much empty. I take a seat at the bar and start the long night into morning drinking session.

Slowly the people start to arrive. Soon I'm joined by Ester, she looks good. I buy her a drink, she's surprised.

A few hours pass, the place is getting a buzz. Most of the girls that I know are here. They are already dancing, pumping their hips at the few males sat near the stage.

Ester's moved off. She's here for business, she needs to hunt. I talk to Angela; she seems to be on form.

Angela is a very pretty and sexy looking girl. Her skin is very light; you could easily take her for a coloured, white and black mix.

She flirts around me, I've seen her do this with all of the men, especially the whites.

After a brief chat she's gone.

Next it's Mercy, she looks good. She asks me how the trip went and how I was.

"It was a good trip, I'm fine".

"How are you?"

I ask her.

"I'm good",

she replies.

We sit and have a drink; she's coming back to the tent tonight she tells me. I won't argue with that.

The evening passes by. I watch the same white men coming in alone or in a group, then leaving with girls.

Talking to the girls they all have the same story. They need to support one or more children they have. The children are usually looked after by their grandmother.

I ask them about using a condom; they all tell me yes most of the time.

"What does most of the time mean?"

They tell me a man will give them more money if they go without.

I say,

"HIV is rampant here, are you not frightened?"

They tell me they are, but the money is more important.

I start to look around, these girls are young. They are risking their lives just to earn extra money. I think most of them will be dead within the next ten years.

Time to go back to the camp-site, it's one o'clock. I tell Mercy I'm going, she quickly follows behind me.

The tent is a steamy place again tonight. Mercy wants to fuck.

It's a beautiful morning, Mercy has already gone. I've showered, next breakfast; I will try the burger van.

The place is crowded, college kids buying the strange coloured cakes.

I order a bacon sandwich from the white man. Soon it arrives with lots of tomato sauce. The first bite is delicious.

I'm joined at the table by the white man.

"Hi my name is Steve, how are you?"

he says.

"I'm good Steve, the names Seb".

He's been here for a little longer than me. He's married to a black woman from here in Bulawayo. He met her in England and they got married there. They live in England and have one young boy. They plan to stay here for one year.

"Where did the van come from?"

I ask him.

"I shipped it over from England",

he replies.

This surprises me; does the cost of shipping it over make it worthwhile? Steve seems to think so.

He would become a good friend. I introduced him to the Silver Fox; we would drink at the Gray's Inn lunchtimes and evenings, and many more of Bulawayo's bars.

Days had passed and I've had no visitors to my tent. That changed tonight. I decided to stay in the camp-site drinking some wine. I hear a girls voice shouting,

"Seb".

I turn to see Angela with another girl. They get to the tent and sit down with me. I offer them some wine, they both refuse.

Angela introduces me to the other girl, her name is Ruth, she is Angela's sister.

We talk for sometime, then without warning Ruth jumps up.

She says,

"I have to go".

Without saying another word, she is walking away, leaving Angela with me.

A short time passes; we are soon in the tent together. I undress Angela to reveal a beautiful body. The breasts are large and firm, with the standard big nipples protruding out.

Condom fitted I'm soon inside her. The love making is good, her pussy lips rub my cock, soon making it come, the tingle is almost unbearable.

That evening Angela went back to the city centre, Silver Fox probably. I stayed in the camp-site.

I was joined for a short time by the security guard. He asks me if she was good. I just laughed.

We got talking about the ladies here in Zimbabwe. He was married with children, that didn't stop him fucking anything else that stayed still long enough.

He told me how he takes a medicine made from the bark of a tree. It will keep the cock hard for hours.

I say to him,

"You do use a condom, don't you?"

His reply shocks me,

"no, it's like chewing a toffee with the paper on".

What the girls told me and what this man's telling me, I can see why HIV is a pandemic here.

One evening in a bar I meet an American, his name is Jake. He's been working here for the past two years. He originally arrived here with the great American organisation, the Peace Corp. I was told kids would collect information; this was then collated by the US government. For what? who knows.

I spent many a good time with Jake in the bars; he would surprise the locals with his fluency in the local Ndebele language.

I have found a few good places for live music. One place is a jazz club in one of the good hotels in the city. This takes place every Thursday. The admission is free, you can come and go and not loose your money.

The other is another hotel. At the back is a garden, no lawn, just concrete with lots of trees. There's a stage and every weekend a live band will play. I was told that they're a police band. The style of music is that of the DR Congo, the high pitch guitar sound.

At both venues, the people, all black except for the odd tourist, would drink and dance the night away.

My six months is going by fast, I only have one month of the visa left. I've noticed a British Airways office here in the city, today I want to go there and ask a few questions.

I want some more time here; I'm going to see if I can change my flight details.

Well I've been inside; the man in there tells me it's not possible to change the ticket. He gave me the reasons, so now I have some thinking to do.

The days are going by quickly. I've been to the Silver Fox most evenings, a few of them with Steve, he seems a little nervous in there.

I've had a few girls back to the tent; I'm starting to notice how jealous they are.

The other day I was with Ester having a drink in the Gray's Inn. In walked Angela with one of her friends. She started arguing with Ester, they were speaking Ndebele. I couldn't understand what it was about.

After Angela left, I asked Ester what it was all about. She told me that Angela told her that I was her boyfriend. Ester would be in trouble if she didn't leave me alone. Ester was a good friend; she was never going to be my bed partner.

Next time I saw Angela I told her some truths. I told her I would be with whom I wanted. I also told that she's very mistaken to think I'm her boyfriend.

I now have one week before the visa is finished.

I've made my decision, I've torn up my ticket, I will not be going to Australia, then on to Fiji.

I will go to Harare for a few days, and then cross into Malawi. Spend a month there, and then return here to Zim.

When do I go? tomorrow.

~~~~~

Chapter 13

Border Hop Malawi

I've reached Mbare bus station in Harare, the trip was a long one.

This bus station seems to hold a bit of a reputation, dangerous being the word I have heard.

Alighting the bus, the first thing I see are policemen with machine guns. Maybe there's a problem here, the security is certainly well established.

I soon find a taxi; the place I want to stay is near the main hospital, an area called the Avenues I think. Well that's what I've told the driver. He seems to know the lodge, but they will tell you they know a place when they have no idea.

The timing is good, daylight is starting to fade. One hour or less and it will be dark, not a good thing in a city you don't know.

The suburb looks nice, there seems to be some embassies here, always a good sign.

We turn into a cul de sac; at the bottom is the lodge I want, well done that taxi driver.

Entering, I find the place is a typical backpacker's lodge. It's just a house; all rooms have been converted into bedrooms. Outside there's an average size garden with lawn. That's where I will put the tent.

Signed in, my first job is to get this tent erected, it's now dark, the garden does have a little floodlighting.

They've built a good bar in the garden; I will spend the rest of the night there.

Morning is here, showered I decide to go into city for some breakfast. I ask one of the locals looking after the lodge if it's possible to walk. He tells me twenty minutes and I will be in the city centre.

I've been walking a few minutes and I see Parirenyatwa Hospital on my right side. Well that gives me a marker in case I get lost. More walking and I find myself outside the American embassy.

I'm not sure where to go from here, I ask a black gentleman for the city centre. He tells me to cross the road and go through a gate he's pointing to. He tells me it's the park, walk to the other end and you will come out in the city centre.

"Is the park safe?"

I ask him.

He assures me it's very safe.

I cross and enter the park, it's fantastically well maintained. They do keep the parks in good order.

Walking through following the footpath, I start to look at all the different types of trees and shrubbery. The grass is well manicured.

I reach the other end of the park; I go through the gates and find what looks like the city centre.

Everywhere is very clean, it looks a nice city. Walking a few more blocks, I find myself in the very centre.

I find a good café, taking a seat I order egg sandwich and coffee. The menu is a mix of typical western food, burgers, beans, mash potato, alongside the African dish, sadza.

Breakfast finished I go out into the city to explore. I find Meikles Hotel, that's in Bulawayo I think, but it's a big store there. Near is a shopping centre, the building is very impressive. The structure is red brick and steel girders, there are three floors. I get a good photo from the third floor inside.

The day goes by very quickly, I soon find myself walking back through the park. Time passes and I'm outside the hospital.

Standing outside is a black woman, we make eye contact. We start to chat, she tells me her name is Fransisca. She's originally from Mozambique.

I ask what she's doing here outside the hospital. She tells me she's got some drugs to sell to one of the doctors. Sounds like a bit of a shady deal going on.

I look at her body, definitely Coca Cola. Her hair is dreadlocks, which look good with her face.

She asks me where I'm staying. I explain to her, one hundred metres then turn right, then down to the bottom of the road, right hand side.

"Would you like to come and have a drink tonight?"

I ask.

"I will come, eight o'clock",

she replies.

I leave her to her business and walk back to the lodge.

Eight o'clock arrives, so does Fransisca, well five minutes late. That's not bad for African time.

We sit in the bar and take a beer. I tell her a little about me, she in return tells me about herself.

She has two sons, twenty and nineteen. They all live together in a suburb called Dzivarasekwa or DZ for short. She tells me it's a long way from the city centre. She seems to be a bit evasive about her work. She buys medicine from Mozambique and sells it to a doctor in the main hospital.

The time is getting late, I ask her about going home? She wants to stay here tonight. I tell her I sleep in a tent, for her it's no problem.

Back in the tent we are soon undressing each other. Kissing her lips soon gives me my erection. Slowly she strokes my cock, my hand moves over the curves of her body. I enter inside her; we spend the next two hours pleasing each other.

Fransisca's already gone; we've arranged to meet in the park lunchtime.

I head into the city. I will get some breakfast and I need to change some travellers cheques. By the time I've finished that it will be time to meet Fransisca.

Lunchtime arrives; I'm sat waiting for Fransisca in the park. Thirty minutes go by, she finally arrives.

African time.

She gives me a big hug and apologises for being late. She tells me that five minutes walk away is a good restaurant, it sells African food.

She leads me to a restaurant, which is very close to the park. Taking a seat we order sadza, greens and meat in gravy.

I eat with my fingers, breaking off a piece of sadza I dip it into the gravy, putting it into my mouth the taste is good.

We both clear our plates; I sit back and rub my stomach contentedly.

Bill paid we make the short walk back to the park. We sit on the grass talking. I tell her I will be leaving for Malawi tomorrow morning; I will be back in Harare in one month.

We spend a few hours together enjoying each others company in the park. The more time I spend with her, the more attached I'm becoming.

The time comes for both of us to go our different ways. I have a very early start tomorrow morning, so I don't want her staying with me tonight.

The evening at the lodge is quite for me. I've arranged for a taxi to pick me up from here at six tomorrow morning. I need some sleep.

It's five o'clock, I have one hour to pack. I will forget the shower, but I need to drop a package.

Face washed, teeth cleaned, bowls emptied, I start to tackle the tent.

There was heavy dew through the night, the tent is quite wet. I don't have time to dry it; I will have to pack it wet.

Six o'clock, everything is packed away. Taxi driver? maybe he's on African time.

A car pulls into the drive, it's my taxi, good timing. Bag and tent thrown into the boot, I hop into the front passenger seat. Soon we are going to Mbare bus station.

There's a bus to Blantyre leaving at seven. I don't have a ticket, I'm just taking a chance that there's a seat.

We arrive at the terminal, paying the fare I collect my bag from the boot. I start to walk into the station, I see the police patrolling with their machine guns hanging from their shoulders. No body comes to hassle me. I ask a man for the bus to Malawi, he points to the far corner.

Reaching the bus I see Blantyre written on the screen. I ask,

"were can I get a ticket?"

I'm directed to a small office. After a few minutes I return to the bus, ticket in hand, I take my seat.

The bus is already full, although I can see a few empty seats. The empty seats are slowly taken.

Looking out of the window I see a clock, the hands point to seven. There's a noise, the engine starts. We're leaving, that's good timekeeping.

The bus reverses out into the station from its parking bay. Slowly it inches toward the exit. Turning right onto the road, we are onto the streets of Harare.

Slowly the driver navigates through the various suburbs, finally reaching the city limits. Now we are on the highway to the border.

Passing through the beautiful countryside, I notice most of the passengers are already asleep.

Time passes, I'm not sure how long we've been travelling, but we've reached the border.

The driver and his assistants tell everyone to vacate the bus. Once outside we collect our luggage.

Following everyone else I find myself in a long queue. Some thirty minutes later I'm at the desk. No questions asked my passport is stamped.

Everyone is walking in one direction, I just follow them. A few minutes and we are at the Mozambique side. The bus is there waiting.

Here it's a little quicker; if you're transiting they just look at your passport. Moving along to customs the search is very minimal.

Putting the bag back in the luggage compartment of the bus, I go and take my seat. Soon we are moving again.

I'm in Mozambique.

The roads are in pretty bad condition, there was a long war here. I think there's a lot of work to do to get the country back on its feet.

Going along I look out of the window, there's grass maybe ten feet in height. I start to imagine how the rebels of Frelimo would have hidden in this bush, along would come vehicles, military, civilian; all would have been an easy target.

We've reached Tete; here we cross the great Zambezi. Tete it's self doesn't look much of a place for a stop over.

The driver ploughs on; he's doing well considering the state of the road.

I ask one of the passengers the time, one o'clock in the afternoon he tells me. The trip is around ten hours, depending on the border crossings. We still have five hours of travel, that means we will be in Blantyre around seven this evening.

The countryside is different but still interesting. There are peoples homes along the route, some traditional, with mud walls and thatch, others with concrete and corrugated tin.

We arrive at the border, Mozambique officialdom finished we go to the Malawi side. Another long queue, finally I get my visa stamp. Customs are a little more thorough this time by the Malawian authorities. My bag gets a close examination.

Back on the bus we drive into the interior of this little country.

I'm in Malawi.

The journey ends, we've pulled into the bus station in Blantyre. Someone tells me it's just before seven; the light is starting to fade.

The only place I have found to stay here is a lodge called Doogle's.

I ask someone for some directions, they tell me to go over there and I will find. A short walk from the bus station, I reach the gates of the lodge.

I manage to put the tent up in the dark. A bit of food and a beer, a good nights sleep, tomorrow will be a new day.

~~~~~

Chapter 14

The Warm Heart of Africa

It was a good night's sleep; I was so tired from the journey. Showered, I'm going into the town. I need some breakfast, but first I will need to cash some travellers cheques.

Walking for a short time I find myself in the centre. It's a beautiful colonial town, small and clean.

I find a travel agent; outside he's displaying the American Express sign.

Entering, I'm told I can change my cheques here. Handing over two cheques, I wait for the lady to complete the transaction.

I notice a poster on the wall promoting Malawi. There's a slogan,

"Malawi, the warm heart of Africa".

I need to travel here for a little time to see if that's correct.

I'm awoken from my dream by a voice; the lady wants me to sign a piece of paper. That done, she hands me my money, thanking her I take my leave.

I need some food; on the other side of the road is a small café. Going inside I take a table, I order toast and coffee.

A short while and the girl arrives with my order. The coffee is fine, the toast? It's still fucking white, I think it licked the flames a couple of times. I call the girl over; I explain that for me toast needs to be brown. She takes it away, a few minutes later returning with good well toasted bread.

Breakfast finished, I spend a few hours wandering around this nice city, town, or village?

Back at the lodge I start to chat with a few people, I do find these places full of people who seem to now all about Africa. I fucking hate them.

One guy who is also from England, Simon, tells me about a visit to the Heineken factory. They do a tour once a week, today is the day of the tour.

He asks me if I would be interested.

"Yes, I'll give it a shot",

I tell him.

We chat for another hour; he's doing the path into Zim then onto Cape Town.

We start the walk to the factory, arriving at the gates we find a few more tourists waiting. They are all from Doogle's, I think it's the only place to stay.

Soon the security guard opens the gate, he stops one black boy. We ask him why? He tells us he's always trying to get in for the free drink.

Fucking hell, free drink that sounds good.

We are taken to the main building by the security guard. We are handed over to the production manager, that's his title he tells us.

The tour starts. We go through a room with big stainless steel vats, and then into the factory area, here is where the bottling happens. We watch conveyors moving hundreds of bottles around, finally into the labs. The whole tour took thirty minutes, not that interesting.

We are taken up a staircase. At the top we enter a big room with a polished table, like a boardroom. Everyone takes a seat; the production manager tells us they will bring us some refreshments.

The free drinks the security guard talked about?

In the corner is a television, they're showing their beer commercials from around the world.
The door opens, in walk two girls with trays full of drink. There's beer, Fanta, Coca Cola, I think the latter two are under licence.

The beer comes with three different coloured labels, green, red and brown. The brown is a dark beer, the green is like we have in England, and fuck knows what the red one is.

We start to drink, the tray is soon empty. The girls return with more bottles. We drink and drink, the one lad is getting very heady.

Finally the party is over; we've been in here for one hour.

Walking back to the lodge, I'm trying to remember how many bottles I've consumed. I think it's eight or nine, all for free. Travellers delight.

The evening is a steady one, no beers, just sat watching the television and reading. Tomorrow I'm heading for the lake.

It's an early start; I'm heading for a place on the lake called Salima. The bus is pretty comfortable, the roads a little potholed.

We are being stopped by what looks like the army. One soldier comes onto the bus. He wants to see the passengers ID cards.

He reaches me. I give him my passport, he scrutinises it, he then asks a few questions. He then wants to know where my bag is. I point to my bag above me in the overhead luggage rack. He prods it a few times, he decides it's too much trouble to lift down and search properly.

After ten minutes we're moving again. This stopping by the police or army happened two more times before we reached Salima.

Getting off the bus I soon get hassle from the local Rastafarian boys. Where do I want to stay? do I want to buy some grass?. I ignore and head to the lodge.

Unfortunately when I get to the lodge, I find the guys running it are also Rasta. There are others who just hang around here, that doesn't make me feel that my tent is secure.

I pay for one nights camping. Tent erected, I go down to the lake shore. To get there I pass through a fishing village, tables full of fish are laid out in the sun to dry.

The lake is beautiful, there are small waves coming in, just like the ocean. There's a beach of yellow sand, it's difficult to believe this is a lake.

I watch the sky change colours before I go back through the fishing village to the lodge.

The music is pumping out Bob Marley; I think sleep tonight will not be easy. A few beers and I decide to go and read in the tent. The night goes on; the music never seems to stop.

This morning I'm on the bus again, this time it's a shorter journey. I've been told to ask for a stop, it's not a town, just a few houses and a shop. Once there I can get a child to show me where I want to go, they will also carry my bag for a few Kwacha.

The conductor prompts me, he says,

"this is your stop".

He points down a path between the grasses.

The bus pulls away. I walk a few metres and I'm approached by a young boy. He asks if he can show me the way. I tell him yes. He takes my backpack and we start walking.

We start to walk down the path; the grass is a metre high. Next we go into a wooded area. I follow the boy; looking at him I notice he and the bag are the same size. We come back out into the sunshine, it's very hot.

We reach a fork, there's a sign for a lodge, not the one I want. The boy keeps walking; this is a long way, no sign of the lake.

Finally I see a sign; we have arrived at Kelly's Lodge. I take my bag from the boy. Giving him some Kwacha, I watch him skip off back the way we'd come.

I'm greeted by a lady; she's in her early thirties. She tells me she's the owner.

She shows me where I can put my tent. The pitch is under some trees. I erect the tent with the door facing the lake.

I'm shown where the toilet and shower is. The shower doesn't have a roof.

There are a number of large rocks on one side; they go down to the lake. The owner's built a nice bar on these, there's also a decking to sit on.

The beach is in good condition, yellow sand and very clean.

Looking back I see there's a few thatched houses that have been built, two are still under construction.

This is a very beautiful place, a few days here definitely. After the last place this is heaven.

The night is spent at the bar talking to Kelly the owner. She's from USA; she's been working on this lodge for two years. She also has her one year old daughter with her.

Looking over the lake the sky is an impressive sight, a massive electrical storm lights up the lake, the sky, and the surrounds.

I finally decide to retire to my bed. Drinking the last mouthful of beer, I wish Kelly goodnight.

I unzip the tent door, this morning I'm rewarded with a beautiful view. Cutting through the trees are shafts of sunlight, looking beyond is the yellow sand, then finally the lake.

I also see new arrivals, there are two more tents.

I go to the shower, stepping inside I close the door behind me. They are trying to grow a plant; I think they want it to form a roof for the shower. Certainly a different shower, looking up and being able to see the blue sky is definitely different.

Shower and breakfast finished, I start to walk along the beach. The sand finishes, now I'm walking on grass. I come to a lagoon, not good for swimming. Nearby are a couple of dugout canoes. Here I get some good photographs, the lake making a great backdrop.

Returning to the lodge I find another new arrival, it's a girl on a bicycle. Walking past her to return to my tent, I stop and greet her.

"Hi my name is Seb, how are you?"

"I'm fine thanks, my name is Fran".

She tells me she's from England, twenty eight years old.

I look at her; the body is good, very fit, blonde hair falls down her back.

She tells me she's been cycling for one year through Africa.

My reaction is,

"wow".

She started one year ago in Morocco; her path was through Mauritania, Senegal, Mali, Burkina Faso, Ghana, and Togo.

In Togo she was robbed by some men on the road, I asked her if this nearly caused her to abandon her trip.

She said;

"yes at first, then I thought about it and decided to keep going".

Brave girl.

Next she went through Benin, Nigeria, and Cameroon.

There's a war in Zaire. She decided that flying to Tanzania was a better option than cycling through a country that was in conflict.

From Tanzania, she now finds herself here in Malawi. Her trip will carry on through Zimbabwe, Botswana and Namibia. The last leg will be down into South Africa, finishing in Cape Town.

I really have to admire this girl; it's a fantastic thing for a lone woman to do.

We spend the evening drinking near the lake shore together. The evening passes, time for bed, unfortunately not together.

I wake from my sleep with the noise of rain hitting the tent. The lightening illuminates the inside of the tent, what follows is the most almighty crack of thunder.

This is a big storm.

I unzip the door of the tent; my face is hit with wind and rain. I quickly zip the door closed. The storm is blowing this way, if I try to open the door the tent will take off or get ripped. I'm trapped; I will just have to sit the storm out.

I lie on my back; the door end of the tent where my feet are is bending in towards my face. If the tent survives this I will be very surprised.

After several hours the storm peaks, the wind drops and the tent remains still. My tent has survived.

Its morning, I unzip the door of the tent. Looking through the trees down to the lake, the morning is calm and bright, it's hard to believe the storm that hit last night.

I'm the only person outside, one of the other tents is gone the other is ripped to pieces. Fran only had a net, there's no sign of her or her bicycle.

I sit in the shade of the trees near my tent, when the occupants of the other two tents appear. They all went into one of the rooms when the storm started; they were too frightened to stay in their tents. The one guy tells me he unzipped the door and the wind ripped through the tent causing lots of damage.

Fran finally appears, she also took refuge in the room.

She asks me,

"why did you stay outside?"

I explain to her that if I opened the tent door the wind would have blown it away. I told her I decided to just sit tight, that proved to be the right decision.

I walk the beach with Fran, we explore together the rest of the day. The evening is spent drinking and chatting to this courageous girl.

Today I'm leaving, my tent and rucksack is on my back. I give Fran a big hug; I then give my farewells to the other people.

I start to walk down the path towards the road. Finally I reach the road, now it's just sitting waiting for the bus to come.

I slept in a few more places on route to the north of the lake, but today I've reached Nkhata Bay. My intention is to return south on the ferry in a few days time.

I find a lodge, very run down, but an authentic feel. This place is supposed to be the very first lodge in Nkhata Bay. The owner is a Malawian; he's a wrinkled old man in his sixties. He has four wives, the latest being from Tanzania, she looks about seventeen. She sits with a child sucking on her breast, the child is his.

The ground for camping isn't good; I decide to take a room. They're cheap.

I spend a few days exploring the lake and surroundings of Nkhata Bay.

I also find cassava being fried here, they're like giant chips. In one restaurant owned by a German I order sima, that's the Malawian equivalent to sadza. When it arrives I find it's brown not white, wholemeal version I suppose. When I taste it, I do prefer it to the white.

Today I go to the port, near are small boats with outboard motors. These are like a bus service to parts of the lakeside that's not accessible by road.

"Kelly had told me about this when I was staying at her lodge".

I board one of the boats; there must be fifteen people already on board. After a short time we are sailing out of Nkhata Bay. The boat bumps around a lot, I hope it's safe, no life jackets.

We sail close to the shore, every now and then we stop to drop people off.

The places might be just one, two, or three thatched huts with a small beach, one even has a waterfall.

To the back of these places is a green wall, not quite vertical but almost. Everywhere on these steep slopes is cassava, planting and harvesting must be very precarious.

Finally we're landing at the end of the lake. The beach is huge, there's baobabs growing on the beach, makes for some good photographs.

I find that there's no guest house here, the boat goes back tomorrow. I'm stuck.

I didn't bring my tent; I will have to sleep on the beach tonight, under the stars.

I'm disturbed from my sleep with noise. Sitting up I see people, they're carrying cargo. There's no electricity, the only lighting is natural and tonight the moon is hidden. Looking into the darkness I make out some lights, it's a large boat. One person comes over to me, I ask what it is?

"It's the ferry",

he tells me.

Of course, it traverses the lake. I could get on, but it will be daybreak soon. Sleeping here on the beach is fine, I will just keep my fingers crossed that it doesn't rain.

Sat on the beach, I watch the sky change from black to blue. The sun gives a bit of warmth to my body. Being this close to the lake is quite cold.

Finally people start to arrive for the small boat back to Nkhata Bay. Once we are full the outboard is started and we start to move.

The trip back was the same scenery, but still worth the second look. Next time, if there is a next time, I will bring the tent. You could stop at any of these little beaches.

Reaching our destination, my first stop is for some food. Once finished I walk down to the lodge. Same room as before, I drop off the bag. I also recover my tent, they were storing it for me.

There's a guy from South Africa staying here. Chatting to him he seems a bit of an oddball, likes his weed.

He tells me he's feeling sick, I must confess he doesn't look well. I tell him to get some medical help.

Opposite the lodge in the same grounds is the owner's house. His last wife before the young Tanzanian girl lives there.

She's waved to me a few times, I've always acknowledged. Today she's calling me over.

I go over; she gives me a seat on the porch. At close quarters I see how young she is too. Another girl comes from the inside of the house; I'm introduced to her sister.

The day moves along quickly, a few beers and soon I'm putting my head on the pillow.

Today I'm in Mzuzu; I decided to have two nights here before I get the boat from Nkhata Bay.

Travelling without a guide book makes things a little more interesting. I notice a shop front, painted on the window is Tourist Information. Crossing the road I go to the door, it's locked. Looking through the glass, I see no sign of life.

I walk around to the back of the building; I see a group of people. I approach them. They greet me, I in return greet them. I ask them if they know when the tourist office is open, they have no idea. They tell me they have the offices above.

"Do you know where there's a budget hotel?"

I ask them.

After some deliberation, one of them tells me he will show me. The man's name is Stanley. He wants to carry my bag, taking it from me he puts it on his shoulder. He's very short; the bag looks too big for him.

The first hotel is too expensive, the next one is full. He takes me to four more places until I finally say,

"yes".

I have to twist his arm to make him accept a drink. He's just spent a long time showing me hotels and carrying my bag.

Sitting on the steps of the hotel drinking soda, he tells me he's a journalist. I ask him for which paper? He tells me that it's for the government. If a minister is going off to do a speech or a ceremony, they will call for one of these journalists to be in attendance. When he has written the article the minister will proof read it.

Free press?

Before he leaves, he asks me if I would like to come to his house tomorrow. I accept the invitation.

Tomorrow has arrived. Stanley is at the hotel to collect me, no African time for him, good man.

We are soon on a bus, to where? I've no idea. After a journey of thirty minutes we arrive at a small town or suburb. A short walk and we arrive at Stanley's house. The house is small and modest; inside I'm taken to a lounge. The room is no more than three metres by four metres. In one corner is a small music system, there are two sofas and two chairs, not much room for anything else.

I'm introduced to his children, one boy and two girls, they're very polite. He tells me his wife is away on a seminar.

The table is laid with food, sima, cassava, green vegetables and meat in a soup. Large bottles of ice cold Coca Cola and Fanta are also waiting to be consumed.

Me being the guest I'm first to eat, the food is good. We spend time talking, he tells me about is life, his job, his family.

Time passes, I need to get back to the town before it gets dark. Stanley and his children escort me to the bus terminal. Once there they put me on the right bus. The bus pulls away, I leave them there waving. What a kind man and what a lovely family he's got.

Early bus this morning and I'm back in Nkhata Bay. I get back to the lodge, same room. How is this possible? Easy, this place is so grim very few tourists use it. They all prefer the comfort of the other lodges.

The boy tells me the South African guy is in hospital with malaria. I see the owner's wife beckoning me. I walk over.

She says,

"where have you been?"

I tell her that I've been in Mzuzu.

She tells me her sister is in hospital,

"would you like to visit her?"

"Yes, what time?"

I reply,

"this afternoon at two o'clock",

she says.

I'm not sure if she will be working on African time?

I'm walking towards the hospital with Chiwa. We take a leisurely stroll, finally reaching the entrance.

As we walk in I see lots of women preparing food outside. The hospital kitchen perhaps? Chiwa tells me it's the relatives of people inside.

"Doesn't the hospital feed the patients?"

I ask her.

She tells me they do, but the food is very little and of poor standard. For this reason the family will come and cook for the sick person.

We walk around the main building to some prefabricated buildings, once inside I can see they are wards. Her sister is in a room with six other people, all look very ill.

Her sister sits up to greet us, I don't recognise her. She's very thin, before she looked so pretty. I'm shown her X-ray, they are of her chest. There seems to be spots all over her lungs, or is that just in the developing?

This girl is very ill, Chiwa tells me it's TB. Last time I saw her she was thin, now she's like a straw. I wonder if it's HIV.

We talk for a short while; I can see the girl is too tired so I take my leave. I wish her to get well soon.

Well I'm here I will go and visit the South African. I go through the main entrance doors into the main hospital building. I'm taken aback at what I see. There are bodies everywhere, sick people line the corridors.

I ask a nurse for the room where the white man is? She takes me through the bodies of the sick to a room.

Entering I find him, he looks pretty shit. He's got a vein spiked with a needle; a tube runs up to a bag which is hook onto a metal stand.

Looking around, there are four other people in here. He tells me they also have malaria.

During our chat he needs to relieve himself. Dragging his body out of the bed he pulls the heavy metal stand behind him. When he returns he falls back into the bed. I think it's time to go so I leave him in peace. He thanks me for coming; he has no other visitors so the days must be long.

Walking back I revisit what I have just seen. Food needs to be brought in by family, otherwise you starve. No bed for a sick person. Very few staff to look after the patients. People are always complaining about the hospitals in England, compared to this we are very lucky with the system we have.

I've managed to get a ticket for the ferry heading south to Monkey Bay. It travels overnight so sleeping will be on the deck. The boat is famous for it's breakdowns I've been told. Originally there where two, the other was finally beyond repair, so it's now used for spares.

It's not a big boat, but they certainly overload it. Sitting up on top looking at the lake, it looks like the ocean. The waves make the ship toss a little, walking about you need to hold on to something.

Watching the sun disappear and the sky turn to black, I get a new view of the lake. There's a full moon, this reflects on the lake lighting our way.

Lying on the floor of the top deck, I look up into the sky, it's full of stars. No pollution from the lighting of buildings or street lights, just the moon.

We make the first stop. It's one of the islands, Likoma I think. The other is Chizumulu.

The boat is too big to go near the shore and there's no jetty. A small launch comes out to collect the departing passengers. The launch is bobbing up and down. The people climb down a vertical ladder that's about two metres in height. The whole thing looks so dangerous, doing it in daylight is difficult but in the dark, suicidal. This is re-enacted again for the other island.

More stops are made at Nkhotakota, Salima and a few other places before we reach Monkey Bay.

It's early morning, I've decide not to stay here. I'm going to a place called Zomba. It's on route back to Blantyre.

The bus moves along at a good speed, making the compulsory stops for the police, military, and anyone else who wants to stop us.

Arriving in the town of Zomba, I decide to sleep here tonight. Tomorrow I will go up to the plateau.

This morning, trying to get transport to the top is not easy. Taxis don't go there, just private vehicles and trucks.

The guest house I was staying in last night has arranged something for me. His friend is driving some people up there; I can squeeze in with them.

The car is an old Ford Anglia, it winds its way up the tarmac road. Finally we arrive at some big hotel, the views are fantastic.

My budget doesn't allow me to stay there; I walk a few hundred metres down the road to a camp-site.

Walking through a gate, I find myself in a small field surrounded by forest. Over to one side is a brick building, there seems to be a flue coming out of the roof.

I find the gentleman who looks after the site, or he finds me. He tells me I can pitch anywhere, there are no other clients.

Tent pitched I go to check the toilet shower facility. The brick building houses five doors. Opening the first door I find a boiler, it's heated with wood, that's what the flue is for. Opening the next door I find a toilet, the next is the same, a toilet. The next two doors are showers.

I start to explore the place, it's beautiful. The views are fantastic. It's obviously high, every now and then clouds roll in and you are walking in fog or mist. I notice when this happens it gets cold.

I decide to get back to the camp-site; I didn't see any lighting there.

I was right; there are lights in the showers and toilets but nowhere else.

The shower is hot water, the system works well. I can see why it's needed, now the sun has disappeared it's fucking cold. I only have a lightweight sleeping bag; this could be a punishing night.

I go to the big hotel for a few beers this evening, there's no other option. Walking there you certainly need a torch, it's pitch black.

After a few hours drinking, I'm heading back to the camp-site. I notice a mist, a bit like fog. The temperature's dropped a few more degrees.

Getting back to the tent I find it's very wet, like it's been raining. This feels like a November night in England.

The night was cold; my sleeping bag wasn't thick enough. I decide that one more night up here will be my limit.

I had a stroke of luck with transport down to the town. A bus back to Blantyre beckons me.

~~~~~

Chapter 15

The Girl The Bicycle The Tea Plantations

It's Saturday, I've been back here in Blantyre three day's. I decided not to stay at Doogle's. Opposite is a large building, it's some kind of hotel, a bit run down, full of black Africans. No tourists stay here, I think they like the security of Doogle's.

Talking to a few of the people here, I find a lot of Nigerians are renting the rooms. Most are doing business of some kind. Big trucks would deliver boxes at strange times, midnight early morning. Rooms are being used for storage. What was in the boxes? I've no idea.

I went for another tour of the beer factory, didn't seem as good as before.

Today I've got a new plan. Mount Mulanje, that's where I'm going. The bus will take me to the town of Mulanje and then it's a walk up the hill to the plateau. Similar to the trek in Chimanimani.

I'm not sure how long I've been travelling, I'm sure it's less than two hours. We've reached the town, I will sleep here tonight. First thing tomorrow morning I will head up to the plateau.

Booked into a small basic room for the night, I start to wander around the town.

Walking to the far end, I get my first look at Mulanje. Most of it is covered in a layer of cloud or mist. They call it ''Island in the Sky"; the way the peak pokes out above the cloud does make it look like an island.

To the base are tea plantations, they rise on up the side of the hills. The whole thing is made for a photograph.

I'm starting to feel a little thirsty, I head for a café. Walking in I get a big surprise.

I hear a voice.

"Hi Seb, how are you?"

I turn, looking over into the corner where the voice came from, it's Fran. I think we're both happy to see each other again.

She's sat on her own; I ask if I can join her?

"Of course, it's great to see you again Seb".

It's common to bump into people again when you are travelling, but there's something special about this one.

Over coffee we sit and chat. She asks me what I'm doing here.

"I want to hike up to Mulanje",

I tell her.

She asks if she can join me.

"Yes, I would like that very much",

I say to her.

We finalise times to meet, we decide breakfast here in this café would be a good rendezvous point.

We finally part company; she wants to do some laundry I want to drink beer.

Last night was pretty slow; I think I was sleeping by nine o'clock. Today I feel fresh, ready for some walking.

Arriving at the café I don't see Fran. Taking a seat I sit and wait. The waitress comes over; I tell her I will order later.

In through the door walks Fran, I whistle to her, she's already spotted me. She joins me at the table.

"Are you ready for this?"

I say.

"Yes most definitely",

is her reply.

Who am I kidding, this girl is fit the hike will be no problem for her. For me, that's the unknown.

Over breakfast we talk, she asks,

"where's your tent and bag?"

I explain to her that I've left it in the guest house I was staying in. I in turn ask her about her bicycle? She replies,

"I've left it with the owner of the place I was staying".

The hike will keep us on the plateau for two nights. There are wooden huts to sleep in; these are staffed by forestry workers.

Fran says,

"I've bought this food for both of us".

Fuck, I'd forgotten about food, there will be nothing up there. This girl is a little gem.

I look in the bag; she's bought some pasta, rice, a few tins of corn beef, tomatoes and a few other bits and pieces.

Breakfast finished we go to find some transport to the forestry station.

Asking someone, they point us in the direction of some cars. They tell us that the cars go to where we need.

When we get to the cars we are told a price, it seems a bit high. The forestry station is supposed to be about nine kilometres drive. The man explains that this is a private taxi, I ask him about a shared taxi?

"Yes this will be cheaper, but you will have to wait for it to fill up",

he says.

After a quick discussion with Fran, we both decide to go now. Private taxi it is, sod the expense.

With in no time we are dropped off at the forestry station. Walking over towards the office, we're approached by a man claiming to be a guide. We tell him we will talk to him when we've paid the entrance fees to the park.

Inside the office I ask the man about the guide outside. He tells me he's an official guide; we can make our own arrangements with him. Paying for the entrance fees, we leave the office, thanking the man on our way out.

Outside we sit with our potential guide. He tells us his rates for each day, they are ridiculously cheap. We pay him when we return to the forestry station at the end of the trip.

Everything signed sealed and delivered we start marching. The track is flat, then after thirty minutes we are going up. It gets steep and very muddy.

The further we go up the more stunning the view looking down becomes.

We pass a man; he's very small in stature. Balanced on his head are two planks of timber. They must be seven metres in length and very thick. They've been cut fresh, they are still wet, and they must be very heavy.

He's barefoot, the speed he's moving on the slippery surface makes me feel useless. More of these men pass us on our way to the top, some carrying three or four planks.

Our guide tells us that there is a lot of logging at the top. Everything is brought down by hand. These men get paid per plank; they make several journeys per day.

We are at the top of the plateau; the walk up was very strenuous. It's nice to be walking on flat ground again.

Richard our guide starts to tell us about the place, the plants, the trees, he's very informative. He shows us a round yellow fruit, we taste it. The taste is very nice.

There's a lot of forestry up here, it's a beautiful place. Looking over towards the summit of the mountain, I just see a mass of cloud.

The day passes, we've walked some distance. Richard points to a hut, he tells us that's where we will be staying tonight.

Looking up at the sky the timing is good, the night is drawing in and rain looks possible.

We reach the hut; no one else is there except the two staff. Entering the hut you feel the warmth of the log fire that's burning in the fireplace.

There's mattresses thrown around the room, one corner is clear, that's the cooking area.

The staff warmed some water for us to bathe, it's well needed. The temperature's plummeted outside.

Fran showered first, when I returned from having my shower, I found her busy over the stove cooking.

When she was finished, she gave Richard and I a big plate of pasta covered in tomato sauce. It was delicious.

The night is spent talking around the fire, no one else arrives, and we have the place to ourselves.

The eyes started to close; it was time to roll over onto a mattress.

Today I go outside the hut, it's cold but the sky is pure blue in colour. No shower, just a bit of cold water thrown on the face.

Breakfast finished we are soon walking. Following Richard we see waterfalls, small streams, tasting the water it's cold and fresh to our lips.

The peace and tranquillity of this place is extraordinary. The only sounds are those created by nature.

The hours, the minutes, the seconds, go by. Another day is approaching night. With expert timing again, Richard gets us to the hut before it gets dark.

Entering this one we find it full, no there's one small bedroom with two single beds.

I let Fran bathe and change first, this is tactical. She will cook the food well I'm showering.

I come out of the bedroom feeling clean. I look for Fran; yes she's busy cooking the food, tactics worked.

Within a short time we are eating a kind of corned beef hash, the corned beef being mixed in with the rice. Another ten out of ten for this girl.

After food is finished I go outside the hut. There's no light pollution here, so the night sky must be very clear.

Looking up the sky is full to overflowing with stars. They seem so close you feel you can reach out and pick one.

I feel someone near me, turning I see Fran. We look into the sky together; she like me is completely stunned with the view.

The night sky had taken our minds off the temperatures outside. When we come back down to earth, we make a quick run back into the hut and the heat of the open fire.

Time came for sleeping; the day was another exhausting one. I think we will both be in a comatose state soon.

"Would you like me to wait outside?"

I say to Fran.

"No it's OK",

she replies.

The bedroom is very small; the beds are only two feet apart.

I'm undressed and in bed quickly. I watch Fran undress in the candlelight.

She removes all of her clothing except her panties. Her body is a perfect shape, her breast solid and round. She slips on a tee shirt; this makes her look even sexier. Pulling back the bedclothes she drops into bed.

We talk for a time, we hold hands, does she want me? should I move on this girl?

All the signs are there, but I stay put, finally we both fall into a deep sleep.

Perhaps the saying is true, once black no turning back.

I open my eyes; first thing I see is Fran looking at me. I put out my hand, she takes it. Her fingers interlock with mine, we stay like this for what seems to be hours, but it's only minutes.

She gets out of bed, removing the tee shirt I see her nipples sticking out. This is starting to make the blood pump; I'm feeling my body start to tingle.

I turn my thoughts away from her, I talk to her about the day we have in front of us. It works, the feelings start to subside.

We are on the trail again, this time we are heading back down to the forestry station.

Richard says,

"this way down is interesting".

I wonder what he means by that.

Walking along, I keep seeing Fran stood naked in front of me. Perhaps she's disappointed that we didn't make love? Perhaps I should have asked her if she wanted to. all these questions with no answers.

We come to a small river, maybe fifteen metres wide. Richard tells us we have to cross it, there's no way around.

This was his interesting thing he was talking about perhaps.

We remove our sandals, slowly putting our feet in the water we realise how fucking cold it is.

We start to wade across; it's not deep, just above the knee. It's surprising how much force the water is generating; you can feel it pushing your legs. We get to the other side, everybody is dry.

The walk takes us through more forest, open savannah and once more to a river.

This one is much bigger, maybe twenty five to thirty metres across. The flow of the water is much stronger, and there's a waterfall ten metres downstream. I go to check the fall; it must be a six metre drop.

Sandals off we step into the water, again the coldness gives you a jolt. I start to wade across; it's like the other crossing, just above the knee. The difference with this one is the force; I can feel it pushing me over.

If you slip, the force of the water will wash you over the falls. I think we should have ropes to get us across, but we haven't, so get on with it.

Richard tells Fran to turn back and wait for him. He comes to me; we hang on to each other. Slowly we inch our way to the other side.

Richard starts to wade back to where Fran is sat waiting for him. Soon they are making the crossing. I look at the water pushing them both, this is fucking dangerous.

I'm very happy when I see both of them sat with me on the riverbank. The water wasn't deep, but the power you could definitely feel pushing you over.

More walking and we move into another forest, the track starts to descend, the final leg I think.

We reach the forestry station, paying Richard his hard earned wages we thank him and start to walk away.

He shouts,

"wait, I have organised your transport down".

My first thought is,

how much is this going to cost me?

Richard takes us to a car, there's already three people sat inside waiting. He's organised a shared taxi, the cost is a lot cheaper than we paid to get up here.

We thank him again, leaving him behind we go back to the town.

I spend one more night in Mulanje, one night in Blantyre, next stop Harare.

Fran set off from Mulanje; she told me she was going to Zimbabwe.

Will we meet again? anything is possible.

~~~~~

Chapter 16

Dzivarasekwa to Kariba

I arrived last night here in Harare, back at the same lodge. I want to go into the centre, get some breakfast. After I will see if I can contact Fransisca, I would like to see her tonight.

A gentle stroll through the park, I find myself in the city centre. My first appointment of the day is with a cup of coffee and some toast.

Finding a small café, I sit down and give my order to a pretty ebony princess. Customer service is good; I'm soon munching and drinking my way through breakfast.

Breakfast finished, I find a telephone kiosk. Dialling Fransisca's number, I wait. The call is answered, it's Fransisca.

A brief chat, we will be meeting each other tonight at the lodge.

My next stop is to find a tall building I can get into; I want an Ariel view of the city. I did this in Bulawayo.

I ask a few locals, no one seems to be able to help me. Finally a young student girl points to a tall building.

"You can take the stairs; there you will have a good view",

she tells me.

I ask her about security? she says,

"yes there's a guard, just get one of the names from the board outside, tell him you are visiting that office".

I make my way to the building, looking at the board I choose, Thomas Kivu, Tour Operators, that will do.

I go to the desk where the security guard is sat; he's too occupied reading The Herald. I think that's the government's paper.

"I'm visiting Thomas Kivu, Tour Operators",

I say to him.

He doesn't even look up, just waves me on.

The building isn't that high, only four floors I think. I reach the top; the views are good, the girl was right.

My next stop is the African Unity Square; I think that's what they call it. Here you can sit under the Jacaranda and watch people going about their daily routine. Nearby are the parliament buildings, very brightly painted white.

Looking at one of the city clocks, I realise time is slipping away. I need to start my walk back to the lodge. In just over two hours Fransisca will be arriving.

Walking back through the park, I notice people enjoying the late afternoon sunshine. Coming out at the entrance facing the American Embassy, I cross the road.

Walking down towards the hospital, I look at the different types of houses. This would've been a white suburb before independence. Now I only see black faces, so things have changed for the better.

Passing the hospital I cross the road, walking down the cul-de-sac to the lodge.

I check the time, a quick shower and change of clothes should be possible before Fransisca arrives.

Sat having a beer I hear a voice, it's Fransisca. She sits with me and we talk over a few beers. She looks good, I want her tonight.

"Are you staying tonight?"

I ask her.

"Yes if it's OK with you?"

she replies.

Fucking definitely OK with me, she looks great.

During the conversation we start to talk about where she lives.

I say to her,

"can I come and visit one day?"

She says,

"why don't you come and stay with me?"

It's a good idea; instead of paying for camping here at the lodge I could give her the money.

I ask her what her two sons would think of it.

"It will be no problem",

she replies.

We make the decision, we will go tomorrow afternoon. She's got some work to do in the morning.

Making love in the tent that evening was fantastic; this lady knows how to please.

Fransisca's already gone to work; I have to meet her in the park at midday. The tent is packed and my belongings are stuffed into my rucksack.

I'm not sure whether to walk or not? I've never counted, but it must be ten blocks from here to the park.

Time's arrived for me to leave the lodge. I've decided to walk. The day is quite hot, but the exercise will do me good.

I reach the park, falling down onto the grass I wait for Fransisca. I don't have to wait long, here she is.

We both sit on the grass resting. Talking about her day, she tells me it's been a good one.

After ten or fifteen minutes we both pull our bodies off the floor. I follow her to find a taxi to her home.

A few more blocks and we're getting into an ET, emergency taxi to Dzivarasekwa.

We leave the city, the landscape is green. Fransisca gives me a guided tour, pointing out different things.

One area she tells me is very dangerous; they found a body in those bushes last week, pointing at some undergrowth. A man was found with machete cuts all over his body.

We reach a built up area, a small town. Fransisca tells me we've arrived. The houses are of different types, the small roads are tarmac and there are no pavements.

We get out of the taxi, I follow Fransisca. I notice everyone is looking at me, Fransisca says,

"they are not accustomed to seeing whites here".

My first thought is,

Hope they don't want to fucking eat me.

We reach Fransisca's house, it's very small with an unkempt garden. We enter into what is the lounge and kitchen, three metres square.

There's some cooking pots and a small charcoal stove in one corner. In the other is a fridge, the remainder of the room is filled with two small sofas.

One more door leads to her bedroom, inside is a double bed and a chest of draws.

I ask her where the boys sleep.

"On the two sofas",

is her reply.

I sit on the sofa talking to her; she's cooking food for tonight. I try not to get in her way.

I watch her carry the stove outside, I decide to follow her. Soon she's got the charcoal glowing. Putting a big pot of water to boil, we go back inside.

We carry on talking; I ask her where her boys are?

"One has gone to Mozambique",

she tells me.

"Why?"

I ask her.

"He's taken some clothes to sell",

she replies.

She explains that they can make good profit. Here the clothes are cheap, in Mozambique they are expensive.

"What about the other one?"

I ask.

"He's about some where",

she says.

I look at what this woman has, nothing. Her husband left her to fend for herself with two young boys a long time ago. Life is tough here.

The boy does arrive in the evening. A quick shake of my hand, not many words. He eats his food so quickly; you would think he's not eaten for days.

Ten minutes in the house, he's gone. Fransisca tells me he's always like this. He wants to be outside with his friends, sometimes not returning home. I think she's worried about him. Is this not the same for parents in England? I think it is.

Fransisca wants to go to bed, I follow her. I lie in the bed watching her undress. When she's naked she wraps a towel around herself.

She says,

"I'm going to take a shower".

Ten minutes or more pass. The bedroom door opens, it's Fransisca.

She removes the towel, standing in front of me naked.

She starts to apply a lotion to her body, just watching her do this is a turn on. Her breasts are not large but the nipples are huge. They seem to get bigger as she massages the lotion around her breasts.

I notice she's wearing some decorative beads around her waist. I don't remember seeing them before, but the tent is dark. They make her look very sexy.

Finally she's complete, she joins me in bed.

We start to touch each other. She moves down, putting her lips around my cock. The feeling is good; this lady catches me in all of the right places.

She moves on top of me, putting my cock inside her. Holding her hips I feel the beads, every now and then they glide over my stomach.

The love making was good. Fransisca moved her body in time with mine, both having our climax together.

Fransisca's gone to the city, she needs to work. Me, I will wander around this township.

People seem to stare at me; I suppose they wonder why a white man is here. The place is not bad, I can't see any open sewage, and the roads are tarmac, even if they are full of potholes.

After a few hours I walk back to the house. Sitting in the front garden, I'm soon joined by lots of children. I get some nice photographs.

It's five o'clock; I'm sat in the house. In walks Fransisca, she looks tired.

"Would you like a beer?"

I ask her.

"That would be so nice",

she replies.

She tells me there's a local bar a few minutes walk away.

"Let's go".

I say to her.

She was right, a few minutes walk and we reach the bar. It certainly is a local's bar; quite a few of them are well drunk.

We manage to find a couple of seats outside. Giving the man an order for two Zambezi and some chicken, we carry on our conversation.

"Fransisca, do they get much fighting here?"

I ask her.

"Weekends and evenings yes, this time of the day, no",

she says.

Our order arrives, the beer is very cold and it cools the dry throat. The chicken tastes good too.

A few more beers are taken; we then go back to the house for another night of love making.

I spent a few more days with Fransisca, before I headed back to the city with her one morning.

"Why?"

I want to go to a place called Kariba.

Approximately a four hour journey and I reach Kariba Town.

The books tell you to be careful here. There's elephant and Cape buffalo wandering around the town.

Night time you are advised not to walk because of the Cape buffalo. These things kill a lot of people.

Looking over to some waste ground I see elephants, no more than five hundred metres away. It's true what they say.

I ask someone for directions to the Municipal Camp-Site.

"A few minutes walking down there",

I'm told.

I'd read that the elephants came into the camp-site day or night, until they put a wire fence around it.

I get to the entrance; the place is surrounded by a wire fence ten feet high.

Walking in I find the person looking after the place. She shows me where I can pitch my tent. Within ten minutes the tent is up, my belongs are inside.

The place is situated in a wooded area, it's very cool. I hear first, and then see, monkeys.

There's safari tents erected if you don't have your own, I'm pitched a few metres from one of them.

I think there are a few more hours of light, so I will go back into the town for a beer.

I sit and drink a few bottles of Zambezi in a small bar. I'd forgotten about getting back before it got dark. Walking out of the bar I realise how fucking dark it is, no street lights here.

I start to walk towards the camp-site; it's not even three hundred metres I don't think. I can't see anything, the moon is hidden, it's pitch black.

As I walk I hear sounds, fuck I'm shitting myself. It's so black I could easily bump into one of these fucking buffalo.

A short time and I reach the gate. I'm so happy to be back inside.

I get into the tent; the only light is from my torch. Door flap zipped up; I listen to the nocturnal sounds outside until I fall asleep.

The fucking monkeys are so noisy they've woken me up. Putting my head out of the tent, I see the little bastards in the trees making a din.

I get my body into action, first thing is a shower. After that I will go and explore a little.

Returning to my tent, I get a big shock. Stood outside the safari tent next to mine is Fran.

"Fran",

I shout out.

She turns and looks. I think she's very surprised too. We meet and give each other a big hug, and an even bigger kiss.

We stand outside her tent; she tells me what she's been doing. I in turn tell her what I've been doing.

"Not the bit about Fransisca".

The door of her tent is open, she lets me look inside. There's a small table and chair, and a safari bed. It all looks very comfortable.

We carry on talking. I think we are both feeling excited to have bumped into each other again.

We both jump, a fucking monkey storms out of her tent screaming. In one hand it's carrying her loaf of bread. I didn't see the fucking thing go in there.

We both laugh, it's only bread fortunately, nothing valuable.

"I've been here a couple of days, tomorrow I want to get the boat and travel down the lake",

she says.

"What are you doing today Seb?"

she asks.

I tell her,

"I want to go to the dam".

She asks if she can come with me, I tell her that's fine.

Tents zipped up we start to make our way to the dam.

Walking along we forget how hot the sun is. Talking about the rest of her trip and mine, the distance is nothing.

We reach the dam, the view is pretty spectacular. From this slightly elevated position, I get some good photographs. The lake to one side, the long drop to the river on the other side, the background is Zambia.

We walk down to the road, following it until we are stood on top of the dam. More photos of the lake, crossing to the other side you look down into the river. It's a long way down. I see two hippos enjoying the cool water.

Today is complete, some good photographs, and good company.

This morning I'm escorting Fran to the ferry. Yesterday was a great day; she's good to be with. I'm going to miss her.

Walking along I keep wondering why I didn't sleep with this girl last night. We're very close now, I'm sure if I'd made the move, we would've made love.

What must she be thinking?

Seb must be gay?

Stop dwelling on it you twat, it's to late now.

We reach the terminal; the boat is already moored there. Fran goes to purchase her ticket, I look after her bicycle.

After a few minutes she returns. We talk for another ten minutes, then she's called over, the ferry is ready to leave.

Big hugs and kisses we pull away from each other. She boards the ferry, we keep eye contact. We wave to each other, the ferry moves off. Still we wave until the ferry is too far away. She's gone.

She told me she will go to Vic Falls, then into Botswana.

Will I see her again? Anything is possible.

I spend another two days here in Kariba; it was never the same once Fran had left.

Yes I saw monkey, elephant, hippo, buffalo, but the thing I wanted to see was no longer here.

I need to get back to Harare, I want to see Fransisca.

Back in DZ I'm enjoying life with Fransisca. The love making is good; being in her company is good.

The other son has returned from Mozambique, the one I'd met is going there tomorrow. Not much of a family life, but it's survival for people here. If they don't do it they starve.

Time moves on, so must I. Today I'm going back to Bulawayo. Fransisca son will take me to the main highway; there I can get on one of the buses. This saves me going into Mbare.

I say good bye to Fransisca. I give her the address for the camp-site in Bulawayo. She leaves for the city; I follow the boy to the highway. Next stop the city of Silver Fox.

~~~~~

Chapter 17

Gray's Inn

Here I am back home at the camp-site in Bulawayo. I arrived last night from Harare. I didn't go into city, I was too tired.

Showered, I go to see if I can get a bacon sandwich for breakfast from Steve's van.

Steve's here, I give him my order and sit at the single table he's got for customers.

Ten minutes pass, I'm eating a nice bacon sandwich with a black coffee. This is a good way to start the day.

Steve joins me, he looks well. He tells me business is going well, he's enjoying his life right now.

"Have you been to Silver Fox?"

I ask him.

"No Seb, last time was with you",

"my wife is not happy with me going there",

he replies.

I say,

"why Steve?"

He says,

"Because it's full of prostitutes".

Lots of people condemn the place for this reason. The other discotheques in the city are much better, like Holiday Inn. The girls in Silver Fox also use those. So the prostitutes are everywhere.

Breakfast finished, I tell Steve I need to go into the city. As I walk away, Steve says,

"Seb, are you going to The Fox tonight?"

I laugh to myself. His wife is giving him problems, but he still wants to go to The Fox. I tell him I will be there around seven o'clock.

"I will see you there",

he replies.

I start my hike to the city centre; I've a few things to do. I need some money, which means a queue in Barclay's Bank. I need to do some shopping for toiletries. Also I want to make some calls back to England.

Zimbabwe's telephone network is good. In Bulawayo you will find telephone booths in the street, just like we have in England. They are all functioning and reasonably clean.

Joining the queue in Barclay's, I slowly see the counter coming closer to me.

The teller is a white man, in his mid twenties. He usually serves me; we always have a short conversation.

He was born here in Bulawayo but wants to get out. He seems to think South Africa would be a better place.

"This country is finished for the white man",

he says.

Maybe not finished, you just have to start sharing more. The whites really can't accept that they're the minority.

All of my jobs are completed, next stop Gray's Inn, I need a drink.

Taking a chair in the lounge, I order a Lion. The waiter comes back with a glass and a bottle of Lion Lager on a silver tray. Looking at his uniform, it still looks like it's not been washed.

I'm joined by Fred, this man I've met in here several times. He's an Englishman, from Yorkshire I think.

He came here in the sixties, working for the railway company. He's a little grieved to see the black people taking control of their country.

He seems to hate the English, Harold Wilson especially. He blames the Labour Government of the time for giving the country back to the blacks.

He's seventy, a short man, but very fit for his age. He seems to be fucking black girls still, so he can't be totally against the blacks.

I remember him telling me a quote the white Rhodesians used.

"You can take an African out of the bush, but you cannot take the bush out of an African".

A little bit racist I think. I suppose life was good for these people, now they don't have the dominance they had before.

He lives on a pension which is eroding yearly. He thinks that if the country was run by the white man, things would still be good for him. He's probably right, but things would be a lot worse for the blacks.

Fred leaves, now I'm at peace, not for long. Joining me is Steve; I ask him what he would like to drink?

"Bohlingers please Seb".

Steve's a nice guy, very generous. He told me that his wife and he have come here for a new start.

They live in London; his wife had an affair with another black Zimbabwean who she was working with.

He tells me that she swears they only kissed.

"Do you believe her?"

I ask him.

"No I caught her with her hand inside his trousers".

There's a little bit of anger in his face when he tells me this. I think they have a lot of bridge building to do.

Steve tells me he left her, but returned because of his young son. They came up with the idea of one year here in her home town, try to patch things up. They're living with her parents in a nice suburb of Bulawayo.

Is that good? I'm not sure.

Steve's going to the wholesalers; he asks me if I would like to go? Why not, waste an hour or two.

Steve's purchased a Bakkie since I last saw him. Jumping in we speed off to an area of this city I've not visited before.

We arrive at the wholesalers, Steve parks up. Entering I notice how organised it is, just like England.

With his trolley, Steve makes his way around. Picking things from the shelves, he tosses them in.

He's certainly well known here, everyone talks to him. I haven't seen one white face working here yet.

Another thing I notice are the names on the staff badges, Love, Lovemore, Surprise, Sunday and many more. Talking to one of the boys, I ask him why he's called Distance.

"My mother was travelling back to Bulawayo from Jo'burg, she gave birth to me halfway, so I was born a distance from home".

What a lovely story.

I suppose Sunday was born on Sunday, Surprise was a surprise.

Steve drops me back at the camp-site. I tell him that I hope to see him tonight at The Fox.

I've eaten my pie on route to The Fox, arriving I enter through the side door. The place still looks the same; I see a few faces I recognise.

The first person to greet me is Ester. I buy her a drink, we have chat. She asks me where I've been. I tell her the places, and the things I got up to, including my love making with Fransisca.

She tells me one of the girls died. I'm shocked, she was only early twenties.

"How did she die?"

I ask Ester.

"She was ill for some time",

she replies.

Does that mean she fucking died from AIDS? they are in denial these people. They don't think it's real until it finally happens to them, or someone in their family.

Slowly the club fills up, girls come to me to say hello. Ester starts to move around, she's hunting.

With the disco pumping out good dance music, I sit and watch the girls dance. They have good natural movement, that's for sure.

I feel a pat on the shoulder, turning I see Steve.

"You did make it then",

I say to him.

His reply surprises me,

"Yes, I told the wife I was going to the Gray's with you for a beer".

The night moves along well. Steve is starting to chat with the girls, I think he will bed one soon.

Three o'clock arrives, I want to go. I think Steve does too. How is he going to explain coming home from The Gray's at this time, they close at midnight.

Settling down for some sleep in my tent, I realise I'm alone.

The overland trucks are regular visitors to the camp-site. I've become friends with one of the drivers, Mark.

He was doing the overland for about ten years in China. For the last three years he's been doing Africa.

His father is a farmer, that's how he got to know about repairing vehicles. He sounds well educated, private school perhaps. If it was private education, I wonder what his father thinks about the money he spent to educate his son to drive trucks across Africa. His co-pilot is a young Dutch guy.

Their trip starts in Kenya, then into Tanzania, Malawi, Zimbabwe, Botswana, South Africa, finishing in Cape Town.

I couldn't do this trip, the people I see on these over-landers are not the sort of people I could spend weeks with.

We usually end up bumping into each other in some bar in the centre whenever they're here. That means a lot of beer is consumed.

I made contact with Chipo, the girl I met on the bus to Masvingo with Maria. She's a sweet thing, I really do like her.

I went to visit her house; I met her family, father, mother, sisters, and brothers.

She's at the college near the camp-site, so every morning she visits me. We're getting closer and closer, kissing, touching each other. Something is stopping me going any further, she's a friend, not a lover.

I've spent some time at Steve's in-laws house. They feed me and give me a good bed to sleep in.

The father in law is an interesting man. He was put in prison during the Smith regime. Now he lives in a nice suburb, in a very big house. What's his business? he seems a little vague on that one.

"I'm a businessman",

he says.

Never any more specific than that.

The night-life is still the same, Silver Fox. The other morning I came home to my tent with Cee, she's a very pretty girl.

The lovemaking was good, but she's very inexperienced. We dated a few more times, and then I dropped her.

Couple of things I've noticed about these Zimbabwean girls, is how lazy they are when it comes to having sex. If they get on top, after a few minutes they say,

"I'm tired".

Another strange thing is when you're making love to a Zimbabwean woman in missionary position; she will put one leg straight up towards the sky and shake it, at who I'm not sure.

A few other observations I've made since I've been in this part of Africa, is that the men keep holding their cocks. Is this insecurity about their manhood? Also they like big, I mean big fat girls.

A few have told me the fat girl is best because she's not sick. Ah! Thin girls are sick, they will be HIV positive, the fat girls aren't sick, you will not get infected with them.

Fucking mind blowing.

No idea where time goes, I've almost completed another six months. I have to leave the country again.

My plan this time is to go to Vic Falls and cross into Botswana. I think in the next few days I will leave for the Falls. Couple of days there, then into Bots, then down to Francistown. I will then come back into Zim via Plumtree.

Just arrived at the camp-site here in Vic Falls, it's fucking busy. I'm going to get a beer.

I walk across towards one of the bars, someone's calling me. I turn to see Mark and the Dutch lad; they're escorting the group they have with them in the truck.

Over a beer I ask Mark when he's going into Bots.

"Day after tomorrow, why?"

he replies.

I ask him if it's possible for a lift. he's not going to Francistown, he's going to the Okavango.

"I can take you to the main road; there you will find buses going to Francistown."

he tells me.

The deal is struck. I have to contribute some money towards petrol, that's no problem.

I leave Mark with his clients; the short time I've spent with them completely justifies my thoughts.

A bunch of twats.

Fucking hell I have to sit on the truck with them for a few hours.

I make my way to another bar. Sat drinking a beer, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning I see Lady; she's a friend from Bulawayo, nice girl.

We sit and take a drink together. I'm surprised to see her here.

"What are you doing here?"

I ask her.

"I'm visiting my sister, and you?"

she asks.

I explain to her that I'm going into Botswana because my visa is finished.

"You are not coming back?"

she asks.

"Yes maybe one week",

I tell her.

We spend the rest of the evening together, finally making some good love in my tent.

The day's finally arrived; here I am sat in an overland truck. I'm trying to talk to these people as little as possible. I have to admit; from the top here the view is good.

I suppose not everyone is confident enough to just put a pack on their back and fly off somewhere. So for that reason this is a good alternative. Those who want everything organised for them and to meet fellow twats, it's perfect.

Border formalities finished, we're in Bots. The road is good, the scenery beautiful.

Before long we bump into a herd of elephant, they look at us. Their leader a big dominant male, starts to flap is ears wildly. I think in elephant language he's telling us to fuck off.

Time goes by, photos are taken, finally I can get off of this fucking truck.

I pay Mark some money, I tell him we will meet for a beer in Bulawayo. I wait for a bus, slowly watching the truck disappear into the distance.

It was an interesting experience. I'm sure of one thing; I couldn't spend weeks, even days on one of those things, unless I was the only person on board.

I don't have to wait long for the bus, hopping aboard I'm soon being transported to Francistown.

Good nights sleep in the hotel camp-site; I'm back on the road again.

I've got this crazy idea to go and visit Maria. Are we still friends? I think so.

Transport to the bar is no problem, two bakkie rides straight away. Now I have to wait for a lift to the school.

The sun is very hot today; I think I need some refreshments. I sit in the bar for one hour drinking.

My lookout a small boy whom I gave some money, tells me he's found my transport.

It's a truck delivering furniture to the school. Up the bumpy track we go, the driver chatting away to me. I just keep saying,

"yes",

to everything he says.

He drops me off in the school grounds. I walk over to the bungalow and knock on the door. The door opens, it's Carlos.

He tells me that Maria lives over the other side now. She's not here; she's away for a few days.

Shit that makes things a little difficult; it's too late to travel down now. I suppose I could put the tent up somewhere, too many snakes though.

I have an idea, let me go and see if Eric is in.

Eric is from Ireland, he's retired back home in the Emerald Isle. For some reason he wants to work here.

Knocking on his door, he answers.

"Seb, what a surprise, nice to see you",

he says.

I tell him I've a problem, I explain that it's too late to go back down, is it possible to pitch the tent somewhere?

"You can sleep in here on the lounge floor",

he tells me.

Eric cooks food and opens a bottle of wine. We sit and talk all night.

He tells me that Maria is sick; she's staying at another school with one of the other teachers.

The teacher and her are a little more than friends, he tells me. I tell him that's not a problem for me, Maria and me finished a good time back. Now we are just friends.

He starts to tell me another story that happened a week or two ago.

He was in his bedroom looking into the mirror of his dressing table. By the side is a waste bin, full of plastic bags. He heard movement, looking down he saw a snakes head appear. The snake rose and produced a hood, it was a cobra.

"What did you do?"

I ask him.

"I stood absolutely still",

he replied.

The snake was only a couple of feet away, well within striking distance. There was a stand off, slowly the hood disappeared and the snake lowered itself, obviously feeling no threat. It slithered out of the basket past Eric and behind a big wardrobe. For all of this time Eric just remained motionless.

The snake was out of sight; Eric moved out of the bedroom and went for help. He was joined by several people, all giving their input on how to get the snake out of the house.

It was a very difficult situation. Try moving the wardrobe? it's very heavy. The people moving the wardrobe could get bitten.

"What did you do?"

I ask him.

"We boiled water and poured it down the back of the wardrobe. After a time the snake came out and died".

"So you scalded it to death?"

I said.

"Yes, I felt sad for the thing really",

he said.

He produces a photograph; it shows Carlos holding the snakes head above his. The tail of the snake is touching the ground. Carlos is five, five in height, so the snake was a good seven feet long.

I ask him how it got in.

"The cleaners leave the doors open",

he replies.

That night I didn't sleep well. I was on the lounge floor inside my sleeping bag. I kept thinking that maybe there's a snake under the sofa, or heading towards me right now.

Eric gives me some breakfast; I think he enjoyed the company last night and this morning. I thank him for his hospitality and take my leave.

"I will tell Maria you came",

he shouts to me as I walk away.

"Fine, goodbye Eric",

I reply.

With luck I'm able to jump from one bakkie to another, finding myself quickly in Francistown.

A stop at Pie City, and a beer, is a good idea before I go back to the hotel camp-site.

Sat drinking a beer, I notice a face walking towards me. I get that feeling,

I've seen you before.

She stops, I look at her, but still I can't remember where we met.

"Hi, how are you?"

she says.

I greet her back, I tell her I'm sorry, but I can't remember where we met.

"You have forgotten me? it's Tina, we talked before",

she tells me.

Ah! I remember the agriculture student.

"Yes I remember you now Tina, nice to meet you again",

I say to her.

She sits with me for a time talking. She tells me how things are with her studies. She wants to know what I've been doing. Finally we exhaust our conversation. Saying goodbye we go different ways.

Reaching the hotel I see the big lady. She wants to tell me something. Fucking hell she doesn't want a date I hope, she's not in my tent tonight.

She tells me I had a visitor, her name was Louise, she will come back tomorrow.

Fuck it; I'd contacted Louise with a letter. I told her I would be here at the camp-site today. She was definitely going to be in my tent tonight.

What's the saying?

"You win some, you lose some".

Tomorrow I'm going back to Zim.

~~~~~

Chapter 18

Back to BYO

I'm in the taxi heading for the border today. I'm getting very familiar with this route. First stop border control Botswana, efficient, passport stamped. Drive to the Zimbabwean side. Everybody out of the taxi, why are some people running?

The place is not so busy at the moment.

I get to the desk, giving the officer my passport he flicks through the pages. He says,

"how long do you want?"

"Six months, please",

I reply.

"It's very hot today, I need some beer",

he says.

He's fucking trying to look for some money, cheating bastard.

Before I have time to reply, a group of black Africans comes around the corner.

He tells me to move over and wait, he wants to deal with these people first. He obviously doesn't want anyone listening to our conversation.

The people are gone; he calls me back to the counter. He has my passport open, the stamp in his hand hovering above the page.

"Do you want this stamp?"

he says.

"I really don't care; just give me a few days to get to Harare for my flight",

I tell him.

"Better still, give me your name and number, I will see the manager here".

Quickly he drops the stamp down on the page, returning my passport to me. He's full of apologetic crap; to me he's just a fucking cheat.

The tent is pitched, the garden looks fantastic. I get a big welcome from the staff. It's nice to be home again.

Steve's wagon is in place, he's not there. The girls tell me he's at the wholesalers.

I fancy a nice black coffee and a cake; Haefelis will be the place for that.

Walking to the centre, it's nice to see the place again. Past the open air pool, I've never been inside, I should try one day.

Soon I'm on Fife Street, finding a table outside I give my order. Five minutes and the girl returns with a cup of black coffee and a croissant.

Watching the people, I start to think about some observations I've made. I watch some of the people here at the tables. They have a mouthful of food, before they swallow it they start to drink their tea or coffee. They also make a slurping sound when they drink.

I always remember my parents telling me to empty my mouth before I took a drink, also to stop slurping.

Thank heavens I've finished eating. I've a gentleman near me picking his nose. He pokes around, then removing his finger he inspects what's there. There's definitely something, because he is rolling it now.

I've observed this in other places; Africans pick their nose in public. I've seen a few people in England do it, but here it's the norm.

The day went well, visited the Gray's Inn, Fred was there. Had a couple of beers with him, he seemed his usual unhappy self.

Now I'm on my way to Silver Fox, almost finished eating my sausage roll. Back to the good old days.

Good timing, the food is in my stomach and I'm just entering The Fox. It's time for a beer.

I take a stool at the bar, I order Zambezi. Looking around I see a few girls that I know.

They're still alive then.

Slowly the people arrive, the music thumps, the girls dance.

I'm joined by Ester. She gives me a kiss on the cheek. Looking at her, she looks good.

"Hi Seb, nice to see you again",

she says.

"Ester, it's good to see you, I've missed you",

I reply.

We talk for a short time; we are joined by another girl, a friend of Ester's.

She's introduced to me by Ester, her name is Sylvia.

"Hi Sylvia, I'm Seb, nice to meet you",

I say.

"Nice to meet you",

is her reply.

She talks very quiet. Studying her, she's tall, maybe six feet. Good body, very slim, remember what the black man says,

"Fat ones are healthy, thin ones are sick".

Not the prettiest face, but not ugly. I like this one, there's potential there.

After a short time they leave me, I'm alone again. Not for long, it's Jake.

"Hi Jake, I haven't seen you in here before",

I tell him.

"I get in here now and then, not a regular",

he tells me.

The night moves on, I see Jake on the stage dancing. His arms are swing about like the sails of a windmill. If he catches someone he will knock them out.

Over the next week, I make more contact with Sylvia through Ester. We meet at the Gray's Inn; all three of us go to the movies together. She's not the most talkative person in the world.

A few more weeks pass, we're starting to date together alone. I visit the house she's sharing with Ester; it's in a suburb called Sauerstown.

She's stayed the night in my tent a few times and I've slept at her place. The body is good; the love making isn't bad either.

Sylvia does have a tendency to use African time. On one occasion we arrange to go to the movies together. We are meeting at midday.

The day and the time arrives, I'm here at midday exact. I wait, it's now twelve thirty, there's no sign of Sylvia.

I move down the street one to two hundred metres, I still have the cinema in my vision.

Finally she arrives, she's forty minutes late. I stay where I am just watching her. She waits for one hour then goes on her way.

Next time I see her she's not happy. I explain that I was there watching her.

"Why didn't you come to me?"

she asks.

"Why weren't you on time?"

I reply.

She never changed her ways. Perhaps Fred was right.

"You can take an African out of the bush, but you cannot take the bush out of the African".

Today I witnessed the insecurity of the African president.

I was walking towards Gray's Inn, when along came a cavalcade of cars and motorcycles.

Some were police, some were military. Big four by fours, black in colour, with windows completely black out all sped by at a very fast speed.

The soldiers and police sat on the back of the trucks armed and ready. In a crash they would have no chance of living; they would be flung so far.

I did see this event again in Harare.

They also say that the road that passes by State House is closed to the public after six o'clock in the evening. If you walk down there you can be shot. I'm not sure if this is true.

Since I've been with Sylvia, I've made some more observations.

Food, the girls living in the house eat the head of the chicken, also the claws. I see nothing on there to eat, but they like it.

In the supermarket you find half a dozen chickens claws, or feet, packed in a polystyrene tray then cling filmed.

One other thing I've been introduced to is the Mopane worm. This is a caterpillar not a worm.

It frequents the Mopane tree during it's conversion to a moth. Hanging from a twig, it doesn't get much chance of forming into a chrysalis. People pick it from the tree, then squeeze the insides out of the caterpillar. It's then left in the sun to dry. The result is a dried up caterpillar.

They then fry them. I did try them, again tasteless. Just a hard crunchy thing in your mouth.

One night at Silver Fox, Steve finally broke his duck.

The girl was called Betty. Good body, but the face was, how would you say,

"unfinished".

I think she was coloured, maybe Indian mix with African.

Next day when I saw him I ask,

"How did you get on Steve, did you fuck?"

He told me they went to her house. The bedroom was dark, very little external light coming in.

They both got undressed and started to play on the bed. Condom in place, Steve was finally inside her.

He told me the girl moved well, he was enjoying the whole experience. Then he heard a noise, someone else was in the room. He asked Betty; she assured him that they were alone.

When everything was completed, he turned on his back resting. He heard the noise again, he was sure it was in the room.

The room started to get light with the early morning sunrise. This is when Steve got a bit of a shock.

On the other side of the bed was a mattress on the floor. Sleeping on the mattress was a child of four or five years old.

Betty was going to the bars looking for men, leaving the small child on her own.

She would bring the man back to the room; they would fuck with her small daughter by the side of the bed. This would happen not just once in the night. It would depend on how many punters there were looking for sex.

I was still visiting Sylvia in Sauerstown; she would stay with me at the camp-site. There were good days and bad days between us, but we were together.

I was still seeing Chipo, the more I saw her the more attached I was becoming. She is a bright girl, pretty thing and a nice body.

Visits to Gray's Inn were still interesting. You see different types of people.

One day these two Afrikaans come in for a drink. They were from South Africa.

They were huge men, fat fuckers, with their shorts and shirts giving them a military look. Like that Eugène Terre'Blanche who was leader of the AWB.

"Perhaps they were part of that group".

They certainly had some arrogance about them.

Fred was in good form today. He was telling me that he's got a girl who cleans and washes for him.

When she arrived this morning he was feeling a little horny. He offered her a small amount of money, which she accepted. He fucked her on the lounge floor, she's only twenty.

These girls are so desperate for money, they will do anything. Sadly, most of them have no education.

I've also observed another thing, especially in the bars. When you start talking politics, or about Mugabe and his government, people are frightened.

They say that secret agents go to the bars listening to the conversations of people. Saying the wrong thing, you can disappear.

Time moves on, again I need to leave the country. I will have a chat with Sylvia tonight.

"I have one of my plans again".

Evening comes; Sylvia is still on African time. Finally she arrives one hour late.

We make a fire in the braai and cook some steaks. A few beers with the food, everything is going well.

I tell Sylvia that I have to leave, my visa is nearly finished. I say to her,

"would you like to come with me?"

She doesn't show much excitement, her reply is,

"OK".

"What, that's it, OK".

Fucking hell this could be a long hard trip.

Well that's sorted, next week we will head up to the Falls and cross into Zambia.

~~~~~

Chapter 19

Travelling with a Woman

We've spent the night here in Vic Falls, now we're on the bridge crossing into Zambia.

I did this trip earlier in the year. Once on the Zambian side you can walk for a few kilometres then leave the main road. Another kilometre down a track, you find a beautiful camp-site.

Both immigration posts finished, we start walking down the main road to Livingstone. This is a good tarmac road.

Sylvia doesn't like the idea of walking; she's really dragging her feet.

Why do Africans walk like that? dragging their feet. Fred seemed to know the answer.

We we're sat one day drinking in The Gray's, this topic came up. He told me when they're in the bush, they leave their village to hunt or fetch water. By dragging their feet, they will leave a trail in the sand. This will enable them to find their way back.

I really don't think this is true.

I think this guy owns a white gown and pointed hood, for entertainment he burns crosses.

One thing I've noticed about the African leg is how long it is from the knee to the ankle. It's like a stick; the calf is like a pimple stuck on the back. This is not just women, the men also.

We reach the turning to the lodge, leaving the tarmac we follow the track. There's no shade, the sun is very hot.

I notice elephant dung; we really shouldn't be walking, even on the main road. This whole area is a National Park, the animals roam freely.

I remember when I was going to Livingstone the last time I was here. I was in a car; we passed a tourist establishment of some sort. Most of the buildings were damaged by a herd of marauding elephants.

Finally we reach the lodge, it's a very beautiful spot, There's a waterway, I'm not sure if it's moving or not. This is covered with a green plant, it looks like solid ground but it's not.

I see the hippo bathing; last time I was here it would be wandering around the grounds of the lodge. I even saw it in the swimming pool.

On the far bank the crocodiles are enjoying the sun.

In the grounds of the lodge are some rodavels, the main bar restaurant is centrally located.

I pitch the tent under a tree near the waterside. This is safe because the bank is two metres high and is almost vertical.

The afternoon is spent lazing around watching the hippo in the water, and the crocodiles having a little combat with each other.

A few metres from the tent there's a hammock. I sit on the side of it and start to swing myself back and forth. Getting a bit carried away, I end up flipping over and landing on my back. Hitting the ground, the bottom of my spine makes contact with a small tree stump poking out of the soil.

It fucking hurts a lot. That will be paining me for a few days I think.

Sylvia gives me no sympathy, she just sits there laughing. I will remember when she needs some TLC.

When I finally do settle into the hammock the correct way, I fall asleep.

I'm awakened by a lot of shouting and banging.

It's the herd of elephant; they're heading towards the lodge. The workers bang saucepans among other things to drive them away. It works, they've changed direction.

The night soon draws in, a few beers in the bar and it's bedtime. Sleep isn't on the agenda tonight, Sylvia wants to make love.

I wake up, looking at Sylvia I see she's still in the land of nod. I unzip the tent door, poking my head out slowly I see our hippo friend. He's about two metres from the tent.

Putting my head back into the tent, I wake Sylvia. I explain that the hippo is just outside the tent. She slowly pokes her head out; quickly she's back in the tent.

Peering through a small gap, I watch the hippo move a little further away. Now I think I can get out of the tent.

Amazingly, there's some other tourist, they are moving to within three metres of this wild animal. They think it's tame, stupid fools.

We're going for a walk into the bush today. The waterway is L shaped so we will still be on the same side as the lodge.

We follow some tracks. The sun is very hot; the bush is not that hospitable. There are some very nasty thorny bushes; if your leg catches them it will be very painful.

We see lots of elephant dung; this must be a through route for them. I start to think to myself,

what if we meet them on our little hike?

We walk for three hours; the sun is getting too hot so we decide to go back to the lodge.

Sat relaxing by the tent, I hear a commotion on the other side of the waterway. I go and join Sylvia; she's relaxing in the hammock. I ask her,

"did you hear the noise?"

She says,

"what noise?"

No good relying on her bush craft if we get lost.

"There it is again, trees moving and breaking",

I say to her.

"Yes I can hear it now",

she replies.

It's getting closer, now I can see the trees moving, some are breaking. The bush is too thick to see anything. Finally I get sight of an elephant, then another. It's a herd of elephant; they just move anything in their way to one side.

They reach the water, the crocodiles ignore them. They wade across to the other side, returning to the bush. Finally they are out of sight.

What is quite dense bush, made up of trees and bushes, was no obstacle to the elephant.

Fucking hell we were over there earlier, we could have been in their path. I can see the BBC News headlines,

"British tourist trampled to death by elephants".

Stop fucking dreaming you wombat.

We bid goodbye to the hippo today. We're going to Livingstone, one night there, then a train journey to Lusaka.

Walking towards the main road I keep looking around me, this is elephant country. Their shit is everywhere, after seeing them the other day it makes me a little nervous.

Reaching the main road we soon get a lift. The man is Zimbabwean, a Shona to be exact. He's going to do business in Livingstone.

Sylvia is Ndebele; I don't think these two tribes like each other that much.

Mugabe, who is Shona, sent his North Korean trained Fifth Brigade to Matabeleland. The soldiers were responsible for the massacre of thousands of Ndebele people, this was called Gukurahundi.

We did get to Livingstone without any blood being shed between these two warring tribes. We spent two nights there before getting a train to Lusaka.

Livingstone has a nice feel to it. There are some nice colonial buildings; although the place is a little run down but still enjoyable.

We're on the train pulling out of Livingstone. The carriage is very full, and very hot. The people are friendly, conversation is interesting. I've noticed a couple of other whites; otherwise the carriage is full of black people.

A few hours have passed by, the scenery is beautiful. We roll through hills with long grass, very few trees. The sky is pure blue, the sun is baking hot.

The train stops, we're in the middle of the bush. Why stop here? Minutes go by; the minutes are feeling like hours, something is wrong.

Inside the carriage it's very hot, people start to go outside. I decide to follow them. Stepping down from the train is not easy without a platform.

The train is long, we're near the back. The word from fellow passengers is that we've broken down. Deep joy, it's fucking hot and we are stuck in the African bush.

Sylvia joins me outside; I tell her what the problem is. We find some shade, we wait. The wait is pleasant, the sun is scorching hot but there's a nice breeze blowing. The scenery is beautiful, it would be nice if we had a picnic hamper.

Time passes; everybody starts to board the train. This is a good sign.

Back in the carriage we feel a jolt, yes we're moving again. I'm not sure how long we've been delayed. One man told me three hours. If that's correct then it will be dark when we arrive in Lusaka.

We spent a few days in Lusaka, never explored the place much. Our next destination was going to be the border town of Chipata. We would stay for one night before crossing into Malawi. To get there we needed to go by bus, not a short trip.

We're here in Lilongwe, Malawi. I haven't been here before, it's my first time.

Sylvia is in pain with a tooth ache, we have to find a dentist. I give her no TLC, I still remember the hammock.

We find what looks like a good dentist, everything looks clean and modern. He can see her straight away.

She emerges from the surgery looking a little bemused.

"What did he do?"

I ask her.

Still spitting blood, she says,

"he pulled it out".

Fuck, no messing trying to save the tooth. Just pull the fucking thing out. She's still got a problem, she's bleeding a lot. I take her back, the dentist is very polite. After another ten minutes in the chair he stops the bleeding.

We spend one night here in Lilongwe before starting the trip to Nkhata Bay.

We reach Nkhata Bay, on route we spent a few days in Kelly's Lodge, it was nice to be back there.

For a few days we relax, we eat the fried cassava and the sima from the restaurant. We do our exploring of the area, boring for me because I'd already spent time here.

I take Sylvia to Mzuzu, to meet Stanley. The hospitality is the same, he takes us to his house, feeds us well.

Today we're on the ferry to the island of Chizumulu. The crossing is pleasant, the sun is hot but the breeze keeps us cool.

When we reach the island, it's dusk. A small boat comes out and is moored by the side of the ferry. We climb down the vertical ladder, both boats bobbing up and down. Finally we're in the relative safety of the small boat.

A short trip to shore and we're back on dry land. The lodge we want is a short walk away.

Reaching the lodge, the first thing you see is a gigantic Baobab tree. The bar restaurant is an open sided thatch roof construction, built around the tree.

Accommodation is thatched huts, nothing inside, just a grass mat thrown on the sand floor.

We are shown the toilets, they're fine.

"What about the shower?"

I ask.

The man points to the lake. I've been in the lake to swim, but to wash, that's different.

Last night we both slept well. After a good shit, I was naked in the lake giving the body parts a shine.

After breakfast, I'm sat reading a newspaper. I open a page and something black disappears into the other pages. I've no idea what it is, maybe a spider.

I put the paper down on the table. Slowly I open every page, I find nothing. Looking around on the floor, I see what I'm looking for. A small black scorpion is on the wall.

The local man working at the lodge tells me these are very poisonous. There are lots around here he informs me. Fucking hell, that's not making me feel good about sleeping on the floor.

We spend a few more days in this beautiful place, until time tells us we have to move on.

Today we're going to the other island, Likoma. There's a dhow that makes the short journey.

Waiting on the shore we look across to Likoma, it's in the distance but not very far.

The man in the dhow tells us we are going to leave, there's six passengers total.

The boat leaves the shore, progress is painfully slow. There's hardly any wind, the man zigzags the boat to get some movement.

Sylvia is looking unwell; the boat seems to have a swaying motion. Sylvia's head goes over the side, that's a waste of money; her breakfast is now floating in the lake.

Should I give her some TLC? not a chance.

I think this journey has taken three hours, another hour and I think I would have been throwing up over the side of the boat.

We find a small guest house, food, beer and relaxing for the rest of the day and evening.

Nice sunny day, we start to explore the island. We find the big Anglican cathedral; it's built of stone and brick.

Another feature is the Baobab tree, there are lots here. If you like eating mango, then this is a good place to be. Everywhere you walk there are mango trees. We just keep picking them up and munching, maybe tonight or tomorrow morning we will pay for our over indulgence.

Today we've heard bad news; the ferry will not be coming tomorrow, it's broken down. Asking people how long it will take to repair. I'm told it could be one week.

Here on the island there's no bank or other means of getting money. I only have enough for two days.

One man tells me there's a military boat leaving tomorrow. This is our only possibility to get off the island.

He's told us to go to the military base on the hill; better still he's willing to take us there.

A thirty minute walk and we're at the base. After some talking with various military personnel, the man tells us we have to wait and see the commander. He needs to go, he bids us farewell, we in turn thank him for his help.

Ten minutes pass and the commander of the base comes out to greet us. He's very young to be in charge of the whole base.

We explain to him our predicament, no money. He tells us to be at the quay for nine o'clock tomorrow morning. We will definitely have a place on the boat.

We thank him very much and take our leave. Problem solved I hope.

The day is spent enjoying the island, but I can't help thinking about the boat tomorrow. I hope we can get on the thing.

Well we've arrived at the quayside, there are lots of people. The boat is small, the type used by the governor generals of the colonial powers.

I spot the commander from the base. He's very busy trying to organise the people who want to get to the mainland.

I go to introduce myself, he remembers me. He tells me we have a place on the boat. We have to just wait for a short time; he will call us when the boat is ready to leave.

The time finally arrives, true to his word he tells us to go aboard. This little craft is well overloaded.

We set sail; soon we're being bounced around with the movement of the lake.

Sylvia's not enjoying it very much; she's going down in the small area below deck. I'm staying up here; if this thing capsized you would have no chance of getting out.

Before long we are approaching Chizumulu. We have to drop something off there.

The boat is really being tossed around, the waves are big. The bow of the small craft hits a wave and we go up into the air.

We get to the place they want to deliver the package to. The boat starts to turn towards the shore.

This is not a good idea; the waves will hit us side on.

The boat is rocking now; we are hit with one wave that makes it list forty five degrees. Fuck, I thought we were over then, that frightened everyone.

Package delivered, the boat goes back out the same way. The waves hit the side making me and everyone else hang on for dear life.

Sylvia is still below, maybe the best thing for her.

The waves subsided when we get away from the islands. The rest of the journey is very calm.

After spending one night in Nkhata Bay we get a bus to the south. Making a few stopovers on route, we reach Mangochi.

We will stay here for one night, then cross the border into Mozambique.

~~~~~

Chapter 20

Is it Malaria?

Today we've crossed the border into Mozambique. I know little about this place. There was a civil war for a long time, that much I do know.

South of the country below the Zambezi River is well developed. Maputo and Beira are benefiting from having neighbours like South Africa. The north of the country is still a little behind. This is what I've read; let me see if it's correct.

We slept here in Mandimba last night; we wanted to get an early start this morning.

We are sat in the back of a flat bed lorry with other people; the lorry is also carrying fruit, metal bars and boxes.

This is the only transport up here in the north, no taxi, no bus, "no option".

Travelling along I see how beautifully green this place is. Scenery is nice, the roads almost non-existent.

The truck is not the most comfortable mode of transport, and it's slow.

We're trying to get to a place called Pemba on the Indian Ocean. That's not looking possible today; I think we will have to make a stop over in a town called Marrupa.

A night sleeping in Marrupa, and a very hard day on the road, we finally reach Pemba. It's dusk so we need to find a room.

We're shown a room in a run down hotel, very big room. The bed is massive; the headboard is solid carved wood. The wardrobe is of the same style, to me it's a Spanish look, but probably Portuguese.

Going into the bathroom, again huge. Tiled floor to ceiling, the tiles having a very intricate pattern. The bathtub is very fancy in design.

I think this place was once a very good hotel, I suppose the war changed its fortunes.

There are two problems, no electricity and no running water. That's going to be the same where ever we look.

We tell the gentleman that we will take the room. We use sign language, there's no English spoken here only Portuguese.

After finding a little food, we decide to get our heads down. We're both very tired from the long trip.

It's a new day, looking out of the window a sunny one. It's the rainy season right now, so later the sun may well give way to rain.

A bucket of warm water thrown over our bodies, we go out into the sunshine to find some breakfast.

We managed to get some coffee and bread, now we can go and find the ocean.

We walk around, you can't help but notice how run down the place is. I think once this would have been a beautiful place.

Finally we see the ocean, the Indian Ocean to be exact. It's a beautiful blue colour, the sun reflecting off the surface.

Sitting under a tree in a square over looking the ocean, I imagine what it would have been like. Now the entire stone balustrade is broken, the floor slabs cracked or missing. The vegetation that would have been manicured before is now just overgrown.

We pass the day strolling along, we finding different things to photograph. The sun is getting lower, time to go and have shower before it gets dark.

Showered we want to go and eat some prawns. Arriving at the restaurant, we put an order in for a plate of prawns. When they arrive we are not disappointed.

They're big, four inches long. They've been slit and opened butterfly style, then cooked over an open fire. The first bite you get the taste of garlic, you don't want to see the plate empty but it does.

Tonight we've enough energy to make some love.

Yesterday we spent the day lazing around Pemba, today we're in the local transport again, heading for Nampula.

After another gruelling day of travel we reach Nampula. This is a big town; we need to do a few things here before we move on.

I need to get some money but the banks are closed now, tomorrow will do.

Finding a room, we then go to the streets to fill our stomachs. That completed, we go to the bedroom. We both need sleep.

Today I'm going to try to get some money from the bank. Finding the bank I go in to try to sort out this problem. I call it a problem because of the lack of English spoken here.

One thing I'd been warned about before I got here, was the lack of English speaking people.

In a bank I would've expected to find someone who could speak English. The teller knows only Portuguese, what a surprise.

Fortunately there's another customer who speaks English, he's the first we've come across.

With his help I finish my transaction; I leave the bank with money.

We spend the day exploring the city. Sat drinking in the bar, we finalise our plan for the rest of the trip.

Tomorrow we will take transport to a place called Quelimane. A few days there, then we will cross the Zambezi River, heading for Beira. From Beira we will return to Zimbabwe.

Today we've reached the coastal city of Quelimane. The journey was extra tough, the reason? I'm not feeling good.

We've a good room, so a few nights here will give me time to shake off this illness.

I tell Sylvia that I need to go to bed early tonight. I tell her if she wants to go out on her own, to do so.

It's a new day, not a good one the way I feel.

Sylvia's taking breakfast; I sit and play with a cup of coffee.

At the table next to us there's a lady, she's English. We start to chat to her, she tells us she's been here for seven years. She asks what we're doing. I explain that we will travel to Beira tomorrow, and then we will cross into Zimbabwe.

"I think you might have a problem there",

she says.

She carries on telling us that we will not be able to cross the Zambezi, the roads will be impassable and the river to high because of the rains.

"Are you sure?"

I ask her.

"I'm certain",

is her reply.

There's no infrastructure here in the north, only the south is being developed. Roads are non-existent, no electricity, no running water.

We thank her for her advice, we say goodbye.

The evening is spent discussing our options. There's only one that I can see. The quickest route is to the border crossing with Malawi.

I tell Sylvia that I'm not feeling good. I would prefer to get to Malawi tomorrow if that's fine with her. She's in agreement.

The hospital system in Malawi isn't that good, but it's better than anything here.

Talking finished we go to bed, tomorrow it's a trip to Milange. The way I'm feeling it's not going to be a pleasant one.

It's late afternoon, we've been on the road for hours. Finally we've reached Milange, the border with Malawi.

My whole body is feeling crap. I have a fever, I'm aching and I feel like vomiting.

Passports stamped we make our way to Mulanje on the Malawian side.

More passport controls finished, we enter a taxi. This will take us to the bus terminal. Nearby there's a hotel I've stayed at before.

We get to the bus terminal; I have no strength in my body.

I tell Sylvia to go to the hotel, bring someone back to carry the bag. The bag is too heavy for her and I can only just carry myself.

After some minutes Sylvia returns with a worker from the hotel. We walk three hundred metres, arriving to find they have a room.

Sylvia sorts out the cost with the receptionist; I go to the room and collapse on the bed.

I've never had malaria before, I've read about it. The symptoms I have are making me think that's what is wrong with me.

I have a packet of Fansidar, this is a quick fix. You take all three tablets in one go, one after another. I was told this by people who live here. If you live here you can't keep taking tablets all of your life.

I take the tablets, tomorrow I will go to the hospital for a test. The people working here tell me there's a small hospital, ten minute walk away.

I was feeling pretty sick all night; I was even on the toilet with the craps. I need to get to the hospital.

I start my walk in the direction the man at the hotel told me to go. It doesn't take long before I find the hospital. It's certainly better than the one I went to in Nkhata Bay.

I enter the main doors; it's small, very clean. I tell the nurse I would like a test for Malaria. Within a few minutes I'm in a room with twenty or thirty people. All are waiting for a test, all are black Malawians.

A short time goes by, the nurses calls me over. I feel I'm jumping the queue.

A stab in the finger, she squeezes enough blood onto a slide. I'm told to go and return to my seat.

I sit watching everyone have their finger pricked then squeezed.

A nurse takes me from the room; I'm shown to a door further down the corridor. She knocks, we enter, I am greeted by the doctor.

He tells me my test is positive, I have malaria. He tells me it's a two on the scale of five, so it's mild.

Fuck, if this is mild god knows what it feels like when you get it bad.

I tell him I've taken Fansidar yesterday, he tells me that's good. He gives me some small brown pills.

"It's quinine",

he says.

I ask him how much I owe.

"Nothing",

he tells me.

Fucking hell, this is one of the poorest countries in the world, and they're willing to treat a white tourist for free.

The week goes by. I sweat, I shit, I ache, finally the body starts to recover.

I must have been ill; I didn't want to drink any beer. Know it's going down my throat well. Food also tastes good.

I spent a week recovering, before we made our way to Blantyre. One night there and we're on the bus back to Harare. A long journey over the Zambezi, through the Tete corridor and we're back in Zimbabwe.

We spend two nights in the capital and we go back home to Bulawayo.

~~~~~

Chapter 21

Marriage in BYO

Here we are back in Bulawayo; we need to find somewhere to live. The tent has served its purpose.

Tonight I go to The Fox with Steve, lets see who's dead.

Steve arrives at the camp-site in his bakkie. Jumping in, we set off into town.

First stop is Gray's Inn; here we bump into Sylvia and Ester. Sylvia wants to tell me something.

"Is it possible to meet tomorrow at midday?"

she asks me.

"Why?"

I reply.

She tells me that she's found some accommodation for us. I tell her that's fine.

"Where do you want me to meet you?"

I ask her.

"Come to Sauerstown",

she replies.

A few drinks in The Gray's and we make our way to The Fox. We leave Sylvia and Ester finishing their drinks, I'm sure we will see them later.

We're late tonight; we're forced to pay an entrance fee. Walking in we find the place is full. The music thumping, the girls gyrating, nothing seems to have changed.

Steve grabs a few beers from the bar; I grab what looks like the only empty table. Steve returns with the beers, we sit and watch the girls advertising their wares to the prospective clients.

We are joined by Steve's only conquest, Betty. His body language looks a bit uncomfortable. She's quite friendly towards him, wants to make some early money from him. After a short conversation she moves on.

"You don't want tonight Steve?"

I ask him.

He tells me the baby episode put him off the idea, with her anyway.

Next to visit us is Angela and another girl, they are both beautiful girls. For me I don't want, Steve looks interested though. They leave and we're on our own again.

In walk four whites, they're regulars here. They're from England; they have a contract with the government parastatal here in Bulawayo.

They fuck anything; they've had quite a few of the girls in here. The one was a boyfriend to Ester.

Tonight I spot Jane; she's not a regular here. She's more for the upmarket places. When you see her you can see how different she is to most of the other girls.

I met Jane some time back. She's with a white man; she told me they're married. He's in England most of the time, which seems to give her a licence to look for other men. She's propositioned me a few times.

She spots me; soon she's sitting with us at the table. I introduce her to Steve, I watch his jaw drop. Looking at her she's one beautiful woman, the body, the face, everything is perfect.

She bids us farewell and heads for the dance floor.

I ask Steve what he thinks; he's of the same opinion.

"She's fucking gorgeous",

is the reply.

The session is coming to an end; Steve needs to get home to his wife and child.

Me? well it's back to the tent. I have to meet Sylvia tomorrow.

I'm in the ET heading for Sauerstown. These taxis are a good form of transport, and they're cheap.

We make our way out of town, stopping to drop people off, stopping to pick people up. If you don't have the patience, it's best not to use them.

Finally it's stopping again, this time it's for me. We've reached the house where Ester and Sylvia live.

I knock on the door, it opens. Sylvia is stood there with a towel around her hips; her breasts are exposed for all to see.

I've noticed that African women don't mind walking around showing off their breasts.

I enter the house, sitting in the lounge for twenty minutes. Finally she's ready, thirty minutes late, African time.

We're in the ET, this time it's to a suburb called Queens Park East.

We arrive, getting out of the taxi we start walking. The suburb is very nice, there's a lot of thatch on the houses here. This would've been full of white families in the days of the Rhodesian regime.

Sylvia stops outside a house; it's got a nice thatch roof. We enter into a front garden come driveway. We're met by a lady, she's the owner. She looks young to own a property like this.

She takes us to the back of the house. There's a small shed like structure, concrete block with cement render, the roof is corrugated iron sheets.

She takes us inside; it consists of a bedroom and small lounge. The toilet and shower is outside adjoining the rest of the building.

These places would've housed the white people's maid. Know people let them for cash.

I tell Sylvia that I like it, if she's the same we will take it. She tells me she wants it, that's it no more tent.

We've been in our little home for sometime, it's quite pleasant. The city is still easy to get to, transport is no problem. Even a late night or early morning at The Fox is no problem. We make a weekly shop at the supermarket, Sylvia or her sister cooks daily.

One thing we are talking about is marriage. Sylvia wants too; I'm not against the idea.

After more discussions we have a plan and a date. We will marry at the registry office here in Bulawayo, then a reception at her sister's house.

The day of the wedding arrives; I hate this sort of thing. I needed to go out and buy a suit, shirt, tie, that didn't include the expense of Sylvia's attire.

I've hired a car for the weekend; we can't use the ET to transport the bride. Problem is I'm the only one who can drive.

As per usual Sylvia is on African time. I've been dressed in my new suit waiting for ages.

Finally she comes out of the house, she looks good. She's wearing a long satin dress, white or cream in colour.

We get into the car; I drive to the registry office. Everyone is there waiting, fuck; let's get this over and done with.

Ceremony completed, we line up outside on the entrance steps to the registry office. The day is a beautiful sunny day, blue sky with a few white clouds floating by.

Photo call finished thank god, now I become the taxi driver. Tradition is that we have to drive around the town sounding the horn. As per tradition off we go. I keep pushing the horn; another car is following doing the same. This is one big din, I feel a bit embarrassed.

Another bit of tradition is to go to the park and have some photos taken. When we arrive, there's already two other brides doing the same.

Finally we reach the house of Andrew, husband to Sylvia's sister. Now the party begins.

The front garden is set with a long table, there are other tables dotted about.

Time ticks by, everybody eats, drinks, and enjoys themselves. The sun went down sometime ago; the evening is warm and pleasant.

The women are dancing; it looks like a traditional dance. They're doing a wailing sound from their mouths, I thought it was the Arabs that done that.

Drinks run out, looks like I have to dip into the pocket again. Four of us jump into the car; it's off to town to buy more booze.

Bottle store finished, boot loaded, Andrew says,

"why don't we go for a beer?"

I think that's a great idea, soon we're supping a few beers in The Gray's.

Leaving The Gray's, I drive back to the reception. I'm definitely over the legal limit, I'm pissed.

The night carries on; people dance and get drunk, including my lovely wife.

Time to go; we've booked into a hotel in the centre for the night. The honeymoon isn't going to be a passionate one, she's too pissed.

Leaving the hotel, I drop Sylvia back in Queens Park. I need to drop the car back at the rental shop.

Looking at the clock hung on the wall in the rental office, I decide a cup of coffee at Haefelis would be a good idea.

I walk the two blocks to Haefelis, taking a table outside; I'm soon enjoying a cup of strong black coffee.

My head is a little sore today, too much drink last night. I sit and watch the world go by, well Bulawayo anyway.

For some reason I think about my observations when I sit here. There are a few ladies sat drinking, they are all wearing dresses or skirts. They sit with their legs wide open, I've seen this a lot. Not very ladylike.

I also see a man on the other side of the road, he's dancing. Africans love to dance anywhere.

I'd finished my coffee a little while ago, run a few errands, now it's time for a beer.

Falling into a chair in The Gray's, I order a Zambezi, this is the hair of the dog. I feel shit today, bit of a hangover from last night.

A white man asks if he can sit at my table. I tell him to go ahead.

He took one beer; we talked for forty five minutes, maybe one hour. He was an interesting man, he was a miner.

"What do you mine?"

I ask him.

"Gold"

is his reply.

He told me he has a small mine; he makes a good living from what he does. Beer finished he leaves.

He had only been gone a few minutes, when in walks Fred. He keeps me company for another hour with his comments about the black people.

Six months have almost gone by again; my visa will run out soon. I don't want to travel over the border; I'm going to try something different.

I'm at the immigration offices here in the city. I ask if I can see the person in charge. After a few minutes I'm taken out of the main public area. I'm told to wait outside this office.

A man opens the door, inviting me in. He's the top man; he's in charge of all immigration issues over this side of the country.

He asks me what he can do for me. I explain that I've just got married to my Zimbabwean wife. My visa is nearly over; I would like to spend more time with her.

No problem, we can give you another six months. Shit this is too easy.

I notice a photo of Liverpool FC on his wall. I ask him if he supports them. He tells me that's his team.

"Everyone here in Bulawayo supports Liverpool. The reason is Bruce Grobbelaar was goalkeeper of the top team here in Bulawayo, Highlanders"

We got onto first name terms; I told him my name was Seb. He in return told me he was Study.

We got on so well we arranged to go to football together the coming weekend.

Study became a good friend, useful too. Whenever I needed a new visa, I would just go and see him.

We watched a good few games together at Barbour Fields Stadium. One game I remember was Highlanders against Dynamos.

These games were tribal, not just sport. Dynamos came from Harare, their supporter base was Shona. Highlanders were from Bulawayo, their supporter base was Ndebele.

The stadium was full, so full I couldn't see the game. I watched the police carrying slabs of beer to a place they were congregating. One policeman walked around looking very menacing, he was carrying the biggest Knobkierrie I had ever seen. Hit someone on the head with that and you will kill them.

We decided to leave the game early, Study dropping me off home.

On the evening news I watched a story about the game. There was trouble at the end. The footage showed a bank of people behind one goal. The police are on the pitch, they fire tear gas into this crowd of several thousand supporters.

The supporters squeeze to both ends, leaving a big void in the middle. They are fenced in, there's nowhere for them to go. Some people died because of the police intervention. The supporters were from Highlanders.

I also tried to watch another game between these two enemies. It was the Independence Cup Final in Harare.

The problem here is the admission is free. Too many people trying to get in. I made my way up to the first tier; every stairway going into the stands was full with people. Every now and then they would all run down, some falling and being trampled. The police were at the top hitting them with sticks. I tried another tier, same thing. I left the stadium with out even seeing the pitch.

Reports later were saying,

"6 People Die at Football Match".

I'm very glad I didn't stay.

I asked Sylvia if she would like to visit England. It was the normal muted response, but it was yes.

A bit of work acquiring a visa, we were soon in a position to go to the UK for six months.

~~~~~

Chapter 22

Back in Africa

We had a good six months in England, I think Sylvia enjoyed it. I managed to get a temporary job for the time we were there, the money was useful.

Now we're back here in Africa, the beautiful city of Bulawayo. We had a room in Queens Park but neither of us liked it. From there we moved into a flat on Twelfth Avenue, it wasn't long before we hit problems. The person was subletting to us, the landlord found out and we were forced to move out. Now we have found a shared house in the Suburbs.

The Suburbs is about one kilometre from the city centre, just past the parks. The streets are lined with trees, the houses are very nice.

The place we're living in is a very huge house, there's a large garden. We have one room, sharing the bathrooms and kitchen with six other people.

The property is a little run down, the gardens overgrown, but you can visualise what it must have been like.

The garden is full of trees and bushes, no grass, just dust or sand.

Today Sylvia tells me she's missed her period, I tell her to go and take a test. She phones and makes an appointment at the clinic for tomorrow.

Now we have a mobile phone, I bought it here, a second-hand Nokia.

It's quite new technology here, but the Zimbabweans have taken to it with great enthusiasm. They're never off the thing; you will see them sat in the bars playing with the keys, writing text messages, talking.

The other problem the mobile as created, is an assault on all of the phone booths in the street. Now it's very difficult to find one that's not been vandalised. They say the mobile people pay people to do this and then there are no other means of contact, except the mobile phone. I'm not sure if it's true, but before the mobile came along the phone booths were in superb condition.

Sylvia's gone to the clinic today; I'm walking into the city for breakfast. She will meet me at The Gray's for some lunch.

A short stroll past the parks, I reach the city centre. Few more blocks walked and I'm taking a seat at Haefelis.

I order black coffee and croissant, which soon arrives. I attack my breakfast; they do make a good cup of coffee here.

I watch the usual happenings, the odd madman walking by shouting and talking to himself. The beautiful black girls pass, look and give a smile.

I'm joined by Steve.

"What are you doing here?"

I ask him.

He tells me he phoned me, Sylvia told him I was here. She's carrying the phone, I don't like the things.

He just wants to have a chat. Drinking our coffee I tell him how things are going on. I tell him Sylvia's gone for a test, she might be pregnant.

Coffee finished, he needs to go back to work. I have a few things I want to do before I meet Sylvia.

Arriving at The Gray's, I'm flabbergasted, Sylvia's already here. I go over to her, I make the comment about African time, it falls on deaf ears.

We make an order for food, I want a sandwich, she wants chicken and chips.

I ask her about the test? it's positive, she's pregnant. I'm happy; this will be my third child, for her, the first.

We take our lunch, making mental notes between us of the things we need to do.

Time passes, I have found a gynaecologist for Sylvia, he's an Australian.

We will use the government hospital, but not the doctors. The day of arrival he will attend the birth.

Another new development is the house we're staying in is being sublet, we all have to leave.

I've heard that this place is up for sale; I will go and check it out.

The rains have provided instant lawns in the garden. Where all of the dust was is now grass, it looks so different.

The borehole is dry, that's one of the jobs that would need to be sorted out if I purchased the house. If you want to keep your garden all year round, you would need the borehole.

The house never happened, the owner who was selling lived in South Africa, he was a white Zimbabwean. We made an appointment; he never bothered to turn up. Weeks later the agent called me, the man wanted to see me about the house sale. My chosen words to her were,

"tell him to put it where the sun doesn't shine".

It was a shame really, what you were getting for £25,000 was a lot of house.

There was a bungalow near the house I wanted. I was told the lady wanted to sell, again £25,000.

I went to view the property, the lady was Indian. The bungalow was very nice, the garden very private and secluded.

The problem was she wanted me to pay some big Indian businessman the money. She was trying to avoid Zimbabwe dollars. I didn't like the set up so I pulled out.

We looked at several more properties; none took my eye like the two in the suburbs.

We've found a first floor apartment to move into, another problem solved.

But something much more troubling to me as happened. This marriage is no longer viable, for me it's finished.

If she wasn't carrying my child I would drop her immediately. I'm staying for the child only.

We're in our one bedroom apartment, not far from the city centre. My life is reverting back to a single man again, The Fox, every night.

On one of these nights I meet a new girl, her name is Precious. She's very pretty and a good body, I do like her.

Near the apartment is the Queens Cricket Ground, today there's an international match, Zimbabwe verses England. I'm hoping to get in.

I walk to the ground which is not far. Purchasing a ticket was easy; I'm soon sat in the ground by the English supporters.

These people are quite famous, The Barmy Army. They travel all over the world supporting the England cricket team.

Most of them have football shirts on. I see Arsenal, Manchester United to name but a few.

I'm not a great follower of cricket, but I watch the game with interest. I see lots of players who I've heard of in the newspapers or on television.

They're good with their chanting. One of their songs is very much a news topic at the moment. President Mugabe is mouthing off about gay people right now. I think he was quoted as saying,

"they are worse than dogs and pigs".

These bunch of crazy English people start singing,

"Robert Mugabe is having a party, bring some gays and a bottle of Bacardi".

The police just stand and watch, England go on to have a good day with the bat.

I'm taking Sylvia to the hospital; we've done a little shopping beforehand, a few things she might need.

Waiting for the bus it finally arrives. I climb onto the first step when Sylvia shouts something and goes running down the street.

What the fuck is she doing? maybe she's frightened now the time is near.

She comes back, she's very uptight. A thief dipped her bag, took some money. The stupid girl left the bag wide open. The man was fast; she had no chance of catching him.

We arrive outside the hospital; walking through the entrance gates you see a long curving drive. The gardens are well kept, trees, shrubs, all with colourful blooms.

The building is very colonial, painted white with some nice architecture. Inside it's very clean. There's a matron, she's a very stern looking woman. We had matrons in our hospitals a long time ago, I remember people saying that they should be reintroduced.

I spend a little time with Sylvia, there's not much I can do so I tell her I'm leaving.

The Aussie gynaecologist is coming tomorrow to deliver the baby. I'm not allowed to visit until tomorrow afternoon, so I have to wait until then.

I go into the city centre to grab some breakfast. Reaching Haefelis I meet up with Jake. We sit and have coffee together. He asks me how things are. I tell him Sylvia is delivering tomorrow.

Jake leaves, he needs to return to work. Shortly afterwards I leave, I need to go and buy Sylvia a few things.

Shopping done I find myself at The Gray's, what a surprise, Fred is here. During our conversation I remember about Sylvia, I must find out how things are going.

I phone the hospital, giving the details I ask for information. The stupid fucking woman tells me she can't tell me anything.

Explaining this to Fred, he goes off on one of his racist babbles.

It's late afternoon, I've arrived at the hospital. Going into the reception area, I attempt to get some information, still nothing.

People are starting to arrive; they also want to see how their loved ones are doing. The matron paces through, the nurses look so frightened of her.

I walk outside the entrance doors, there's an ambulance reversing to the doors. The ambulance stops, a man gets out. Other people appear, the back doors are opened. Inside there's nothing, it's like a clean workman's van.

A stretcher is wheeled out, there's a young woman lying on her side. She looks very ill. The men pick up the stretch; she's placed in the back. I'm amazed at how rough they handled her. The stretcher hits the side of the van a few times; this gives the poor girl a few shudders through what is an aching body.

I go back inside, now we are a lot of people. I notice the nurses keep referring to me as the father of the big one. What the fuck does that mean?

Finally the doors are opened; everyone makes their way into the ward area.

I ask a nursing where Sylvia is. she takes me down a corridor and into a room.

Sylvia has a room to herself; by the side of her is our new baby. I ask her how she feels. she seems fine.

"What did we have?"

I ask her.

"It's a girl",

she tells me.

We had picked the name Josie for a girl and Thomas for a boy.

I go over and give my new daughter a small kiss on the forehead. I whisper in her ear,

"hello Josie, you're beautiful".

In the room there are double doors opening out onto a covered area, you can sit outside here and convalesce. The sun is hot, the room is cool, this is a nice room.

We sit and talk about the deliver among other things. Sylvia tells me Josie weighed eight pounds plus. That's a good size baby for us Europeans, but to the African that's very big. She tells me they call her the big one, now I understand what they were implying earlier.

Time is moving on, Sylvia is out of the hospital. I've been busy securing a British Passport for Josie; Sylvia sorted out the birth certificate.

There were trips to the clinic for various injections, the same that would happen to a child in England.

On one of these trips to the clinic I notice a big wall poster. It's an HIV awareness poster. It's telling people not to use the same tooth brush, have unprotected sex, needles, among other things. My first reaction is razor blade.

The girls here use a razor blade to cut nails, trim their eyebrows, and shave their pubic hair. This razor will be shared by other people, surely a possibility of infection.

Later I saw that this poster had been updated, the razor blade was included.

Visits to The Fox were bringing me closer to Precious. On one of these visits we decided to go camping together.

I'm waiting near the bus terminal; Precious arrives not long after me.

We are soon heading out of the city on a bus to Masvingo.

We arrive late afternoon, taking in some food we walk to the camp-site. There is still plenty of light left for us to pitch the tent.

Sat in front of the fire we talk and slowly the evening moves on. Precious goes into the tent; I put the remainder of the glowing cinders out. We don't want to be cremated well we sleep.

I enter the tent, Precious is lying there naked. She looks fantastic, her body is very curvaceous. I remove my clothes; I start to touch her, instant erection. Her hand grabs my cock, guiding it inside her. Her nice formed breasts fill my hand, the nipples protruding the more I rubbed inside her. The love making is good, her body fresh, not spoilt by having a child.

When we arrive back in Bulawayo, we both decide to go back to her house. I will stay there for a few days.

We jump in a taxi, she gives the driver directions. Soon we're approaching where she lives. I start to recognise the area, I'm sure this is where Sylvia's sister lives. Sure enough we drive past the house where we had the wedding reception.

The taxi stops, we're less than two hundred metres from her sisters house. Precious tells me this is where she lives.

I get my bag from the boot; a woman comes around the corner. She looks at me, I look at her. It's fucking Sylvia's sister. She looks away and walks on past. I watch her, a short distance away and she turns to look again. She's recognised me I'm sure.

Fuck it, the marriage is finished anyway.

Once inside the house we start to make love. We both fall asleep, tired from the love making and the journey.

We're woken by knocking at the door. Precious covers herself with a towel and goes to answer. There's a discussion going on, it's two other voices, both women.

When she returns she tells me it's Sylvia's sister and a friend, I tell her not to worry.

More than one week passes, there's no contact with or from Precious. I couldn't understand, until I meet Jake one day.

I'm sat having a beer when in walks Jake,

"Hi Terry, how are things?"

I tell him everything is good, he tells me he's doing fine also. We sit drinking and chatting.

"Have you seen Precious?"

he says.

I tell him I've been trying to contact her, but nothing. He tells me that her saw her a few days ago.

"Her face is bruised, she's been beaten",

"By who?"

I ask.

"She wouldn't say",

is his reply.

I'm fucking angry; I bet this is Sylvia's family. I ask Jake to tell her to call me if he meets her again.

I finally did get contact with Precious; we met in a bar of her choosing. She told me that eight of them went to her house. She went outside with them; they beat her in the road. I asked her if my wife was one of them. she told me no.

She asked me if I new anything about her braids? One was missing; she was frightened that they had taken it. These people and their fucking witchcraft

I was very angry; I went straight back to confront Sylvia. She admitted that she new about it.

A few days later I'm looking out of the window, I see her sister and friends heading this way. They get to the entrance of the apartment block. I open the window, I tell them to fuck off. I tell them they will not be coming into this apartment. I get some lip back, I tell them if they don't fucking leave soon I will be down there beating them. I threw so many fucks at them, they finally walked away.

Things settled a little between me and Sylvia. Things were certainly not settling in the country.

The dollar had doubled; it was now fifty to the pound. When I first came here it was twenty five. There were men training outside the city, they were so called war veterans. Everything in the news papers was negative, except Mugabe's government mouthpiece, The Herald. It was time to leave this beautiful city.

Sylvia had her visa, Josie her passport. I would go on ahead to England; Sylvia would follow two months later. By then I should have sorted out some accommodation.

I was going to make a stopover in Kenya for one month, my last little bit of freedom.

~~~~~

Chapter 23

Nairobi to Mombasa

I'm in Kenya's capital city. The taxi is taking me to an area where all the budget hotels are in Nairobi.

The light is starting to fade as the taxi stops outside my chosen destination. Looking around there's lots of other guest houses, if this one is full there are others.

From the pavement I climb three steps, walking through a single door I find myself in the reception area.

The room is three metres by three metres. There's a small counter, to the left a staircase.

I ask the man on the desk if they have a room, there is. I'm taken up and shown a room with bathroom. It's basic but it's good.

I go back out onto the street, it's dark so I will stay near the guest house tonight until I know more about the place.

I notice a lot of street kids in this area; they soon ask for money, I tell them to fuck off.

I find a bar fifty metres away from the guest house, I sit here drinking my first Tusker.

It's a beautiful sunny morning; I need to find my way around here. I've asked the people in the guest house for directions to the centre. They tell me a five minute walk and I will be there.

I start to walk in the direction they told me. A few hundred metres and I come to the road. It's quite busy, I manage to get across.

Driving in Africa is pretty haphazard. In fact I would say these people can't drive. In Zimbabwe it was bad, even the whites would run you down rather than stop. They say people will buy a licence here in Africa.

A short distance and I can see I'm in the city, some big buildings, famous hotel names, this is it.

Walking along I find a coffee shop, entering you get the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans.

I order a big cup of black coffee, a nice slice of cake to accompany it, that's breakfast sorted out.

I look around, the décor; the machines are all very old. It reminds me of the coffee shop in New Orleans, minus the band.

Breakfast finished I venture back out into this big city. Walking around I get a good feel about this city.

I notice the KLCC Tower. I think you can go to the top of this for a small charge, the views should be good. That's tomorrow's project.

I'm walking along when I find someone walking by my side. The man starts to talk to me, telling me how he smuggled himself out of Sudan in the boot of a car. He was at university there, and then he became a government target. Finally he tells me he's destitute, could I help him? I tell him,

"Sorry I can't".

He thanks me for my time then leaves me. Was his story true? I'm not sure.

I walk one hundred metres and find myself outside government buildings. A very large man appears from nowhere. He flashes a card from his suit pocket.

"Police, I need to talk to you",

he says.

He asks me about the man I was walking with, did I know him? I tell him he was just telling me about his problems, he needed some money.

"What is the problem?"

I ask.

He proceeds to tell me that the man is a known drug dealer.

"Did you buy anything from him?"

he asks.

I tell him that I only walked with the man; I have no idea who he is. He wants me to go to his office at the police station, I tell him that's fine.

We walk ten paces, now he's changing his plan. He's suggesting that we go for a coffee.

Something is not correct here, he maybe a policeman or maybe he isn't?

I tell him I don't want to; I want to go to the police station. Now he wants to sit on a nearby wall.

This man is a con.

Sitting on the wall I demand to see his ID again, he doesn't want to show me. Now I'm on the front foot.

I notice a cubicle about one hundred metres away, written on the side is Tourist Police. I tell him his friends are over there, I suggest we go and visit them. Soon he's running away.

I'd read about this scam, here it was in action. Obviously you have to play along, maybe he was a policeman. People can easily get caught, in the coffee shop you part with your money.

The day in the city was interesting. Returning back to the guest house I meet a man outside. He's trying to sell me a safari; I tell him I'm not interested. He doesn't push it; he accepts my answer first time.

We start to talk, his name is Adam. He seems a very nice person, genuine. Over the time I stayed in Nairobi he would help me a lot.

Here I am sat in a bar right in the centre of the city. The bar is like an island, cars travelling all around it. There's a big area outside with tables and chairs, ideal for watching the city life.

The afternoon is hot, I need this beer. I went up the KLCC Tower earlier, the views were good.

The table next to me is occupied by a man and a beautiful young Kenyan girl. I just keep glancing across trying to make eye contact.

The man gets up and goes off to the toilet. My chance for a few quick words, she responds without hesitation. The man returns to his seat, fuck it, why is she taken.

Time passes, so does a few more Tuskers. The man gets up, he's going, is she following him?

The man is gone, she's still there finishing her soda. We start to talk, I invite her to my table, she accepts my invitation.

"My name is Seb, and you?"

I ask her.

"My name is Lucy",

she replies.

She's trying to get some work, that's who the man was. I ask her if she was successful. The man is going to call her back and let her know.

I buy her a drink, we chat for a long time. I keep looking at her, she's beautiful. She's twenty two years of age; she has one child, a girl of four years. I ask her if she's married. her answer is no.

Drinks are finished, I need to get back and shower. We've arranged to meet tomorrow for coffee.

I've met up with Lucy a few times now, she's a lovely girl. Tonight I'm going to take her for a meal. She's going to sleep at the guest house.

Lucy is on time, not African time, that's a good sign.

We enjoyed our food and drink. Walking back to the guest house, we stop outside. I ask her to wait for a moment.

Opposite is a chip shop, I tell her I need to go and buy a bag of chips. She waits until I return with the chips. She asks if I'm still hungry. I tell her they're not for me.

We walk together to the corner, about twenty metres from the guest house. Here a lot of the street kids hang out, I offer them the chips. Soon they're being devoured by these children.

Back to the guest house, we climb the staircase. Turning left at the top we enter my room.

We start to kiss, her lips are soft. Slowly I peel away her clothes to show off her beautiful body. Her breasts are solid; they have the characteristic African nipples. I find it difficult to believe she has a child.

We both fall onto the bed exploring each others bodies. We make love for hours, it was so sensual.

I've spent some good time in the city, I need to travel. Tonight I'm on the overnight bus to Mombasa. The bus is comfortable, the view not so good, it's dark. That's the problem with travelling by night; you save on accommodation but see little.

We've been travelling for a few hours, not sure how many. We've come to a stop almost, there seems to be a little bit of chaos outside. Looking through the window I see nothing, just the lights from other vehicles. The bus seems to be sliding about; the road is no longer there. The rains have washed everything away it's just mud.

This is the main highway from the capital city to the port, what a state. We travelled on this non existent road for a few hours, finally finding tarmac again.

It's early morning and I'm in the port city of Mombasa. My first thing to do is find a room. The name I have for one guest house I show to someone. They give me directions, it's not far away. Finding the place I take a room, it's basic but clean.

Locking my door I start to descend the stairs, above my head I notice writing on the wall.

"NO ALCOHOL OR WOMEN ALLOWED IN ROOMS".

I think this is a Muslim establishment.

I start to explore the streets; it's got a good feel, a mix of African and Arab culture. I spend the rest of the day walking the streets, exploring this interesting place.

It's approaching six o'clock, evening is near. I stop at a small bar, ordering a beer I sit outside. The place is empty, apart from a girl and a man who are also sat outside.

I keep looking at the girl; she's wearing a tight fitting short skirt. Her body is in good shape. The man must be her boyfriend; he looks about mid thirties, her mid twenties.

After half an hour we start to talk, her name is Ruth, his name is John. John goes off to the toilet; I ask Ruth if it's her boyfriend? she laughs.

"No he's my brother",

she says.

I have a chance; I will ask her if we can meet sometime. She's a very attractive girl.

The evening carries on, we talk and we talk. I notice how much they drink.

I ask Ruth what they do for work. She's doing business, buying and selling, her brother works for government.

She asks me if I want to come back to their house for some drinks.

Is it safe? I'm not sure.

Sometimes you have to take a risk to enjoy. I'm not carrying much, I will take that risk.

They buy a few more bottles to take with them. We get into John's car and we're off, to where? I've no idea.

We arrive at a compound; the buildings do have that government look to them. Entering one house we are soon sat in a lounge, it's clean and tidy.

Bottles are opened, we are drinking again. John finishes his beer, he tells me he's leaving. When he's gone, I ask Ruth why he's not staying. She explains to me that he owns another house, that's where he lives with his wife and children. This one is given to him rent free; he keeps it for family and friends to stay in.

"Where are you living Ruth?"

I ask her.

"I live in Nairobi, I'm just here to do some business and visit family",

she says.

She sits closer to me on the sofa, we start to kiss, she's very passionate.

"Would you like to go to bed?"

she asks me.

"Yes I'm feeling tired",

I tell her.

She takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom; I think we're sleeping in the same bed tonight.

I remove her clothes, the body looks even better without the skirt. We're naked on the bed, I'm soon aroused. I go inside her, we start to make love. Her naked body rubs against mine, this arouses me even more. When we climax the feeling is one great pleasure trip.

This girl is fucking good.

I wake to find Ruth staring at me. I greet her, she greets me back. We have no covers on our bodies, we are lying side by side, our naked bodies touching. I look down; her shape is perfect her nipples protruding out from her well shaped breasts.

She starts to kiss me, her hand slipping down she massages my cock. She gets on top of me, my cock is inside her and we make love.

Love making finished, we get showered and dressed. I need to get some breakfast; my stomach feels a little unsettled after the beer last night.

I spend a good part of the day with Ruth. She takes me around to meet some of her friends.

We end up at the beaches; these are where the British tourists like to come when they visit Kenya.

Mid afternoon, I tell Ruth I want to head back to the centre. She finds a local matatu. I kiss her goodbye, we intend to meet again.

Showered and changed, I'm going to a bar I visited before.

Last time I left this bar a girl jumped into the taxi with me. She wanted to come and sleep with me. I told her no, but she was adamant that we would sleep together. I told her the guest house didn't allow women inside.

When we got to the guest house I paid the driver, he asked about the girl. I told him it wasn't my problem. He asked me to pay for her fare back, I refused. I went into the guest house leaving them both swearing and calling me names.

The evening had been a good one. I had sat drinking a few beers and watching a lot of beautiful black princesses strut their bodies about.

It was past midnight, I decided it was time to leave. The guest house was a twenty to thirty minute walk. The place seemed safe, I didn't feel threatened, I decided to walk.

I've been walking for ten minutes. In front of me are a group of girls, six of them. When I reach them they're all over me, tugging at my arms. They want to go and fuck.

Looking at them, I estimate their ages at between fourteen and fifteen. They're dressed like grown women, but they're children.

A car slows down; the driver is turning into a side road. Five of the girls run towards it, they surround it.

The one that stays with me is still hanging onto my hand. Without warning she puts my hand up her skirt and in between her legs. She isn't wearing underwear. I quickly remove my hand; I tell her I'm not interested. Finally she gives a childish goodbye and joins her friends.

These girls are very young, what will their future be?

I spent a few more days here in Mombasa. I've enjoyed the place very much.

Ruth, I haven't seen her since we parted that day.

Tonight I'm on the bus to Nairobi.

~~~~~

Chapter 24

Meet the Family

I'm back in Nairobi with Lucy. We've been chatting about travelling over to Lake Victoria together. She tells me her family lives over there; we could go and stay at her parents home if I wanted to. I accept her Invitation.

We've arrived in Kisumu from Nairobi. We didn't do the journey direct, we stayed in Nakuru for one night. Our plan is to stay here in Kisumu for two nights then go to a lodge near the lake.

Kisumu is a nice place; we wander around enjoying the sunshine. There's a lot of Masai here. They seem to be selling souvenirs among other things.

I need some cash so I find a bank. Transaction finished I count my money before leaving. I notice two Masai men walk into the bank. They're dressed traditional, it's strange to see them wearing watches.

The two nights we spend are good; being with Lucy is very special. The company, the love making, she's a wonderful girl.

Today we've left Kisumu and come to a lodge by the lake shore. This is a pretty basic place, not the expensive lodges the tourists want.

The tent is soon pitched; tonight Lucy will be making love in a tent. I think a first for her.

We walk for a short time, we reach Lake Victoria. The view is fantastic, this is a big lake. There's a strange tree, I ask Lucy what it is?

"It's a sausage tree",

she informs me.

Looking at the fruit hanging, they do look like sausages.

There's a well looked after lodge across the bay. I think I can see hippos in the water.

We find a man and a boat; he's willing to take us to the other side for a small fee. We get into his little rowing boat and off we go. I can now make out the shapes in the water, definitely hippos.

We reach the hippos, there are five of them. We pass within two metres of them, fuck; they could turn this little boat over if they wanted. One does a big yawn, the mouth is huge, and the teeth aren't small either.

Our man rows us back to the shore, it was a good experience. We carry on walking around admiring the scenery. This is a beautiful place to be.

We spent a few more days here and in Kisumu before venturing to Lucy's parents home.

We've just arrived in some small town; we took a matatu from Kisumu this morning. Lucy tells me we have to look for a private car that will drop us near her parent's home.

We find the car; it will carry five of us plus the driver. Soon we're moving out of this dirty hole. Last night there was a lot of rain, there's a lot of water about.

We've been driving for twenty minutes, Lucy is telling me to get out. I pay the driver, off he goes.

Lucy points, she says,

"that way Seb".

We walk a tarmac road, it's full of potholes. I think there are more potholes than tarmac.

We reach a track; there are two ladies and one man there. They greet Lucy then me. Lucy introduces her sister and aunt, the man is a family friend.

Lucy's sister takes my bag and tent, I tell her it's heavy I will carry it. She insists that she will carry it.

We start to walk the track, it's very muddy. The further we go, the harder it becomes to walk. The route is now going up, not a big incline, but with two or three inches of mud to walk through, not easy. I'm finding it difficult to keep my balance; I don't want to end up on my arse in this mud.

We reach the top, the track levels off. The scenery is fantastic, very green.

We arrive at the house, it's small, single story. It's almost surrounded by maize; the plants are two metres in height.

To the front there's a big charred circle, strange place to have such a big fire. It's very close to the house.

We are greeted by Lucy's mother, she invites us in. Inside it's very sparse, a small coffee table and two dining chairs. There's no sofa, floor covering or curtains. I also notice all of the windows are broken.

Next to join us is Lucy's dad, introductions finished we go back outside.

I ask Lucy where I can pitch the tent. she tells me anywhere in the front. Finding a good flat spot I soon have the tent erected.

We're slightly elevated here so the views are beautiful. To one side you have a small valley, at the bottom is a stream. Lucy tells me that's where they get their water from. The other side of the valley there are more dwellings. Straight in front of me I see rolling hills, everything is so green.

Lucy takes me on a tour; we drop in at various houses meeting relatives. Everywhere you look people are growing things; it must be very fertile here.

We get back to the house; Lucy takes me to the side. Here we find the women cooking everything on open fires. One thing that's intriguing me is small green bananas. They're peeling them and then putting them into a saucepan of hot water. I ask Lucy if they're sweet.

"No, they are like potato",

she tells me.

They're just going to be boiled like you would boil potatoes, interesting.

"Do you want a shower?"

Lucy asks.

"That would be nice",

I tell her.

She takes me to the back of the house, collecting some banana leaves on the way. She places the leaves on the ground just inside the maize.

"Take your clothes off; I will be back in a moment",

she says.

Is this real? I'm stood here naked in a plantation of maize.

Lucy returns with a bucket of water.

I watch her eyes looking at my manhood; I grab her and pull her towards me. We kiss, her hand caresses my cock, it doesn't take long for it to become erect. She pulls away laughing, she tells me to stand on the leaves. She then makes a quick exit.

Now I'm stood naked in a plantation of maize, with a stiff cock. How unreal is that.

Once the cold water hits my body, my manhood goes back to sleep. The shower feels good, I feel very refreshed.

The evening is spent eating the food the women cooked. The bananas tasted just like potato to me.

I ask Lucy if she's sleeping in the tent, the answer is what I expected. She can't, being here at her parent's home.

The mother tells me I can't sleep alone, it's too dangerous. I tell her I'm fine with it, I'm use to being in the tent alone. They all insist that I have to have someone with me. This is strange; I can't believe there's a danger from wild animals here.

The daylight is starting to disappear, night is approaching. We're joined by Charles; he's six feet, six inches, a big man. In one hand he holds a machete.

"Charles will sleep in your tent tonight",

they tell me.

I again tell them I don't need, they insist so I give up.

I'm not sure why I need this giant with a machete.

I had a good sleep, not sure about Charles? he's already gone. I need to find out what's going on here? something is not correct.

Lucy takes me off on a walk; this will give me the chance to ask her a few questions.

I ask her why the house is so sparse. She starts to tell me a story that is sad but typical of Africa.

"Her father was a policeman, he is now retired. The house was cosy, fitted out with some nice furniture, a comfortable place to enjoy his retirement. Elections were close; the politicians were stirring up trouble between the tribes. The other side of the valley is a different tribe to Lucy's family. One night they came across the valley intent on violence. Lucy's family fled into the maize fearing for their lives. The people had a free hand to do what they wanted. They stole the furniture, broke the windows. The charred circle was a hut where her uncle lived, it was torched and he died. The incursion carried on, more houses damaged and looted. Finally they met opposition and took flight to the other side of the valley. The police came the next day and monitored for a few days more".

Now I see why they wanted me to have Charles in the tent, he was a bodyguard.

I suppose Lucy's family live on the edge of the area occupied by her tribe. The further these people advanced the more house there where. More houses meant more people, more people meant more resistance.

We spent a few more days here before going back to Nairobi. The hospitality shown to me by these people was good. They worried about my safety, they fed me, they treated me like one of their own.

Back here in Nairobi, we've been discussing about going to see Lucy's sister who lives here. Lucy tells me she lives in one of the slums just outside the city. I've read about these slums, the most well known is Kibera I think.

I tell her I would be very interested to go there.

"When?"

I ask her.

"Let's go now",

she says.

Soon we're in a matatu heading out of the city. Maybe twenty minutes driving and we've reached our destination.

I follow Lucy; I seem to be getting some strange looks, not white man's territory I suppose.

There's a tarmac road, I see concrete buildings, some four storey high. The rest of the buildings are corrugated tin sheds, they just go off into the distance. Lucy tells me all of these buildings are illegal.

We leave the tarmac, entering into the maze of tin shacks. I see children playing alongside small trenches, this is the drainage system. I see human shit in these trenches; they're not just taking water. The health hazard here is easy to see. Disease isn't far away.

We reach a shack, Lucy tells me this is where her sister lives. I notice the drainage system or open sewer is just one metre from their house.

The children are playing outside; Lucy tells me they're her sister's children.

We knock at the door and enter. This is just one room, three metres square. I see one single bed, no room for more. Lucy tells me that the children sleep on the floor, her sister and brother in law sleep in the single bed.

There are five people living in this small room, it's their kitchen, lounge, bedroom. Everywhere is clean, they are organised. This is not how a family should have to live.

The shack doesn't belong to them, they rent it. How can people rent something like this to a family, it seems criminal to me.

I meet Jimmy, he's Lucy's brother in law. We sit on the bed; it's the only place to sit. Talking to him, he tells me he doesn't have a job, he's searching.

One of his children returns with a litre of Coca Cola. They have little in their life, including money, yet they go out and buy a soda for us.

One girl is cooking in the corner, she's introduced to me. Her name is Elizabeth, another sister. She lives in another part of the slums. She wants to take me to her house.

The three of us start walking through the maze of huts, sometimes we have to jump over the shit filled trenches. Finally we come to an open space.

Children start to shout to me,

"Father",

I wave to them.

Elizabeth tells me there's a white priest who comes to the slums; they are mistaking me for him.

We arrive at Elizabeth's house, not really a house a shack. It's no different than the one we've just left. I can't see any open sewage, that's an improvement. She tells me they have a toilet, it's shared by a few families.

She offers us a drink, Lucy accepts, I decline. Drinks finished we head back to the house. Elizabeth goes back to finish cooking, we veer off; Lucy is taking me somewhere else.

We're back on the bit of tarmac road. We come to a building, entering one of the downstairs rooms. Inside is a bed, wardrobe, it's a very nice room. Lucy tells me it's her room.

Next stop is a hair salon; this belongs to her sister, Rose. The building is just four wooden poles with a corrugated roof. We chat for a short time before heading back to her sister Rose's shack.

We arrive back to find Elizabeth finalising the lunch. We all squeeze into the little room, which is now very warm from the stove and the midday sun.

I'm given a plate of food, vegetables, meat and sauce. It tastes good. I give the children some money to go and buy some sodas.

These people have little, but their hospitality is wonderful. Would we be like this in England? I'm not sure.

I spent a few days in the slum, sleeping with Lucy. I visited Adam's home, meeting his wife and child. He also lives in the slum. I spent hours talking with Jimmy in the little shack he calls home. This episode really does make me think how unjust the world is.

How can there be a God.

One day I took Lucy to the park, she brought her little daughter with her. Lucy's daughter Eva is a beautiful girl, four years of age. Her father wants nothing to do with Lucy or his daughter. This is commonplace in Africa; no system is in place to help these girls.

Time had come for me to leave. I had got a ticket back to England via Dubai. Lucy came to see me off at the airport, she was crying, I was almost. I really like this girl a lot.

~~~~~

About the Author

Terry Minett was born in Cheltenham England. He has been married three times and has five children. He is much travelled, having circumnavigated the globe twice and visited many countries. He has lived in Zimbabwe, Senegal, Uganda and France. This book was written in Uganda, during his two year stay there

*****

Other books by this Author

One man's thoughts on Africa

Available at Smashwords:

www.smashwords.com/books/view/389422

Also available at major ebook retailers.

A Lonely Man

Available at Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/397304

Also available at major ebook retailers

Contact the Author

tcminett@gmail.com

https://www.facebook.com/terry.minett.7

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