A Travellerspoint blog

Day 100 – Procuring Guides

31st December 2011

rain 19 °C

Arriving at our lodge the previous night we were little unsure as to what we should expect for twenty dollars each per night. Delight filled us from head to toe as we walked in to a four bedroom, thatched lodge complete with log burner and interior thatching to boot. An old wagon wheel, restored as a chandelier hung from the roof beams some twenty or twenty five feet above. The curtains had flower patterns and a pelmet. The stone walls screamed, Oxfordshire village, and the wooden floors were pleasant under our bare feet.

Another night of listening to mosquitoes through a net ensued. Which is still an incredibly unsettling feeling, and despite the net Somers took three head shots as her brow came against the net mid sleep. The morning came with the sun and blue sky. There was no time for idling. The tent was put up to dry, the cover came in for repairs, [we had both spare canvas and contact adhesive like good boy scouts,] the mattress was put out for another round of drying and the underpants were washed saving us a solid six dollars. The smell of fresh filter coffee accented the crackling of the eggs frying in the pan; a noise punctuated only by the pop of the toaster signalling breakfast was almost ready.

The bulk of the day was spent with Somers reading and me writing the last ten days of our blog. At three o’clock we went down into the village to find out more about hiking up to the summit of Mount Binga and find some diesel. Laura got chatting to a guy that led her to a dreadlocked chappie named Collen who was a mountain guide with his friend Morgan. We went round to the Blue Moon Mountain Club for a beer and to chat more about the summit. They could guide us for the next three days, business was very slow and so other than asking that we would pay at least a basic sum they told us we could decide when we finish. The club, that sounds so civilised a venue for a chilled beverage was in fact the basement of the petrol station. The slope of the hill meant it was at ground level and opened onto a small beer garden. The dingy brown walls of the Blue Moon held a few posters and only spirits and beer were served at the bar. We arranged to meet our guides at seven thirty the following morning, New Years Day. From there we could head to the base camp where our next adventure would start.

At our extremely comfortable lodge we got the fire roaring, roasted squash, mushrooms and tomatoes and baked some potatoes. As our under crackers dried in front of the crackling fire we drank wine and, eventually, I stopped writing this blog and paid attention to my lovely girlfriend who was sat cross legged writing her scrap book on the settee. We drank red wine and counted down the end of the year and the end of the first half of our trip. One hundred days down, one hundred days to go.

Posted by ibeamish 02:56 Archived in Zimbabwe

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