Xonghile: The Place of Beauty
A couple of weeks ago found me bumping along a seemingly endless dirt road in an old Mitsubishi Colt; hungry and tired after a nearly fourteen hour drive from Johannesburg. We had just entered Mozambique through the Giriyondo Border Post and were desperate to reach our destination, Xonghile, before sunset… but the rough roads of the Great Limpopo Transfrontier Park had other plans and our hearts sank as we saw the Ford Ranger ahead towing the trailer with all our supplies, pull over and stop… We’d lost a bolt on the trailer’s leaf spring. After an hour of crying and traipsing up and down trying to find the missing bolt, then crying some more while fiddling with all possible bolt replacements, the scuba diver in me finally laid tear-soaked eyes on an Allen key and cable ties… we were saved!!! A crude solution but a solution none the less!
We eventually made it to camp where we unpacked the essentials under the light of the full moon (including the torches and lamps that were packed at the very bottom) and then crawled to bed, too tired to care about double checking the rooms for an African Rock Python that we knew enjoyed making himself at home between the mattresses.
The sound of trumpeting and long, deep rumbles got us out of bed faster than any smart phone’s fancy alarm app… a herd of elephants had come to the camp’s waterhole for an early morning drink and were playing happily with the water and mud – a true African fountain that would put any found in Italy to shame. The fact that the water had to be trucked in did not seem to bother them in the least. Nor any of us for that matter, and our group included one of the main shareholders who would have to foot the bill. In fact any care in the world was completely forgotten as we watched a tiny baby learning how to use his trunk – and found it particularly effective for slapping a slightly older sibling. When said sibling tried to retaliate, mom stepped in and put an end to the scuffle.
The days began with our elephant family herd greeting us with every glorious sunrise and then stretched into exploring the land, stopping for impromptu picnics in the middle of the bush. As we made our way back to camp, the setting sun would paint the sky into a kaleidoscope of brilliant colour. And as we reviewed our day’s sightings around the campfire, a few lone elephant bulls, a civet and a duiker would join us for sundowners. Most nights we fell asleep to a haunting cacophony of lion roaring and hyena laughing as they competed for each other’s kills; broken only occasionally by the rasp of a nearby leopard who we never saw.
One day we decided to break the idyllic timeless routine, and accompany the farm manager on a two hour drive back into the local village of Massingir. It was a random Tuesday morning but the people were in full swing – bottles of Johnny Walker Red were being passed around jovial groups of men, music blaring out of garish Chinese stereos, youngsters racing motorbikes up and down to impress pretty girls – it was magnificent madness!! We headed over to what looked like a restaurant to try and find something to eat for breakfast. A young man was quick to come and greet us but when we asked for a menu his friendly face became one of polite puzzlement and he ran off. Another young lady, who we later found out was his sister, came over with chilled glasses, water, Savannah Dry ciders, gin and Tonic, and Dragon energy drinks and indicated that we should take a seat. We obliged, albeit rather bemused as it was only nine in the morning. In the short time that it took for her to pour the array of drinks for us, the man reappeared dressed in a crisp white collared shirt and smart waist coat – but still no menus. After trying to ask what they offered in the way of food, we were told, slowly and carefully, “eggs, milk and restricted spirits.” How delicious. What about chicken? A hesitant nod… Great – chicken it is! Mozambique is the home of Peri-peri after all!! We decided to play a game of pool while we waited for our chicken and had soon made a group of friends who chatted away in a mixture of Portuguese and Shona. A short while later we went back to our little table – now beautifully laid with colourful woven mats, and more chilled glasses and drinks. Having been warned that the nearest decent medical facility was three hours away, food poisoning was a very real concern but we sat down and waited… the next moment platters of chicken, vegetables, thick chips and rice were carried out by our smiling host and hostess – and the chef!! It was all beautifully presented. And absolutely scrumptious!!! We tucked in happily and I am delighted to report that none of us were ill… Ironically, when I asked for peri-peri – they brought me a bottle of Nandos from South Africa.
As I was sitting there, with my breakfast of chicken washed down with a Savannah Dry, I reflected that this was Africa: the unexpected adventure that takes you past your comfort zone and then flings you even further – and there you find that mysterious little thing called life. Whether it was creeping past lion on your way to shower in the dead of night, or lying dead still when you awaken from an afternoon snooze in a hammock only to find an elephant browsing off the tree that you are strung to, or just being pleasantly surprised by the hospitality of the people who share this beautiful land. Having been born and bred in Africa, I still find new things every day that make me fall in love all over again. Richard Mullin sums it up quite well: “The only man I envy is the man who has not yet been to Africa – for he has so much to look forward to.”