Gorongoza National Park


When those gorgeous bird boffins Janee Clegg and Bridgie Holland phoned to say that they were thinking of going to Gorongoza National Park and would we like to join them we were of course privileged and delighted. A first time trip for both Pat and I. The Clegg party spent the night with us but then left for Gorongoza early the next morning. We were unfortunately delayed as we had a few serious matters to attend to in Chimoio. We had just leased a workshop with a house in the town for a princely sum of money. Alfredo our new landlord ingratiated himself even further by painting the walls of the house green without consulting his new tenants on colour preferences. Unfortunately he had also omitted to inform us that there was no water either. Now I can live with green walls and small windows but not without water. So Alfonso emissary to Alfredo had to be summoned immediately so we could voice our displeasure. Alfonso squatted down and peered up the taps for some strange reason, shaking his head mournfully and mumbling away in Portuguese. I took him aside and explained gently that Pat and I have to have water, not only to wash with but I mimed sitting on the toilet with a strained look on my face to emphasize the No. 2 situation. He looked positively shocked at this unladylike behavior and perhaps my performance was far too realistic because he sprinted off at a gallop assuring us that Alfredo would be told pronto. I wasn't surprised when we didn't see Alfonso again but I had the enormous good fortune of bumping into our landlord Alfredo rather unexpectedly in a shop. I managed to corner him in the hardware section and I tried to explain in my very limited Portuguese and without having to demonstrate the toilet thing again that we were paying a vast some of money for a green house with no water. He held up his hands in self defence and shrugged in the continental way telling me "Senhora amahna it will definitely be fixed." He obviously realized that the wrath of a woman is the same in all nationalities and headed at a run for the door. I tried to think of something really rude to shout after him in Portuguese but nothing brilliant came to mind.

As nothing was forthcoming on the water front from Alfonso and Alfredo, Pat and I bathed in a plastic bucket with a teaspoon of water and a flannel which wasn't that bad and headed off in good spirits to join the others. Gorongoza is about an hour and a bit from Chimoio. It was such a perfect day, deep indigo skies flecked with fluffy clouds. It was an uneventful journey through amazing woodlands, until we arrived at the main gate. We made the grave and rather unfortunate error of driving too close to the barrier which incensed the park guards enormously because they could not read our number plate. We then had to reverse rapidly and park in the appropriate place to redeem ourselves. Once the guards were placated we were able to fill in the gate records and we were really pleased to note that Gorongoza has lots of visitors from countries all over the world which is an encouraging sign. We then arrived at Chitengo Camp only to err again, we went through the exit instead of the entrance which caused the guard such severe anxiety he almost threw himself in front of the car trying to stop us. Pat braked violently missing him by inches and I ducked to avoid concussion as camping items on the back seat flew like missiles round the car. "They seem to take gate duty very seriously in Mozambique" said Pat looking at me in wide-eyed astonishment. After a lengthy discussion which neither of us quite understood and lots of hand gesticulations on our part we were directed sternly and with much flourish to the reception area where we had to pay our camping fees.

We passed the camp site to see that our friends were all set up and delighted to see that they had put up our tent as well, how nice is that. We waved cheerily to Keith Holland who was lounging in a chair with a cold beer in his hand. I left Pat in the car while I bounded into reception to attend to payments. This shouldn't take a minute Pat I shouted reassuringly over my shoulder, Wait for me!!. Well an hour and a half later I was still there while the cashier had his finger poised over the calculator on his umpteenth attempt at converting US dollars to metacais and then of course they had no change for the US that I handed over. I staggered out feeling the worse for wear with a thick wad of receipts and a headache. What in God's name have you been doing in there? Keith Holland enquired in stunned tones when we eventually made an appearance." I thought you had been arrested" Chitengo Camp which was once Renamo's headquarters lay in ruins around us. It looked as though every bomb and rocket during the civil wall had fallen on it. Where are the loos? I asked Keith I'm bursting, he pointed languidly to two toilets sticking out of a pile of rubble "That's the ladies I'm afraid. he grinned" I did eventually find the ablutions hidden behind a bamboo structure. Just sitting round the camp we were awed by the abundant bird life. We fortunately had Keith on hand to identify them but we soon exhausted him and he fell asleep. The others returned much later bursting with excitement at all the birds they had sighted. The wine was opened and we sat down to a delicious meal under a diamond crusted sky. I have never in my life seen a more gorgeous African night. We were soon in party mode and Janee decided we should go off and meet our fellow campers. In no time at all Bridgie, Annie Cheese and I were meeting people of all nationalities and overwhelming them with our bonhomie and limited Portuguese. After we had enthusiastically hugged and kissed our way round the camp site we staggered back to camp to relate the nights events to the unfortunate few still awake.

The next morning we went game viewing and took a packed lunch. We were amazed at the incredible beauty of this absolutely wonderful park. Huge flood plains stretched before us for miles and miles. Palms and fever trees were abundant and the bird life was absolutely incredible but so were the mosquitoes who obviously hadn't tasted humans for awhile. Sadly we didn't see much game other than waterbuck, warthog, impalas and oribi but we did see evidence of elephants. When Paul Dutton an environmental consultant was called in to do a post war aerial survey in 1996 he apparently broke down with grief. He was involved with Gorgongoza before the war and out of 18,000 buffaloes only 13 remained, 13 elephants out of 700 were sighted and out of 500 hippos it appeared that only 10 were counted. The game had been totally annihilated. Things have obviously improved since 1996 but it would be nice to see buffaloes on the plains again. (This information is taken from Justin Fox's book through Mozambique with Two Hands Waving). This reserve also boasted huge forests of hardwoods but now a lot of the park has been denuded. We spread a cloth under the shade of a huge Sausage tree, laid out a most divine picnic, opened a bottle of chilled white wine and lost ourselves in the ambience of this most stunning reserve. We had to spray ourselves liberally with mosquito repellant so if you go don't forget yours. This letter is dedicated to the Cleggs and the Hollands for letting us and the Cheesies share such a wonderful experience in one of Africa's most special places.!!

Mandy Retzlaff
Bvumba
Zimbabwe

For those of you who will write in and ask for an update on the water situation in the Chimoio House yip there is water too but that is the next story. A very big thank you to all the people who write in and tell me how much you enjoy my stories thank you. I am so honoured that so many Zimbabweans all over the world enjoy them I enjoy writing them for you and I am so pleased they make you smile.