Traffic in downtown Polokwane is already being diverted owing to extensions to the roads around the Peter Mokaba Stadium, renovations are under way, plans are being made, talk is big and voices are loud. But does Limpopo really have what it takes to lure tourists and tourism into the province ahead of 2010.
If the marketing of the province and the service within the industry is anything to go by, the answer right now, is a rather sorry no. I don’t dispute that the best thing this province ever did was become Limpopo. In the public imagination we have almost made the unbelievable leap of transforming ourselves from the previously far-right, Afrikaner ox wagon and lapa-boma-style spot (no blacks allowed) into the distinctly more laid-back “Limpopo — Africa’s Eden”, as the punters have now positioned us.
But the trouble is, everywhere seems to be Africa’s Eden these days. Everywhere is the land of the rising sun, the untamed heart of Africa, the wild soul of the African bush, the essential African experience (whatever that is, some have suggested bloody civil war) and I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to be in Limpopo, Mpumalanga, Kenya, Swaziland or Tanzania. And what is Africa’s Eden anyway? Are Adam and Eve going to come out and meet us? Are they going to be naked? What if I’m with a Muslim tour group? Or part of the Chinese delegation? Will I be allowed to eat the snake?
We have to develop our marketing beyond a generic level. The provincial slogan often used is “go wild, go Limpopo”, it is possible, sounds great — especially since I live in the province, and it makes me want to do something. I’m just not sure what.
Everywhere I look, the same bland generics seem to apply. Flip through our local brochures and guides and you’ll find a dreadful malady has befallen us. An inability to move beyond last century’s marketing concepts. All places are “uniquely located” and “superbly positioned”, views are always “breathtaking”, “panoramic”, “magnificent” or “splendid”.
Every country hotel is “gracious”, the surroundings always “tranquil” or “pristine”. The lawns always “roll” and the log fires unfailingly “roar”. (Sometimes the fireplaces themselves roar.) The atmosphere is inevitably “relaxed” and “intimate” and the service always “personalised”. Is there any other kind of service? All game lodges promise “unexpected luxury, comfort and beauty”. Surely it shouldn’t be unexpected at more than R1 000 a night? Their spas offer “trained therapists” — I should bloody well hope so — and the rooms have “private outdoor showers”? Oh no, we were hoping for communal ones! And how about the one I saw that advertised a “walk-in shower”? Oh look honey, you can actually walk into their showers, let’s cancel our other plans and go there …”
And if you think the dreariness of marketing is bad — check out life on the ground. I dropped into the Bollanato Tourism Centre in Phalaborwa — the town of two summers — a few Fridays ago. Some beautifully beaded products lay in quiet splendour beneath the fluorescent lights as a lone shop assistant talked loudly on the phone to her friend. There was no music, there were no brochures and there was certainly no welcoming committee or cold beer. And what’s with the town of two summers anyway? I would never ever venture into Phalaborwa in summer, not even dressed in ice blocks. Phalaborwa in summer is a ghastly, sweaty, sizzling, stinky place. At least they could dignify us with: Phalaborwa, the best winter destination in Limpopo.
I pressed on to visit the world’s biggest baobab, as I’d learned on the website www.golimpopo.com. One of the best known and longest living trees of Africa, the baobab tree, the upside-down-tree, or in Latin, adansonia digitata, is understandably a source of great lore and legend. Baobabs occur in hot dry woodland areas at low altitudes, are found mainly in Limpopo, which has snapped up the tree as one of its tourism icons, believing, like many, that few other trees quite embody the spirit of Africa like the baobab.
When I got there, a sad old woman shuffled out and shook her head. She didn’t have change for my hundred. I looked around hoping for a baobab representative or at least a cultural experience. But nothing happened. I just saw a big sign saying: No visitors allowed in here. And the world’s biggest baobab turns out to be an equally sorry thing whose insides have been turned into an English pub of all bloody things and the word “beer” has been tacked in brass letters on to one of its ancient limbs.
I can’t help thinking that we are just missing the funky factor here in Limpopo. I’m tired of ancient legends, war memorials, hominids and ethno-bongo culture. Where are the jazz festivals, rainbow restaurants and fourth-world nightclubs? We can’t just change the name and marketing of the product, we have to change the content of the product too.
And with 2010 coming up, we had better be sure who we’re talking to. What do we intend to tell these incoming football followers? And where do we send them after the game? Can you imagine a whole coach load of sunburned Scottish lads actually wanting to discover more about the painstaking evolution of the hairy hominids that once roamed these plains about 3,5-million years ago? Or are they more likely to head straight for Meropa Casino and entertainment world where the bongos beat, the music is loud and the money jingling.
And what about the lads from Botswana? Will they be booking to head for the land of the ancient Rain Queen, at whose mention the legendary Shaka even quivered? Will be they lining up at some dusty village to have their fortunes told by a sangoma, or sample the local sour beer? Or will they also be beating a hasty path to Meropa Casino?
Limpopo needs to be clear on its offerings, and clear about who we’re talking to. Our marketing needs to be more funky and a whole lot more fun. We need to let people know that there’s more to the province than ancient cultures and bushveld. Like a whole lot of nice modern peace-loving people. And then we need to make it happen.
Bridget Hilton-Barber is a freelance writer based in Limpopo province. She is the author of seven travel books