My last Going Places for this year is a reflection of a truly special place.
When I was a mere nipper, way back in the mists of time (well, 30 years ago to be exact) my father lived in a place called Somabula, near what was once Gwelo, in what was once Rhodesia.
Home in those days was a makeshift camp not far from the Somabula railhead on one of the most important rail routes in Africa, running basically from Cape Town, via Beit Bridge, Bulawayo and Lusaka all the way up to the Tanzanian capital and main East African port of Dar es Salaam.
My dad worked for the railways as a surveyor, and trains were his passion, which is how I first came to visit Victoria Falls, aboard the overnighter from Bulawayo. In those days you could buy a ticket for two nights on the train and a full day at the falls, using the facilities of the Victoria Falls Hotel as a day guest. From there you could explore the falls or play golf at nearby Elephant Hills Country Club.
I caught my first glimpse of the smoke that thunders from the gardens of the Victoria Falls Hotel while trying to sneak up on some unsuspecting baboons.
The Victoria Falls Hotel was the hotel in Southern Africa. A grand dame of African hospitality and as stately and grand as her Edwardian origins, she shone from every nook of her rambling colonial façade. For me, at least, it was love at first sight. I dreamed of staying there, but never did, spending instead numerous single days as a temporary guest courtesy of Rhodesian Railways on various similar trips from Bulawayo to the falls.
The hotel is still there, a monument to better times and in some ways a symbol of hope for struggling members of the Zimbabwean tourism industry, determined to weather the political storm President Robert Mugabe has unleashed on his country.
Established in 1904, the hotel has been a drawcard for royalty and celebrities alike for almost 100 years. She is as grand and graceful as ever, only the situation around her has changed.
Her ownership is one of them. When I first entered her elegant reception area, the Victoria Falls Hotel displayed the old Southern Sun insignia. These days she is part of the Zimbabwe Sun leisure group, which also owns and runs two other major tourism drawcards in Victoria Falls — the Kingdom Hotel and Casino and Elephant Hills. Yes, where once was my father’s favourite golf club is now a rambling international hotel that has grown in size and stature to match its illustrious stablemates.
The Victoria Falls Hotel is possibly even more gorgeous than I remember. A glimpse of her on a recent trip, standing in all her glory close to the bridge and within sight of the falls (she has her own private pathway to them) brought back all the childhood memories.
I could almost hear the steam engine’s whistle and, if I closed my eyes, I could almost transport myself back in time and just about smell that unique odour only a steam train gives off.
It’s amazing what a fleeting glimpse of something so significant to your past can do for you. I always loved Vic Falls. I still do.
And if you can get round the politics and make peace with who is in charge, it’s still a beautiful place to visit.
All that’s left for me now is to wish all of you a wonderful Christmas, full of good things and special times and an equally splendid New Year celebration. It is a time for reflection, for raising a glass or two to loved ones no longer with us, for celebrating the love only a family can provide and for looking forward to what the fast-approaching new year will bring.
Just a final wish — wherever you travel over the holiday period, do it safely and soberly.