GONE BANANAS AGAIN. ZAMBIA

 20th - 26th Dec 2020

Back on Battledore Farm, about 20 miles west of Ndola up in the Copper Belt. I have written extensively about this place in blogs dating from December 2013 to January 2014, so don't intend to repeat all that detail. You can click-on to those past blogs if interested. Not much has changed in essence during the past 7 years although the farm has grown somewhat. It now covers 750 acres with about 180,000 banana plants, about the same number of gum trees (planted 10 years ago and now reaching maturity) and 9,000 citrous (orange) trees.

This area, as mentioned 7 years ago, is almost completely devoid of wildlife. It was all eaten a long time ago. However the domestic menagerie has increased. When last here I winessed the arrival of Rommel, the Rhodesian Ridgeback. He now has two comrades, Montgomery and Harry. Difficult to herd, they are pictured here with two of the current farm assistants, Andrew (left) and George. Franky I can't tell the difference between the Ridgebacks except that only Harry is allowed into the house.

There is also a Jack Russell terrier, Mrs Perkins, and a Border Terrier, Partridge, who recently gave birth to 4 puppies. One puppy, Porridge, remains on the farm. There is also a black and white cat which has no name as far as I am aware, which hides in cupboards and pees all over the place. It gets regularly thrown out of the house (when found peeing in a cupboard). I'm surprised it hasn't been eaten by the Ridgebacks by now. Actually the Ridgebacks look fierce and scare the locals (that is the idea!) but are incredibly soft and soppy. They run away from the cat. Harry is terrified of Porridge.

Left: Partridge and Porridge.

Right: Harry cowering behind a bin, hiding from Porridge.

There are some big thunderstorms here. Harry is terrified by the thunder and sits shaking with fear. Harry wears ear-defenders. Harry is a complete wimp.

Right: Mrs Perkins who is a pleasant and well behaved dog.

That sums up the domestic menagerie. No photo of the damned cat.

With Christmas approaching we planned a lunch party for 25. Left: The rather dismal, and only, effort at Christmas decorations. 7 years ago they were banned completely by mutual agreement. Standards are slipping.

The farmhouse here has been undergoing major extension works and up to two days before this party it was like living on a building site. Last minute efforts got things relatively shipshape. Hard work by all the staff was required, but it paid off.

Right: The Merry Lunchtime gathering. Gallons of champagne and wine were drunk and I can't remember when it ended, but it was dark and several participants were a bit the worse for wear. Most of those present are ex-pat farmers, some of whom had been kicked off their previous farms in Zimbabwe. Several had driven 200km from the Mkushi area which is mid-country and a big farming area. People here are prepared to drive long distances for a spot of entertainment No tiers hier!

Left: A street in the local village. All very basic. Many of the residents work on the farm.

Right: ....and a typical local house. No running water and no electricity, but swept clean around the dusty outside area. Makes us Westerners appear rather spoilt! Maybe the owner has a Lamborghini parked round the back and a second home in Gstaad?

Left: The local school. The pupils have to walk to another school 5 miles away to take exams. I had taken Harry with me on this not very long walk. Big mistake! He gave up the ghost and lay down in the shade of a tree here for 20 minutes before deigning to raise his idle arse. Not only is Harry a complete wimp he is also incredibly unfit. It gave me the chance to speak to one of the teachers who spoke excellent English and was very charming. 

Right: The farmhouse residents in what then resembled a building site. Martin (with Mrs Perkins), Andrew, Calo (visiting), George and Bwana Banana (seated), plus Partridge's puppies.

George produced a loud music device which produced this alarming display of dancing! (below)....if it works.

As mentioned, I don't intend to produce another blog showing all on the farm. Done that Dec/Jan 13/14 if you are interested. I don't know how long I will be here...either until my generous host's patience runs out, or I find another 'covid-lite' country, or until UK becomes habitable. It may be some time. Toot Toot and a Happy New Year to my reader (didn't we say that last year!)

ON TO NDOLA, ZAMBIA

 15th - 19th Dec 2020

Battledore Farmhouse, Ndola, Zambia

To Zanzibar airport (3 miles north-east of Stone Town) and began the now bureaucratic obstacle course of checking in for my flight to Ndola. Other than a ticket and passport one needed the $80 covid negative certificate, which had to be stamped as 'authentic' by an airport doctor (and it took 30 mins to find one). Then the Kenya Health certificate which I had filled in on-line which was a box-ticking exercise to state that you didn't have a runny nose or cough or high temperature etc. A bit like filling in a visa application for the USA where they ask you to tick 'yes' or 'no' on subjects like 'are you involved in drug smuggling?' or 'are you involved in any terrorist organisation?'. I mean, if you want the blasted visa why would any sane drug dealer or terrorist or person with a cough confess? Then an immigration desk to check passport, then the baggage x-ray machine. I had an empty bottle of konyagi as a souvenir. Confiscated! But not the large full cannister of shaving foam or anti-mozzie spray. There is little real logic in all this palaver.

Left: The packed departure lounge at Zanzibar. They were mainly Russians waiting to board a large aircraft to Moscow. Russia-Zanzibar travel tours are very popular. Note: nobody here wears a face nappy.

We took a small ATR-72 turbo-prop for the 1hr 45min flight to Nairobi.

I had a 13 hour transit hold-over in Nairobi, Jomo Kenyatta, airport, 7.00pm until 7.45am the next morning. Hence the need for an expensive (useless) covid negative certificate. I didn't need one for the 3 hour transit on the way out and I wasn't going to leave the airport. I despair. No face-masks in Zanzibar, but at Nairobi some of the passengers were togged up in biological warfare outfits! (right). There were about 60 Chinese going to Ndola (they now own Zambia) dressed like this. I suppose if you are Chinese you panic and do as you are told.

I met a charming young Ethiopian lady at immigration here who was en-route to Addis Ababa. She had not got one of those pointless Kenya Health certificates and was therefore not going to be let in. She did not have a mobile phone (stolen) so I offered to help by downloading the certificate for her to fill in. That was taking some time and eventually the immigration checker just told her to give a telephone contact number and let her in! What is the point of all this bureaucracy? Anyway, she and I had a long stop-over so we went to an airport café/bar and spent the night drinking expensive Kenyan Tusker beer and playing on my computer and her using my mobile to WhatsApp home. She spoke perfect English and was great company which helped to pass the night.

Arrival at Ndola airport at 9.35am and no 'covid' checks of any kind. The only delay occurred because having paid for my visa the printer broke down and had to be dismantled and reassembled. I was met and picked up by my host and on to his estate, Battledore Farm, a 30 minute drive. Once there we only had time for a quick pit-stop before host, his two Brit assistants and I sallied forth on the 320km drive south to Lusaka. This journey was to renew the assistants' work permits plus other administrative tasks. It took over 6 hours, via a stop for beefburgers and chips, and we arrived at our base for the next two nights, Lilayi Lodge, south of the city.

Left: The front of Lilayi Lodge. This is a very luxurious establishment surrounded by a small game reserve. We saw zebras, warthogs and several types of deer on the drive in.

Accommodation was in a series of these thatched huts (right) dotted along lighted pathways in the grounds.. 

Left:....with very comfortable bedrooms and all mod-cons. There is a patio with views out over the reserve. Not the sort of place I am used to inhabiting.

There is a smart bar and fine dining. We dined on exquisite Zambesi River freshwater crayfish the first evening. The standard of service by ever attentive waiters was superb.

Left: Breakfast. My host (who is camera shy) and his two assistants (Martin and Andrew) following a full English fry-up with Bloody Marys. This is, for me, a rather debauched style of living.

On into Lusaka where various administrative tasks were carried out. The city has some very decent shopping malls and a well known Irish Bar, O'Hagans. We went there. They advertise Guiness, Andrew's favourite drink, but somehow it is always 'not available at the moment'. Disappointing. However this was made up for by another visit to a bar for a refreshing glass or two of champagne (right). I'm really not used to this!

,,,....followed by a visit to a hotel roof-top bar for martinis.

Then on the arduous drive back to Ndola. It is not so bad during daylight but after dark there are numerous vehicles, mainly trucks, which have no rear lights. People lurk on the roadside trying to sell things and are nearly invisible. So much scope for a disaster, but we made it safely.

More to follow from Battledore Farm, much of which has not changed since my last 'non-Christmas' report from 2013/14. 

FINAL FLING IN ZANZIBAR

 1st -15th Dec 2020

Princess Salme

I think I've covered most of interest (to me) around this charming island, Zanzibar, and have been having a very relaxed routine in and around the town for the past two weeks. Reading about all the hassle in UK makes me feel a very lucky chap indeed!

I briefly mentioned Princess Salme in my earlier report from the Palace Museum. I found a small museum, near my gaff on Hurumzi Street, dedicated to her. The curator, and expert on all things concerning Salme and the Sultans, was a most extraordinary and charming chap called Said El Geithy. He was very dapper and spoke fluent 'posh' English in the manner of a 1950s country squire and was dressed accordingly. He had been to both London and Brunel universities and had lived in London for most of his younger life before returning here, his country of birth. He was highly entertaining...and knowledgeable.

Princess Salme was also an extraordinary character. She was born in the Mtoto Palace north of Stone Town in 1844, one of  36 children (blimey!) of Sultan Sayeed Said. Against the 'law' in Zanzibar that prohibited women of that era to read and write (it might give them ideas!), she did just that. She taught herself by writing out verses from the Koran on a camel's flat shoulder bone. Can't think how she got hold of sufficient camels. Anyway, she was a rebellious young lady and duly incurred the wrath of the Palace...a staunch feminist of her time. 

The photo above tells much of the story (click on to enlarge and you should be able to read it).

To cut a long story short, she fell in love with a wealthy German trader, Rudolph Heinrich Ruete who was based in Stone Town and whose residence was overlooked by Salme's apartments. She was smuggled off the island by Herr Ruete and, via Aden, ended up in Hamburg where they got married. She changed her first name to Emily. They produced 3 children, one of whom died in childbirth, and she became 'persona non grata' in Zanzibar Royal circles. Her husband died, aged only 31, in 1870. After his death she travelled widely via Beirut and London, wanted to go back to Zanzibar but was banned by the Sultan, and finally settled in Hamburg where she died in 1924 aged 80. She wrote two well received memoires (favourably reviewed by Oscar Wilde). One of her children was the German Defence Attaché in London for a time.

Right: Studio photos taken of Emily Ruete in Germany.

Left: Princess Salme, aka Emily Ruete, in later life.

So that, in a nutshell, is her story. Thanks Said, if you read this.

Right: The Old Dispensary, built in the 19th century by the Ismaili merchant Tharia Topan who was an adviser to the Sultan and banker to the infamous Tippu Tip. It was a charitable medical dispensary. It is situated on the waterfront near the New Harbour. The elaborate and beautiful façade fronts what is now a few boring offices with nothing of interest inside.

Behind the Dispensary was this rather smart looking house called either Kholbe, or Kholle, house. It aroused my interest because I couldn't work out what it was. It might have been a guest house, but there was no sign of public entry. I am confident that my ever rescourceful investigative team will find an answer. They did. It is named after Princess Kholle and is now an upmarket guest house.

I met, briefly, some interesting and amusing people in Zanzibar. Two escapee tourists I met in Antonio's Hotel, a post-university couple, were of note because we decided we wanted to watch the England v France rugby match on 6th December. Lots of effort went into finding a suitable location. After a few false starts (all uselessly promising to show it) we eventually found it was on a TV channel at the North@6º South bar. A great find and I thought England were very lucky to win. A jolly evening nevertheless.

Before leaving the island to fly (via Nairobi) to my next destination I had to get, on instructions from Kenya Airways, one of these blasted 'Covid Negative' certificates. They were done at a place called the Lumumba Clinic north of the town. My helpful assistant Ali (from Bottoms Up) took me there by scooter on Friday 11th before I was due to fly out on Tuesday 15th. The test had to be valid within 72hrs of departure. What a performance! There was a tent which contained several tourist victims, a desk where you had to produce a copy, not the original, of your passport, fill in various forms and pay $80. They didn't accept cash or Mastercard credit. I then had to get to a bank to pay the fee. On return with a receipt I was then, relatively quickly, shown into a scruffy room with a 'doctor' who took two minutes to stuff a swab down my throat. I was told I would have to come to collect the result, and certificate, on Monday. On Monday the redoubtable Ali again took me back to the clinic. No result and I had to come back the following morning when 'inshallah' the certificate would be there. Back again on Tuesday morning and, miraculously, there was a certificate, dated the 15th; negative, of course. Nobody, I was told, has ever been issued with a 'positive' one! They wouldn't know what to do in consequence. The whole process is a money making scam and a complete waste of much time.

So this and the preceding editions just about sums up my extended visit to Zanzibar. I had originally booked a return flight to UK on 12th November but subsequently cancelled it. I have enjoyed my visit enormously for all the reasons previously mentioned. I really can't think why I would wish to return to UK while all these ridiculous restrictions are in place. Off next to Zambia where I have been invited to stay by a generous host on his large plantation near Ndola, up north in the Copper Belt. I've been there before which is meticulously detailed in my blog from Dec 13-Jan 14. No silly covid concerns there; I'm more likely to suffer from alcohol poisoning.

Right: Ali, my kind, amusing and helpful friend from the marvellous (if unfortunately named) Bottoms Up hotel and Kazija, the cheerful lady who climbed 5 steep flights of stairs every morning (up and down several times) to deliver us breakfast on the roof-top, and who did my laundry. A brave woman.

More to follow from Zambia....I hope.

FURTHER HAUNTS AND SIGHTS IN STONE TOWN - ZANZIBAR

22nd - 30th Nov 2020

A ghostly dhow in the evening mist (or my lens had fogged over).

As promised in the previous, I will show you some other of my favoured watering holes. This may come in handy if you, like many, decide to escape the purgatory in lockdown Europe (or anywhere else) and enjoy freedom here.

First up, the Livingstone Bar and restaurant (left). This is in what was the 19th century British Consulate. It is situated on the beach at the Old Harbour, south of the New Harbour.

Right: My type of bar. No arsing about with fancy decoration, and reasonable prices. You can see the very Grand staircase at the back, a vestige of its British colonial past. It leads up to a large verandah and restaurant. There is a microphone and drum kit at the bottom of the stairs so maybe it gets a bit noisy on some evening.

The rather more upmarket and slightly more expensive 'North @ 6º South' restaurant and bar overlooking the beach near the Travellers' Café. Left: The rooftop bar which opens at 5.00pm. Despite the evidence of this photo it does get busy in the evenings. It also accepts credit cards with no % add-on. A rarety in this town. It has a good menu and excellent WiFi. It hosts 'events' in the restaurant downstairs.

Right: Adjacent to this place is the four storey 'Tatu' emporium. There is a lot of climbing steep stairs involved in these places as roof-top bars and eateries are popular (as at breakfast in Bottoms Up) and lifts are scarce. The 1st floor bar here features a pool table. I enjoyed playing pool with a few old cronies in my home town (until all the pubs were closed down, again).

Unlike in British pubs, here it was free to play. A local was interested in a game or two so I accepted his challenge. Fortunately we both knew and played to the same rules. I am no great pool player but won 2-1. Left: Celebrating my victory in typically modest style.

Right: The Travellers' Café. I may have shown similar photo before. Another beachside hostelry. A lovely place for a drink and food and seems to be a gathering point for 'escapees' from various countries. As with all the other places, a delightful staff. Here they are all cheerful girls. An irritant here is that they issue tickets for WiFi, as many as you want, but each lasts only 30mins and then you have to re-enter the next code. Can't think why they do it.

Left: Mama Mia ice-cream parlour with the delighful Italian proprietor, Sara, and two of her staff. 

I was a regular visitor to buy one of the little tub ice-creams. There was a large array of flavours to choose from. Delicious.

I have an important announcement to make here. Belatedly, I was given a card which they stamped every time you bought an ice. After 9 stamps you get a free ice-cream. I have a card with 9 stamps and didn't claim my freeby. SO, if anyone reading this decides to go to Zanzibar I can send them the card...they will get the free ice-cream.

I took a wander around the southern end of town, away from the central maze. I passed the Zanzibar Natural History Museum (right); not quite on a par with the version on the Cromwell Road in London. It had a rather sorry looking little model elephant in a cage outside. I resisted the temptation to go in.

Nearby in this rather elegant building (left) is the Zanzibar History museum I think it may have been closed. Apparently it contains relics from the Sultanates, but I'd seen enough of those in the Palace Museum described earlier.

There is a large area containing many various sports pitches, such as volleyball, basketball, and, of course, football; all of which were in a run down and shoddy state.

They obviously flooded during the rainy periods such as this football pitch (right). Apparently it contained fresh water fish and could presumably host water polo matches. Someone had left their motorbike in the goalmouth. 

Left: The Zanzibar Weightlifting Association HQ. I peered through the windows at some dusty ramshackle excercise machines and a few dumbells. I'm not sure I could be persuaded to join....just yet.

Right: Another popular entertainment was jumping off the quayside near the pavilion on  Forodhani Gardens. This was performed with much enthusiasm, little elegance and a big splash.

Left: Adding to a previous photo of the Forodhani Gardens next to the Old Fort is one of this defunct fountain. At least I assume it is defunct.

The interesting thing about it, and other garden accoutrements, is that they were built by public subscription to celebrate the Silver Jubilee of a Sultan and the gardens were laid out to celebrate the Silver Jubilee of King George V on 6th May 1935. Click on to enlarge and read.

Left: A curious 'badge' above one of the gates into the Old Fort. It looks quite old, on recent cement, and the motto reads 'Girl Guides'. Maybe there is a 'Boy Scouts' one at the other end but I didn't see it. Curious because it is written in English, so obviously British, but I can't imagine Girls Guides in these parts. I expect my assiduous research team will come up with some explanation. As always.

Right: More tourists. The numbers are beginning to increase but still much below normal, which is fine by me although not good for the locals.

....and finally yet another photo of a bleedin' dhow. They are beginning to feature rather too often but for some reason are very photogenic things.

These blogs are running a bit behind the actual date....so still more to come, and it helps to pass the time!

MORE STONE TOWN - ZANZIBAR

 22nd - 29th Nov 2020

The Anglican Cathedral

I can't remember when I last attended a church service. I'm afraid I am not very keen on all the kneeling and praying stuff. However, I decided out of curiosity to go to a Sunday service at the Anglican Cathedral which, as described in an earlier blog, is situated on the site of the 19th century slave market.

I had been told previously that there was an 'English' service at 11.00am. That was misinformation; the English service had taken place at 8.00am, well before my reveille. However, on meeting one of the Assistant Priests, who was, coincidently, called Matthew, he told me that the Swahili service started at 11.00am. Well I was here, so why not!

Left: The Rev Matthew. He was a very cheery chap, spoke good English and was impressively togged up. He said there were three of them about to conduct the service.

There was a decent sized congregation including several tourists. In fact people seemed to drift in and out as the mood took them.

The most impressive feature was the band and choir. The songs they sung and danced to were tuneful and skilfully harmonised. Very jolly indeed and had people dancing in the aisles. This was not so much a 'service' as a 'performance'.

It all seemed remarkably informal. Right: The senior priest, called Godwin as I discovered, conducted the service. It was all in Swahili of course so I hadn't a clue what was being said (not much different to English services in my experience) but it did not spoil the fun.

Left: The Rev Matthew delivered a sermon. It was not very long and I'm sure he spoke a lot of wise words.

I am probably being rather ambitious here, but I attach 3 videos taken with my little camera and with a shaky hand. If they are playable the sound quality is poor and does not do justice to the songs and music heard in situ.

The service lasted about an hour and all, even me, seemed to enjoy it. There is hope for me yet!

On to more general matters. The weather is hotting up and the regular morning heavy showers are disappearing. I have adopted four main 'watering holes' which all have their advantages and disadvantages. At least I can now find my way to them without getting lost.

Right: Antonio's Garden and Spa Hotel which is close to my little hotel. It features a decent bar with efficient and obliging staff. In fact all the staff I have met in these establishments have been similarly cheerful, polite and efficient.

This place also has a most convenient 'work station' (right side of bar) with a table, power point and even a map of the world on the wall. It is from here I am writing this, aided by a glass of red wine. Unfortunately the WiFi connection can be somewhat intermittent.

It also features a large dining area with a swimming pool and 'loungers' at the back (left) There is a large TV projection screen near the bar. I was persuaded by a lovely old Swahili local, whose eyesight is failing, but is a fanatical Manchester United football fan (he wears the shirt), to sit and watch a whole footy match between Man U and Man City (0-0) to give him a running commentary. I have little interest in football..but Hey Ho!

There is a danger aspect to this place. The dining area has several palm trees growing between the tables. These produce coconuts of course. Every so often there is a loud crash as a ripe coconut plummets to earth. Seriously harmful, if not just messy, if you happen to be underneath and get clobbered by one. Coco-nutted perhaps.

I had an interesting experience here. One morning I found my little camera had disappeared. The last place I remembered having it was in Antonio's the previous night. This was quite upsetting as it is a fairly vital part of my equipment. I went back and was told by the bar staff that they hadn't seen it. I rather gave up hope of seeing it again. Depressing! I'm normally so careful to check my kit...and no, I wasn't pissed the night before! Having resigned myself to this loss (I still had my mobile phone for photos), I had lunch there and then, more in hope than expectation, called in at reception on the way out. They had my camera. Elation! Apparently the Maasai night watchman had found it and handed it in. Amongst such poor people this act of honesty was impressive. I found the Maasai and duly rewarded him.

Concerning football, this country has reinforced my opinion that there are only three things which foreigners, even in the depths of Africa or the outback of Asia, all know about Britain. They are: Premier League football, the Royal Family and Mr Bean. Mr Bean's name features on several fronts, such as this boat at the Old Harbour (left).

This edition is long enough and I will describe my other haunts in the next. I hope those videos work...I'm not confident.

Right: Actually, before I forget, I must apologise to the policeman to whom I take my hat off when I see him. I got his name wrong previously. He is called Sergeant Oman; the cheerful and impeccably dressed upholder of law 'n order in central Stone Town. I have yet to witness any unlawfulness or disorder.