Ever so slowly I inch my way through the scrub, closing in purposefully on the result of what was possibly…
It began over a cup of coffee in a dingy coffee shop in downtown Harare, sometime in 1996. Hardly an inspirational setting, but Mr. McGregor is capable of seizing inspiration in even the most mundane of settings. Such is his adventurous spirit and incisive mind. As with most brilliant ideas, it came out of the blue, without preamble.
‘Imagine…’ said Dean, sipping his coffee with a faraway look in his eyes. ‘Imagine going on an expedition right around the country.’
After numerous delays, we finally left Victoria Falls on July 21st. As it happened, our departure was somewhat uninspiring, given that we left from the goods train station and followed the railway line from town.
Binga was something of a letdown. It was the first ‘real town’ we passed through, and to be honest I wish we had bypassed. We were delayed there for an unreasonably lengthy period (due to various factors but mainly because of bungling bureaucracy), and I found the town to be a dive, as I find all Zimbabwean towns to be these days.
We ended up spending a week at Tashinga before setting off for the Changachirere Parks post, which is the northern part of Matusadona, close to Spurwing Island.
Kariba gorge was, without a doubt, the most physically demanding stretch of the Borderline Walk to date.
In certain respects, the lower Zambezi stretch was a letdown. Don’t get me wrong, we enjoyed fantastic moments and sightings and met some fine people along the way, but delays constantly shackled our advance and we jerked along spasmodically.
The last leg of the journey before David Passed away was undocumented