Recovery and Renewal: the Return of Wildlife Tourism in Zimbabwe
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MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTION % # TRAVEL Recovery and renewal: the return of wildlife tourism in Zimbabwe Nature tourism in Zimbabwe is undergoing a renaissance. In spite of recent political instability, a new landscape of luxury lodges and private concessions are offering affordable wildlife experiences, where the big five vastly outnumber humans. Monday, 7 October 2019 By Emma Thomson 8 : = 5 Kayaking on the Zambezi river at sunset. PHOTO BY ANDREW HOWARD PHOTO Her amber eyes, cocooned in wrinkles, seem to hold all of time. “She remembers it all — the good and the bad — and will pass the lessons learned on to her family,” whispers Scott, looking at the matriarch elephant standing before us on the dirt road. Coyly peeking out from behind her flank are five others: teenagers, toddlers and a newborn. One stands with its leg motionless in mid-air. Then the limb starts to rock gently back and forth. “See that,” says Scott. “That’s displacement behaviour; they’ll sometimes do the same by picking at leaves, but not eating them. It means they’re unsure.” Minutes pass, each of us observing the other in complete quiet, save for the flick of a tail, or fan of the ears. “They’re not running — this is a good sign,” remarks Scott, with a pleased nod, as these wandering grey mountains melt back into the bush. Until three years ago, this area — the Sapi Concession, in the far north of Zimbabwe — was a hunting ground, and, according to conservation manager Scott, the experience has left mental scars on much of the wildlife here, particularly the lions and elephants. But in 2016, the government leased the 463,000sq mile concession to eco-tourism operator Great Plains Conservation, which converted it into a private photographic reserve; a fine example of how the safari scene is evolving in Zimbabwe. Conservation organisations are leasing adjoining parcels of land to create ever-larger wildlife corridors and visitors have the unique chance to see, and be a part of, these efforts in their infancy. Many travellers presume peak wildlife sightings like this are rare in Zimbabwe because poaching was rampant during Robert Mugabe’s almost four decades in power — a period marked by political instability, corruption and a floundering economy. They imagine it’s not a superior safari destination. But that’s a mistake. Safaris here are among the most affordable in Africa, wildlife sightings aren’t marred by hoards of other tourists, and the guides are among the best on the continent, thanks to their rigorous four- to seven-year training. Wildlife sightings in Zimbabwe, like the encounter with these water buffalos, aren’t marred by hoards of tourists. PHOTO BY ANDREW HOWART Get ready to rumble “Did you know you can tell the age of an elephant by its dung,” says guide, Cosmo. When they lose their molars, food is digested less, so the more bits,” he says, poking a finger into a sun-baked ball of poop, “the older they are.” We’re inside the Chikwenya Concession, a two square mile swathe of land south of Mana Pools National Park — named after the four oxbow lakes formed by the meandering Zambezi river (called ‘mana’ in Shona language). This permanent water source attracts many large animals, including all of the Big Five except rhinos. But it’s the two concessions on Mana’s southern border — Chikwenya and Sapi — that offer a different safari experience. Located across the river from Zambia’s Lower Zambezi National Park, together they’ve created a huge area through which wildlife can move freely. And it’s here where travellers can learn about conservation in more detail, as well as having a more bespoke safari experience. It’s just Cosmo and me, as my elephant lesson continues. “They use infrasounds to communicate,” he says. I shoot him a confused look. “Stomach rumbling! It can travel up to 15km.” Our 4x4 is parked a good distance from three bachelors. “See how his tusk is pointing down,” says Cosmo, indicating the mismatched ivories of the largest. “They grow in unique ways just like ours,” he says, grinning to reveal his own buck teeth. “Did you know you can tell the age of an elephant by its dung. When they lose their molars, food is digested less — so the more bits, the older they are” We rumble on, the last of the sun’s heat melting the fading light into a paint-box smudge of purples, pinks, oranges and blues. In the distance, the pew-pew call of a black-backed puffback sounds like a ray gun being fired. Rounding a corner, we find more elephants moseying down to the river’s edge to syphon off the now liquid-gold water. While waiting her turn, an elephant does something I’ve never seen before. She rocks back and, balancing on two legs, starts stripping the leaves from a tree. “Mana Pools and this area are unique for this behaviour — they’ve done it to adapt to the arid environment,” explains Cosmo. Finally, we return to the new Chikwenya Camp. Meaning ‘scratchy,’ it’s a nod to the name of the last chief in the area, who, in 1915, was buried inside the bowels of a vast baobab just a few miles from camp. Beneath a star- studded night sky, I wander back to my luxury tent and run a bubble bath. I can hear a hippo munching grass outside as I soak, and wonder if leopards or lions are also prowling around my canvas fort. Sure enough, there are prints in the sand the next morning. We don’t find their owners, but by 10am the heat has risen enough to let white-backed vultures take to the air; eyes down, talons splayed wide, half-a-mile high. Cosmo points out mopane and baobab trees. The former release tannins into the air when being eaten to alert others to change the taste of their leaves, while the latter’s seeds can be roasted for coffee, he explains. We spy a waterbuck amid the bushes. “Know why he has a white circle on We spy a waterbuck amid the bushes. “Know why he has a white circle on his butt?” asks Cosmo. “Because he was the first in Noah’s Ark to sit on the toilet seat.” I can’t help giggling as we continue across the floodplain. Sapi Explorers Camp. PHOTO BY SAPI EXPLORERS CAMP Taking time to heal President Mugabe’s rule may have ended in 2017 but Zimbabwe continues to face challenges. “Bakeries are closed because importing the flour is so expensive,” my driver, Justice, had earlier lamented in Victoria Falls. “And most garages don’t have fuel; we buy it on the black market or go to Botswana,” he added, pointing to the queue already building. “I’m trying to build a small house, so enquired about the price of a cubic metre of sand. The quote they gave me was $400 [£325]; that’s a whole month’s salary!” In 2009, shortly after hyperinflation peaked with the issue of Z$100 trillion banknotes, the Zimbabwean dollar collapsed. The US dollar has been the banknotes, the Zimbabwean dollar collapsed. The US dollar has been the main currency since then, but in recent months a financial crisis has again taken hold, with inflation once more sky-rocketing. “We’re failing in lots,” agrees Cosmo. “When the country isn’t stable, donations shrink because patrons [NGO and charities] are afraid of supporting a bad president and then we can’t afford the fuel to patrol, and poachers take advantage of the parks. But there’s lots of positives too.” And that optimism is largely thanks to the dedication of conservationists. At the Sapi Concession, Scott takes me to visit the anti-poaching unit, based half-a-mile or so downstream from Sapi Explorers Camp, and introduces me to the head warden. Together with nine other rangers, he’s charged with protecting 463sq miles. “On average, we cover about 12 miles a day” he explains. It’s a big task. “A month ago, we found a poacher’s fire, but thankfully we’ve only had one elephant killed in the last two years. It’s low because our zone is buffered by other protected areas and is far from communities,” he continues. For three months at a time, the rangers live in small, circular corrugated- roof huts and are supplied only with basic foodstuffs. Zambezi, Chikwenya Camp. PHOTO BY ANDREW HOWARD PHOTO Great Plains Conservation recently bought two proper tents for the rangers to sleep in. They’ve given up on their vegetable patch because a local bull elephant nicknamed Sapi started visiting and raiding it few years ago. His ivories are short. “Hunters killed all the males with big tusks and reduced the gene pool, so now you don’t see elephants with big tusks anymore,” Scott explains. It’s the same with the lions. “Prides haven’t formed proper groups because the dominant males were killed by hunters, but that should change with the drought, which will weaken the prey animals and provide more food.” Scott, a warden and I watch Sapi ripping leaves off a tree in the unit’s compound. “What’s needed now is time — time for the animals’ behaviour compound. “What’s needed now is time — time for the animals’ behaviour to change. You can have all the park management and species conservation in place, but still we need time,” says Scott. Sapi Explorer Camp manager, Amon Johnson, agrees: “I came one year after hunting ended and everything was skittish.