The Gorongosa Experience

The closer our bush plane approached Gorongosa National Park, the less evidence we saw of human habitation.  It is a very remote place.  As we walked from our two planes, our group of 19 people was warmly welcomed by the staff of Montebelo Gorongosa Lodge.  Each individual or couple was handed a key and pointed in the right direction.  We were exhausted and ready to settle in for the week.  As we walked through the compound we noticed warthogs, baboons, and vervet monkeys; they mostly ignored us as we passed by.  We were delighted when we finally found our bungalow, a round, thatched-roof building that was split in half, forming two rooms.  Annie and Paula were on one side and we were on the other.  The room was dominated by a large bed which was decorated with mosquito netting.  We had our own small bathroom and one chair.  We did have electricity but the lighting was dim.  This was home.

Why did we travel halfway across the world to this remote place?  My husband and I are volunteers for Zoo Boise, as are five other people in our group.  Two staff members were also on the trip.  Zoo Boise has a relationship with Gorongosa.  I won’t go into the details about how this came about but I can tell you that we help raise money for the park.  Why does this African park need American help?

Under Portuguese colonial rule, Gorongosa became a national park in 1960.  During the following decade, Gorongosa became a popular spot for Portuguese tourists.  The animals!  Famous people also made their way to this park—John Wayne, Joan Crawford, and Gregory Peck.  And then in 1977, two years after Mozambique won its independence from Portugal, civil war broke out.  The war lasted until 1994.  Over a million people died in the violence, and with them the majority of the animals of Gorongosa National Park also perished.  In 2008 a public-private partnership was formed between the government of Mozambique and the Carr Foundation (a U.S. nonprofit) to jointly manage the park. On the park’s website they proclaim, “By adopting a 21^st Century conservation model of balancing the needs of wildlife and people, we are protecting and saving this beautiful wilderness, returning it to its rightful place as one of Africa’s greatest parks.”  Our little group was privileged to see in person what is happening in and around this beautiful park.

People have asked me about the food.  The food we ate was raised locally, part of the partnership the park has with neighboring villages.  We had plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables which were safe for us to eat.  There was always fish, chicken, and often beef.  Our meals were served buffet style in an open air restaurant.  In the morning there were all sorts of delicious rolls and baked goods, plus meat or eggs.  And the desserts!  We had our choice of four or five desserts every night.  Dessert became a habit which was probably not good for our waistlines.  Meals were included with the cost of our lodging but wine was extra.  Bottled water was available in the restaurant and in our rooms.  We never drank the tap water.

Beginning with the day we arrived, we went out on game drives in two open safari vehicles.  For the morning game drives we had to meet anywhere from 6:00 to 6:30 a.m. (after breakfast) and we would be out until at least 10 or 11 a.m.  We would take a break for coffee brewed by our guides and supplemented with some little cookie or other goodie.  Some days it would be longer so we would eat a late lunch.  The afternoon game drives began around 2:30 or 3:00 p.m. and we would stay out until just past dark which was 5:30 p.m.  (It is winter in Mozambique right now.)  These usually ended with a sundowner.  The vehicles would stop together in an open area and the guides would mix gin and tonic for us all.  (There were other beverages also.)  There are no paved roads in Gorongosa and often our guides didn’t even bother with the dirt ones.  In the effort to find certain animals, they would take off cross country with all of us bouncing around in the back.  There are no facilities in the park outside of the camp.  No toilets.  If somebody drank too much coffee they would use the bush toilet.  Often this would simply be on the road behind the vehicle.  It was not safe to step into the grass on the side of the road in some areas.  Usually the only other vehicle we would see would be the one carrying the other half of our group.  No private cars are allowed to drive through the park. 

Our guides were amazing.  To be a guide in Gorongosa, a person must go through extensive training and pass tests.  These guides provided a wealth of information about the birds and animals in the park.  They even knew all of the Latin names.  Guides would find the animals we wanted to see by tracking them—they examined tracks and dung along the road.  Most of the guides we met are from Mozambique, except for the one in charge who is from Zimbabwe.  As of now, all of the guides are male but that will change soon.  Two young women, Carol and Gabby, rode along with us often and shared their knowledge.  They are studying to become guides.  Carol will be the first woman guide and she proclaimed that she plans to eventually be in charge.  (All the women cheered.)

When we returned from our sundowners, we would usually have some time to go back to our bungalows and then we would gather for dinner around 7 p.m.  After dinner people would usually head back to their rooms fairly soon to get a good night’s sleep before our early morning outings.  However, a favorite stop before bed was the open-air reception area, the park entrance.  This was the only place in the park where one could hope to connect online, although it wasn’t always reliable.  Upon arriving at this area in the evening you might see a dozen people or more staring at their cellphones, trying to connect with the outside world.  I often did this but sometimes after a few minutes of news from the U.S., especially politics, I was ready to log off and walk back home past the baboons and snuggle into bed, ready for the next day’s adventures.

Our Journey to Mozambique

The trip from Idaho to Africa, especially Mozambique, is a long one.  Gorongosa National Park is remote.  We knew that.  We planned.  My husband and I both had inflatable neck pillows and back pillows.  I had made a special trip to Barnes & Noble to buy books.  We had ear plugs and ear phones.  There was a Ziploc bag full of snacks.  My husband had bought me compression socks.  What else could we possibly need?

The flight from Boise to Salt Lake City went smoothly.  It went downhill from there.  First, we learned our flight would be delayed.  We finally boarded and pulled away from the gate.  Yay!  While we were out on the tarmac we learned there was a maintenance problem.  So we waited.  And waited.  The crew brought us water and snacks.  After 3 hours of sitting on the plane, we returned to the gate and deplaned.  We were issued new boarding passes and a meal voucher.  The departure time was pushed back again.  And again.  Then suddenly the flight was cancelled.  We were rescheduled and would have arrived 2 days later.  That wouldn’t work so we all scrambled to rebook.  We had to find our own hotel rooms; someone in our group did this for all of us.

After a good night’s sleep we returned to the airport and boarded a plane to Seattle.  We boarded our next flight a bit late but we were relieved to finally be on our way to Amsterdam—one day late.

We were in a wide body jet so there were three seats abreast on each side of the plane and four seats in the middle.  As usual, we got an “Enjoy your flight” from the flight crew.  Really?  I wonder why they say this.  It’s more like “endure your flight.”  For this international flight we got a bit more room, but not much.  We were packed in like sardines, elbow to elbow (which made using the little plastic knife to cut up our food rather interesting).  And for all the friends who told me I should walk up and down the aisles—clearly you haven’t been on a plane recently.  I tried this.  The restrooms usually have lines so you have to squeeze around these people and at one point I found myself in a galley.  The aisles are so narrow that you have to almost walk sideways at times, dodging knees, feet, and stray pillows.  It just doesn’t work. 

After 10-11 hours we arrived in Amsterdam.  We had time to find our next gate, use the restroom, and stand a bit.  And that’s about it.  The next flight was with KLM (Dutch airline) so we joined the long line for boarding.  Soon we were on our way to Johannesburg—another 11 hour flight.  This one was harder for me.  I couldn’t get comfortable.  I read a little.  I watched a movie which is what most people did.  I tried to sleep.  I ate what they put in front of me.  (The food was fairly good, actually).  We landed around 9:30 p.m. local time but my body had no sense of what time it was.  The airport was nearly deserted.  I was tired and ready for bed.  We waited for our baggage.  And waited.  It didn’t come.  It turns out our bags (mine and my husband’s) were still in Amsterdam along with the bag I checked with shoes for kids plus two bags of shoes another couple was carrying.  They couldn’t get them to Johannesburg until the next evening.  Great.  Our plane to Mozambique was leaving in the morning.  We were met by a local guide who got us to our hotel.  We were tired and grubby with no clean clothes.  We got to our room and the bed had a feather comforter and feather pillows, even though we had requested a feather free room.  (I’m allergic to feathers.)  We called the front desk.  And waited.  We called again.  Housekeeping had gone home and they were looking.  A young man showed up at our door with one pillow, all they could find.  Sigh.  I asked for a blanket to replace the feather comforter then waited again.  Finally we got the blanket and we could sleep.  It was after midnight.

We headed to the airport mid-morning after a breakfast buffet.  Our local guide took us to Woolworth’s so Bob and I could buy underwear, socks, and a couple shirts.  The women’s shirts were all long-sleeved.  It’s winter in Africa (although not really cold).  We were all directed to check in and security and before long we were on a small plane to Beira, Mozambique.  Following an hour flight we made our way through a tiny airport, passports/visas in hand, and met the pilots for our next flight.  Our group of 19 climbed on board two bush planes for the last leg of our trip to Gorongosa National Park.  My husband, a former private pilot, sat in the right seat next to the pilot.  After about a 30 minute flight we landed on a small strip in the park.  We were so glad to finally be there and receive the warm welcome from the staff.  We had left home on Thursday morning and arrived on Sunday afternoon.

Our bags?  They didn’t arrive until Tuesday afternoon.  We were so relieved to see them!  However, our two bags were the only ones that arrived.  The whereabouts of the three bags of shoes was unknown at that time.

Unpacking

The sun was just setting as the wheels of our plane touched down at the Boise airport four nights ago.  That moment marked not only the end of the day but the end of the trip of a lifetime.  In just under three weeks we had traveled from Idaho to South Africa to Mozambique and back to South Africa then on to Paris before returning home.  I realize that it will take a while to digest all that we experienced.  Of course our last stop, Paris, is freshest in my memory.  I am just beginning to go through the photos from my new DSLR, plus more from my little digital camera and some from my cell phone.  My bags are unpacked and the laundry has been done but how do I unpack what is swirling in my head?  I plan to share my experiences here as I am able—with photos, of course.