Imire Weekend

While the house was being fumigated a couple of weeks ago, we took a day trip (that turned into an overnight trip) to a private game reserve called Imire that is only an hour and a half away. We were so engrossed in our podcast that we didn’t remember we'd made one of the two turns it took to get there. That added another 2 hours to the trip (yikes!), and we were so frazzled and late we decided to just stay the night at the lodge, which was a great idea. Imiri isn’t the fanciest place, but the 4500 acres of hills and savannah and lakes are beautiful, and the service and company were great. We stayed in the family suite that was in the main house, and there were four other thatched roof rooms around the garden. As everywhere in this country, life is spent mostly outside. The breakfast tables were under the canopy of trees on the wide lawn, and there was a stone terrace area for dinner with a big fire pit and bar. The camp is protected by a high wire fence, and that night in the pitch black when David was lying on the lawn and looking up at the stars, he was startled half to death by a herd of wildebeest that had silently crept up on the other side of the fence. First he heard a loud snort, and when he sat up, they stampeded off with his feeling that no fence could keep them from trampling him. That got his heart racing! We took a couple of trips out each day with the people who were staying at the camp. First day was a lunch by the river where a family of elephants joined us. Of course, Eliza was thrilled about the baby elephant.

We didn’t have to worry about the cow elephant being too protective of her calf because they are used to being around people. The park employees would put out food to bring them closer to us, and some of the elephants could even be ridden. Although we didn’t do the elephant ride, another expat family did (from a different African country). They were there celebrating the 7th birthday of their son who happened to go to Miles’s school. Back at the camp we got to know another family: a woman around my age who was pregnant and with her 2-year-old and her parents (Sue and Arthur) who used to be farmers in Mutare (eastern Zim city) but were kicked off their farm just last year. I had read When the Crocodile Eats the Sun by Peter Godwin which is a memoir that touches on the experience of white Zimbabweans in the last decade. Sue confirmed the accuracy of the portrayal of the situation, and later as we watched the sun set over the water from a viewing platform, we had an interesting conversation about raising children in Zimbabwe. Apparently “sundowners” (with drinks) are a staple of the safari scene. The next morning, I went on a walk with the Zimbabwean family and a guide, as well as a guy working with the American embassy. It was my favorite part of the trip. They knew a lot about the local birds and were good at sighting them. We also saw herds of wildebeest, zebra, antelope, and buffalo (from a distance!) with an elephant who thinks she’s a buffalo since she was raised with them. Later at lunch we got to touch her under protection of the park staff. Her trunk was prickly with sparse, longish hairs and was intimidating in strength and agility. They do use them to pull down trees, you know. There was also an enclosed pond with an enormous crocodile that was hands down the ugliest, scariest creature I have ever seen. It was much bigger an alligator, probably four feet wide and twenty feet long, and the speed with which it launched itself out of the water to scarf down a huge chunk of meat thrown to it was horrifying. (BTW, if you’re ever inside a crocodile’s mouth, punch or kick its inner throat because instead of a tongue, it has a flap that if opened will let water rush in choking it as it tries to pull you under.)