Destination: Africa
Sunday - 10 Jun 2001
En route from California to Harare
,
the capital of
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Zimbabwe
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A pen & ink sketch of the Aug '99 eclipse
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Decisions, decisions...
 When I returned from my Greek Eclipse Odyssey in August 1999, I was eager to see another total solar eclipse of the Sun. I had just witnessed the very last total solar eclipse of the 20th century. The first total solar eclipse of the 21st century wouldn't happen until June of 2001. They were like matching bookends; if you saw one, then you just had to see the other. I had two long years to save money while I waited for the Sun and Moon to cross paths once again, performing their intricate dance of light and shadow in a precise moment in space and time.
Wanting to make the most out of this trip, the decision was made to travel with the same tour company that had arranged my trek to Greece, Specialty Tours. I did not hesitate to travel with them again. More than just 'tour guides', they were friends. If anything came up that needed attending, they were on top of it. We received the best care both aboard ship and on land. From the minute we arrived in Greece, they were there to help us have the best vacation possible. Their services for this African Eclipse Trek were equally impressive. In preparation for this journey, they offered a wide selection of travel packages and price ranges. The tour was to include stops at three different safari lodges prior to our witnessing the eclipse. Knowing that I may never get the chance to travel to Africa again, I carefully chose a package that would have the best opportunity for seeing the widest variety of animals in the region.
With the tour portion of the trip decided, I made arrangements to remain in Africa for an extended period after the eclipse. The safari lodges included on the tour were all in Zimbabwe, within whose borders we would stay to witness the eclipse. At the conclusion of the tour, we would spend a final night in Harare, the capital of Zimbabwe. This would place me a scant 400 miles from one of my relatives, who has spent most of her adult life living in neighboring Zambia. How could I travel so far, be so close and NOT go visit? When I told her of my plans, she was absolutely delighted. I was to be the third family member to visit her on that faraway continent.
Last Flight - mural in the metro station
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Journey of a thousand miles... Sun., June 10 2001
Twenty-two months elapsed since the last eclipse. The big day had finally arrived. I spent the morning doing 'last second' things: making a photocopy of my passport, packing my bags, etc. Most everything was already prepped, so I took some time and had brunch with a friend. Afterwards it was a frenzy of packing, unpacking and repacking my bags. At least 3 times. My bags, passport, cameras, film and tickets were all at the ready. I took a final shower before heading out the door.
It has been said that 'A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.' This trip began inauspiciously enough with a single step onto a passenger car in the Los Angeles subway system. A good friend came by precisely at 4 p.m. to give me a lift to the local Metro station. Ten minutes later, we arrived at the subway depot. Stepping out of my friend's SUV, I grabbed my bags, said goodbye and watched him drive off. I was so nervous, I almost vomited right there in the parking lot. I lingered a moment longer, basking in the golden afternoon light. Taking a deep breath, I headed into the metro station to begin my journey.
Most trips to Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) involve blackmailing a friend or relative into driving you the 45 minutes across the L.A. Basin.  Then your hapless victim, aka 'the driver', has to face another 45 minute drive home. One direction or the other is usually spent in heavy traffic. Instead of putting anyone through that, I opted for the subway. It took the same amount of time to get to the airport, costing a mere $1.60 for the whole trip, including the 2 transfers. Shuttle trips take the same amount of time and cost anywhere from $25 to $50. "Okay class! Time to review: Which is more cost effective? Paying $1.60 for a subway ride to the airport, OR spending up to $50 for the same trip in a stuffy, crowded van?" Not much of a decision there, is it.
Arriving at the airport, I went to the British Airways counter and checked my bags in, all the way from LAX to my final destination of Harare, Zimbabwe. That saved me from having to lug my things through several airports. Waiting for the boarding call was an unpleasant experience; Nerves, anxiety and Larium all joined forces in giving me an upset stomach. Larium was the prescription medication I had to take once weekly to prevent contracting Malaria. Even taken with food as recommended, it gave me mild stomach upset for a portion of the day. As part of its regimen, I was directed to begin dosages one week before the trip, and continue taking it for three weeks after I returned home. In addition to the anti-Malaria tablets, it was necessary for me to receive a Yellow Fever shot to prevent being infected with that disease. I would be required to produce a Yellow Fever Certificate before being allowed entrance into Zambia. I received that shot in April. Thankfully, its good for 10 years. A few days after being injected with a mild strain of the virus, I developed symptoms of the disease. If what I experienced was a 'mild' case of the disease, I pity those who suffer through its full effects.
My flight was scheduled to depart LAX and fly 11 hours nonstop to London, England. Each seat had a personal video monitor offering a variety of channels to view while airborne. There were over 7 different movies from which to choose. Having seen most of the selections, I elected to watch "Sweet November" featuring Charlize Theron and Keanu Reeves. Not a particularly good film, but it was entertaining. Okay, it was only slightly better than staring out the window and seeing a dark and featureless landscape. The passenger seated beside me spoke very little English. He was on his way to Warsaw. We only really had one language in commom: Pantomime. It's amazing how much one can convey through pantomime.
Not Quite There... Mon., June 11, 2001
London, England. The flight arrived on-time at 2:40 p.m. Most European airports and train stations employ 'military time' to avoid confusion with their schedules, so, as my Euro-brethren would say, it was 14:40. After a nearly 5 hour layover, my next flight was scheduled to leave at 19:30. Then I was to fly another 11 hours nonstop to Johannesburg, South Africa.
Arriving in South Africa - Tues June 12, 2001
During the London-to-Johannesburg leg of the trek, just past the 'bewitching hour' of midnight, I caught my first glimpse of Africa. All the lights onboard the plane had been turned off so everyone could sleep. Per the airline's request, the blinds on the windows had been drawn shut so when the sun rose, it's first rays of light wouldn't wake anyone. I was in a window seat. I raised my window blind in an attempt to spot any city lights below. There were no city lights to be seen. Instead, I was treated to an African thunderstorm. The cloud tops lit up repeatedly. It was quite spectacular. Even though I couldn't hear the thunder, I'm sure it must have been incredibly loud, judging by the size of the flashes. To make up for the lack of thunderclaps, I donned the airline headphones and tuned in to a "sounds of nature" channel on the inflight radio system. Closing my eyes, I drifted off to sleep while I imagined that there were herds of elephant and giraffe far below, taking shelter from the storm beneath a vast canopy of trees...
Later that morning on the same flight, the other passengers began to stir. Eventually the window blinds were raised, affording us our first daytime view of the massive African continent while aloft somewhere over South Africa. The clouds around us were a literal rainbow of colors. Even though I was on the opposite side of the plane from the actual sunrise, the technicolor display outside my window was amazing.
In Johannesburg, I was faced with a 4 hour layover, followed by the 2 hour flight to my final destination of Harare, Zimbabwe. I whiled away the time by writing and sending postcards to family, friends and to the company where I'm employed, so my co-workers could keep track of where I'd been. As cosmopolitan as Johannesburg was, there were no internet terminals available, like there had been in London, so I was not able to email my family as promised. At 9:15, I checked for my flight's listing on the status boards. It was scheduled to leave at 10:15, but I didn't see it mentioned. There were tons of flights crowding the status board, and all of them were departing before mine. I was sure it would appear eventually. It had to. I had a boarding pass for it.
Once onboard the northbound plane, I found myself seated next to a German mechanical engineer, an expatriate that had been living in South Africa for the last 30 years. He was flying to Zimbabwe to perform some repair work on an old printing press in a factory. Since many factories were being held ransom in the recent land disputes in Zimbabwe, he was receiving hazard pay for this assignment. Considering the possible danger he was facing, he didn't seem too concerned. We chatted for the bulk of the flight.
Map showing route taken to Harare
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Finally! Harare! - Tues June 12, 2001
I was nervous and excited when I finally set foot on the tarmac at Harare; 33 hours, several thousand miles, countless timezones, 3 continents and 2 hemispheres after my journey had commenced, the real adventure was about to begin. I met 2 other 'eclipse chasers' at the airport while waiting for the shuttle to drive us to our hotel in downtown Harare. Our shuttle driver, Mr. Narange, was a delightful man that gave us the "low down" of the political climate in Zimbabwe. It was very interesting and enlightening to hear a "local's" point of view of such things.
Before we ever left the U.S., there had been problems reported in the news of radical military groups killing off local farmers. People that had originally planned on participating in this trip backed out at the last moment. All told, I believe that 150 people decided it wasn't worth the risk and changed their travel plans, never going to Zimbabwe to see the eclipse. As the trip progressed, I felt sorry for them, for I feel that they missed out on the adventure of a lifetime. Mr. Narange explained how the economy was already failing before the latest news reports made it to U.S. newspapers. Tourism had dropped 78% in a year. Many local tour companies went out of business. Though we saw an unusual number of guards at the hotel (2 and 3 armed men on each floor), we never experienced any trouble. It seems that even in the middle of a land dispute involving local farmers and the military, the tourists were left alone because they were bringing in desperately needed dollars.
The 30 minute ride from the airport to the hotel carried us through the middle class suburbs and on into 'The Old City'. There were numerous people alongside the highway with push-carts full of oranges, while many pedestrians and bicyclists also vied for room on either side of this 2 lane highway. In the course of our conversation, the gas situation was spelled out for us. For the duration of our stay in Zimbabwe, there were massive shortages leading to cars being abandoned for countless days while waiting in line at pumping stations for fuel to arrive. The country seemed to be falling apart all around us, yet we were never directly affected by it.
Three paragraphs after departing the Harare Airport, we arrived at the Meikles hotel; some of the best accomodations where I've had the pleasure of staying. Everyone was very friendly and quick with a genuine smile. There were security guards located throughout the hotel; in the lobby, the gift shoppe, the restaurants and the bars. I had mixed feelings about the situation. It gave me a sense of security, but it also left an underlying feeling that danger was lurking nearby, or there wouldn't have been a need for the guards. After meeting Scott, the person with whom I was to share lodgings for the next 2 weeks, I settled into our hotel room. That caused a bit of a stir with the bellman that led me up to the room. He was upset that another man was sharing the room with me. When he opened the door to let me into the room, there was Scott, a young man in his 20s, sleeping on one of the two beds. He was shocked. "There is someone in here!" Yes, I explained to him. I knew that I had to share the room with someone else. "But it is a MAN!" Again I reassured him that this was okay. It seems that this sort of situation, two strange men sharing a hotel room, is frowned upon in Zimbabwe. Once that was all sorted out, things were okay. Sort of. It would eventually come back to haunt us at the end of the trip, but in a very amusing way.
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