Day 316 / 81

Date: 22 February 2023
Sleeping location: Clevers Resort, Lake Mutirikwi, Zimbabwe
Distance (km today/total/total Part 2): 0 / 19390 / 4553
Estimated climb (m today/total/total Part 2): 0 / 169600 / 51600
Monkeys: cheeky

Day in three words: Rain stops play

I was woken up by heavy but intermittent rain and unzipped my tent to see very low cloud and dim light in every direction. Making coffee from the tent* proved difficult as the water wouldn't boil because the pan was being constantly rained into. I lounged around and had breakfast with O&P in the little kitchen area, but the weather showed no sign of changing and seemed really set in. They had camped under the shelter of the kitchen area but somehow something wet had got into their tent; after deducting all possible alternative explanations and conducting a series of smell tests Oliver concluded that a monkey had pissed on them in the morning. Disgusting yet hilarious.

I had planned to head to Great Zimbabwe this morning then continue on to Masvingo to spend a rest day there the following day, but the weather was a big disincentive and a further disincentive was that accommodation in Masvingo seemed pretty bad. Maybe a rest day was better here. I opted to decide at 11 and, in the fancy hotel area, ordered a tasty but slightly odd fried breakfast which came with a chicken breast and a garnish of half a hollowed out onion filled with shredded carrot. Was I supposed to eat it? I didn't. 

The rain was still going at 11 and I was feeling very lazy by this point, so I decided my rest day was here. O&P were leaving to wild camp in the evening, so I moved all my stuff inside the sheltered kitchen area to ensure a drier night and easier pack up in the morning (notwithstanding the potential for monkey wee). In doing so I foolishly left a bag of nuts and raisins lying on the countertop, which subsequently disappeared. It didn’t take Poirot to figure out who the four-pawed, blue-balled, tent-pissing culprit was.

I then lounged around the lounge on the fancy furniture reading emails, blogging and chatting with Oliver and Pauline. They are good fun, smart but don’t take life too seriously, and provided a lot of good information about my upcoming route. As scruffy little hippies we were amusingly out of place here as it was the sort of room where the murderer would be revealed in an Agatha Christie novel**. They left mid afternoon and I took relaxation to its full potential with yet another bath, this time with a beer. For reasons I cannot fathom, 375ml bottles of beer are referred to as “pints” and 750ml bottles as “fresh”. 

Freddy Watch - he is predicted to be making big, big mischief somewhere between Masvingo and Louis Trichardt (ie on my route) in around three days, but will at this point have been demoted to Tropical Storm Freddy, so that’s something.

*As in, operated from inside the tent, not brewed with infusion of tent 

** “It was - ” dramatic pause “ - THE MONKEY!”