Dr Peter Bolton’s no stranger here. He taught on a British Council exchange scheme a quarter of a century ago and has returned frequently since. I can only imagine what someone who stayed at Specks in the good-old, bad-old days prior to Zanu PF’s destruction on this lovely country would feel.
I also advised him to take his complaints to Zimbabwe Tourism Authority… but it… like dozens of restaurants, allegedly represents the interests of, were (for reasons best known to themselves) still closed long after Christmas/New Year.
However, I did have one wonderful lunch out this week at 360° at Borrowdale Village: fully reviewed in last Friday’s Zimbabwe Independent. I’ll try to shoehorn in a picture or two of this stunning newcomer to whet your appetites.
Holiday from hell…in Kadoma!
By Dr Peter Bolton
How the mighty have fallen!
Speck’s Hotel opened in Kadoma in 1907, the same year as Jameson High School was founded in the once prosperous gold mining town then called Gatooma.
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In the heart of landlocked Zimbabwe, the hotel once famously (and fatuously) advertised “all rooms face the sea.”
When I taught at Jameson, 25 years ago, Speck’s was a favourite watering hole where good company and good food was always found.
But on a very recent trip down memory lane, I should have stayed at the Kadoma Ranch Motel. Speck’s is a total shambles.
I thought I would treat myself to a night in Speck’s Presidential Suite.
I was more than surprised when, at reception, I was handed keys, a roll of toilet paper and half a bar of soap.
When I got to the suite there was no water — that made both items redundant.
The receptionist offered me three buckets of water which I gladly accepted.
In the bathroom, there were no towels, no shampoo or shower gel, not even a toilet seat.
Then it got worse. The courtesy lights above the bed had broken fittings with no globes. The TV socket had bare wires going directly into live and neutral of mains socket which, back home in London, would have sent the Health and Safety people into a purple rage.
The telephone was dead and the electric kettle had no connecting cable. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling. I dreaded to think what little horrors would crawl out of there after lights out.
I arrived on a Sunday afternoon; Gospel preachers and singers were in full swing, adjacent to the suite. The receptionist assured me they would be over by 5PM. But they went on far, far longer.
I forced myself into the cocktail bar. I don’t demand much, but they only had four beers (bottles of…not brands!), no cider, which my companion requested, no Coca Colas, only Fantas, and it was a struggle to get a glass.
For reasons only known to the hotel management and perhaps Tibetan monks, I could only get to my suite by going outside the back of the hotel, then finding an entrance to take me back inside.
There was apparently no food on offer. I walked past the kitchen which obviously had not been used for years; it resembled a cross between Frankenstein’s laboratory and the galley of The Black Pearl from The Pirates of The Caribbean.
And the price for this wonderful experience? US$50.
God knows what the standard rooms were like — the Tower of London?
Although bed linen was clean, the hotel doesn’t look like it has seen any maintenance for a long while.
During the night, there was the din of frequent comings and goings and opening and closing of bedroom doors. I didn’t look at the hotel register, but it certainly didn’t seem there were that many guests to justify the “musical beds”.
Sadly, The Grand Hotel in Kadoma is even more run down than Speck’s. One of The Grand’s claims to fame, I recall from my days in Kadoma, is that it had Zimbabwe’s first fully sprung dance floor.
I teach biology at a London university and have no expertise on whether sprung floors survive the ravages of time that have taken their toll on both The Grand and dear old Speck’s, which I’ll now call my Heartbreak Hotel.
