The Vumba in the rain!

Wining & Dining
There’s not a lot to do in The Vumba when — as so often—it’s hosing down with torrential rain or the rain’s stopped, but the famous Vumba mist means you can hardly see two metres in any direction!

There’s not a lot to do in The Vumba when — as so often—it’s hosing down with torrential rain or the rain’s stopped, but the famous Vumba mist means you can hardly see two metres in any direction! Report by Dusty Miller Heavens opened mercilessly mid-afternoon last Monday. Fortunately the drive from Ha-ha-ha-rare had been eventless, albeit painfully slow, due to ongoing road widening, repairs and maintenance, toll booths (the one at Ruwa’s still shut!) and wearying endless police road blocks.

We were in a Sasana Tours and Safaris mini-bus; I soon cottoned on that if I peered round our driver, Webster, when slowing at yet another needlessly frustrating checkpoint, the constable, sergeant, sub-inspector or even inspector running the show would wave us through on spotting a mzungu face and knowing no bribe was forthcoming.

We got to Leopard Rock almost seven hours after I’d joined the bus at Meikles Hotel, but an hour of that was lost waiting for and hunting down Press “colleagues” who probably know as much about punctuality as they do punctuation!

My head throbbed as nine travel writers and agents in a vehicle three times the size of a family car, literally, bellowed, screamed and yelled at each other as if they were communicating from one mountain top to another across a wide valley. At one stage, I lost it, demanding: “Why can’t you buggers just speak to each other like normal human beings?”

The Eastern District tourist areas of Vumba, Nyanga and Juliasdale were experiencing an at that stage seven-hour power outage/outrage due to a Zesa “fault” in Highlands, Harare, we were told, but most things worked, down to generators.

Late lunch was on the elegant terrace of the iconic French chateau-style hotel, built by the Seymour-Smith family and droves of Italian craftsmen prisoners-of-war to command stunning views over the escarpment into Mozambique. The vistas were improved when Peter Maktovich designed and oversaw the landscaping of an internationally renowned championship 18-hole, 6 154 metre, extremely challenging par 71 golf course. Sadly, the once magnificent major water hazard, which used to be a lake, is down to extended puddle size because of a leak.

I’m sure you could spend much more on the verandah menu than you would on the US$24 prix-fixe set dinner served—in our case—in The Conservatory Restaurant, designed for fine dining and on three attractive levels.

Lunch starter options were classical Caesar salad at US$5 or one with chicken for US$6; chilled prawn and tropical fruit salad with chili crème fraiche and garden herbs US$8; Greek salad US$5, or a ratatouille salad of char-grilled aubergine, courgettes and roasted tomatoes with basil pesto and rocket US$6 or shave home-cured bresaola [beef in red wine] with rocket, cracked black pepper and sherry vinegar at US$8.

(I had the prawns: still a bit too cold from the fridge and desperately needing a roll or Melba toast.)

Sandwiches come in either baguettes, white or brown bread with chips and a salad garnish and include BLT (bacon, lettuce and tomato) or Cheddar cheese, onion jam and rocket, both US$5; chicken mayo, US$6 or steak sandwich, US$8. Chicken or beef pies with chips and gravy were US$5 apiece as was quiche of the day and a cheese platter, with fresh sourdough bread, preserves, biscuits and a glass of Boplaas Cape tawny “port” was US$15.

(Naughty, naughty, menu compiler….you can’t say “port” now, unless the fortified wine’s from Portugal. One Australian vineyard got round this problem nicely by renaming its products “Starboard”!) Grills with chips and salads include beef and mushroom burgers or chicken pregos at US$8, Fern Valley huku piri-piri or lemon (US$12), Chinese pork ribs at US$15 and Odzi lamb chops with lemon and oregano, a dollar dearer.

US$16 is also the cost of a 220g sirloin steak; 300g of rump is US$17 and a 400g rib-eye, a la béarnaise US$18.

No trout from Nyanga, 100km away is on the menu, but Kariba pan-roast bream with veg, salad and chips is US$15; beer-battered hake and chips or grilled Mozambican prawns with fresh garden salad and chunky potato chips are US$16.

Pizzas are US$7-US$9. I ordered spaghetti bolognaise, but was served tagliatteli carbonara! Pasta dishes are US$10 and were of an acceptable, if not jaw-dropping, quality. The portion was too large for me.

Cakes and puddings are US$3,50 to US$6 and, from the top end I had a pleasant apple crumble and crème chantilly.

All afternoon activities were cancelled after skies turned gunmetal-grey, then black, minutes after we inspected a neighbouring gothic building The Castle, which used to be run by two men who were probably very kind to their mothers. Lonrho, which now owns Leopard Rock, bought the brooding building—also constructed by Eytie PoWs—from the surviving partner, but it’s currently mothballed due to financial constraints.

I happened to be in the golf club house when an end-of-the-world-like torrent hit, and managed to get mixed up with a hectic, hard boozing golf party led by Mark Wollmann, owner of Zimbabwe’s best restaurant, Victoria 22. The boys were determinedly on a mission; mixed feelings when driver, Webster, found me with the bus outside, engine running, and a wide umbrella to get me back to the hotel safe, sound and dry. Well outside, anyway!

I must report all my travelling companions raved about all the food, but none had been to the area before; whereas I’ve eaten at Leopard Rock when some of the all-time greats were members-in-charge of the kitchens Nicest dinner item was home-made mushroom soup. There was nothing really wrong with lightly-fried Kariba bream fillets in garlic, lemon and herb butter served with crushed potatoes…but it didn’t set the world on fire. I quite enjoyed the fresh fruit salad with ice-cream.

But as the conversation of what I’d mentally dubbed The Shamva, Shangani and Shabanie Shouting and Screaming Society was exclusively in various Shona vernaculars and four of its members were under 23, (including one in 40cm long “winkle-pickers”, who wanted to go hiking the next day!) I was glad to half-watch Sky News, dip into a Grisham novel…and sleep. Meanwhile, fellow members of the Fourth Estate trooped down to the casino…to learn how to gamble. Mugs!

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