Revelling in Zimbabwe’s beauty while retracing routes through the badlands and valley of the ancients

Beware of landmines, said the sign as we turned onto the A14, a lonely dirt road that leads from Nyamapanda border post, between Mozambique and Zimbabwe, to Mutare where we were headed.

We were homeward bound, road weary and verging on broke — and this sign was completely disconcerting. Clearly, this was not a road where you simply stopped and strolled off into the bushes for a pee.

Politics is an inevitable passenger on a road trip through Africa, but it’s been more than 40 years since the Zimbabwean war of Independence and we were still being asked to beware of landmines? And how exactly do you beware of a landmine? Do not stop to ask it directions? Ignore it in a bus queue?

Since Mozambique was declared free of landmines in 2015, I’d assumed Zimbabwe was the same. But not at all. The landmines here were planted by forces of the Rhodesian government under Ian Smith in the late 1970s to destabilise freedom fighters from the Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army as well as the Liberation Front of Mozambique, and are only now being removed and destroyed.

We passed a razor-wired enclosure of tents and ambulances that was the main camp of the Mines Advisory Group (MAG), a global humanitarian and advocacy organisation that finds, removes and destroys landmines, cluster munitions and unexploded bombs in conflict zones. Helping children get back their future, as the organisation puts it.

Since 1989, the MAG has helped more than 20 million people in 70 countries rebuild their lives and livelihoods after war — and this forgotten stretch of Zimbabwe is finally getting its turn.

What a sad few hours’ drive it was through this remote, empty and deeply rural part of Zimbabwe, where it felt as if everybody had left. We encountered almost no other traffic for hundreds of kilometres, except for the odd car, bicycle or motorbike. There was no cellphone signal and the villages were far apart with sparse and empty shops.

Though the road itself has been declared safe to drive, there were pegs and tape indicating specific pathways into the bush that were safe to walk. I read that more than 150,000 cows have been blown up by landmines since they were planted here. Goodness knows how many people have died.

Determined to make the best of it

We had crossed from Malawi into Mozambique the day before, had been predictably fleeced by traffic cops and had savoured our way towards Tete, stopping on the roadside for baobab views, leftovers and a slug of warm box wine.

We’d played singalong to loud 1970s disco music to keep up morale and belted our way into the city, crossing the old and new bridges over the Zambezi River.

The Tete Ferry Sun was a truly welcoming place to spend a night. A comfortable and spacious hotel on the banks of the Zambezi River, with a driveway lined by gorgeous travellers’ palm trees and sunset views over the bridge that is named after former Mozambican president Armando Guebuza, whose vast $2.2-billion fishing project scandal triggered an economic crisis in 2014.

On this day there was scant jollity in the car. We drove in silence and, by late afternoon, realised we’d never make it to Mutare as we’d originally hoped. So we stopped at Nyanga in the eastern highlands.

The weather got colder and colder as we climbed up into the hills, and by the time we checked into a villa at the legendary Troutbeck Resort, the temperatures had dropped to almost freezing and the rain was coming down. Sometimes heavy politics and deep angst call for a party. What a great night we had. We made a fire inside our villa, cooked delicious food and cranked up the music, ending up dancing around full of whisky-fuelled hope for a brighter tomorrow.

I had last visited Troutbeck Resort Inn in 2014 when it was rather rundown and only had electricity two days a week. Now it’s all solar power and manicured lawns surrounding a gorgeous lake, and the hotel and adjacent timeshare villas have been totally renovated and spruced up.

A baobab at one of the isolated villages on the road from Mozambique to Mutare in Zimbabwe. (Photo: Bridget Hilton-Barber)

A roadside stop to enjoy leftovers and views of the baobabs and whaleback rocks. (Photo: Bridget Hilton-Barber)

Entering a sacred space

A whaleback granite rock outcrop, also called an amadwala, on the beautiful road from Nyanga to Gonarezhou in the southeast of Zimbabwe. (Photo: Bridget Hilton-Barber)

Great Zimbabwe is a portal into the sacred space of the country. (Photo: Bridget Hilton-Barber)

Great Zimbabwe has cool, narrow pathways through its ancient conical structures. (Photo: Bridget Hilton-Barber)

Gonarezhou, which means 'place of the elephants", is Zimbabwe's second-largest national park and a legendary wildlife habitat straddling the border with Mozambique. (Photo: Bridget Hilton-Barber)