21st of August, 2018.
Borders surprised me almost every time. Most of the times in a bad way and just one time in a great way: the boarder Uganda / Kenya. They are literally just beside each other.
This time it gets very bad. The guards from Botswana border strongly advise me to not walk until the Zimbabwe border. It is a small walking distance, if you think about going to the shops, but huge if you think about countries borders, the so called “nobody’s land”. How the hell those constructions Are approved? It is ridiculous! And “apparently”, it is too dangerous doing by walking because the chances of being mugged and raped are big. What? Are you telling me that as a police officer and there is nobody doing something to change that? Since when is like this? Always? Why there is no security patrolling the place? During the whole time the border is open, it should be guards working on the perimeter. Can you believe in that?
My better chance it would be to take a Kombi (small buses) but I would have to pay 10 Pulas. What? Are you fucking kidding me? From Serowe to Palapye, almost 40 Kilometres, it costs 12 Pulas and you are telling me that to cross one kilometre I will have to pay 10 Pulas? Are you shitting me? No fucking way. One of the guards, a nice man, is seriously surprise and concerned about my reaction. He then decided to talk with the next people on the line, a couple, if they could give me a lift just to the border. At the beginning they are reluctant, I do not know why, but then they decide to help.
At the border, a small delay just because I have not an address where I would stay. In the end, the lady just make me write a backpackers address and that is it. Now the Visa is another story. You know how I get nervous on the borders? Not that I show them that, but I do not make too many questions, and I am always concerned about ask for long days term. So I do not ask the lady how many days are the second type of tourist Visa: the multiple entrances ones the one which would cost me 35 U.S. Dollars. Oh, yeah, for the simple entrance plus thirty days one, it is just 30 U.S. Dollars. I guess I am so happy about having money for some food, that is why I also did not have any further questions.
The lady from the couple is actually a NGO employee. They are going to Mbalabala, a small town after Bulawayo. Basically they are going in the same way I am going, so they decide to give me a lift until there. Now I regret a little bit for not staying one more day in Bullawayo and visiting the town. It is a quite important one in Zimbabwe.
In the road where I should continue my way alone, in direction to Masvingo, I decide to get a lift just for few kilometres further, in a safe distance of the shops and people who are around, so I could make my camp for the night.
Evans stop his truck. He is actually going to a nearby hospital, The Filabusi District Hospital, to drop some medicines, and will spend the night there. He claimed I could come with him, make my camp at the hospital, and next morning he would drop me at the right road again (Filabusi it is a few kilometres out of the main road to Masvingo). I accept.
In the hospital, camping made it, I wash up, cook and eat my dinner. Before going to sleep, another episode of Lie to me. At that time, they are my dreamy reward at the end of a hard day.
Porridge in the morning and everything settle. Evans deliver the medicines and we are taking the road again. Unfortunately, he decide to give a lift to another woman, and I notice he is flirting with her. What is awful because he is married. At least, he did not do that with me. But I say unfortunately because since I had to move to the back seat, when I left the truck, I forgot my so useful hoodie, Ahmed’s gift, which warmed so many times and saved my ass of freezing. So sad.