Nyanga: A paradise still

 Christmas breaks are spent munching roast duck Peking-style, and New Year is celebrated at Disneyland on Lantau Island or sightseeing from a double-decker bus in busy Kowloon.
Last year I also travelled east, but only as far as Nyanga, in the Eastern Highlands. We set off early on New Year’s Eve, after spending Christmas in Harare with family and friends.
Given that many Zimbos in the diaspora make their way home every December, it would seem futile to travel in the opposite direction at this time of the year. Moreover, a corn-stuffed roadrunner from Chishawasha for Christmas dinner is preferable to ten-variety fried noodles, cooked by an unfamiliar chef and eaten in the company of strangers.
Travelling east to Nyanga for New Year has become a family tradition and over the years, the Mutare Road has become almost as familiar to me as the back of my hand. Slow-moving and exhaust-belching vehicles rule the road up to Marondera, but after leaving this small town with its wayside sellers of syrup and its off duty traffic lights, the road opens up and the journey becomes enjoyable. Speed fiends are held in check by a series of roadblocks, speed traps and the inevitable tollgate.
Eagle’s Nest was once the place to stop for scones and tea and to refuel the car. But the birds have since flown and the nest is in a state of disrepair, so we now check fuel and water in Rusape while snacking on packets of crisps and cans of Sprite.
The Rusape service station last year was thronged by a variety of motorists, all intent on reaching their destinations in good time to celebrate the year’s end.
A dignified couple in the latest V8 Titan pickup with silver mag wheels sailed past an ageing and muddy 4×4 carrying a posse of revellers wearing short trousers, and a young man wearing long shorts and bright white sports shoes, strode purposefully through the forecourt into Rusape town.
Turning left off Rusape’s main road and driving towards Nyanga, the route twisted and climbed past granite outcrops and stunted msasa trees, bypassing valleys and distant blue mountains and copses of wattle and pine.
We stopped at Froggy Farm food stall and bought some gooseberry jam and a plastic bag of rather sour plums: We continued on to the Claremont roadside stall, to buy a box of delicious export quality plums. There were no trout to be had here, either fresh or smoked. This was also the case at Troutbeck, where the trout pools were empty.
Our destination was Blue Swallow Timeshares, where we would spend four days and nights, breathing in the champagne air of the Eastern Highlands. We would also be cooking all our own meals and had hoped to buy some local produce.
Unfortunately, the Spar store behind Troutbeck Hotel was closed and barred and the adjoining service station and off licence looked abandoned. Santa’s Workshop, once a thriving gift shop, was also deserted. So if you’re camping or self-catering in a cottage or timeshare, be sure to take ample provisions with you.
Back in the day, Zimbabwe’s youth would flock to the high-rise tent at Troutbeck for the most popular New Year’s Eve party in the country. Attention later focused on Kariba and last year serious revellers were said to be descending upon Victoria Falls to bid farewell to the old year and welcome in the new.
In 2010, instead of their usual New Year’s Eve dinner/dance, Troutbeck Hotel was hosting a disco for pre-teens. Unless we were content with cooking boerewors on the braai or opening a bottle of champagne at World’s View, we needed to book ourselves in somewhere for a celebratory dinner. Pine Tree Inn was off limits, having been taken over by a captain of industry celebrating his 50th birthday with 50 of his best friends. The Inn on Rupurara was also fully booked, and things looked bleak.
At the eleventh hour, Rupurara phoned to say they had received a cancellation, and the six of us sped down the mountain to enjoy a delicious meal and silver service at its best. Nothing was too much trouble for the welcoming staff and the four-course meal, served with sparkling wine and velvety chardonnay, was superb.
At midnight, we linked arms and sang Auld Lang Syne, a Scots poem often sung to celebrate the start of the New Year at the stroke of midnight.
New Year’s Day was another day, a day for horse riding, climbing World’s View, and for venturing to the spectacular Mutarazi Falls.
Unlike Kowloon, Nyanga may not be a shopper’s paradise, but it’s a lot closer to home and for sheer beauty, surpasses any destination in the East.