Dining with billionaire hunters

THIS is the second part of my virtual expedition with readers of this column where I give you the limitless options for holidays as we cruise into festive mood. For those not keen to travel long distances, take a glimpse of my experiences at Kombahari, the big restaurant at the magnificent Rainbow Towers, and my trip to Harare Safari Lodge.

Dynamite in the cheek at Kombahari
Kombahari restaurant, that flagship dining facility at the five star Rainbow Towers Hotel, resembles an African king’s palace.  Patrons relax on impressive marble furniture while they enjoy classic mixtures of modern and traditional cuisines, and, rare for this city, relaxation in a secluded glass coated enclave. The word komba means to surround in Shona, while hari means clay pot.

Clay pots, the hardened mud bowls that grannies use in the villages to showcase their traditional hospitality through the preparation of extraordinary stews, are associated with delicious African dishes. Vegetables mixed with peanut butter, or muriwo une dovi, mazondo, tripe (maguru) and pig or cattle heads are among the special meals prepared in the hari, which can cook at cracking temperatures. The hari can continue to boil sumptuous meals in its belly several minutes after fires are doused.

Families “surround” the hari to enjoy special meals after a hard day’s work in the village, often over traditional folktales. This tradition of surrounding the hari is what is being replicated at Kombahari. After my special lunch in the relaxed outfit where you are as welcome for lunch as you are for a quick pint in a pub, I emerged unsurprised why modern copycats christened this reservoir of high quality food and lifestyle Kombahari.

I sneaked out of the newsroom with Paul Nyakazeya, a colleague on the Financial Gazette’s business desk, for what we thought would be an ordinary outing. It turned out to be more magnificent than we had imagined. Fridays are traditional food days at the towers. The who is who in the political and business circles troop in to wine and dine. My usually subdued appetite was reignited.

A hybrid aura of the traditionally bred chicken and maguru confronted us. The cheerful waiter, Wilson, who was as impressive in his imitation of the Nigerian English accent as he was in outlining the vast range of meals by heart, described the chickens as “road runners”. More exquisite meals steadily remitted steam from the dishes, which were firmly escorted by cakes, ice cream, hot pudding and clusters of food-filled hari.

Holed in a secluded corner of the breathtaking towers, Kombahari, which has been given an impressive facelift in a US$7 million project involving the full facility, is now an embodiment of all things top notch. Its once neglected floors now resemble fine golden sands, the kind you want to dig your toes into. I have never seen Kombahari so fresh and elegant.

I plunged straight into a dosage of mushroom soup, and then turned the heat to the main course, a buffet of rice, sadza, the delicious road-runner, potatoes, grilled fish and beef, mazondo and foods too complicated only a hotelier would do justice to explain. For me, lunch without sadza is no lunch. It was no ordinary sadza, but a complete staple combining a fair texture and attractive colour.

I scooped spoonfuls, leaving space for beef just ahead, and then more loads of the African roadrunner drumsticks and collar bones. With my plate full, I came face to face with my favourite dish: grilled birds, which I later thought to be slippery wild quails or pigeons, whose appearance sent the loudest ‘eat me’ noise.

Grilled bream on the shore
We left the hustle and bustle of the metropolitan life the moment we turned left after Pamuzinda leisure spot near Kuwadzana Extension in Harare. We had started on a narrow tarred path westwards, our Nissan Hardboard rapidly zooming into quiet environs as it descended down mostly derelict, vast and virgin farmlands off the Harare-Bulawayo road. We were cruising towards the vast shores of Lake Chivero some eight kilometres away.

The farms once bustled with life before their former owners were violently marshalled away by State-backed peasant farmers and war veterans at the turn of the century. They are now clearly rundown. But in their current state, they have formed the critical cushion that shields spending domestic tourists from the noise coming from passing vehicles on one of the country’s the busiest highways.

The terrain shifted from grassy farmland pastures into thickets of yellow grass that creeps towards the lake, where they defuse into lash green tree canopies that have perennially defied even the driest seasons. I decided to hibernate at Harare Safari Lodge to understand the dynamics of the largely underutilised but breathtaking waters, as far as domestic tourism is concerned. It was a short but eventful trip full of surprises.

As we zoomed closer, bright spots of still waters appeared in dramatic fashion through shaking trees that line up the periphery. We burst into the open waters as we drove into the yards of the property that I had largely underestimated, my eight year-old protégé, Innocent Makoshori, on my side. He immediately fell in love with the Safari-style thatched lodges, a respite from traditional city homes.

The lash green yards crept onto the shores of the lake, where dozens of bird species and zebras sun busked. Here, guests have the chance to sail through an afternoon or evening cruise to the other side of the lake where they watch more wildlife, including the rhino.

It is so amazing we would not imagine that right here close to the capital city, domestic tourists can watch a wide range of wildlife just like tourists enjoy in the largest tourism destination like Gonarezhou and Hwange. “We are the best of all properties lined along the lake in terms of standards,” said Food and Beverages supervisor, Milcah Chikowo.

A tour of the property became our appetiser to the delicious lakeside lunch we would later enjoy. I chose a combination of the fried bream, the freshest ever I have eaten, probably straight from the waters. Innocent had chicken, fish and a jumbo size pack of fresh chips, served with salads and a string of colourful spices.

Drinks with billionaire hunters
The mighty Mzingwane River turns right then rolls over leftwards, the abrasive wrath of its vicious floods from the summer season still evident on the colossal channel. Clean clusters of basalt outcrops form the natural bed on which the giant water repository, a powerful landmark which is a sharp contrast to the thirsty wildlife-rich estates on both sides of its banks, rests.
At this point, 36 kilometres deeper into tranquil hunting forests off the Bulawayo-Beitbridge road near West Nicholson, enterprising nationals have massively invested into tourism facilities which host the rich as they extravagantly spend on game trophies while drinking expensive wine far from the hustle and bustle of modern capitals.

Matabeleland South was my next destination after taking a rest from long haul expeditions recently. This is no ordinary land. These were the fertile hunting grounds for one of southern Africa’s most powerful kings of the 18th century. The nucleus of the mighty King Lobengula’s kingdom was not very far from this land during his reign a few decades after following the period of Mfecane, the great movement of tribes from South Africa fleeing Tshaka in the 1830s. It could be the reason why the biggest elephant trophy on this land today was shot in the province. My destination was the impressive 153 000-hectare Doddieburn Ranch.

On the bright and sunny day, temperatures remained in the mild categories, giving us a feel into why multitudes of high-spending hunters and royalties, including the Queen of England, have spent time on the heavily fortified but magnificent wildlife sanctuary. It proudly rests on the massive banks of Mzingwane River stretching several kilometres.

The plan was to drive through to the lodges, consume a few chicken breasts and disappear into the expansive Mopani dominated savanna woodlands for a rare insight into the extraordinary lifestyles of Doddieburn’s animals. I rekindled my penchant for deadly encounters with defiant predators that lurk sporadic doom shaped rocks lining the periphery of the park as our 4×4 vehicle trudged through bumpy gravel detours, the arteries that feed into the park.

Animal footprints trailed the dusty tracks, giving the privately run Doddieburn Ranch the image of a Stone Age reserve. We were a little bit unfortunate. We encountered no game as our all terrain machine effortlessly zoomed towards expensively thatched lodges in the horizons. But we disturbed flocks of birds as they took a deserved afternoon bath on a day when winds were still.

We plunged straight into a rushed tour of the renovated lodges. On the floor of Mzingwane River, whose waters magnificently rise four metres up to a special point where hunters enjoy game meat after every successful hunt, we took photos.

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