A
write up by Colin Gardiner from the “Zimbabwean Travel”
magazine
February
2004
The view of the citadel of rocks from my lodge was beautiful
and awesome but it was the rope walkway extending to a jutting
platform of rock high above a ravine that made it very special
at Camp Amalinda, a celebration within the granite fortress
of the Matopos Hills in the Matobo District.
There was something of the Indiana Jones in the adventure
of the swaying, but I must say entirely safe, bridge that
brings one to high tea on a natural projection within a majestic
landscape.
For to enter the Matopos is to discover another world, with
chiefs and warriors and pioneers all involved in its history,
and a testimony to the greatness of San rock art.
The area is
the Arizona of Africa, a cathedral of rock two billion years
old. Such is the spiritual heart and power, one could venture
that it could easily be the major tourist attraction in the
country were it not overshadowed by the world’s greatest
waterfall.
Camp Amalinda is just a half-hour drive from Bulawayo, its
nine lodges, including two for families, built with great
imagination. They are set right in the middle of a giant playground
of kopjes with rocks penetrating to the sky and flat-topped
monsters of granite looking like stranded whales in the countryside.
To reach Camp Amalinda you have to have great faith, for as
you approach one of these great whale rocks, you feel you
are on the edge of the world and just about to leap off it.
But travel a little further and you see a thatched outpost
(actually a bar guarding a lovely swimming pool) that is the
real beginning of your stay in one of the most artistic creations
Zimbabwe has to offer.
There is actually one thing better than visiting the rocks
and that is to live among them. Camp Amalinda offers such
an experience. Every room is adorned by rocks and you can
wake up in the morning next to hugged granite streaked with
iron orange or a large boulder in the center of the room.
“The road to paradise is not very easy, anyway”,
say the owners Philip and Sharon Stead, commenting on the
retreat, once a bushman’s shelter, that was originally
built by David and Linda Bennett, who have gone off to pastures
new in the tourism industry in Zambia. Sharon has revamped
and refurbished every single room to high luxurious standards
but it is truly the rocks that embrace the guests, overhanging,
underfoot and classically encroaching on every aspect of Camp
Amalinda.
Guests can expect a highly-privileged stay, laced with home-cooked
food – I can still recall the sizzling steak that welcomed
my first-night stay – game tours in the National Park,
where a notice declares that poachers will be shot, and into
the caves of the wonderful art of the San.
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This was the gateway into
the country for some of the great hunters of the past like
Frederick Selous, who spoke of the hills in moonlight offering
a spectre of old ruined castles, and of missionaries like
Robert Moffatt, whose daughter married the ever-questing
David Livingstone.
The history of this wilderness of granite continually inspires.
Essentially a game conservation area, it is a focal point
for birding expeditions, the botanist and ecologist, and
a natural haven for leopard with the black eagle soaring
above the terrain.
And of course the rhinos.
On a fine afternoon, in the company of Camp Amalinda’s
game ranger, Never Khanye, whose great grandfather came
to Bulawayo on the game trek from Zululand with Mzilikazi,
we set off in quest of the animal who dominated the Matopos
Hills.
Never is one of those fearless guides with the knowledge
to go with it and, although Parks and Wildlife Management
Authority officials had warned that there did not seem to
be any rhinos in sight, we soon came across three of these
mighty creatures grazing a few yards from the road.
I might have been content to stay in the vehicle but Never
would brook no such caution. He confidently led the way
into the bush and with another couple, involved in an aid
mission in Zimbabwe, we approached the rhinos within a few
metres, always with a wary eye on the two-tonne giants.
“They have very poor eyesight”, said Never,
“and if they charge hide behind the nearest bush or
tree.” That was some comfort – I would rather
be behind the rocks at Amalinda.
We escaped this time but, undaunted, Never found us another
three rhinos, one with a baby which of course accounted
for some excellent photography. These rhinos were decidedly
more nervous at our presence and the leader turned out to
be more threatening. But we were in good hands – Never
has spent ten years with the Parks and Wildlife Management
Authority – and we survived once again. Afterwards
Never regaled us of the time when he was nearly killed by
a rhino near Chirundu border post, escaping several charges
from a maddened beast.
Well, that sobered us up and we spent the rest of the afternoon
looking at the fantastic array of rocks – including
the famous Mother and Child – that is the scenic kingdom
of the Matopos where the Victorian magnate Cecil Rhodes
and other historic figures are buried in a dome of rock
with a “view of the world”.
One of my favourite historians, Oliver Ransford, once described
the incredible landscape as possessing the mystery and romance
of old Africa with sacred sites and secret places rich in
lore and legend.
And that is the heritage of Camp Amalinda.
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