safarigeek

A long-weekend in the 1950s.

I must first apologise for the recent lack of “Letters from Zimbabwe”.  The last few months have taken me elsewhere in southern Africa.  However, I thought I’d share last weekend’s local adventure with you…more for those interested in life in Zim and not so relevant for the safari boffs.

I think we can probably all agree that the 1950s was not a decade which stood out as a shining beacon of architectural and design prowess…not the sort of stuff one would want to preserve for posterity.  In fact, it’s hard to think of another decade which produced a more generally awful look.  Having said that, there do seem to be the faithful folk to whom this era (bafflingly) appeals.

At the centre of a steep, green whirlpool of tea fields in a deep cleft of Zimbabwe’s Eastern Highlands, lies the Aberfoyle Country Club.  One of those classic colonial relics, the club is a slightly surreal little blot in this maze of winding roads, dense indigenous forest and tea bushes.  Throughout Zim’s recent tricky period, the Country Club has staggered on, offering a weekend getaway to the dwindling outdoor enthusiasts, keen golfers and people who would simply like to relocate their beer-drinking to somewhere more picturesque.  Lush forests bursting with biodiversity harbour waterfalls, exotic birdlife and intense tranquillity.

One of the owners is an avid collector of anything 1950s and, immensely proud of this museum piece, regularly procures and ships “collectables” to be displayed in the club.  Dark panelled rooms with retro-glass and mismatched furniture are highlighted here and there by a black and white portrait of a well-coiffed and be-pearled dame. The collection includes, rather oddly, three pairs of narrow ladies shoes from that era which are exhibited in the washroom.  There remains an ornately carved billiards table alongside a line of fairly utilitarian rooms that overlook a small but beautifully clipped fairway.  Blissfully isolated from WiFi and mobile phones, it is a genuine time-capsule.

Once a bustling social hub for the white community of the Honde Valley, the club is now gathering itself to face a renewed demand from domestic tourists of all cultures.  Rather rough around the edges, the Club feels as though it is pondering how best to tackle this great leap forward into the fast-paced new millennium which does not sit entirely comfortably with its heritage.  It seems to me that this same predicament is shared by many people and places in Zim.