Beitbridge: Zimbabwe's festering border post

This is a tourist's perspective on their recent visit to Zimbabwe. Their family travelled by car and entered the country through the Beitbridge Border - between South Africa and Zimbabwe.

With the new Unity Government in place, one would think that moves would point towards re-establishing Zimbabwe's once wonderful tourism industry. Since the Land Reform programme in 2000, tourism in Zimbabwe has steadily declined reaching an all time low in December 2008. After rising during the 1990s, with 1.4 million tourists in 1999, industry figures described a 75% fall in visitors to Zimbabwe in by December 2008.

Upon careful consultation with friends from Zimbabwe however, we decided to brave a visit by road. Assurance that fuel is now available at some garages were indeed true. The hotels and National Parks Camps were welcoming if stretched and tatty , the costs were high compared to those in South Africa and food was a lot more expensive.

We would love to travel to Zimbabwe again one day with our family but we made a vow that we would never ever attempt to cross into Zimbabwe at the Beitbridge Border post !As a first entry point to your country, the Border Post was a disgusting
mess, mounds of trash piled everywhere, rocks, stones, great piles of rubble (from Operation Murambatvina?), no signs, no direction, just an unenthusiastic group of uncivil servants waiting for their shift to change.

One would imagine that a Thursday afternoon at Beitbridge Border Post, nowhere near a public holiday, nowhere near the end of the month, that the traffic would not be too bad.

The toll payment was not too unpleasant, the road tax (for the pleasure of driving through the potholes) was not too undisciplined although there was no change anywhere so you just had to forfeit anything owing to you , the passports were stamped with alacrity, but the customs system is a debacle, an absolute debacle.

There were four lines of vehicles, piled high with commercial goods, intent upon passing through the single lane green route, three queues converging on single lane red route. There was no place to move forwards, backwards or to park .

It was complete and utter chaos, pity us poor tourists coming to spend an honest dollar or two in the country, as no sane tourist would ever, ever undertake this horrific experience more than once.

With the temperature at 35 degrees celsius, and a quagmire of vehicles hopelessly gridlocked, trying to literally force their way through customs, touts were yelling, vehicles were bumper to bumper to stop queue jumpers, the fuel emissions were horrendous as the hot tempered border crossers tried to cool down.

It was literally a festering, seething ugly mass of humanity and very frightening to a tourist who does not have a clue where to go and what to do next to get through from S.A. into Zimbabwe.

We sat for three hours i the baking sun in the car, our line of cars did not move an inch, there was no where to buy cold drinks. The only form of sustenance we saw was an enterprising young man who passed by the window carrying a cardboard tray of hard boiled eggs, and tantalisingly displayed on the same tray was an array of condiments like, salt, pepper, aromat and chili powder !!

When we finally forced our way, inch by inch, to the final customs point, we were harassed and berated, searched and abused. Our Gauteng vehicle registration plate seemed to inspire nothing but wrath in everybody, and our woes were still not at an end.

At every road block around the country we were pulled over by police, some in uniform, some in civilian clothes, and again subjected to unnecessary and unnerving questioning. Our little girls were becoming more and more traumatized as the journey progressed.

A visit to Zim again ? Not bloody likely !!