My Horse, my Husband and I - page 2
Our next destination was Mozambique. The war there between the rebels and the government was fierce. Frelimo, the terrorist group, controlled the area we were to ride through To make matters worse, at the border post the border guards confiscated Gordon's gun with the promise of returning it at the entrance to the next country. But Malawi was a long way to go. Now we were really very vulnerable, especially because the rebels had a notorious way of controlling the "block" we had to ride through. Their method was to kill everything in sight, all birds, reptiles, game, and people. Their motto was "No food - no people"!
The map on the left shows the approximate route travelled by
Ria and Gordon on their historic trip from Lesotho to Kenya in 1970.
[Click on image to enlarge it] |
Most if not all of Mozambique consists of dense bush, low shrub and very
high elephant grass. To
get off the road you have to hack your way through the bush.
It was very eerie riding through there! This long, quiet dirt road, surrounded by thick bush and no natural noise - very scary!! Probably twice a day a big truck would pass us, carrying building
material to the Cabora-Bassa dam site. These chappies often stopped to chat and
often gave us a cool drink and some fruit. They
were probably so happy to see a fellow South African.
These trucks got blown up by the rebels on a regular basis and many of the drivers lost
their lives. We tried to move through there as quickly as possible and
eventually we got to Tete. The
story goes that in the olden days the Portuguese government never sent real bad convicts to
jail in this colony of Mozambique. They sent them instead to Tete, as being in Tete was much worse than being in
jail! I can believe that, as it is said that the humidity there is higher than
anywhere in Africa.
When
we arrived the Zambezi river was in flood. We saw herds of elephants come
floating down the river. What a sight to behold! There was only a ferry across
the river and of course we had to wait for the river to get back to normal. The
heat and humidity was unbelievable. Everything closes between 12 and 3 o'clock,
even the police station. The people
at the ferry were very understanding and when the big day arrived they loaded 2
big trucks on either side of the horses and smaller vehicles at both ends and
the ponies in the middle. What a nerve racking experience as nobody knew what
the ponies were going to do with this rolling, strange moving thing they were
on. Fortunately everything went well to the other side, but then they refused to
go down the gangplanks. One of the
ponies cut his leg very badly and we had to go and fetch a vet back in Tete,
hours later the pony was fixed. Unfortunately we then were forced to stay in a
little town that was notorious for terrorist attacks. We had no choice as the
little pony’s leg was so very painful. What was worse, we had to stay in the
police station grounds where most of the attacks took place. That night the
terrorists
blew up a truck between the ferry and the town and one on the other side of the
town. Even the ponies could sense the tension in the air. But again we were so
very blessed and got to the Malawian boarder without any mishap.
Malawi,
or as it is known, the land of the smiling faces, was very pleasant:
One cannot believe that some imaginary line between two countries can
make such a big difference to people. One almost felt uncomfortable because
somebody was always smiling or laughing at you, lovely people, so very helpful
and so eager to learn about the ponies.
What
a surprise to find my parents waiting for us at Blantyre.
They drove all that way to come and see us.
At that stage one could not fly from South Africa to anywhere in Africa,
and they faced all the dangers through Rhodesia and Mozambique. The ponies
needed their second horse sickness vaccines also and that meant a three week
rest for them. The South African vaccine lasts for a year and the Russians
insisted on a 6 monthly injection and two of the ponies got very sick and one
died, how very, very sad. The
other little one pulled through, thankfully. My parents took us to the lake for
a holiday, and it was bliss sleeping in a clean bed every night and the
wonderful luxury of bathing each evening. It is amazing how much one can do with
liter of water, cooking one's food, cleaning all the necessary bodily parts and
washing undergarments and brushing teeth!! So by that stage clean running water
from a tap was an enormous luxury. Even today my stomach turns when I think of
the water we had to drink at times, water scooped from waterholes with green
slime a few inches thick, and animal dung in it. Thank heaven for the water
sterilizing tablets the Rhodesians gave us. I think we would have died without
them.
Fruit
in Malawi is plentiful and very cheap, so we ate very well. The local people
also were so very eager to share their meals with us and so often arrived with a
few eggs, tomatoes, cassava, a local type vegetable, or any thing else.
Some of the villagers also allowed us to let the ponies graze their left
over maize fields. The locals were absolutely
marvellous But because the little children ran with us for miles on end - it was difficult
to find a spot where one could be private when nature called! .
One
day we camped just outside a little village, I woke up feeling a little dizzy.
When we finished packing up I was in trouble. The 2 miles into the next village took
ages. We rode to the mission hospital where I collapsed and fell off the pony. A
man who had just got out of his jeep, caught me. He happened to be a young
French doctor who was doing research on a new strain of malaria, called
galloping malaria. He was collecting samples miles out in the bush and had to
return to fetch something he forgot. I was one of the first Europeans to get
"galloping malaria". Apparently this type of malaria kills people in
two days. So it was very fortunate for me that this young man knew what to do
and helped me. I was very, very
sick for the next few days. In Malawi they had government rest houses in a few small
towns and we were fortunate enough to have stayed in one of those. I think if we
had had to stay in our small tent in the bush somewhere things would have been
different for me.
After
we crossed into
Tanzania we started seeing a lot of wild life. The animals did not seem to
recognise the human shape on the ponies, so we could ride very close to a lot of
them. But it was also lion country. We often heard them, sometimes uncomfortably
close! The elephants did not like the look of this new form of wild life and we
had to move very carefully and very quickly out of their site.
The main road goes through a game park and we had to follow that road. One night we went to a lodge in the park to see if we could camp on their premises and this German fellow was so very rude and chased us away. An African man who realized we were in trouble came to our rescue. He told us to ride to a shed a few miles away. There we would be more safe than just out in the bush. When we got there we discovered that at the river a few hundred yards away from the shed was the drinking place for all the large game. These animals were already arriving at the waterhole because the sun was setting. But this German fellow contacted the police. Whilst we were unpacking about 12 of them came with big guns and bayonets. They started shouting and screaming, threw everything we had out on the floor of the shed, opened the cameras, and ordered us in to their jeeps. We drove at an unbelievable speed in the dark cross country to their police station. They forced Gordon to stand up in this jeep. But he fell and broke a few ribs, but they could not care less. They locked us up till the next day when the big boss would arrive. We were so very worried about the ponies alone out there with the lions around!
"Our stay
at Arusha had been the most pleasant of the whole trip. |
The big boss arrived and interrogated us for hours. We were suppose to be Israeli spies! Can you believe that? Luckily, before we started our trip Chief Jonathan, the prime minister of Lesotho, gave us a letter of introduction. It was this slip of paper that saved our lives. Gordon made such a big scene and told them that there were going to be a big war between Tanzania and Lesotho if anything happened to "Chief Jonathan's horses" Fortunately they believed him. They took us back to the horses and ordered us out of the park in two hours: it took nearly two days. The kind African man who helped us in the first place had taken it upon himself to look after the ponies whilst we were in jail. We left as soon as possible but Gordon was in great pain and we moved slowly.
Then
it got worse, and
was a little scary, because we realized that lions were following us. Before
leaving,
the people in the know had assured us that lions will not attack a "smell"
they are not used to. Our only hope was to forget Gordon's pain, keep moving, not stay in one place for two
nights in a row, and hope the "experts" were right!!!
There was a great drought in Tanzania in 1971 and everything went hungry, including the ponies. We fed them on what ever grain we could buy from the locals. By then they had grown used to eating anything that even looked like food. Poor darlings !!
Then
we arrived at a little village late one afternoon. The
headman said we could stay. Only problem was that a pack of hyenas raided this
village every night. The headman said we
were welcome to share a little building that had a corrugated iron roof. This
was important because the hyenas
climbed on top of the huts and broke through grass roofs to get to anything
eatable inside. So Gordon and me and all of
our ponies were bundled into one the few huts with a metal roof. We were huddled
in there with all their chickens and
small animals and a big fire was started to keep the beasts away. It was so very scary when the
hyenas arrived. They make that horrible noise when they scream and laugh. When
the little ponies heard the hyenas, they became frantic with fear and so
were we. The beasts charged the door, climbed on top of the roof, scratched the
corrugated iron with their long nails, doing everything to try to get to the
ponies and eat them. It was very
terrible. Fortunately by morning the hyenas left and we could move on as far
as possible from that fearful place.
At
Iringa, Tanzania I suspected that I might be pregnant. I saw a doctor from
India. But he was not sure, so
we had to move on. A few days later I started bleeding. Strange how every time one of us was in trouble help just
seemed to arrive out of nowhere. This time in the form of a Italian man who was
working on a new road near by. He directed us to their road camp. When we
arrived I was bleeding a lot. The man who found us went ahead to tell the people
there of our coming and the men,
not the few woman, were waiting with blankets for us. They so very gently
covered my blood drenched body and escorted me to the loo. They removed my
clothes, stacked pillows all around the loo, and there I sat like a queen on a
throne! Strange how love does not speak in a language, as they could not speak
any English and I, not a word of Italian. The message was clear, they were going
to help me no matter what, and they did with more care than I could have
received at a hospital. They washed my clothes, put me in bed and really cared
for me so well. I will never ever forget these rough, hardened men with their
calloused hands, sun-baked faces, and kind, gentle hearts.
They saved my life, without any doubt. The ponies got a nice rest, good
food and their condition improved a lot at that camp. Gordon took the time to fix
everything that was broken, so it was a good rest for all.
We reached Mount Kilimanjaro on the far side of Tanzania and stayed with the honorary German consul and his family. What an experience to wake up every morning and see that incredible mountain, every day a different sight. I think every person on earth should see that once in their lifetime. It is the most beautiful experience one can imagine. These kind people had horses and our ponies stayed with them and had a feast after the drought stricken areas we came through.
At that stage we did not have permission to enter, or ride through Kenya yet. But trust Gordon. If one cannot go round something you go through it, no matter what it costs or what tactics you use. In the nearby city of Arusha, the government officials of Kenya said " no" in so many uncertain terms to the idea of letting us ride across their country. But after "negotiating" very long and hard (which of course also included Gordon's threat of the big war that would result between them and the tiny kingdom of Lesotho if they tried to stop us!) they agreed we may enter. But, and a big BUT, only if we can show proof from a vet that the ponies had no contact with any other horse or any other animal that carries foot-and-mouth disease during the entire trip from Lesotho! They thought this was obviously an impossible task and this requirement would keep us and the ponies out of Kenya forever.
Again, nothing stops Gordon. The next day when the director of veterinary services for Tanzania was away on business, which Gordon knew, he stormed into the deputy's office shouted and screamed and made such a big scene. The poor chap was so confused, he signed all the papers we needed and before anybody could change their minds we were on our way out of Tanzania. We made a flying visit to say goodbye to the kind German consul at his wonderful coffee plantation. Then we were riding on our way to the border.
Our stay
at Arusha had been the most pleasant of the whole trip.
Imagine
our surprise when we rode up to the edge of Nairobi, where we were stopped by
somebody from the Lesotho office and told to go to the show grounds. This kind
reception was
strange to us. On our arrival a whole bunch of people welcomed us, including the
wonderful Lesotho ambassador and his lovely wife, and of course all the
newspapers. This was a big set-up to keep us in the country, I suspect. This lovely man
and his wife took us into their home and made arrangements for the ponies.
All
dressed up in clothes borrowed from the ambassador and his lady, we attended a Lesotho
independence celebration party. There I fainted and was stone cold out for an
hour or so. Fortunately a lovely Indian lady doctor attended the party and
took care of me. I had to go and see her a few times and she did all sorts of
tests on me She said the malaria was not cured yet, the infection from the
miscarriage was still with me, and the after affects of the sunstroke etc. etc.
all made it necessary for me
to go home to South Africa. Gordon felt I could go on if we could get a wagon and let the ponies
pull it!!
Anyway,
a team of people working on a set of a play they were producing, decided to
build the wagon, which they did. This
time Gordon bit off more than he could chew as the poor, poor ponies just could
not learn to pull that damned wagon. So he decided to go on alone. In a way I
was sad as I really wanted to go with all the way to the Olympics in Germany
with him.
So,
we gave my ponies to a lovely man, and Gordon took three with him and left for
Addis Ababa, and I came home to my wonderful parents in South Africa.
The rest of the story is Gordon's story and he will probably tell you how
he rode through the Arabian deserts and all the other things that happened to
him.
We are happy to announce that Gordon Naysmith has completed his book about this extraordinary equestrian journey, A Will to Win. Ria meanwhile lives quietly, without horses, in South Africa.
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