December 26

After a slow morning, pottering about and just enjoying 'being', we attempt another walk. We go down a path that begins well, but becomes increasingly like an obstacle course with trees down all over the place.  We climb over tree trunks and under tree trunks, sometimes even sliding along the ground.  The path finally comes to an end at a mud hut and so we turn around and go all the way back, this time uphill.

No visit to the Bvumba is complete without a trip to Tony's coffee shop.  In a place where you cannot even buy a pint of milk, Tony's may seem a little unexpected, but he and his cakes are famous throughout Zimbabwe.  Tony's cakes are the best I have ever come across.  My dad always got annoyed with us if we described something as 'divine' as he said it was a gross exaggeration, but really Tony's cakes are divine.  There is no scrimping on cream, walnuts, creme fraiche, pure chocolate or any other of the expensive ingredients that go into his cakes.  His coffee shop is very popular with expats and diplomats who come all the way from Harare to have tea and cake and then drive home again. He uses the most beautiful china and proper teacups and saucers and silver teapots, jugs and sugar bowls so he is obviously a favourite with me.

As we are on a rather tight budget, we order two pieces of cake and divide them between us.  A group of Chinese visitors order the chocolate cake and then leave more than half.  It seems like such a waste of food.  According to Tony, they run a hotel on the outskirts of Mutare and come for tea almost every weekend.

I receive a message from the lady who is booked to stay with us on Saturday, asking what time she and her husband can check in tomorrow.  I feel a surge of panic.  Surely she has got the dates wrong?  If she hasn't, I will have to try phoning Elizabeth and ask her if she can open the cottage for them. Getting through to Elizabeth is the first hurdle and no doubt there will be much tongue clicking when I ask her to let this couple in.  Luckily, it turns out that the guest has got the date wrong.

We are all very sad that we are already going home tomorrow.  We go for a last walk up the road and try to soak up as much of the forest atmosphere as possible.  I like to think that the memories we will have will serve as, to misquote Wordsworth, 'beauty recollected in tranquility'.