My honeymoon in Zimbabwe

Sitting next to this stranger - wandering what to say next, or should I say anything at all? What was wrong with me? Why did I marry this man?

We are driving his old battered Minivan - about the only thing that I know that he is really proud off - when I heard spluttering gurgling sounds? I watched in amazement as my new husband looks at the fuel gauze. Did he not check the fuel? We are on our way from Tzaneen, South Africa and our first night was booked at what I hoped was a reputable hotel.

Needless to say - there we were standing in the middle of the road - no fuel... How could he do this to me? After hours of fighting and blaming a farmer came along with his little truck and towed us to his house. He was all alone for the week-end as the wife and kids were off to a sporting event. When he heard that it is actually our honeymoon he started playing us love songs for the rest of the night without leaving us. Pouring himself another stiff drink, he sat down and talk about the problems they are facing in Zimbabwe, the world in general, romance and his obvious love for music.

Well, no romance for us, but a helpful Zimbabwean man - that is for sure. The next day he helped us on our way to our first hotel and I was trying my best to stay positive. Supposed to be the journey of my life! We arrived at our hotel - what a dump! So dirty that I could not eat there and also not sleep there. My highly irritated new husband decided that he had enough and this is the place where we will stay.

The place was so dirty, that there was no way that one could get into the covers or under the covers. Cockroaches were crawling and probably a few other things too. The shower had years and years of old grit. I was ready to cry and leave. I decided to keep my shoes on, crawl in bed and took out a box of chock-chip cookies. My husband turned to me and said, "I love you, you know". We are still married.

A Kruger

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