If you'd asked nine-year-old me which African country would be the first I'd visit, my answer would've been clear: "South Africa!". I had a friend who was born there and I loved going over to her place to eat plaatkoekies and learn bits of Afrikaans. Her parents were often talking about Africa, so I soon learned one thing: South Africa good, Zimbabwe bad. That idea barely changed as I grew up. Zimbabwe seemed too far away, too dangerous, too unremarkable to visit. Even the documentaries about Zimbabwe's natural treasures were a bit dull. But to my own surprise, I ended up visiting Zimbabwe before South Africa last summer. The Victoria Falls, extreme inflation, tourism bubbles, I saw it all. And this is what I thought about it while I walked around in a country I thought I'd never see with my own eyes.

If only I'd known about the double visa for Zimbabwe and Zambia, I could've visited five African countries this summer...

This camping trip isn't a camping trip. This is full-on glamping. Electricity! Beds! A lamp in a tent!

Crocodile skewers are surprisingly tasty.

Feels like I'm back at uni with all these rich people spending money like it's nothing, while I'm bummed that even a visit to the Victoria Falls is already $30,-.

The Victoria Falls look so much better in real life than they do on tv!

A warthog! Pumbaa! Another one! Two Pumbaas!


Honestly, a walk along the edge of the gorge, with a view of the falls... that's just as good as any overpriced zipline.

Let me get this straight: If I cross this bridge, I am technically in Zambia.

Please leave me alone, I really don't want to buy any souvenirs while crossing a scary old bridge.

Technically speaking, I am in Zambia. Without a visa.

Zimbabwe looks nice from this side of the river.


My permit to cross the bridge would look so nice in my journal. Shame I'm not allowed to keep it.

I do not like the looks of that baboon. Not at all.

Seriously, even in a supermarket in Zimbabwe I can't escape Despacito?

I'm so hungry that even KFC next to a gas station sounds amazing.

Dozens of cars in line for a gas station that's closed. This country is indescribable...

If one more guy asks me if I want to buy souvenirs, I'm going to scream.

I'm not going to lie, Zimbabwe got on my nerves every now and then. You better leave your European expectations at the airport, or you're going to have a rough time. That is if you're brave enough to look further than the safety of your hotel, of course. But honestly, I don't regret a single thing about my time in Zimbabwe. I was set on not becoming a fan of the place solely because of some childhood memories, but Zimbabwe didn't give me the chance to think too negatively about Victoria Falls. The roar of those falls still rings in ears, the Victoria Falls bridge still makes my legs tremble and my short trip into Zambia still makes me smile from ear to ear. But apart from the street vendors that kept asking me to buy souvenirs, there was one thing that did bother me during my stay: the implication that Africa is for the rich, paradoxical as that may sound. Rich tourists hold the world in there hands in Zimbabwe, and it threw me and my tiny wallet off balance. I'd barely found my feet again when we piled into Madiba, the unreliable truck, and drive to Botswana. I'd been in Zimbabwe less than 72 hours, but it felt like a lifetime. And that was only the very beginning of the journey, with still three more weeks in Africa left.