Beguiled by Botswana

(Navyn) I am trying to read my book. It’s pitch dark, Paul is fast asleep and I am surrounded by unfamiliar noises, here in the middle of the Okavango Delta. I hear frogs. Large ones with deep croaking voices, perhaps they are bullfrogs. And little ones, that sound like they are dancing on wooden xylophones. In the distance I hear the deep moan of a lion calling across the wetlands as he marks his territory. I hear a wart hog rustling around, no, wait, maybe it is a hippo. Regardless, he is so close he might as well be under my pillow. Occasionally an elephant comes clamoring through the water, breaking branches and anything else in its path. Welcome to Botswana, the land of wild life, sights and sounds.

Throughout our eight days in Botswana we visited three different regions and experienced several different levels of “glamping”. That is the new vocabulary word I learned which translates to glamorous camping. Tents, even ones with charming furnishings are very cold at night as the temperature dips into the low 40s. Each night when I crawled into bed with mittens and a scarf, there was one saving grace, the hot water bottle tucked into my cold sheets to keep me warm all night. Some of the camps had no running water, some had no electricity, and none had wifi – all adding to the exploits.

The Selinda Explorers Camp settled along the Selinda Spillway in northern Botswana, was the smallest of the bunch, with just four rooms and quickly became our favorite. It resembled a time capsule of the throwback days when the British used to pack up their old leather trunks and head out on safari. If you desired a shower you simply booked a time and they brought you a bucket of hot water, hoisted it up the tree in the outdoor bathroom. You then pulled a rope to operate the gravity fed system. It is highly recommended to shower in the daytime so you can A) see what you are doing and B) enjoy the sunshine of the warm afternoons. The benefit of having no electricity was the chance to sit around the fire pit (aka African TV), tell stories and then dine under a candle-lit chandelier that hung from the ebony tree above.

Maya and Jolie were well armed for safari. They had their species guide and checklist, a bug catcher with magnifying glass, and safari hat. Every day we were able to find something new. Whether it was a journey of giraffe, a leopard with her cubs, or a hippo who tried to charge us while we were catfishing in the tributaries. We saw herds and herds of elephants. Some meandered straight through our camp, some crossed the river as we canoed by, some liked to trumpet and charge us while we were driving and some we even watched by foot as we did a walking safari.

On the way to camp one afternoon, we could see dozens of vultures perched in the tall dead ebony trees, hunched over like little old ladies studying the scene below. A pack of 18 wild dogs lay panting in the shade, allowing their bellies to digest. A patch of blood nearby indicated some kind of struggle and as we kept searching. We found the young zebra who was killed that morning and just hours later nothing more than a skeleton wearing one small piece of black and white skin was all that was left for the scavengers.

Today alone, we drove for nine hours. The reward was a pride of fourteen lions, including three young cubs and four adolescents. When we first found them, one of the females was stalking impala and wildebeests but her cover had been blown, she had been spotted. The impala kept their eye on the lioness and eventually she knew they could outrun her without her secret weapon – the element of surprise. Our open Land Rover was able to pull right up to the pride and watch their late afternoon routines unfold. We were surrounded on all sides as if we were completely invisible. The cubs wrestled with each other and tried to get the attention of their mothers who were much more focused on finding this evening’s main course. We watched them until sunset and then all at once, the mothers left their cubs behind as they moved into the bush to try hunting again as darkness swallowed up the savannah.

The bedtime chorus continued with a different orchestral arrangement performing tonight. Baritones and sopranos chimed in together for an a cappella serenade. I snuggled in with Jolie to try to digest another unforgettable day. The crickets, the hippos, the jackals, all sing us to sleep.

Jack’s Camp, located in the Makgadikgadi Salt Pans, was our last stop. It is known as The Great Nothing and true to it’s name, there does not appear to be much here. A river used to flow through here until a tectonic shift caused the river to divert and left behind just the salt as evidence. This camp is full of hidden secrets and surprises. On our first morning we are instructed to be finished with breakfast and ready to go by 7:29am. This seems quite serious, and we are not sure what to expect. We drive out into the middle of the nothing and the girls are instructed to sit in front of a hole and wait. At 7:47 as if on cue, nine meerkats poked their heads out of the hole, made sure the coast was clear, then stood up straight as arrows, warmed up their sleepy bodies in the sun and surveyed the surroundings. They didn’t even seem to notice the four girls sitting quietly and motionless behind them. One even put his hand on Zara’s knee for support. After a few minutes they were off and running as two meerkats stood guard watching for predators. The others busily sniffed the ground then dug frantically when they smelled something juicy and crunchy like a grub or a spicy scorpion underground. We followed them around for ages as their entertaining hunt for breakfast continued. Yet another phenomenal “first” to add to the very long list.

Later that afternoon we are once again instructed to be ready to go quad biking at 4:30 sharp. We biked though the flat, dry, nothingness and continued on until we reached nothing, then our local guide Dabe pulled out a soccer ball and we played an impromptu 5 on 5 match. We played until the sunset and when the saltpan was awash in pink light, we hopped back on the quad bikes and headed back on the path. By now it was getting quite dark and Dabe said, “Don’t worry, there is a campfire up ahead with a routine military checkpoint – we may need to stop.” The girls look nervously at each other but carry on until we reach the fire and realize the entire staff of Jack’s Camp has relocated to the nothingness and dinner for all will be served al fresco. We had a lovely surprise candlelight dinner at which point we expected to now go home to the tents back at the camp. Dabe once again interjects and informs the group, “Jack’s Camp has been closed for the night and if you look over there in the darkness, you will see where you will be sleeping tonight. We have brought your toothbrushes and your medications. If you have big business we have a place for you to go and if you have little business, you can pee in the very absorbent saltpan.” Off in the distance were beds spread out across the horizon. We brushed our teeth, put on warm hats, jumped in our beds, grabbed for the hot water bottles, and off to sleep we went, still smiling, under the full moon. Goodnight, goodnight Botswana, we had a ball.