16 minute read
Botswana An entire world of ecosystems in one almost deserted nation
UNDER AFRICAN SKIES
Words and pictures: Raymond and Nereide Greaves
On every journey, the point comes when you realise you’re getting close to your destination. If you’re heading for Europe, it’s when you start seeing signs for the Channel Tunnel; if you’re commuting to work in Croydon, it’s normally when the traffi c slows to a stop; and for us, on our expedition from London to Cape Town, it was when we crossed the Zambezi on the hilarious Kazangula ferry and arrived in Botswana.
It was a jubilant moment – we were now in Southern Africa!
We had done a lot of research before setting off, all of which suggested that travelling would only get easier from here on in. The roads would be better, the availability and quality of accommodation would improve, access to cash through ATMs would be easier and so on. Expedition travel is all about experiences and we hadn’t half had some, both good (mainly) and bad (occasionally), but now we were ready to relax and enjoy a part of Africa that was a little more like home.
A little.
Botswana is an interesting country in several respects. It is about the size of France or Texas yet has a population of slightly less than two million. As a result, the country feels virtually empty – we drove for hours between towns and saw virtually no one en route.
It also has one of the highest HIV infection rates in the world – more than 30% of the population when we visited (it has dropped to closer to 20% now but is still one of the world’s worst). Shockingly, the
Left: Unlike the authors’ Range Rover, the Kazangula Ferry feels rickety and under-powered. But even though the Zambezi was swollen from weeks of rain, it managed to chug its way across – delivering its cargo of a few vehicles at a time to the far bank, where they would leave Zambia and Central Africa behind and pass through the frontier into Botswana Below: You know that thing they say about the king of the jungle being a lion? Get up close and personal with an elephant and you’ll be left in absolutely no doubt as to who’s in charge
average age of its citizens at the time was under 15.
While this may suggest an impoverished nation, however, the reality is somewhat different thanks to a successful diamond industry and a thriving tourist sector. This is immediately evident in the quality of infrastructure and services which overall makes the country a pleasant place to visit.
Even crossing borders was going to be easier from here on in, too. Botswana, Namibia and South Africa are all part of the Southern African Customs Union, meaning the dreaded carnet would only need stamping once on entry to the region and once again at exit (Cape Town in our case), thus significantly speeding up our paperwork.
So we were in a positive mood. And not just because we felt we had finally put the horrors of the Lake Nasser ferry, the hard, dangerous going of northern Kenya, simply being in Khartoum and the tiresome nuisance of coppers on the take behind us. Being able to relax is a great feeling – and with some of the world’s most fascinating natural places to explore, Botswana is a great place to be able to do it.
The country is incredibly flat, its whole area lying at about 1000 metres above sea level. But it possesses four important, unique and fascinating ecosystems: Chobe National Park, one of Africa’s great game reserves; the Okavango Delta, an incredibly unspoilt area of bush that is flooded annually by waters flowing in from Angola; the vast Makgadikgadi salt pans, formed after an ancient lake dried up; and finally the Kalahari Desert, one of the largest areas of sand in the world.
Although we had taken a little time out of our schedule for a safari drive in Tanzania and, unforgettably, joined an organised jungle walk in Uganda to get up close with that beautiful nation’s native gorillas, our time in Africa had been more about its people. Now, however, we intended to do some serious game viewing, focusing our attentions on Chobe and the Okavango. And we were not to be disappointed.
After the ferry crossing, our first port of call was the town of Kasane, only a few kilometres away. This was to be our stepping stone into Chobe National Park.
We could see that we were very definitely coming back into a more familiar form of civilisation. The town was clean and tidy, fuel stations were abundant, bigbrand South African retailers and supermarkets were all over the place and there was even a small shopping mall – something we had not seen for a VERY long time!
As we had in the Ngorongoro, way back in Tanzania, we wanted to stay
in a lodge close to the game reserve then go in on an organised game drive. This might fly in the face of the classic (and fanciful) image of a totally self-sufficient overland traveller camping among the wildlife in his own vehicle, but our reasoning was sound – the guides on these drives are pros and they know their parks, so would spot more animals than we ever would.
Unfortunately, when we arrived in Botswana the Easter holidays were in full swing. As a result, accommodation was thin on the ground and what little we could get was rather expensive. Many years ago, Botswana adopted a deliberate policy of offering only high price, low volume safaris, the aim being to keep its superb wildernesses pristine.
In the end, we spent two nights at Garden Lodge, which was beautiful, very tastefully fitted out and finished to a very high standard. The British and German couple running the lodge created a very laid-back and friendly atmosphere, further enhanced by the classic African safari approach of communal dining at a long table. The staff were very attentive, the food was extremely good and the banter between the guides and the Dutch, German and South African guests continued well into the evening. Going on safari isn’t just about watching game – it’s about eating it as well!
The following morning, we joined an extensive game drive into Chobe Park, then in the afternoon we took a boat ride up Chobe River. Listing everything we saw would be rather tedious. But what Chobe is really famous for is its elephants – and our encounters with these huge beasts were, at times, rather too close for comfort. There were also lots of baby elephants in evidence, some still unsteady on their feet, some playing in the sand and dust, all close to their mothers for reassurance and food.
The other major highlight was spotting a group of wild dogs. I say ‘spotting,’ but in reality six were lying in the sandy vehicle tracks ahead of us, so it was actually impossible to miss them. Nonetheless, this was a really big deal as they are very elusive indeed. Although an extremely efficient predator, man nearly hunted them out of existence and they are now the third rarest predator on the African continent. Expensively produced tourist brochures will always be full of pictures of lions, cheetahs and giraffes, but if you know your wildlife the African wild dog will be on your safari wish list. We were among the very few to get lucky.
The boat ride up the Chobe River was equally enthralling and, given that the river is infested with crocodiles, there is an added level of excitement. We did see crocodiles – a juvenile hanging in the shallows and a more mature example sunning himself on the bank – but in our minds, there were many more just under the surface of the inky water.
At times, there was so much action on the banks of the river it was hard to know what to look at. A particular favourite was the baboons – they are extremely entertaining to watch and sometimes seemed just as interested in us as we were in them. There were two drinking from the river while another kept watch for crocs; young ones were practising their climbing skills in bushes and trees; an elder sat on the bank gazing into the distance contemplating the world while a couple more play-fought each other in the background.
Given that the hippos had been so elusive in the Ngorongoro, we were keen for some better viewing of this bad tempered and unpredictable animal – and Chobe delivered in spades. Large pods were cooling themselves in the river but as sunset approached they started to get more active, baring their teeth in huge yawns and sauntering out of the water. Observing by boat meant that we could get very close without getting in their way (definitely not something you want to risk doing) and we finally managed to get some decent photographs.
Both these experiences delivered superb game viewing. No way were we roughing it overland-style, but if there was ever a reason to put your hand in your pocket, this is it.
Delighted with our experience in Chobe, we pressed on deeper into the country to the town of Maun – which serves as the gateway to the Okavango Delta. This 375-mile journey took us straight through the middle of the Makgadikgadi salt pans, another one of Botswana’s major draw cards.
These pans used to form a ‘superlake’ covering more than 60,000 square kilometres (three times the size of Wales) which reached the Okavango and Chobe rivers in the far north. But then, less than 10,000 years ago, changes in the climate caused the huge lake to evaporate, leaving only salts behind.
The pans have become famous for their vast, flat, white emptiness. When conditions permit, it is even possible to drive out on to them for that truly in-the-middle-of-nowhere feeling – however the rains had been heavy across southern-central Africa in the months leading up to our visit. ‘Absolutely do not go anywhere near the pans as you will get stuck and there will be no one to help you, was the advice we had been given, which did seem fairly unequivocal.
The Okavango Delta is a complex and unique ecosystem and is one of Africa’s true, untouched wildernesses. So much so that the best bits are not really accessible by car – no, not even our Range Rover!
The Okavango River rises in central Angola, flows south-east across Namibia’s Caprivi Strip and cascades through the Popa Falls before entering north-western Botswana. At this point, its waters begin to spread and sprawl as they are consumed by the sands of the Kalahari. The Okavango, ‘the river that never finds the sea,’ disappears in a maze of lagoons, channels and islands covering an area of 16,000 square kilometres.
The result is the perennial wetland of the Okavango Delta. It’s a wonderful place to observe wildlife – though while it’s not unheard of, you’re less likely to see big cats. The experience is more about huge landscapes and mokoro (dug out canoe) rides in the water channels.
But first, you’re got to get there. Which for us meant parking our Range Rover in Maun and boarding a tiny little aircraft for a flight into the delta.
From the air, it’s clear how water dominates the whole region. There are countless small lakes, rivers and channels – even the grasslands looked largely flooded. As a result, getting around on the ground is a difficult task. It took only 30 minutes to reach our bumpy bush landing
strip from Maun but the trucks that make the journey from time to time to supply the camps with diesel and non-perishables can take two days, if they have no breakdowns.
Accommodation in the Delta is of the tented variety – and camping is something the Africans have refined over the years into an art form. At short notice, we were lucky enough to find space at Shinde Camp, one of the most established in the Delta and one of the best located for wildlife viewing both on and off the water.
Frankly, as an experience, staying at the camp ranked as highly as being in the Delta itself. First of all, the staff we were absolutely brilliant . They managed to be both relaxed and good fun, as well as delivering a high level of service at the same time. And on arrival we were sung into camp by the dinner ladies!
The communal camp areas are constructed above the bush floor and connected with elevated walkways. Accommodation is literally in tents in the bush but these tents are spacious affairs with good beds, bathrooms and pleasant decoration. Shinde strikes a very good compromise between being civilised and being ‘in the bush’.
The camp routine is a good one. Tea is served in your tent at 6am, then after an expansive breakfast the first excursion of the day is from 7.30 to 11.00. Lunch is at 11.30, after which there is a siesta period, then it’s time for afternoon tea at 3pm. The day’s second excursion starts at 3.30 and runs until sundown at around 6.30, then drinks are served ahead of an excellent dinner at 8pm.
If this makes it sound as if the whole safari revolves around food and drink… well, then that is entirely correct. Even in the bush or on a boat, proceedings would stop midmorning and excellent coffee and home-baking would appear – or in the late afternoon, our choice of beer, wine or gin and tonic would be served to enhance the enjoyment of watching the sun set. Even in our tent, there was a crystal decanter of sherry to help with preparations for pre-dinner drinks. In the haze of alcohol that ensued, it’s a wonder that we saw any wildlife at all…
And in all fairness, actually, we didn’t see that much wildlife. On the game drives we spotted the usual impalas, kudus, zebras, giraffes, elephants and warthogs without much difficulty. There was a nice pod of hippos in one of the lakes near the camp, where a few crocodiles also occasionally surfaced. Unfortunately, however, most of the predators kept very much to themselves. We did see fresh leopard tracks and spend the large part of a morning trying to find the damn cat, but it remained elusive. We even went on a late night drive, which is when many animals become active – but, apart from a mongoose, we saw frustratingly little.
We took a motorboat cruise up and down some of the many waterways and apart from some colourful birds and beautiful water lilies, there was little else in evidence. It was a very relaxing way to see the Delta, however, and enjoy its epic landscapes. On the way back to camp, we watched the sun set over a lagoon and this was sufficient compensation for the relative lack of wildlife in itself – and mere words can hardly begin to do it justice. It was probably the best,
When you’re in search of wildlife, finding a pod of hippos is a good thing. When you’re trying to get to sleep in your tent, however, knowing they’re in a nearby lake could be considered unnerving
The classic image of a lone expedition truck parked in the African bush with zebras and giraffes grazing nearby while you watch enthralled as a pride of lions tries to sneak up on them is largely just that – an image. You might argue that leaving your own 4x4 behind and paying a professional guide to take you out looking for wildlife is a bit of an overlanding cop-out. But you’ve travelled all this distance to see the animals – so don’t you want to actually SEE them?
most epic sunset either of us had ever seen.
Finally we took a mokoro ride through the waterways – and then at last the Delta made sense. This is the way the local tribes have always navigated and hunted in the Delta, and the silence and ease of moving through the tricky terrain really made us feel at one with the environment. Somehow, looking at the massive skies reflecting in the oily smooth and exceptionally clear Delta waters was very cathartic. Even without seeing a leopard, this is definitely a very special part of the world.
Another tiny aircraft transported us back to Maun, from where we contemplated our next moves. We were keen to change the oil and fuel filters on the ever-faithful Range Rover, given what we had heard about African east-coast diesel – whose high sulphur content rapidly degrades the engine oil. The trouble was, we did not have enough with us to do an oil change, and finding the grade demanded by the Rangey’s modern engine was impossible.
Just as we were about to give up and leave for Namibia, we found just enough Mobil 1 to do an oil change. There is even a small Land Rover dealer in Maun, and they were prepared to drop everything at the last minute to help us. Within half an hour, we had a clean filter and a sump full of nice new oil.
From Maun, it was a fairly uneventful 350-mile drive to the Namibian border. Thanks to great roads, we were able to average almost motorway speeds the whole way, which made shortish work of the distances. The road took us straight through the Kalahari desert – which, contrary to our expectations, was not a sea of sand but was sprinkled with grass and trees and enough grazing cows next to the road to keep the driver hovering over the brake pedal.
Given the amount of time and distance that had passed since we left London to drive to Cape Town, you’ll understand the excitement we felt here when we saw… our first signpost to South Africa! Our goal was getting closer – perhaps the road across the Kalahari wasn’t so uneventful after all…
Raymond and Nereide drove their Range Rover from London to Cape Town in the first half of 2010. You can read the full story of their expedition at www.lilongwedown.com
