AFRICAN ADVENTURE 2018 - Chapter 10 - Madkgadikgadi to Sable Alley, Okavango Delta

At breakfast we talk to Justin Everingham the assistant manager, a charming young 22 year old, English born, who speaks with a mixture of aristocratic English with South African and Botswana’s accent. He too, was shocked and delighted by the Tantra conversation last night, and greets me with a hug. He tells me his mother and I are very similar and we would get on well. He received the benefit of our coaching yesterday when he was telling us about his dilemma about whether to stay here at the end of his contract or move on. “Don’t ever under estimate the credibility this job will give you elsewhere in the world” is one message we give him.

Gerald tips AB very well, and we hug and I hold his smiling face in my hands and kiss him goodbye. The Italians are late again - they’ve been trying to replicate our experience yesterday apparently! - and we finally leave for Maun International Airport (ha ha) with a car full, including Steff and Jorge, and the 17 year old daughter of TT, the manager, who is returning to school there. She is a large girl and spends the entire 2 hour journey with her ear phones in. Some things don’t change no matter what country you are in.

The airport is busy but our transfer is handled efficiently, a guide greets us, takes our bags, and we are checked through Security/Customs by one lady, and then whisked through a door on to the tarmac where a landie awaits us for the short drive across the airstrip to our small Mackair plane. The pilot is a young white man, ably assisted by George, who guided us through customs, and within minutes we are up in the air in our eight seater plane. When we ask if we are late - the pilot replies “This is your charter. You can be as late as you want.” We are the only ones on board and leave at 1.50 pm and have two stops before our destination: one to pick an elderly German couple up, about 25 minutes into our flight - we drop them just 15 minutes later at their next camp, where we pick up two staff members flying to Maun. The runway looks like a small bandaid amongst the vast expanse of brown and yellow and oily petrol coloured rivers which flow not far below us. Gerald uses the flight to hone his aeronautic skills, he can actually keep the plane in the air by holding very tightly to his seat and keep pulling upwards. He hates small planes, and is quite pale, so I hold his hand and pat his knee in sympathy as I gaze in awe out the window. His eyes are closed. Our stop is next, and our Landrover is waiting, with our guide, KG.

The trip to the camp is about an hour, and on the way we see more birds, as we sway in a much more sedate and gentle drive compared to KB at Madkgadikgadi, KG is intent on making our drive as smooth as he can. There are violet crested rollers, weaver birds, several fish eagles, starlings and in the distance, impala and elephant. We arrive, welcomed by Sandra, a Botswana Woman of regal bearing and friendly face, she hands us a cold towel and a cold drink. We hot and tired and its 2.30 pm but a delicious cold lunch is waiting, on a vast deck, decorated in a modern African style, its absolutely beautiful, Designer Africa, with artwork, huge African pots, cushioned wooden sofas and cane furnishings and rugs and pillows and cane lamps, glossy books, mirrors, overlooking a huge water hole, where the hippos are snorting and grunting and swimming, there are dead trees and green weeds in the water, there are elephants drinking on the opposite side, birds chirp and the murmur of some African language in the background, there are ‘seed pods’ hanging, which swing in the breeze. It’s a scene from a movie, and we are in it.

We heads to our Tent, number 2, the second furthest from the lodge, and we walk along wooden boardwalks but our path is blocked by five huge elephants. We stand and watch in awe, they are completely unfazed by us, the hippos are grunting, but Sandra backs up slowly, and signals for KG to come and guide us. He approaches slowly, and we wait in the baking sun, until the elephants are ready to move along. There are specifically made ‘gates’ in each of the boardwalks so the elephants can make their way to the water hole. Our ‘tent’ is glamorous: spacious, canvas sided, with a board walk leading along the side to the front entrance, it overlooks a grassy plain, there is a super king sized bed surrounded by hanging muslin nets, wooden floors and African woven rugs, simple artwork, and behind the bed, accessible from both sides, is a big wooden room with a enclosed toilet on one side, a shower on the other, which open on to a second, outdoor shower, overlooking elephants grazing. There is shelving and racks, a safe, two basins and vast mirrors.

This is Glamping.

At 3.45 pm we are back at the lodge for High Tea, a tradition here, there are several attentive staff, all kinds of teas and coffees, iced drinks, cakes, meat balls, tiny pizzas, and several people grazing. We meet Giselle and Bill, Mona and Jay, friends travelling together, who introduce themselves saying “So you are joining us?” I want to say no, your re joining US, but I am so taken aback by their New York accent, I don’t. They are straight out of a Woody Allen movie, accents, stature, mannerisms, and .......Mona - are you a moaner? finish this off. We head out on a safari at 4.15pm, Bill looks me in the eye and says “We have to get on with each other, and we want no PRAAAABLEM. So we need to make sure we are awwwwwwlll happy, right? So where do you wanna sit?” I assure him we wont be a problem, and we are happy to sit anywhere, really. It’s still very very hot, and Mona sits with KG in front, she has a bad ankle which broke last year .... short history of these four .... finish this off We see impala, buffalo, red lechwe, and elephants. The Americans have come from Sabi Game Camp and have seen The Big Five already. They do not stop talking, in strident, nasal, strangled English, and Gerald and I look at each other and raise our eyebrows. Are we destined to have our ears talked off in the middle of the AFrican bush? Don’t people realise this territory belongs to THE ANIMALS, that we are not here to invade, but to observe, with respect and honour for them and their environment? To discuss emails and your work and your shopping out here is an absolute CRIME. This is akin to the most Sacred Cathedral, we are privileged to be here, we need to be silent, and observe,and learn, and honour and respect and to discover parts of ourselves that cannot be reached in the noise and rush and chaos of life in the city. Please stop talking, I want to say, but Gerald warns me with a gaze.

KG tells us that elephants need 350 kgs of feed per day - per DAY! - and they can be like humans, left or right handed, and we see that some tusks are worn down on the left or the right, whichever side they favour. They dig holes in the ground and their toenails so they can access the phosphorus which it is rich in, and which they need, and it provides a salt lick for other animals which need it too. We see impala, buffalo, and hippo, a few lone giraffes, and many many birds. KG stops and sets up sundowners in an unbelievably beautiful place, and the Americans get out and resume their loud conversations, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings. I know that all Americans are not lacking in awareness for I have travelled the USA and love Americans, but it seems to me that Travelling Americans are on a Mission, they get louder and when they meet Other Americans Travelling, get extremely competitive in their stories. Sometimes I feel they travel solely so they can go back home and impress people at dinner parties with their stories. Story of BEING QUIET WITH THE AMERICANS, REFLECTING ....???!!! By the time we get back to camp at 7.40 pm my eyes have drooped, I have nodded off as KG shone his powerful torch into the bush as we made our way back to the camp. The ‘Gay Group’ are eating dinner, six men and a lone woman, and loving it from the overheard conversation. Another table of noisy people who we avoided on our plane trip have arrived here, opinionated and very loud. Dusty and dishevelled, we eat a delicious meal, with one South African wines, listening to the hippos snorting, and watching a Great African Owl, which lands just feet from where we sit. He catches a frog or two for dinner, but sits and watches us as much as we watch him. We are escorted to our tent, a long way from the camp, by a guide; one cannot walk about here at night without a guide, there are no fences, and this is a private reserve, bursting with animals. We shower and fall asleep in the gigantic bed in our tent which looks like a novel from the 1920’s, with the snowy mosquito nets dropped over our bed, and lamps glowing softly. I can hear the hippos.

Thursday 27th September 2018.

We are woken at 5.30 am by KG with a sing song “Morning!” I make a luke warm cup of tea with the flask I brought last night. Short version: brief notes, to be elaborated on later ... Morning: Americans are quiet - as three are asleep? First drive: hippo fight Spur wing goose - mate for life Coucal Lone Water buck ‘Red lechwe Copper Tail bird Magpie shrike Saddle bill stork - monogamous, Mate for life Spotted wood dove Big herd water buffalo, with an injured baby (leg) Katrina Weed - deadly to waterways - came from Amazon, now being ‘helped eradicated by a weevil from Australia Blue Bush Kalahari star apple - perfume like gardenia Lone Tsebi Water buck Male impala Bee eater Mopani trees - like a cathedral - total destruction by elephants of trees hammer Koop nest Snow flake grass Yellow billed egret Zebra, Kudu Sausage tree - flowers - make antiseptic cream - they make the Mokoros from these. Our four mokoros were burned last night in the bush fire, so no mokoro trips. Wart hogs, mongoose, zebras, Southern ground hornbill Kudu If there is no road - make one - KG finds a way! Bill: Take the fork in the road. Hot hot hot. But no flies. Back at camp at 11.30 am. Hot hot hot. Lunch then back to tent for shower outdoors overlooking the hippos and elephants - and a rest for me as Gerald reads. Gerald wakes twenty minutes later SANDRA! - our tent is surrounded by 15 elephants, literally, we could not leave. They walk by slowly to the water, then back again, but cannot find their way out, so return, they stand munching trees and grass six feet from where we sit .... I photograph Gerald and the elephants in the same shot - they walk away, and return, and one circles our tent, ears flapping, tusks up high. OMG. Bill and Giselle experience this too, and the elephant move against the tent and a painting falls to the ground. High tea at 3.30 pm - more Americans have arrived, and the Swiss. At 4.15 we are out, the Americans and Us. I envy the new couple going out in a Landie all by themselves with a guide. But I am warming to the Americans. We see : Banded mongoose, Steenbok, Carmine bee eaters, Warthogs, Giraffes and their babies, AMAZING AFRICAN PAINTED DOGS! A pack of 20, plus their babies, rolling in the sand like Cino, light footed, conserving energy, puppies with cute faces, learning the ropes, unconcerned by us, trotting along. We track them as they hunt, only at dusk, they have to get dinner, eat and be back in a safe spot before the predators find them. They fan out, military style, to close in on the buck they are tracking, amazing display of technical skill.

Sundowners with the Americans and The New American arrivals. Our Americans get out and are so excited to meet their native tribe, they are all talking at the top of their voices all at once. Gerald and I walk to one side and try to block out the noise and I ask KG if he has any ear plugs, despite himself, he laughs. He is discreet and says ‘everybody has to learn how to be with the bush and the animals’. I want to throw them all to the hippos,he is an understanding man. I take a photo of Bill on the top of a anthill, the Alpha Male I tell him, and I call Giselle to join him, the Alpha Female. He takes a photo of Gerald and I. They are harmless, kind people, and I spend time asking about their families and they are generous in their questions of us. I think they think we are somewhat exotic having been born in Africa and Zambian raised, and regard much of what I say - in a VERY quiet voice, my friends will be amused to hear - with reverence and as if I were quoting the bible. Mona and Jay were married on Xmas Day, 52 years ago, and Giselle and Bill have been married just as long.

Back at camp by 7.40 pm, its a hive of activity with new arrivals and tables everywhere. The noise is excruciating, its a wonder there’s an animal anywhere around for miles - I tell Gerald next time we travel we must ensure we do not stay where Americans gather in quantity. This is a luxury camp, and one where I imagine ‘virgin American travellers’ are pointed as a starting point to Africa, but I do not want to share the AFrican bush with people so blatantly unaware. Bill has asked us to join them, but we want to eat alone - anyway, a table has been set up especially for us right at the edge of the camp overlooking the waterhole, the napkins are made up like peacocks, candles glow, the food and wine are delicious, and my darling and I are happy, together. But we spend ten friendly minutes chatting and talking with the Americans, and agree to give them my blog address. I wonder what they will make of what I write. But I have changed my mind, I like them all, a lot. I just wish they wouldn’t talk so much or so loudly. We are taken to our room about 9.30 pm by KG - ALL of us, the Swiss, and the Americans. We shower in our golden room.

Friday 28th September 2018

KG wakes us at 5.30 am - Gerald is joining him and the Americans for a safari, but I am having a slow morning. I write a thank you card and a gift for Sandra, notes for the Americans, writing up the “Time for You to Chirp” guest opinion sheet, and sorting packing. Then I spend my time writing this, catching up with (some) of my cryptic notes, its peaceful here, I am the only guest as everybody else is out on safari. I eat breakfast in solitude watching the hippos, the wifi is almost non existent, but we have had a response from Joshua, who loves the first lot of fb photos. Yesterday’s have not posted yet, and probably wont. I try to read The Elephant Whisperer, by Lawrence Anthony, just the prologue is gripping, but there is too much writing to do. It’s 11 am now, I am going to have a swim and a gin and tonic, in the pool. All alone. In silence! I am here typing.