The Okavango Delta should be on everyone’s bucket list. The world’s only inland delta and one of its last great wildernesses is formed by the Okavango River, fed by waters coming down from the Angola highlands. The delta fans out over north-western Botswana, forming deep lagoons where tiger fish lurk, papyrus-fringed channels where pygmy geese play hide-and-seek with chortling hippos, and reed-lined backwaters where aquatic antelope such as red lechwes and rare sitatunga splash through crystal-clear water so clear you can drink it.
I visit two fully “green” camps in Botswana, first Banoka Bush camp in the Khwai Community Concession. Situated on the northernmost finger of the Khwai River, the camp is named after the River San or Banoka, the first settlers in the area.
On our way from the airstrip, as we reach the new Khwai River bridge, still white and gleaming in the hot sun, five lions have got there before us. They are parked in the middle of the bridge. We wait politely for them to get up and slouch away – lions have right of way here.
Banoka Bush Camp is staffed by the local community, with manager Max Baitseng, formerly of Mombo Camp, keeping an eagle eye on everything. It’s a green camp. Wilderness Safaris pride themselves on their conservation efforts, and at Banoka, and later at Kalahari Plains Camp, have outdone themselves.
Seven solar panels provide electricity and one 10 000-litre tank provides water for the whole camp of 10 tented units and staff quarters. Don’t even think about eco-unfriendly designer water. As you arrive, you are given an empty plastic bottle and you fill it up as necessary from a big central dispenser.
One afternoon I go out on a small boat with German guests – seasoned Africa hands. We chug through drifts of pink and purple water lilies. A rare Slaty egret (85 percent of the global species are found in the Okavango) starts up from the reeds. A couple of red lechwe splosh past. Hippos eyeball us curiously in the way hippos do, then laugh their heads off and disappear under the water.
Dark clouds gather. Chris, our guide, asks if we want a glass of wine or to go back. What a question – we’re seasoned safari goers.
Suddenly, thunder and lightning pierce the sky. An elemental storm hits us that would have satisfied the most implacable Greek god. We sit in the rain amid a spectacular son et lumière show. Lightning zigzags all over the sky; thunder booms and rolls. The downpour stops, and an elephant which has been sharing the storm with us decides to cross in front of our boat and charge us. He glares at us, waves his ears, gives a half-hearted trumpet and continues his journey across the channel.
It takes an hour from Maun in a tiny plane to fly to the Central Kalahari Game Reserve, at 5 million hectares one of the world’s largest. Temperature: 47ºC and climbing.
Today it’s midsummer, and as I look down I could be in Ireland. The desert has sprung to life in a million shades of green. I see trumpet thorn bushes, finger grass, clawfoot grass, purple pod terminalia and green mopane. Instead of the stereotypical lone gemsbok posed against a yellow dune, here are herds of fat oryx.
Springbok pronk over the grass; purposeful jackals trot about; Kori bustards and secretary birds stalk the plains, Eurasian hobby falcons fly overhead. And the black-maned lions are here, roaring round my tent every night and drinking from a waterhole in the early morning.
Kalahari Plains Camp, like its sister camp, Banoka, is also “green”. It’s on a huge pan with sweeping views of the Kalahari. The insulated canvas walls and roof of your tented chalet keep you cool. Or sleep out on your roof under the stars.
On my last night, I go out alone with my guide. We bump along in our open game vehicle and, as dusk tints the horizon, find a leopard on a hunt. She freezes for 20 minutes as she stalks a steenbok no further than two metres away. She crouches low, blending with her surroundings. Not an eye blinks, not a muscle quivers. Supper is imminent.
Suddenly the steenbok is alarmed and dashes off. The leopard gets up, walks in front of our vehicle, lies down beside it and starts cleaning her whiskers. The stars blaze down as a lion starts to roar. Just another night in the Kalahari.
l Kate Turkington was a guest of Wilderness Adventures on: www.wilderness-adventures.com Tel 011 257 5111, e-mail info@wilderness-adventures.com
How to get there: Flying is the easy option, but it’s possible, if you’re a good driver, have a reliable 4x4 and a sense of adventure, to go by road to both camps. - Sunday Independent
