There’s nothing so rare these days as time to one’s thoughts and sensations.

As we descended I could see tiny elephants, almost toy-like in their proportion at this height, gathered around a vanishing watering hole. These creatures once appeared huge, yet now appeared as dots on the landscape below, set pieces in a game of life that played out below.

I often advocate on-the-ground travel to avoid the conflation of flyover. However, flying between remote safari camps – Camp Xakanaxa, Camp Okavango, and Leroo La Tau in northern Botswana’s Kalahari Desert and Okavango Delta — was required to expediently cover distance. It also lent perspective to what we’d witnessed on the ground and enhanced our comprehension of the contours and remoteness of the geography.

In retrospect, that was the point of this segment of our journey in Botswana: five days to unplug and pivot the focus, to tune into sensation.

Camp Xakanaxa: Choosing to Disconnect

Our bush plane touched down on a dirt runway cleared of animals by the driving gusts from the aircraft that landed just before ours. This somewhat primitive process is requisite when you wish to share an environment with wildlife. It’s their home turf, after all.

From the dust of the runway, we transferred by 4×4 over hardened Kalahari sand to Camp Xakanaxa in the Moremi Game Reserve.

Later, we floated straight into the waters of Xakanaxa Lagoon and Khwai River in the Okavango Delta. The hippos we searched for, those who helped carve the so-called “hippo highway” channel waterways by their trampling of pampas grass and depression of the root systems underneath, elude us. 

As we crane our necks and search for them in the waning light of the afternoon, we are awarded something else: birds.

Crossing our own wake, we notice the shallow delta waters rise and fall across the tops of tall grass. In an almost-too-perfect landscape, we watch in silence, in respectful awe, the fading sun whose refraction turned shades of violet in a darkening horizon.

Amidst final light, we coasted on what seemed like liquid glass toward home.

I wonder: What comprises ‘absolutely necessary’ anyway? Taking time away from non-stop digital connection calls that into question. I chose to leave connectivity behind, even if for a few short moments in an otherwise fully connected life. This is a respite to reboot and to clear the mind.

Just then, Big Ben — as everyone in the camp affectionately knows him — invites us to sit by the fire pit under the canopy of shade trees at the water’s edge. Audrey and I join the gathering. Some guests are newly arrived while others have adjusted to the nightly routine. In the process of exchange, we get to know the stories of the people around us, not only where they were from, but also why they are here in this remote area of Botswana.

No one has a smartphone in hand. No heads tilted, no notifications. No interruptions, except silence. Here, lulls in conversation aren’t awkward spaces to be filled. Rather, they are more like an invitation to appreciation: to note the stillness, the moonlight reflecting off of the water, the passing breeze, or the rustle of tall grass indicating that a bird or other animal lurks nearby.

I would not connect to the internet during my time here, or at the other camps. And I would see few others do so in those five days. For this, I was grateful. And for the ambience of conversation unimpeded by digital interruption, I was more grateful still. I have the feeling it made us more attuned to our surroundings and more thankful, even for “small” things.

For this luxury, the news and the rest of the world could wait.

Xakanaxa: A Lesson from Lions

I wake up in our tent cabin — to call it such isn’t even fair for the luxuriousness in which I find myself. If ever there was an image of a far-off African safari lodge in the middle of nowhere, well-appointed, whose nights and early mornings knew sounds of wildlife moving about in the dark and plying the nearby waters, this was it.

A few minutes into our early morning game drive, Conrad, our guide, stops abruptly and looks down at the road. He surveys the tracks in the sand: “The ground, it’s like the morning newspaper. It tells the movements of the night — which animals were here, where they came from, where they are going.”

His read: a pack of wild dogs had come through recently. Lions passed last night, too. He translates, then offers perspective. “This is Mother Nature, there are no guarantees. Let’s see what we will see.”

I’m not sure why — maybe because I’d missed the kill itself — but the word ‘massacre’ struck me as odd. Those dogs didn’t massacre. They really just needed to eat, as wild dogs do. They kill, but they do so discriminately.

After a few days, you come to accept that whatever you witness — violence among it — is just the cycle of life in the wild.

We're interrupted by radio chatter in the local Setswana language: a new animal sighting.

As we approach our target, we see a male lion sprawled in the tall grass aside a lioness. A couple, maybe?

As Conrad tells it, a male lion killed her previous set of cubs because they were not of his stock. Now she defensively mates with – and manipulates — all the males in the area. This way, each is tricked to think he's the father of the newly arrived cubs, so he won't kill them. There’s so much more to what we see than what first meets the eye.

And we humans think dating is difficult.

Camp Okavango: Life in the Eyes of Delta John

We make our way deeper still into the Okavango Delta, this time aboard a smaller, 5-seat airplane. The waterways beneath us are carved of runoff. The volume of water from the Angolan Highlands is just enough to fill the plains of the delta each season. Yet as it moves further south it finds its terminus in evaporation in the Kalahari Desert, just as the flow finds its stride.

We take a ride in a mokoro (dugout canoe), launched from the tall grass of the banks at Camp Okavango. A man I’ll call “Delta” John Carter takes the lead with Audrey forward in his canoe. His gentle demeanor belied a plain wisdom drawn straight from a life amidst the rising and falling water cycles of the delta.

His colleagues throughout the region don’t call him Delta John. They have another name for him instead: Legend.

John never received a formal education, but instead learned from his surroundings and his elders. Kops, our other guide, explained, “He has encyclopedias of wisdom inside of him about this land, the animals, the plants, this earth. You can’t teach that in schools.”

No, you can’t.

In the day’s waning light, our mokoros glide through papyrus and tall grass that just days before were dry, illustrating how quickly the delta fills as the Angolan floodwaters arrive.

The following morning we set off for something completely new: tracking animals on foot. A walking safari.


It's one thing to see the paw print of a lion in the sand when you're in the safety of a 4×4 vehicle capable of a quick getaway. It’s another entirely when you're on foot, wondering whether the lion you hope to spot is instead watching your movements from within the tall grass nearby.


For visitors like us, this was the nature of adventure. For John’s family living on the delta, this was survival.

I may not be able to smell the animals like John, but I could take a page from his book of observation to deepen my own life experience.

Leroo La Tau: Beauty in Numbers

To the southern reaches of the Okavango Delta, we flew to Leroo La Tau, a camp whose lodge and rooms were positioned atop the bank of the Boteti River on the edge of Makgadikgadi Pans National Park.

Our aprés-lunch routine revolved around a dream-like nap on our veranda overlooking the river basin. As each day advanced, the area would turn into a playground for zebras, elephants, cows that drifted in from a nearby village farm, and maybe a predator or two. Mid-nap, I might catch a glance of a dozen zebra down by the water taking a drink and grazing on fresh patches of green.

Yes, the bull elephant and zebra were still there below me. This wasn’t a dream, but rather the view from our back deck.

I could have stayed there for hours, drifting in and out of sleep and watching the scene at the river, but our afternoon game drive was waiting.

“What would you like to see? This is nature, so there are no guarantees. But if I know your interests I can try to focus our drives,” Lasty, our guide, asked just as we departed on our first afternoon game drive together.

“If it walks, runs, flies, buzzes…I would like to see it!” Berndt, a fellow traveler from Germany, called from the back seat of our cruiser.

His request was almost cliché. But it wasn’t. He opened like a child, spreading wildlife and bird guides across seats amidst the excitement. His energy was more remarkable still that he was a safari veteran of over twenty years across Africa.

He didn’t carry a camera. Only binoculars.

When the late afternoon light softened, Lasty perched our cruiser on a hill overlooking the river valley. As we set off to descend for a closer look at the animals taking their final drink of the day, Berndt took a sweeping look around him, as if he was taking everything with a single inhalation.

“It’s beautiful! This is so beautiful! Thank you, Lasty, for bringing us here.”

While I had been enjoying the scene until then, I looked at the view below me with fresh eyes, with the aid of joy and innocence by osmosis, and realized just how correct Berndt was. In its smallness, in its vastness, in the truest sense of the word, this was beautiful, as in “full of beauty.”

The next afternoon we descended into the river valley for one last time, the final game drive of our visit to Botswana.

Just as I’d grasp the scale and volume of animals, more would seem to pour into my field of view. I noticed the odd bark of the zebra, something you’re more likely to hear amongst such numbers of them, their varied markings, their tendency to skittishness in this environment.


Lasty provided context: “If you think this is a lot, you should see this in a month. We will have 25,000 zebras here.”

A few hours later we stopped on the other side of the river for our sundowner, one final drink to mark the end of the day. As we enjoyed our gin and tonic — glasses to the sunset — I noticed Lasty’s gaze jump from a spot on the bank above us down to the last of the zebra at the watering hole below.



“Do you hear that?” Lasty asked.



I heard nothing.

Try again.

Nothing.

“I think it was a grunt of a lion.” Lasty said. “The zebra are looking that way, at attention. There’s something moving down the hill. See it?”

At first I saw nothing. Then I narrowed my gaze in dust of the waning light. Eventually, I could make out a shadow moving through the bushes.

We followed the lion’s tracks, right to him. Under our gaze, in the faintest shadow of our cruiser, a juvenile male lion nonchalantly took a drink of water, enjoying a sundowner of his own, with a view of the zebra.

From the dining room that evening, I glanced up at the lodge laptop connected to satellite internet in the loft reading room. In all our meals, I’d barely noticed the space as peaceful as it was, let alone the computer.

No one was on it. Apparently, the world could wait.

The post Disconnecting to Reconnect: A Journey Into the Okavango Delta, Botswana appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Late afternoon to an approaching sunset on Botswana’s Chobe River. As I leaned back in one of the director’s chairs on the deck of our boat, I had what I might refer to as a “Pale Blue Dot”* moment.

“What’s a Pale Blue Dot moment?” you might ask.

Allow me to explain the circumstance, the reference and the connection as best and briefly as I can. Then we'll go into the experiences in the area that led up to this.

A “Pale Blue Dot” moment is one where you regard a powerful experience you’re having, overlay it onto the canvas of your life, then consider it in the vastness of the universe. Not small stuff, admittedly.

Simultaneously, your immediate surroundings draw your attention to the emotional magnitude of the sensations at hand — in this case: the glass-like surface of the river, the birds of prey aloft, the gradient of a setting sun. Then, just as I found myself on the emotional brink, a family of elephants bounded down over a hill to take the day’s final drink on the bank of the river.

This moment would serve as a fitting conclusion to the sum of our experience in Chobe over the previous four days. If I didn’t know any better, I might imagine someone scripting it all, playing me for the choked-up fool I was about to become.

Certain contexts in life seem to catalyze such Pale Blue Dot moments. Chobe, in all its dimensions, was one of them. The landscape, the humanity, the scores of other living inhabitants — in concert with the cycle of the rising and setting sun across the Chobe River — struck simultaneous chords of admiration and concern.

I relished the beauty of what was at hand. It reminded me that we have something special on our planet, something I myself admit to occasionally taking for granted. Additionally, I feel that if we are not more mindful, that beauty is among which we stand to lose.

In the words of Carl Sagan:

“To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.”

It’s likely that you’ll visit Chobe, an area in northern Botswana with a national park and river of the same name, motivated primarily by the draw of game drives and the cycle of wildlife along the river’s edge. However, thanks to some select activities we not only had a unique safari experience, but we also emerged with a sense of Botswana’s history and a deep taste of its local culture.

To help plan your trip we created this experiential travel guide to Chobe. Our intent is to offer some diverse inspiration and practical advice to plan your Chobe itinerary by adding new experiences to an existing trip or to help you sculpt one if you happen to be assembling one from scratch.

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• Chobe Experiential Travel Guide
• Practical Details for Traveling to Chobe

1. Watch a Family of Elephants Take a Sundown Drink From the Chobe River

Admiring elephants from our boat felt more intimate than other elephant sightings we’d previously experienced. Perhaps because we were less intrusive to the elephants on the water than we might have been to them on land, they seemed to go about their work and play without paying us any mind. Meanwhile, we'd had what felt like a front row seat.

Their agility and playfulness often seem to defy their size — most of the time, that is — until you witness a baby elephant doing a face plant.

2. Enjoy a Local Feast, Including Baobab Yogurt

Botswana’s cuisine reflects the local land, and features a focus on staples that perform well in the seasonal semi-arid climate: maize, sorghum and cattle. In addition to Botswanan standards such as seswaa (pounded beef), samp (maize) and morogo (greens, bean leaves) our home-cooked feast also included treats like tswii (water lily with beef), mabele (sorghum porridge), mopane (worms – in full disclosure, we had a hard time getting these down, but you must try them at least once), madila (sour milk yogurt), and for the grand finale, a sweet-tart yogurt made from the fruit of the baobab tree.

We enjoyed all of this in the village of Kachikau in the Chobe Enklave (near to Chobe National Park). We gathered — in a pleasant, informal environment — under the shade of a tree outside the home of Mma Mercy, our host for the afternoon. As we floated questions about food, conversation topics naturally drifted to family, community, weddings and how, or if, traditional knowledge and ways are being lost in the transition to the “new” generation. This last bit, we've found in our travels the world over, serves as an item of universal debate.

Note: This experience is a component of the Chobe Game Lodge cultural exploration day.

3. Hop In An Electric Vehicle and Enjoy a Game Drive…In Silence

Electric cruisers: not only good for the environment, but also better for the game drive experience.

Why? Animals appreciate the silence, too. You’ll really notice it the next time you’re in or next to a gasoline or diesel powered Land Cruiser (or similar 4×4), particularly after its engine starts. The sounds of an engine, cranks and roars, can sometimes startle the animals.

4. Learn About Chobe’s Past, Present and Future from a Local Legend

“I remember Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor when they were here for their honeymoon (in 1975). Their plane had a rough landing; he was particularly shaken up. Rumors are that’s why they decided to get married again so soon,” Albert explained.

Having grown up in a nearby village that was resettled after the Chobe National Park was established, Albert has seen it all. He possesses a deep well of local knowledge and pairs it with a remarkable ability to connect the past, present and future with a dash of a good story or two.

Albert was a member of the original construction crew at Chobe Game Lodge when it was first erected in 1971-72. Today, he gives eco-tours of the lodge’s sustainability initiatives, from chronicling the lodge's efforts to reduce its environmental footprint to how it provides environmental education and job training to youth in the nearby town of Kasane.

To provide perspective on all that has changed in the lodge these last years, Albert goes on: “We used to dig big holes and bury the garbage in the ground. The baboons would always dig it all up. The next day it would all be spread around. They’d throw bottles at each other, and at us.”

He gazed over at the bio-gas system, incinerator, and recycling operations: “This is much better. Nothing wasted. And no baboons.”

5. Enjoy a 17-Lion Morning

“What time do you need to return? I’ve just heard there’s a large pride of lions nearby. Shall we go?” Lynn asked.

Would we like to see more lions?!

Yes, more lions please.

Our morning up until that point was remarkable enough. We’d earlier seen a pride of five lions that included a mother and four cubs. We took in plenty of fabulous new bird species. In other words, we would have returned to the lodge more than satisfied.

But, an additional pride of 12 lions, including some very playful juveniles, really put a notable and unexpected touch on our morning game drive experience.

What a morning, indeed. A 17-lion morning.

6. Watch the Sun Rise Over the Chobe River from the Deck

Although we don't usually consider ourselves early risers, the early morning canvas of life on the river gave us plenty of reason to change our ways. Most guests are on early morning game drives — or under the covers — so if you go out to the deck at sunrise you'll likely have the area to yourself. Only the grunts of the hippos below may break the silence of first light.

7. Get a Different Perspective from an All-Female Guiding Team

“I am always learning. That’s what I like about this job. Things happen in nature here that you can’t read about in books. And I get to share this with visitors from around the world and learn from them,” Lynn explained.

As unusual as it was to have a female guide in Africa, it was even more so that Lynn was one of an entirely female guiding team of 16 women at Chobe Game Lodge. As we learned about the hunting habits of the fish eagle, how long lionesses care for their cubs and why Secretary Birds are called as such, Lynn also shared with us her journey of becoming a guide as a Botswanan woman – including the challenges, and also the support she’s received along the way from her family, fellow guides, and guests.

8. Watch the Elusive Honey Badger Dart Away in the Early Morning

Visitors are all about the big game: elephants, giraffes, and the big cats. It’s natural. Don't forget the small game, lesser known animals you might otherwise overlook.

Take, for example, the elusive honey badger. They are considered one of the fiercest animals around. It even earned itself several entries in the Urban Dictionary. My personal favorite is “The Chuck Norris of the animal kingdom.”

Sadly, we have no photo. He dashed away before we could catch him in the frame.

9. Try Your Hand at Basket Weaving

Ever watch something you've never given particular notice to before and think, “Looks simple enough”?

That is basket weaving. There's a reason for the liberal arts college cliché of a basket weaving course: it's exceptionally difficult.

Audrey attentively watched Lillian perform her work. Her hands moved the reeds, straightening and weaving them together in a forever battle of close-up work. From a distance, the steps looked pretty straightforward. There was even a 2-year old child next to her who seemed to have picked it up.

Then it was Audrey's turn. Lillian patiently gave her a crash course in how to use the tiny awl, at the same time keeping the reeds wet so they could bend. Pull them tight, follow the two-colored pattern.

Easy? Not so. I couldn't bring myself to the embarrassment of trying. Let’s just say I have a whole new respect for these traditional baskets — and the women weaving them — as I now know firsthand what goes into their creation.

10. Ride a Bicycle to the Four Corners Where Zambia, Zimbabwe, Namibia and Botswana Meet

We have a soft spot for memorable land border crossings. There’s a thrill of possibility and unknown when you pass between two nations on foot, or in this case, by bicycle.

Our bicycle ride to the Four Corners began at Bakwena Lodge on the edge of the town of Kasane. After a pedal through a quiet village, we reached the main road where trucks were lined up for as long as the eye could see.

“Sometimes they wait here for weeks, sometimes a month, to cross the Zambezi River into Zambia. The truck drivers can’t leave their trucks. If they lose their spot they won't get it back. All they can do is wait,” Steve, our guide, explained. Movement of goods across borders in this part of the world: glacial.

Fortunately, for the rest of us on foot, bicycle or car, you can board the ferry with little wait. During our quick ride across to the Zambia side, we attempted to note which country was where, pointing accordingly. Even the experienced among us seemed challenged by the task.

Full Disclosure: There is a 100-meter gap between the borders of Zimbabwe and Namibia.

Note: Bakwena Lodge organized our bicycle trip to the four corners. They offer cycling day trips to nearby villages as well.

11. Watch Birds Steal the Show

We hadn’t expected birds to be such a significant component of our experience at Chobe. However, from our first boat ride on the river to our final game drive in the park, they played a critical role in the show.

Birds are easy to overlook in the shadow of big game, but don't let their size fool you. They are gorgeous, varied, vocal and most of all, absolutely crucial to the ecosystem.

Stop, look around, and listen. And, your senses will be heightened to the birds and their song.

From giant birds like eagles, storks and cranes…

to the small like rollers, swifts, and bee-eaters.

Big thanks to Lynn for helping us to appreciate the beauty of the small, including Chobe's birds. She was a master of bird knowledge — not only their names, but their behaviors, calls, and migration patterns. Really remarkable.

12. Drink Sorghum Beer the Local Way

Beer. It's universal. In Botswana, the traditional brew is made from sorghum. To drink it properly means to politely slurp (gulp?) from a big clay pot and pass it around the circle to everyone in the group. Sip without spilling. Not easy for this novice.

How did it taste? Slightly sweet, yeasty, and mildly effervescent. Refreshing on a hot day, but also deceiving, as it is often more potent than the flavor suggests.

13. Enjoy a 100-Giraffe Afternoon

Watch a giraffe walk across the plain, carrying its lanky body in this oddly graceful stride that seems to demand its own theme music. Try to keep a straight face. Then watch a herd of them. Harder still. Behold one of the most artistically rendered, yet gawky safari animals around.

But don't get me wrong. I appreciate the giraffe.

If your afternoon game drive piles on the giraffes, you begin to count. Then you reach 100 giraffe, and you start to lose count. Does that constitute peak giraffe?

14. Learn the Meaning Behind the Design

Yes, it turns out even baskets can tell a story.

“Tears of giraffe, head of a zebra, running ostrich.” Mma Mercy sorted through the baskets on the ground, indicating the meaning of each traditional design.

We looked for a basket to take home with us. One in particular stood out.

“Tortoise knees,” Mma Mercy said as we held up our basket. We looked at her, confused. She went on to explain, offering a physical demonstration of how tortoise’s legs and knees work. “I don’t know why they call it this, but this is what our grandparents told us. And we carry on the tradition.”

Now, I can’t look at our basket — one we now use for holding sliced bread in Berlin — without seeing those tortoise knees and recalling Mma Mercy’s laugh as she pantomimed her version of a tortoise.

Lesson: The opportunity to tell a story is never wasted. Next time you buy a basket — or anything, really — ask if there’s a story.

15. Listen to the Call of the Jackal

Listen to the call of each of the animals. Visitors are often understandably focused on taking photographs and watching wildlife, but it's just as satisfying to put the camera down and simply listen, separating the various animal calls. Notice also how an animal call may change depending upon its purpose: to connect with others socially, to alert and warn others of danger, or to indicate interest during mating season.

One morning, we learned that the jackal issues forth a beautiful bark when he wishes to make contact with other jackals nearby. Communication is universal in the animal world.

16. Pay an Impromptu Visit to a Family Farmstead

Since sorghum had been such an integral ingredient of our Botswanan feast, it was fitting to pay an impromptu visit to a local family farm on our way back to the lodge. Harvest season had just passed, so the family was drying, separating and sorting the pods to prepare them for sale and for use at home.

The visit also illustrated how work is divided in rural Botswana. Women usually take control of agriculture as men take control of the animals. On this farm we met three generations of women working together and saw just how the baskets we had seen earlier in the crafts shop get used in their traditional and intended way.

17. Find the Sable Antelope Through the Tall Grass

If it weren't for Lynn, we would never have spotted a small herd of sable antelope hanging out in the tall grass on the edge of the road. She warned us that they are skittish and might run when we pulled up to take a closer look. Most of them took flight, but the male pictured here watched us just as we watched him.

It's probably fair to say that antelopes aren't as appreciated as other wildlife on game drives. They are beautiful creatures, however. And the sable is one of the more unusual among them.

17. Count the Stripes on Botswana's National Animal

After your eyes recover from seeing so many zebra at once, look again and you'll realize that no two zebras share the same markings…or number of stripes.

One might imagine the elephant to be Botswana's national animal, given their numbers in the country. Why then the zebra? Several Batswana told us that it was chosen as the national animal because, like the black and white bands on the national flag, the zebra's stripes symbolize racial harmony and the diversity of the nation.

18. Spot the Ancient Predator at the River's Edge

After all the scenes of animals drinking from the Chobe River, a crocodile on its shores reminds us that the animal world also knows its cycle of life and death, of predator and prey. Whether it's apparent or not, most animals are on constant lookout to avoid being eaten by predators. At the same time, predators spend most of their hungry, waking lives pondering and seeking their next meal. Such is life in the wild.

19. Let the Mongoose and Warthogs Take Care of Your Lawn

Although it can be a bit startling at first to exit one's room and witness a sounder of warthogs (yes, that's the collective noun — oh, the joys of a travel writer writing of his safari) munching the grass and packs of mongoose (I so wish they were called mongeese) wondering what their purpose is, there's good reason to also appreciate their presence and their function. Think of them as natural lawn mowers and pest control. They are pretty cute, too.

20. Have a Drink During a Sundowner on the Chobe River

For a safari-goer in southern Africa, the sundowner is the defining ritual to mark the end of the day. The defining prop: a gin and tonic or glass of wine in hand.

As deep shades of red and orange take over the sky and reflect off the water, a quiet descends and engulfs our electric boat. We float as the sky transforms into something almost molten, then retreats to the deepest ends of the color spectrum.

Some moments later, Mother Nature’s show is over. However, the peace and serenity of the moment remains.

Note: Chobe Game Lodge is the only lodge located inside Chobe National Park. As a result, its boats can remain on the river longer at sundown because they do not have to spend time leaving the park before its official closing time.

Practical Details for Visiting Chobe National Park

When to Visit Chobe National Park

We visited in early June. It was still relatively early in the dry season, which typically lasts from May to October and just on the edge of Botswana's high tourist season (July-October). We were impressed with the volume and diversity of wildlife we saw, but we’ve been told that as the dry season wears on, the concentration of animals along the Chobe River increases as it becomes the only available water source.

We’ve also heard that the rainy season (November – April) can be an excellent time to visit, as the area is green and lush. Don’t let the “rainy” part deter you, as we’ve been told the rain typically lasts only for an hour or two every three or four days. Additionally, you can often find discounts during this time.

Note: Botswana is in the southern hemisphere, so May through July is winter.

What to Pack for a trip to Chobe National Park

The Chobe area is on a dry, desert plain. It's often cool in the morning and night, while the weather warms up during the day. Temperatures vary depending on whether you visit in June (winter) or September (summer), but layers and sun protection ought to be your focus.

• Fleece Jacket: Nice to have a warm layer for the early mornings and late nights. If you visit during the winter consider bringing a windbreaker as well.
• Long-sleeved shirt: Good for sun protection and warmth. Keeps the mosquitos away in the early evening, too.
• Trousers: Comfortable and light. We're partial to these his and hers Clothing Arts travel pants. We wore them daily.
• Hats: A hat is always a good idea as the desert sun is powerful. If you visit during Botswana’s winter then a warm cap or [easyazon_link keywords=”beanie” locale=”US” tag=”uncormarke-20″]beanie[/easyazon_link] will do wonders to keep you toasty warm on breezy early morning game drives.
• Sunscreen: The higher the SPF, the better.
• Lip balm: The dry desert environment can do a number on your lips. Carry plenty of lip balm with you.

Do not worry about bringing lots of clothes as the lodges usually offer laundry service free of charge.

Luggage

If your trip to Botswana includes taking a bush flight to some of the more remote camps, be sure to bring a duffel bag or backpack (we carried our Eagle Creek backpacks so we could enclose the straps in a zippered cover). Suitcases with wheels are not allowed on bush planes. Also, the maximum weight per person on these small aircraft is 20kg per person total, not only for checked baggage.

Medical Considerations for Chobe

If the time of year of your visit coincides with the wet season, you may want to consider taking or carrying anti-malarial medicine. Since our visit (in June) coincided with the dry season, we opted not to. If you have any doubts, consult the lodge and/or your local travel clinic prior to your visit.

How to Get to Chobe

If you're flying then the easiest options is to arrive at Kasane International Airport. It is a 30-minute drive from the entrance to Chobe National Park and is also a good jumping off point for visiting Victoria Falls in neighboring Zambia and Zimbabwe. There are several flights per day from within Botswana, as well as from nearby countries (e.g., South Africa). Our route took us from Germany to Johannesburg on South African Airways and then on Airlink to Kasane. We recommend Skyscanner or Expedia to compare flight prices and book tickets.

Alternatively, you can cross by land (or ferry) from neighboring Zambia, Namibia, or Zimbabwe.

Visa and Money

Most visitors to Botswana do not need a visa prior to entering the country. For the official word, consult this Botswana tourism visa page which includes a list of countries whose citizens can visit Botswana visa-free. The length of a standard tourist visa is 90 days.

The national currency of Botswana is the Pula. If you anticipate staying in lodges where food and transport are inclusive, it may not be necessary to change money. Most lodges accept U.S. dollars and to a lesser extent, Euros. Credit cards are also often accepted. It is recommended to bring $USD cash for staff and guide tips and other incidentals.

* Read Carl Sagan's words regarding our Pale Blue Dot and listen to them in this video.

The post From Wildlife to Village Life: An Experiential Guide to Chobe, Botswana appeared first on Uncornered Market.

Prior to our visit to Botswana, I pondered a 1959 East German school map of Africa hanging on our living room wall. I traced the red lines of its borders until I landed in a central patch of southern Africa.

There it is. Bigger than I had imagined: “Betschuanaland (Brit.) Protektorat.”

So much has transpired on the continent in the last 50+ years since this map was created. Some countries have declared independence or changed names while others no longer exist, but the land and people remain through these changes. And that is why, although no longer current, this map still stokes curiosity.

Botswana is in the thick of it. Small amidst the vastness of the continent, its landmass is bigger than we imagined – just about the size of Texas. Tucked between South Africa, Namibia, Angola, Zambia, and Zimbabwe, there it is.

But, how did it get there? What defines it and made it what it is today?

Although our stay in Botswana would not render us experts, our conversations with local Batswana (that’s what people from Botswana are called) and Africa-experienced visitors from other countries filled us in during our recent visit. Before, during and after our trip we've been asked questions about Botswana, the country itself — characteristics, distinctions. So, before we dive into what we experienced there, we share some of the more enlightening observations.

1. Botswana Was Never Officially Colonized

Although Botswana celebrates 50 years of independence later this year — on the same date as our wedding anniversary as it turns out – it was technically never a colony.

“How does that work?” you might ask. We asked the same thing. The process by which Botswana became a British protectorate in 1885 and became an independent country in 1966 says a great deal about its people and their sense both of harmony and good timing.

In the 1870s and 1880s, in order to avoid the expansionist inclinations of the advancing South African Boers, the three main chiefs came together to appeal to the United Kingdom for protection, which in a game of African geopolitical chess helped them declare the Bechuanaland Protectorate (1885). Decades later, on September 30, 1966, the Republic of Botswana quietly became a fully independent country in a peaceful transition that involved democratic elections, a rarity in this part of the world. Together, these events seem to have set the prevailing tone of peace and stability in Botswana.

During our visit, despite the actual anniversary being months away, walls and buildings throughout the country were painted with Botswana’s tri-colored flag in preparation to celebrate. On several occasions, Batswana proudly explained to us the symbolism: blue for water, and black and white bands to depict the country’s diverse ethnic makeup and the harmony of different races.

On more than one occasion, we also heard an emphasized distinction: “Our flag looks very different from other flags of countries in Africa.”

2. 2.1 Million People in a Country the Size of Texas (or France)

For as large as Botswana is, it’s home to less than 2.1 million people. Given its place in Africa, this struck us as remarkable. However, it began to make more sense once we considered how little fertile land was available for farming. This also explains how you can drive across the country for hours or fly over vast tracts of land without ever seeing another human being.

If you wish to feel the vastness of open space devoid of human touch, then Botswana might be a good travel fit for you.

3. High on Safety and Stability

A few years ago, a color-coded world map of travel safety – colored green for the safest countries, red for the most dangerous — made the rounds. Although we took issue with the map, one aspect stuck out: the only “green” country in Africa was Botswana. To the point, Batswana proudly point out that their country has not experienced wars, insurgencies, or instability within its borders for decades.

Safety is a matter of circumstances and perspective — and nothing is ever guaranteed anywhere, really. However, during our time in Botswana, we felt perfectly safe visiting local villages, flying the bush plane routes, and moving to and in the camps themselves.

Batswana pride themselves on this safety and this stability; it's something they place high value on as part of their own society. As one person joked, “Even with politics, some people get angry on Facebook for a day but that's it. We're laid back like that.”

4. Low on Corruption and the “Resource Curse”

Whether stability is the cause or effect of this, I’m unsure, but Botswana also ranks near the top of the list of countries in the world for transparency and low corruption. This may surprise you when you hear that Botswana is also the world’s largest producer of diamonds.

“How does that work?” you ask? How did Botswana avoid the “resource curse” that sends other countries in Africa into the kind of fits of violence and wealth-controlling corruption that often accompanies the discovery and exploitation of oil, diamonds and other minerals. Apparently, and this is where the “good sense of timing” I alluded to earlier comes in, the country’s public announcement of its discovery of diamonds – was made after its declaration of independence. This meant that a purely Botswana government had control, and made investment in things like free education and health care. This took the country from one of the poorest countries in Africa at the time of independence to one of the most prosperous today.

One of my favorite stories of anti-corruption and rule of law, not involving diamonds:

After a fairly deep conversation about corruption and the country’s history, we were given a timely introduction to a young man named Limbo, one of the Chobe National Park guards. He seemed a sort of local celebrity. “Notice his presidential medal,” James, one of our hosts, said.

The story goes that Limbo was working the gate one night when the presidential convoy pulled up, seeking entry into the park after closing hours to make a short cut to their destination.

Problem was: Limbo was instructed not to let anyone in the park after dark. He took this instruction literally. Even after the president’s team asked Limbo to make an exception considering the request came from the president himself — “This man’s the president,” they said — Limbo did not budge. He refused the convoy entry, explaining that the rules said no vehicles allowed in after 6:30PM. These were the president’s rules after all, so the president himself ought to respect them, too.

After realizing that Limbo wasn’t about to change his mind, the convoy turned around and continued on its way, having been denied their evening short cut.

Not long after the incident, Limbo received a letter from the president inviting him to Gaborone, Botswana’s capital city, where the president awarded him a medal – one he now proudly wears — in recognition of his commitment and adherence to the rules.

5. 85% of Botswana: Kalahari Desert

Botswana is not covered in huge iconic sand dunes, but instead the very fine sand and brush of the Kalahari Desert. Counter-intuitively, animal life thrives in this arid environment and the various patches of water sources that come and go with the seasons. The adaptation of vegetation, animals and humans to an often harsh and demanding environment – one that sees warm days and cold nights and no rainfall for months on end — is a remarkable story.

The cycle of the survival of herds to the final days of the dry season just before life-saving rains is life-and-death drama at its most intense.

6. Okavango Delta: A Fascinating Flow of Flood Waters Into the Desert

But there’s water, too, in Botswana.

Even after seeing the waters of the Okavango Delta from the window of an airplane and witnessing it up close in a mokoro (dugout canoe), I’m still trying to get my head around how its seasonal mechanics drives the rhythm of animal and human life.

As the Angolan highlands and Okavango River flood during their rainy season, water slowly begins to make its way into Botswana, forming the Okavango Delta from the “panhandle” to its “fingers”. This movement of water, from its origin to its most outer reaches, can take up to six months.

As many of Botswana’s rivers and waterholes empty with the dry season, other nearby areas fill with water, and lagoons and waterways re-emerge. Eventually and simultaneously, much of the water evaporates into the Kalahari sand and the cycle begins anew. Locally, the changes are quick, seeming to take place overnight or in only a few days.

During a walking safari at Camp Okavango, Kops, our guide, pointed to a large pool where impala were taking a drink: “That was not there a week ago; it was just sand and brush.”

This annual flow of water brings high concentrations of animals to drink from the network of rivers and lagoons that make up the Okavango Delta, thereby serving up the ideal circumstances for a seasonal variety of safari experiences.

7. Botswana Banned Game Hunting in 2014

Despite the recent attention on the Southern African hunting scene with the killing of Cecil the Lion in neighboring Zimbabwe and the black rhino in Namibia, I really had no idea about the big money in this business until I began to speak with locals and visitors well educated in this topic. (For an interesting examination of hunting and discussion as to whether it hurts or helps conservation, listen to this Radiolab podcast.)

Botswana made a bold but difficult move. In order to focus on conservation and to increase wildlife populations where it was seeing a decline, it banned game hunting in 2014. (Note: the ban is technically temporary so the government may re-evaluate the effectiveness of the policy in terms of animal population and the replacement of lost hunting income with alternative tourism income.)

In contrast, the stories from neighboring countries of declining animal populations, increasing sales of hunting licenses, big money and companion corruption stand in stark contrast. This point was driven home when we happened to be watching elephants on the Botswana side of the Chobe River. In just a few steps over an invisible border with Namibia the rules are different.

One explanation for the country’s focus on conservation: Botswana’s president, Ian Khama, is a wildlife activist and the person once responsible for Botswana’s anti-poaching unit. The focus on sustainable tourism aims to protect animals and their environment (38% of land is national parks and reserves), and provide a foundation for a viable, lasting source of tourism income.

Just as one would expect, however, wild animals do not obey national park borders. Lions, in some cases, have figured out that donkeys and cows from nearby farms are an easier feed than a zebra or wildebeest. Conservation efforts must also be paired with co-habitation education. To avoid the common response of a farmer shooting the offending predator (e.g., the lion), the government aims to compensate families for the loss of domesticated animals due to wildlife incidents. The idea: while a the death of a cow is a loss, it’s easier to re-produce another cow than it is another lion.

All this underscores in action that conservation and sustainable tourism efforts are never really sustainable without the active attention to and involvement of people and local communities.

8. 120,000 Elephants!

At 120,000, Botswana’s elephant population is among the largest in Africa (whose estimated total is 470,000 according to World Wildlife Federation). In Botswana’s Chobe region alone, the elephant concentration is considered to be among the highest in the world at approximately 30,000 elephants.

So it was no surprise that throughout our time in Botswana – from the Chobe River to the Okavango Delta — we saw elephants, and plenty of them. They were a defining feature. Forgive my anthropomorphizing, but elephants seemed the unofficial welcoming and farewell committees everywhere we went, from the opening morning game drives to the late afternoon boat rides. Whether enjoying a morning feed, an afternoon sand bath, or final riverside sunset drink, elephants struck me as remarkable, nimble, and playful.

Visitors like us enjoy watching elephants roam freely. However, local farmers sometimes hold a different view, particularly after an elephant wipes out a field of freshly grown maize that was meant to feed a family for the year. That’s where organizations like Elephants Without Borders (EWB) work with communities to develop “elephant corridors”, paths organized around wildlife habit that enable movement of animals to water sources while minimizing destruction of privately owned farmland. EWB also sponsors programs to educate local families on the principles of wildlife co-habitation.

The idea: simultaneously respect the needs of the community while recognizing the importance of wildlife to the country’s ecosystem and economy.

9. People: laid back, with a sense of humor

“Goodbye, Danny,” Lynn leaned in with a mischievous smile that spread to her eyes. She knew the name she had been playfully calling me for days wasn’t quite what I preferred to be called. But with Lynn, our guide from the all-female guide team at Chobe Game Lodge, it was said with warmth and a dose of good-natured fun. It also reflected the rapport she developed with me in just a few days. Lynn was such an integral part of what made our experience in Chobe so memorable, not only because of the extensive wildlife knowledge she shared with us (her bird identification abilities were outrageous), but because of her desire to connect as we learned from one another.

At all the Desert & Delta Safaris lodges and camps where we we stayed, guides and staff shared the same table with visitors, allowing more time to informally interact outside of scheduled activities. I cannot speak to whether or not all camps in Botswana operate this way, but we appreciated how this approach facilitated connection and a sense of shared humanity between visitors and staff members drawn from across Botswana and its various ethic groups.

Sure, wildlife is the primary draw for most visitors to Botswana. But for us, and for many we spoke to, it was the laid back but attentive nature of the Batswana that made the experience.

10. Botswana: Not Really a Budget Travel Destination

For travel planning purposes, it’s important to note that Botswana is not a budget or inexpensive travel destination. The country features a few budget travel options (e.g., 4×4 self-drive and camping), but clearly positions itself for low-volume, high-end travel. To support the national park system and tourism infrastructure, costs are higher on a per traveler basis.

We’re told this is a result of a deliberate approach to tourism development which aims to minimize the impact on Botswana’s environment and local communities. Based on our experience, this tends to yield something more personalized where, for example, a safari game drive is less likely to feature dozens of land cruisers circling the same pride of lions.

The challenge of the country’s landscape – vast and characterized by the Kalahari Desert – also dictates cost. Sealed roads are few and infrastructure is limited, so many areas are accessible only by bush plane or boat. We witnessed this firsthand in some of the more remote camps (Camp Xakanaxa, Camp Okavango, and Leroo La Tau) we visited, where costly, logistical gymnastics are required to transport guests and stock lodges with fresh food, fuel and other supplies. Additionally, many of the camps are deliberately small (e.g., the ones we visited had just twelve rooms each) so as to provide visitors with an intimate experience with nature, staff and other guests.

Not to mention, these remote locations allow a traveler to shift her brain into neutral, to disconnect and let the mind wander.

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