Squatting in the darkness over an earthen hole at the heart of the Okavango Delta in Botswana, my ears almost twitched from trying to penetrate the silence for unfamiliar sounds. The wilderness setting – full of myth and folklore – fuels the imagination until hungry beasts are seen lurking behind every tree. Orange, flickering light peeps through the bushes from the campfire at our solitary campsite. The sounds of laughter are carried from the camp with the occasional babble of grunts from the nearby hippo pond.
This is what a prowling lion would see, peering through the bracken at the rosy-cheeked smiling faces, senses dulled from wine and stomachs stuffed with meat roasted over the fire. Considering my own situation, with a flashlight clutched in one hand and toilet paper in the other, perhaps I would be the first to go – my Canadian ass beckoning in the moonlight – a tasty butt roast and tender shank for some ravenous beast – an indecent way to die, to be found half eaten by a lion with pants around my ankles, caught in the act in the wilderness of Botswana.
“He even took the gramophone on safari. Three rifles, supplies for a month and Mozart,” says the character, Karen Blixen in Out of Africa. The word safari conjures many a vision – from Robert Redford as Denys Finch Hatton, and Meryl Streep as Karen Blixen, sitting outside their tents in the Kenyan wilderness at a table laid with champagne, Mozart playing on the gramophone – to well, the significantly less romantic vision of yourself squatting over an earthen hole waiting for your butt to get poached by a lion.
A safari is an overland journey, traditionally for a big-game hunt. In more modern times, it’s a bush holiday watching wildlife, associated with adventure, khaki clothing, big guns and animal skins. The word safari entered the English language in the late 19th century and comes from the Swahili language meaning “journey” or “to travel”.
The long history of the safari trip into the wilds of Africa gives “going on safari” pilgrimages status for visitors to the continent, to show you return the obligatory wildlife photos, the modern equivalent to 19th century leopard skins, ivory tusks and toothy heads. Safaris are considered so necessary that it’s difficult to get out of going on at least one, regardless of the hefty price tag. Legends are not cheap.
The question I ask, is: Are safaris over-rated? There is this pressure on the travelers to Africa, because of people’s cinematic expectations from movies such as The Lion King, Out of Africa, and Ghost and the Darkness that if you haven’t seen a lion and a herd of elephants, than you haven’t really “experienced Africa”. In this age of the Discovery and Nature Channel, from your living room, you can see fleas on a leopard’s back running at 50 kilometers per hour, you witness cheetah cubs being born and licked clean by their mothers – you’ve seen it all at home, clearer, closer and more dramatic then in nature. Camera crews live for years on Game Reserves to capture those rare moments – the panoramic shots of “the big five” all drinking next to each other and mating at the same watering hole, of a lioness chewing on the head of an antelope with a million times digital zoom. You see the rivulets of blood, the music emphasizes the moment, and the stern voice tells you exactly what is going on.
We are somehow convinced real life will be better. Then there are the scary, action movies – the blood-thirsty man-eating lions prowling at night in the African villages, a shirtless Val Kilmer and Michael Douglas step out with their big guns and save all the flailing, tribal women. If cinema and TV don’t do it for you, there is always the zoo. It’s a real experience. It’s contained. You can still get the close-ups you’re after or go grab them at the gift shop. Meh, the zoo! Nah, I wanted “the real thing”. Where’s my damn safari hat?
Seven friends: 2 Canadians, 3 Americans, 1 South African and 1 Irishwomen, planned a 10-day trip through Botswana – the Chobe Game Reserve, the Makgadikgadi Pans, the Okavando Delta and the Central Kalahari Game Reserve. With the lack of tourist infrastructure in Botswana, chartering an overland truck and camping gear seemed like the best option. Delta Rain priced a trip including park fees, food, gear, a driver, a guide and a 4X4 overland vehicle for R7500 per person. Our guide is a large, brassy Australian named Natalie, with an accent straight out of “Muriel’s Wedding”; our driver Johnno, a forty-something Brit with sun bleached hair and a snake-skin tan, resembles the spawn of Johnny Rotten and Crocodile Dundee.
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Botsawana Safari Camp
