Diary entries from Finding Emo in Botswana

12 JULY 2010 - Maun

Botswana, how I love thee. Or to be more specific - Maun, how I love thee. This might seem an unexpected sentiment for a place commonly referred to as donkey town. To be honest, there really are a lot of donkeys here. But Maun rocks anyway.

We exited Namibia from the Caprivi strip, following the Okavango River on its path into Botswanan territory. Almost immediately we took the free Mohembo river ferry across the river onto the rougher east bank, which we followed south and east to the town of Seronga, on the Okavango Panhandle. If the Okavango Delta resembles a dustpan, Seronga would be halfway along the handle.

The next day, we hire a poler, Justin, and set out into the headwaters of the Delta by mokoro, a traditional dugout canoe.

There is something about travelling by mokoro. The water gurgles gently as you ease through the water. Hippos grunt and snort from the reed beds. Somewhere below there are crocodiles. The grasses are the bold green you see only in children’s colouring books. The prow of the canoe parts rushes and papyrus and glides over water lilies. Birds flee as we get near. We see a herd of 9 female elephants, and 2 solitary bulls. A fish eagle circles high above. Justin points out a green river snake, almost perfectly camouflaged amongst the reeds. The sun lulls you towards sleep as you lie back on your cushions, but there is too much to look at to doze off. Yes, mokoro trips are pretty damn good.

We camped on an island in the Delta, and sleep the disturbed sleep of those who can hear hippo tramping past the tent all night.

From the watery wonderland of the upper Delta we head back into the desert to Tsodilo Hills - “the Louvre of African rock art”. It is one of the most important sacred sites for the San, and perhaps the most important repository of rock paintings on the continent. It has potential to wow visitors, but I will forever remember it for the unique guiding experience.
I don’t normally hire guides. I make an exception at places like Tsodilo Hills, where guides can add to your understanding and appreciation of the site. I think we may have caught our guide, however, on her first day on the job. She knew nothing about the site.

“This painting - donkey - painted 300,000 years ago.” Funny, the plaques in the info centre say the oldest legible paintings are 3,000 years old. They also say that domestic animals, such as the donkey, were introduced into the area in the last 1,500 years. “This trail is called Rhino Trail” - posited while standing next to a large and unmissable sign cryptically marked “Rhino Trail”. And my personal favourite - “That is the campsite” - while pointing at some South Africans who were camped at, funnily enough, a campsite. And that was about it in terms of contributions to our experience of Tsodilo Hills. The solemnity that usually attaches to visiting such a culturally sensitive site went out the window as we realised that this tour was pure comedy. I hope we did not pay VAT on the guide fees.

And so to Maun... Donkey town. Okavango tourist-central . A drinking town with a safari problem. A place where locals will look you in the eye and ask “If it’s tourist season, why can’t we shoot them?”. We love this place because of the characters that live in it. From days and nights chewing the fat with overland truck drivers, former pharmacists-turned-hoteliers, safari guides, bush pilots and the dudes out filming the next BBC Wildlife series, through to an entire day spent playing poker with a foul-mouthed bar owner and an alcoholic thatch farmer, we have had a ball. Somehow, we have been welcomed into a layer of this town most tourists don’t get to see. Thank-you Marie, Derek, Fano, Neil, Rich, Weasel, Phil, Johno and all the others, for making our time in Maun so memorable! We’re sorry we fleeced you at poker.

SC

19 JULY 2010 - Digging mud in Moremi

From Maun we headed down to the unpronounceable Makgakadigkadi-something Pans which were, unsurprisingly, big flat white and quite nice. I'm not sure if the snake I almost stepped on at the enormous Chapman's Baobab was dangerous or not, but I almost died of fright anyway.

We had a very expensive pre-paid campsite booking in a nearby national park, where the Boteti River was flowing for the first time in decades. We knew this. So we still cannot explain why we decided to make for the west entry into the park, which requires that you cross the now-impassable Boteti River. Park entry fail, and we could not make it to the other gate before sunset.

Then we almost ran out of fuel. Great success! We retreated to Maun for beer and skittles.

I had been hanging out to get to Moremi Game Reserve for about 12 months. It's a big tongue of dry land that juts out into the Okavango Deltra. Again, the Delta was fuller than it had been for about 20 years, so Moremi was packed with animals - I'm sure they must have been in there somewhere - they were just very dispersed due to the abundance of water.

Moremi was brilliant anyway. A beautiful place. 2 elephants got a little agitated and trumpeted at us from a few metres away - a bigger kicker than skydiving. We crossed rivers with water up to the windscreen wipers (and our car is big). Had a hilarious night with some great people in Third Bridge campsite, creeping up to elephants in the dark and watching the baboons steal everything.

Leaving Moremi was difficult. Literally, really difficult. We were only trying to get a few kilometres out of the watered-in north gate. It seemed like water cut off every route. We explored dozens of tracks. We did about 6 river crossings in tandem with some drunk South Africans in a Landcruiser. We got lost some more. We got surrounded on all sides, with nowhere to run, by a matriarchal herd of elephants who got very close. Finally, with all dry routes through a particular stretch exhausted, we picked a route through the least marshy-looking option and decided to go for it. It looked passable, in fact it looked beautiful. A smart man would have observed that fresh tracks only led into the bog; they didn't come out the other side. You know how this ends.

With no space for a run up and a 3-tonne Cruiser, we made it 4 metres into the swamp before we were stuck. We're men, and men don't look backwards, so we have the winch mounted on the bullbar. Stuck up to the axles in slop with a forward facing winch, it took us 2.5 hours, a shovel, malfunctioning hi lift jack, bridging ladders and a fair amount of elbow grease to move those measly 4 metres back to dry land. Victory.

Eventually we found our way to the campsite - 6 hours to do 13 km - only to find that a guy who had attempted to give us directions in the morning (which we ignored) did it in 45 minutes. Our route was much more fun though. SC

21 JULY 2010 - All things rare

We round the corner. There it is. A chance sighting of a leopard. Not just one leopard, but two. It’s a mother with its cub on the path 5 metres ahead of us. We have them to ourselves for 10 minutes before a guide and his group arrive. He tells us that in his 8 years of guiding he has never seen a leopard mother with its cub on the ground. Within minutes its been radioed in and people are circling, looking for our leopard.

We are in the Savuti region of Chobe National Park and it is serving up a stack of animals. The elephant and giraffe count has become gruelling. Thankfully we’re not counting antelope. The next morning we get up at sunrise and head out for a morning game drive. Reward for such a mammoth effort comes quickly. Wild dogs. An endangered species that, to state the obvious, makes sightings difficult. As we look out across the plain, a fight breaks out as the dogs approach a recent kill watched over by hyenas. A mad scramble and splashing water results in a dog running our way, right past the car, with a chunk of meat in his mouth. Savuti, we love you. Then there was the lion whose path we successfully anticipated; he just about brushed the headlights as he sauntered across our bow.

Our final stop in Botswana is Kasane, a small town perched on the junction of Botswana, Namibia, Zambia, and Zimbabwe. Our friend MJ, whom we met in Moremi, is in town and welcomes us to her house. Emerging from the bush as the filthy creatures that we are, we look forward to a decent shower and a bed - anything else is a plus. We walk in to the newly completed house and are blown away. Total luxury complete with marble floors, open plan living, and an enormous deck. First stop is the shower, I feel like my current state of filth is polluting this amazing house. Completing the trifecta of rare sightings is Jordan’s steak for dinner, but that’s a whole other story!

See you Botswana. Thanks for having us!

MR