To the Okavango and Beyond
Makgadikgadi Salt Pans
We leave early the next morning as we have a long drive. We plan to stop for lunch at Chapman's Baobab. What can be so exciting about a tree? We feel that the best of the holiday is over, but we're wrong.
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The first stretch is on tar road, and then we turn off and head down a bush track. We're now outside the game conservatory, and into a subsistence farming area. The tracks diverge, converge and criss-cross, and I have no idea how Rex finds his way. Sometimes the track is almost impossible to discern.
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After a few hours we round a corner and see zebras. Stretching from horizon to horizon are more and more zebras. We've stumbled on the world's biggest-ever pyjama party - the annual zebra migration to their summer grazing grounds in the south. They're starting to spread out rather than moving as a purposeful group, so maybe they've reached their destination. Family groups - a stallion, some mares and some foals - split off into their own parties and find their grazing spots. Rex estimates that there may be as many as five thousand. Spectacular!
Chapman's Baobab, when we finally reach it, is impressive. A lone baobab of enormous proportions, it appears to be better at growing than breeding. Rex introduces us to ground squirrels. They're cute, furry creatures that stand for ages on their hind legs, dead still so they're easily mistaken for sticks. They do this to check for predators, then they dart forward and find a new lookout position. They use their bushy tails as sun umbrellas, curled forward over their heads.
On the way back to the main road, we again encounter the zebras. Rex notices vultures circling, so we drive off-track to investigate. Sadly it's the remains of a baby zebra. The vultures are gruesome but fascinating. Hundreds of them squabbling, darting and snatching. I once did a bit of paragliding, and I'm interested to see their landing tactics are identical to ours. Circle, losing height. Judge the distance, turn into wind, flare the wing to slow down for the last couple of metres, drop the legs and run.
Marabou Storks - huge, ungainly creatures, wait outside the circle in a dignified manner in case the vultures leave anything.
It's almost evening when we reach the Makgadikgadi Pans. Because there's been a lot of rain, we can't go too far out into the pans or we'll get stuck. We drive to a place where pans perhaps half a kilometre wide by several kilometres long are interspersed with 'islands' of rough grass. We make our camp near the edge of a pan, which is nearly as flat as the surface of a mirror. A fresh, salt-laden wind is blowing, and the sense of space and nothingness does something for me. I feel as though my spirit's been released in joyous freedom, and I want to run, dance, fly. Lene and I run out to the centre, turning our faces to the wind and holding our arms wide. Lene had heard that the pans are so flat you can see the curve of the earth, and it's true: you can. The horizon is a perfect circle, and the ground curves away to meet it.
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Afterwards we sit around watching the sunset and enjoying the utter peace and isolation. We sleep outside the tents to enjoy the bright stars and the fresh breeze. I want to stay awake so as not to miss any of it, but my eyelids droop, and when they open, the soft light of dawn is creeping across the sky. I lie watching the line of light gradually warm to radiant colour, and the bright red sun triumphantly clearing the horizon. I turn my head at a muffled sound of many feet. A herd of cattle march across the pan in single file, silhouetted in muted colours against the rising sun. They spread out to graze on a grassy island.
Today is the end of the trip. All that's left is the long drive back to Victoria Falls on excellent tar roads. Still, there are a few beautiful moments left to enjoy. A lone elephant grazing beside the road. A buffalo peering from the bush. A jackal, looking to left and right before crossing the road, as if he'd been attending road safety classes. A picnic tea in a clearing scattered with tiny, perfect wild flowers. The laughter and companionship of six people who've come to like each other a lot. And finally, the enjoyment of watching Lene and Erik's introduction to the Victoria Falls, truly one of the wonders of the natural world.
I leave you with my memories of seven wonderful days, of a trip aptly named Best of Botswana. My thanks to all who made it the best, and to the reader for following me on my journey.