At the begining of time the Tsodilo hills rose like an island materialsing from the lake. The lake receded but the hills are still an island in the vast thorn treed flatness of Botswana. Sacred to the San for over 10.000 years the rock paintings, sometimes animals sometimes geometrical designs date back 4000 years giving a wonderful sense of the spirituality of the bushmen. As we explored the caves Joe of the jungle became concerned, leopard paw prints, fresh. What would they think of his leotard? Would they think he had killed a neighbour or worse that he was one of them. On the able fashion advice of our guide and protector, Adam, a gay ex-actor-archeology-student, Joe quickly changed into his Wilbur Smith , big white hunter wannabee, pith helmet and khaki shorts. The leotard he left for the leopard in case of a bad hair day.
The Okavanga was beautiful. Avoiding the dugout makoros traditionally poled through the reed channels by local fishermen, and having a reputation for an annual attrition rate for tourists, we opted for a boat trip. The early morning light on the lagoon and the reed channels was beautiful and we saw wonderful birdlife, crocs and a rare siatunga(backside of). Fortunately no rabid hippos. Adam joined us in a flight over the delta. Magical patterns of rivulets and lagoons cutting through the reeds ,herds of elephant and buffalo.
Our camping has become braver, camping in lonely spots with a big fire and the stars for company. Full moon over the Okavango, remote enough for no one to witness us practcing our emergency escape. Joe, replete with pith helmet and stopwatch, supervising jane making the leap from tent to car. Unfortunatly the timing showed the only animal she would escape would be a tortoise with a limp.
Crossing Chobe gamepark from Maun through deep sand rutted roads reminded me of my mum - no high lift jack, no 4WD, no man , 5 kids in the car trying to reverse from a rhino with a large horn! In Savute the toilets are surrounded by a high wall like a fortress. The elephants had destroyed the previous tiolet and prior to that used to help themselves to the camper's shower water by poking their trunk through the window. I was grievously wounded when a squirrel knibbled my toe. Chobe's elephants were really something. On our last day in Bots we took a boat trip up the Chobe river. Pure magic, swimming elephants, hippos huddling and a large crocodile we got so close to you could smell its bad breath.
In the pinks of the dawn we took the ferry across the great Zambezi, leaving the peace of Botswana for the energetic chaos of Zambia - money sellers, insurance touts, roasted mealies, bulging buses - HOME!
