Day One:
There was this conundrum. It was hellish hot and we were in dugout canoes being poled over deliciously clear, cool water into which even dipping a finger seemed dangerous. Below, undoubtedly, crocs and hippos lurked just waiting their chance to crunch an unwary human in their great, toothy jaws. But I’m running ahead of myself so let me start earlier today.
Maun International Airport was like I remembered back when Dakotas were still doing passenger runs – with almost no formalities. We bought some booze, packed the open Land Cruiser and were soon trundling out of town at a steady 60km/h. Off the tar we were soon weaving through mopane woodland dotted with sleek cows which mooed incessantly for no reason I could figure and goats in tight thug gangs.
Destination: the buffalo-proof fence. It’s to keep cows from buffs or the other way around, this being cattle country and foot and mouth disease invoking serious paranoia. It didn’t look anything proof where we met the polers and their mekoro (dugout canoes). We piled an inordinate amount of gear into the slender boats and were soon slipping silently through diamond-clear water and white water lilies with buttercup-yellow centres.
It was time to assess the party. Apart from the polers and their chief, Julius Mpontshang, there was Athol, Sandy, Dave, Liz, Torben, Lisbeth and Di plus Specialist Guiding Services guides Peter and Frank and a cook whose name I can’t remember but he sure could cook. That amounted to two Scots, two Danes, two South Africans and a Sesotho plus the Botswana team. The three couples were ‘swallows’ with homes on both hemispheres to avoid winters. At both ends they played golf.
Highlight: small, white and orange, speckled painted reed frogs sunning themselves on … yep … reeds. Unfazed enough to sit on my finger.
We made camp on one of the Delta’s 50 000 islands and ate chicken legs, roast potatoes, patty pans and salad plus fried bananas in custard. Oh, and red wine. The hardship of camping….
The Southern Cross rose commandingly overhead and the bush shrieked and clicked with frogsong. When I tried to sleep it sounded like a zillion dripping taps and a non-stop car alarm. Till tomorrow then…
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