Here are true tales from this Botswana journey.

Chobe Riverfront

Elephant parading down to the riverfront for a morning drink

By the time we made it to Chobe, we were pretty well-versed in our safari routine. Up at sunrise to pack up our home (our trusty rooftop tent), we threw down a cup of instant coffee and brushed our teeth under the trickle of our water bottles. It was then time to hit those dusty roads for the sparkling blue waters of the Chobe riverfront.

The morning game drive was a testament to what we’d already read. The area is home to some of Africa’s best game viewing and the density of wildlife is simply mind-boggling. We could hardly drive ten feet without some outstanding wildlife interaction. With each turn more elephants appeared in the horizon before parading down to the waterfront for an early-morning thirst quencher. The white-faced African Eagle stood guard on the tip-tops of trees and Lappet-Faced Vultures hovered overhead awaiting their turn to pounce. Herds of cantankerous zebras leapt inches from our car while statuesque kudus listened to our every word with their conch-shaped ears. Onto the carpet of green we found warthogs, gazelles, bushbucks and wildebeest with tails a waggin’ as they grazed peacefully aside massive Cape Buffalo. It was the greatest show on earth, the circle of life, all around us.

The captivating eyes of a leopard just feet above our car

And the grand finale? That was the leopard’s alone. Not one but two of the typically elusive leopards made a grand appearance in the final hour of our day at Chobe riverfront. Parking our car on the edge of the lush woodlands, we were about to get a lesson on the birds and the bees – feline-style. A male leopard encircling our car tried to catch the attention of his coy, female counterpart lounging on the sturdy branch of the sausage tree just feet above our car. Her ferocious hiss showed us who was in charge and informed us our birds and bees lesson was on hold, at least for now.

Linyanti

Settling into camp in remote Linyanti

Moving on from the well-trodden safari path of the Chobe riverfront, we headed to the area known as Linyanti. For better and worse, Linyanti is way off the beaten track. Out in the middle of the bush in the secluded northwest section of Chobe, there is no other sign of life here but the elephants and hippos who inhabit the area. These are the kind of places that always attract us, but, in this case, we learned we should have come a bit more prepared.

We arrived early afternoon to Linyanti to find the most pristine, unspoiled campsite in all of Southern Africa. We set up camp to the sound of baboons jumping overhead and warthogs snorting gleefully as they munched on the branches leftover from the elephants’ lunch. It wasn’t till late afternoon, however, when we realized these would be our only companions way out here in the bush. No other travelers had decided to brave the drive out to this remote area of the park so here we found ourselves miles away from any sign of human life.

By night, it was thrilling. We were completely on our own. We built a massive fire and cooked a feast before settling up in our rooftop tent. Wrapped up like sausages in our sleeping bags, we fell asleep to the sound of splashing hippos feet away while gazing up at a sky twinkling with a trillion stars.

The sand roads of Chobe, just begging for us to get stuck

But when we woke up, this was a different story. Twenty minutes into our drive back to civilization, we buried ourselves knee-deep in sand. We were out in the open, bait for the hundreds of animals lurking around with no choice but to dig ourselves out. Ryan spent all morning with shovel in hand while I was stood watch for approaching animals. As I mentally prepared myself for camping out in this area where we were told it might be days before another person might pass by to rescue us, Ryan’s new-found 4WD skills saved the day. We made it out of the sand, but this issue presented another problem. In trying to get ourselves out, we’d eaten up loads of gas and were running well on empty. But lo and behold, the angels of the bush must have been looking out for us. These angels came in the form of a caravan of boisterous and well-prepared South Africans with enough extra diesel to fuel a jetliner.

No phone, no GPS and rarely a sign of human life, we were quite naïve being way out here on our own. In Linyanti, it was clear we’d used up our nine lives.

Savute

It was time for the flat expanse of the park known as Savute. The scorching sun of the desert landscape and dead trees providing a limited amount of shade usually transform this place into a thirst-land for animals scrounging for water. We had high hopes of big game sightings in Savute, but instead what we got was a big storm and a surprise reunion with friends from the road.

The calm before the storm at Savute campsite

We’d met two French families during our journey through Namibia. We bonded quickly after learning they too were on similar year-long around the world trips (theirs with kids!). Because misery loves company, our mutual vehicle woes did even more to solidify the bond. We spent the day with our Frenchie pals rehashing bush tales around camp, only interrupted by elephants traipsing around our tents and the afternoon sun colliding with heavy rains.

Hiding from the rain on the tailgate of our car, we paid homage to our hometown on this Halloween night over cans of the classic Botswana brew, St. Louis Lager. Then it was time for one last rendezvous with our travel pals with burgers and baked beans cooked over a roaring fire.

Catching up at camp with our French travel pals

While this day was nearly devoid of game sightings, sharing this night with our Parisian friends was special in and of itself. Quitting our jobs to travel the world had many of our pals back home wondering if we might have a screw loose. It’s so refreshing on the road meeting people like this…who share the same thirst for adventure, who are looking for more out of life than the that nine to five gig and who are willing to take the risk to find it.

Out here in the middle of the African bush, we watched our new pals share these transformative experiences with their kids. And, well, it makes us pretty certain this isn’t the last time we embark on this sort of journey.

Sunset over Moremi Game Reserve

Under this African sky littered with stars, I’m fighting off mosquitoes while journaling to the flicker of a citronella candle. We’ve just set up camp for the night, pitching our tent on the roof of our car. Two massive t-bone steaks sit beside me on a smoky braai (bbq) while our puny fire attempts to ward off the cacophony of sounds that surround. Hippos snorting, elephants trumpeting and lions roaring intermittently in the distance, it is the raw, rugged Africa we dreamed of. Deep in the African bush of Botswana, we realized we’d made it.

It didn’t take long for us to realize Moremi Game Reserve is a special place and quite unlike any wildlife park in the world. Encompassing 5,000 square kilometers in northern Botswana, it’s part of the inland river delta expanse known as the Okavango Delta. In stark contrast to the thorny forests and desert-like terrain of many of Africa’s great game parks, the Okavango Delta consists of a network of streams and marshland sustaining vast quantities of wildlife. The Moremi Game Reserve, however, is the only part of the Delta officially sectioned off for wildlife preservation, creating a flourishing oasis with the highest density of wildlife in all of Botswana.

Pitching our tent for the night in Moremi Game Reserve, Botswana

Aside from mass quantities of animals here, the exclusivity of the park helps add to its appeal. Accommodation is limited to those willing to fork out up to $1,000 a night for the handful of high-end luxury lodges or those experienced or brave enough to embark on a solo-4WD bush-camping expedition. This means absent in Moremi are those massive tour groups traipsing around the continent and crowds of people looking for their taste of the bush.

Experienced we were not, but armed with a, now reliable (story on this saga coming soon), 4WD vehicle, lots of guts and maybe a naïve sense of confidence, to Moremi we were bound.

There was a lot we couldn’t be prepared enough for. First off were the roads. We’d just wrapped up two weeks of bush adventures in Namibia where there was lots of talk about how nice and smooth the roads were. We didn’t know where the hell this reputation had come from as they were quite possibly the worst and most dangerous roads we’d ever seen. There we’d been the first to arrive to the scene of a fatal accident and had several close encounters ourselves. Once we arrived to Moremi, however, we got it. Roads here hardly exist. Tracks in the reserve are made of clay and sand. And boy is it ever thick. Like a Zamboni machine floating over ice, you’re not really driving, but just steering as you hover over the sand, weaving around windy paths of the forest.

Facing deep water on the roads of Moremi Game Reserve

The deep sand roads are reason enough to require a 4WD vehicle to enter the park, and then there is the water. Driving through the Delta meant we often came across marshland where water stood in our tracks. And it wasn’t just puddles of water we encountered. In some cases it was more like a river – waist-high. We had no choice but to test our wheels in the croc and hippo-infested water while crossing fingers we didn’t get trapped in the clay floor bed.

These were some trying moments, no doubt, but without them it wouldn’t have been the experience it was: the raw, rugged Africa we came for.

Now that I’ve painted a bit of a picture of the challenging conditions of the park, let me tell you about the beauty.

Marshland envelops Moremi Game Reserve

We arrived to our campsite mid-afternoon to begin our three days in the park. We were staying at Third Bridge Campsite, named after the third log bridge you pass from the South Gate entrance. Rustic would be an overstatement for the condition of the bridge over the idyllic Sekiri River, but picturesque would be an understatement for our locale. The campsite consisted of 10 isolated plots of land interspersed in the forest equipped with no more than a small stone slab on which to build a fire. Ours was number 10, way off in the distance in the most isolated section of camp.

The rustic log bridge over idyllic Sekiri River

Upon checking into our campsite, a hard-headed Batswana woman gave us a reality check on our surroundings: always be armed with a strong flashlight, build a big fire and don’t get out of your tent for any reason in the middle of the night. Midnight bathroom breaks are strongly discouraged and in an emergency we were to go together, right next to our vehicle and be on a guard for hyenas and big cats lurking. Confirming we were, in fact, flirting with a bit of danger way out here in the bush, Ryan declared this was the best check-in rundown we’d ever gotten.

Before concluding our check, the woman added, “Oh by the way, there was a kill today just up the road.” Within seconds we were off weaving down the sand roads and over dilapidated bridges to get a glimpse at our first kill and first real taste of Moremi. No more than 15 minutes away from where we were sleeping, we came across a male and female lion feasting on an enormous buffalo. It was just the two of us in the wild with two lions just feet away. We could hear their roaring purr and the crushing sounds of their jaw breaking the buffalo’s bones as well as the heavy, almost exaggerated, panting from the day’s work. Out there on our own with no one else around but the king of the forest with his lady and cub, we could hardly believe our eyes.

Female lion and her cub snack on their latest kill

Male and female lions cuddle up after noshing on a buffalo

This was the first of many spectacular wildlife moments in Moremi Game Reserve. We spent the next three days jaws dropped in complete awe of all that was around us. Morning and afternoon game drives brought us to all corners of the park. We watched giraffes graze on branches of trees where monkeys gathered with their young. In the shallows of rustling reed beds, we witnessed a ballet staring every hoofed mammal on the planet. There were kudus, impalas, gemsbock and springbok galore. Wildebeest, jackals and the ever-comical warthogs were plentiful and even a momma rhino and her baby made a debut. And splashing hippos were sure to make their presence known , with one trampling through our campsite one night amidst his thunderous snorts.

A male kudu proudly shows off his warrior markings

The king of Moremi takes a break from the sun

Ever-comical warthog grazing the grasslands

Hurrying back to camp each night after our sunset drives, we raced to beat the falling sun so we could set up camp in the comfort of the last light of day. One night we didn’t quite make it. But this was for good reason. On our way back to Third Bridge, we experienced, quite possibly, the most beautiful moment of our trip. Driving into the unrivaled African sunset the sky was adorned in a symphony of colors as we drove directly into a herd of 40 elephants.

Elephants fill the horizon against the unrivaled African sunset

At first startled by their mass presence, we started to veer our car elsewhere. We’d been taught to be on guard as the African elephant can be extremely aggressive, in some cases actually chasing down cars and tipping them over to protect their young. But this incident would be different. The approaching herd was nothing short of peaceful, graceful and magnificent, throwing the earth’s red dust into the air amidst the sinking hot sun. Now out on the top of our car, we looked at each other in pure amazement and were reminded again why we travel.

Taking in the breathtaking sunset in Moremi Game Reserve