8- 17 September
Chobe Safari LodgeBack in Kasane, we headed to the side of town closest to the Chobe Riverfront. As we had hoped, we managed to squeeze into a campsite in the grounds of the swanky Chobe Safari Lodge; a riverside lodge recommended by Susanne and Philippe who had stayed with their Namibian friends. The lodge also ran an afternoon, game viewing, river cruise heartily recommended by Philippe.
Chobe River Cruise
We managed to book ourselves the last two places for that afternoon’s cruise and after a two minute lunch (grab-it-and-run!) joined a large group of Germans on board the decidedly better of the two cruise boats. As we set off it became clear that there were only Germans on board and then that this was a German tour company’s cruise boat! Ah, the Dunkerque spirit, Omaha Beach and Bastogne! Whispering to each other in English and nodding and smiling at completely the wrong points in the tour guide’s preamble, we decided to play the ‘dumb Brit abroad’ card and carry on regardless.
It all worked a treat; the tour guide was a young man from Cape Town and very welcoming when he discovered his two stow-aways; making use of Peter’s binos (German of course!) and pointing out riverside game in German and then in English.
Chobe Safari LodgeBack in Kasane, we headed to the side of town closest to the Chobe Riverfront. As we had hoped, we managed to squeeze into a campsite in the grounds of the swanky Chobe Safari Lodge; a riverside lodge recommended by Susanne and Philippe who had stayed with their Namibian friends. The lodge also ran an afternoon, game viewing, river cruise heartily recommended by Philippe.
Chobe River Cruise
We managed to book ourselves the last two places for that afternoon’s cruise and after a two minute lunch (grab-it-and-run!) joined a large group of Germans on board the decidedly better of the two cruise boats. As we set off it became clear that there were only Germans on board and then that this was a German tour company’s cruise boat! Ah, the Dunkerque spirit, Omaha Beach and Bastogne! Whispering to each other in English and nodding and smiling at completely the wrong points in the tour guide’s preamble, we decided to play the ‘dumb Brit abroad’ card and carry on regardless.
It all worked a treat; the tour guide was a young man from Cape Town and very welcoming when he discovered his two stow-aways; making use of Peter’s binos (German of course!) and pointing out riverside game in German and then in English.
Chobe River The Chobe River, about 50 to 60 feet wide, meandered slowly through the wide floodplain amongst low, flat islets of lush green grass and floating riverside mattresses of papyrus. We moved slowly from one wildlife hot-spot to the next.
Left: Bull elephant doing the leg swinging trance dance, Chobe RiverRight: Buffalo ignoring attendant egrets,Chobe River
Contemplating the scenery.Chobe River We certainly were not the only boat on the river and often used our size to out-muscle others, getting close up to all sorts of birds and animals that seemed unperturbed by the boat’s proximity. (Photo: CMK 7 & 8)
Left: Two lonely hippos on the banks of the Chobe River?Right: No, two crowded hippos on the banks of the River Chobe!
The lack of a big zoom lens and the problem with focusing the small zoom that had been with us since Mauritania, frustrating though they were, did not diminish our enjoyment of a superb outing. We returned to the Lodge as the sun was setting; thanking our German hosts, we left them heading for the bar and restaurant and made our way back to the campsite.
We retired early, but our attempts to get a good night’s sleep were constantly frustrated by the hellish orchestration of resonating snores from nearby campers and the chatter of night watchmen. Oh lors!
Chobe Riverfront
The next morning, 9 September, we visited a nearby internet cafe, failing miserably to ‘send’ an email of birthday wishes to Becca. Sorry! After visiting an ATM, the Spar store and filling both tanks with fuel, we drove to the entrance to Chobe NP. Lucky, lucky us; there was space at the remote and virtually unfenced, basic campsite on the Chobe Riverfront, Ihaha. Two hot hours later and we were sitting by Boris, between two shrubby trees, having lunch at Ihaha. Pleased as punch, we looked out across a flat grassy area, with antelope feeding, onto the course of the Chobe River not more than 400 yards away. As we were about to clear up, a herd of elephant sauntered around the corner and silently, extraordinarily silently for animals of that size, came past the table so close Liz could almost touch them! Why, oh why, had we left the camera in Boris? What a missed opportunity!
Game Drives
Cheeky vervet monkey and breakfast visitor,Ihaha campsite Chobe River 
Warthog encounter, Ahaha campsite Chobe River We stayed for three nights and, when not keeping an eye on thieving vervet monkeys or inquisitive warthogs, relaxed in the sun between going on early morning and late afternoon game drives in Boris. The Chobe Riverfront was about 35 miles long, but by far the most prolific area for game was that between Kasane and the half way point, Ihaha Campsite.
Matriach leading the river crossing,Chobe River
Young bull elephants testing each other out,Chobe River Tracks, a series of loops from a main track running through bone dry mopane scrub, ran along what was the southern bank of the floodplain and often six to eight feet above it, gave a good view of the game on the plain and in the river. Elephant were there in huge numbers, so too buffalo; we failed to see any of the large lion prides attracted by the game, only the odd male and a couple of lionesses. But we often saw scrums of hunch backed vultures feeding and fighting over the remains of the previous night’s kill, whilst the morbid black silhouettes of others adorned nearby trees, waiting their turn.
Evening,lion sniffs the breeze 
Vultures waiting...
Night Noises
After nightfall we became all too conscious of the lack of a secure fence and the presence of lion and hyena (a great nocturnal hunter); in an effort not to become a night time snack, a strict no drinking after sunset policy ensured that there were NO late night visits to the loo! We lay in the tent soaking up the night sounds; the roar of nearby lion was special, but so was the haunting noise of the excited chatter and eerie ’whoooo-oop’ of the Hyena, initially some miles distant then coming quickly closer, passing within feet of the tent as they hunted down their prey or zeroed in on a pride’s kill; that for us was the sound of the Riverfront at night.
On our last night we were awakened by the sound of splashing coming from the river, it seemed to come from all around us and went on for the best part of an hour, giving way to the sound of munching interspersed with gentle snorting and grunting that was just everywhere. Intrigued we got up at the grey of daybreak to find in front of us a vast herd of what must have been a thousand buffalo, black lumps merging on the nearby floodplain as far as the eye could see. It was like the bison scene from ‘Dances with Wolves’; feeding as they moved away, they then drifted inland to find shelter for the day.
To SavutiWe left Ihaha on 11 September, following the Chobe River away from Kasane; leaving the river we turned south and headed to our next campsite in Chobe National Park at Savuti. As expected we were soon in deep, deep soft sand; the notorious and badly cut up piste passing over ..or through!.. massive rolling dunes covered with scrub savannah. Despite lowering the tyre pressure to Saharan levels it was hard work.
After nightfall we became all too conscious of the lack of a secure fence and the presence of lion and hyena (a great nocturnal hunter); in an effort not to become a night time snack, a strict no drinking after sunset policy ensured that there were NO late night visits to the loo! We lay in the tent soaking up the night sounds; the roar of nearby lion was special, but so was the haunting noise of the excited chatter and eerie ’whoooo-oop’ of the Hyena, initially some miles distant then coming quickly closer, passing within feet of the tent as they hunted down their prey or zeroed in on a pride’s kill; that for us was the sound of the Riverfront at night.
On our last night we were awakened by the sound of splashing coming from the river, it seemed to come from all around us and went on for the best part of an hour, giving way to the sound of munching interspersed with gentle snorting and grunting that was just everywhere. Intrigued we got up at the grey of daybreak to find in front of us a vast herd of what must have been a thousand buffalo, black lumps merging on the nearby floodplain as far as the eye could see. It was like the bison scene from ‘Dances with Wolves’; feeding as they moved away, they then drifted inland to find shelter for the day.
To SavutiWe left Ihaha on 11 September, following the Chobe River away from Kasane; leaving the river we turned south and headed to our next campsite in Chobe National Park at Savuti. As expected we were soon in deep, deep soft sand; the notorious and badly cut up piste passing over ..or through!.. massive rolling dunes covered with scrub savannah. Despite lowering the tyre pressure to Saharan levels it was hard work.
Stuck in the sand, enroute Savuti Lunch gave Boris a short reprieve and 30 minutes later we were helping a Landrover and trailer, the latter acting as a sheet anchor in the sand, stuck fast in the track ahead. The two men, safari tour operators, were in trouble with no shovels and little idea about what to do, apart from argue with each other! Following our expert advice ... what a difference 8 months of overlanding makes!.. and some sweaty digging, they were free and heading back up the track we had just come down. We hope they made it!
Savuti
The unrelenting deep sand stayed with us all the way to Savuti. On the outskirts of this small collection of huts and game lodges we passed an artificial waterhole with elephant ..not more elephant!.. enjoying a late afternoon cool down and drink, surrounded by a motley collection of 4x4’s and game drive vehicles. Where the Kalahari appleleaf trees stood in full blossom, covered in the most delicate shades of purple, the Savuti campsite was stunningly beautiful. The ablution block was a mini version of Fort Knox! To keep thirsty elephants at bay, they had completely trashed the previous version, the block was surrounded by a high berm of soil upon which stood a low wall and the metal entrance gates were just wide enough to allow a fat tourist through, but not thin thirsty elephant.
Savuti sits on the banks of an offshoot of Okavango Delta, the Savuti Channel, which flowed through a parched landscape into a large, 60 square miles of it, depression creating the Savuti Marsh. In such a dry area, this supply of water and wetlands attracted huge quantities of game. Unfortunately the channel dried up in the early 1980’s, as it has done periodically throughout its history, for reasons known only to itself and geology, leaving the marsh to become a large pan once again. The Savuti area, largely shorn of its permanent game population, despite several artificial waterholes, was not anything more than a stopover for us on our way to the Moremi area, 50 miles further south in the Okavango Delta.
Savuti Marsh
Ever the optimists we left at the crack of dawn, so allowing us to include a game drive through the Savuti Marsh, where a myriad of confusing sandy tracks made the GPS an absolute godsend. Identifying where the game might be and then the act of spotting the isolated and infrequent animals, mainly lone bull elephants and wildebeest, somehow gave great satisfaction and a sense of achievement at the successful use of our ‘hunting’ skills.
Blue wilderbeest, Savuti The marsh, a huge area of grass savannah containing islands of shrub vegetation, was being eroded at its edges by the natural advance of acacia and thus the return to scrub savannah. Here and there, in the midst of the open savannah, stood the dead, gaunt relics of trees, grey fingers pointing heavenwards in supplication, killed during the last inundation some 50 years ago.
Khwai River Valley
Our time up, we began the long sandy approach to the Moremi Game Reserve; travelling painfully slowly through mile upon mile of parched landscape covered in waving yellow grasses and stands of stunted mopane, the only tree able to survive the conditions and its leaves a highly nutritious food source. By lunch time we were close to the extreme edge of the Delta and the vegetation began to reflect the greater periodic abundance of water, dense green leaved thickets and tall old growth trees. We were approaching the Khwai River valley, a flat and ever narrowing verdant green finger that ran east from the Delta before vanishing into the sands we had been driving over.
Looking for a picnic site we were fortunate to spot on the branch of a large umbrella thorn tree the most enormous owl, a Verreaux’s Giant Eagle Owl.
The size of a little person.. let’s say around about two and a bit years old, eh Maya!.. it too was having a picnic; hacking away with its beak at a small mongoose and with its head tilted back then swallowing lumps of animal with a rather uncomfortable looking gulping motion. We joined the owl for lunch, but declined his kind offer of a piece of mongoose that fell to the ground!
A Back to Front River
Reaching the Khwai River ... no bridge and no Colonel Bogey!... the first thing we noticed was that the river was flowing backwards! Despite the dry season, the water level of the Delta was rising, a delayed reaction to the millions of gallons of Angolan wet season rainwater carried by the same river that flowed past us at Ngepi Camp. As the level rose, so the waters of the Delta pushed outwards down seasonal river channels that, as they lost water to the land around them, became progressively smaller before losing the unequal battle with the ever thirsty sand and disappeared from sight. Geddit?
A Magical Mystery Detour
By chance, or the brilliance of the navigator, we avoided the main track leading to the entry gate into Moremi Game Reserve, still 20 miles away, and spent the most rewarding ,David Attenborough afternoon driving at a snail’s pace along a sometimes flooded riverside track, through a magical and beautiful green corridor of animal activity. We came across all sorts of birds, buck and antelope, pods of hippo and herds of buffalo and elephant.
Midday snooze, hippo pod Khwai River The latter repeating the wholesale destruction of parts of the riverine mopane forest that we had seen on the Chobe Riverfront. Habitat destruction wrought by hungry elephant on the scale we had seen would likely take years to recover and must be a result of manmade constraints on seasonal migratory patterns, resulting in too many elephant in too small an area year round.
Midday cooling bath 
Habitat destruction by elephants When we arrived at North Gate, the entrance to Moremi and with a ... wait for it!... bridge over the River Khwai, we were caught out by our ‘arrive and see’ policy; the nearby campsite in the Reserve was full. So we were refused entry to the Reserve that evening and told to come back the following day. Shucks!
Night Time Visitors
We retraced our route for a mile or two and found a pleasant bush camp site under a large tree and close to the river. It was beginning to get dark as we finished supper and Peter was like a cat on a hot tin roof; looking over his shoulder, standing up and staring into the nearby bushes, steadily becoming quite paranoid about us being eaten by lions. Liz, an old Africa hand, knew that lions always had their G&T’s from 7.00 to 8.00 PM and so pooh-poohed his concern!
But we did have a visitor that night; Liz, woken by the sound of snapping twigs and tearing leaves, looked out of her tent window to see the massive, moonlit head of the hugest bull elephant ever, only inches away right by the tent. Quite sure it would have us over and trampled on in seconds, Liz froze and didn’t dare to utter a sound and risk alarming the feeding elephant by waking Peter, who slept on in blissful ignorance.
Moremi Game ReserveWe returned to North Gate the following morning, 13 September, crossed the pole bridge, a 30 ‘ long line of wooden poles, many looking dangerously thin, secured crossways to the bed of the river and at one point sinking under its surface as we passed over.
Crossing the pole bridge over the Khwai River Our ability to explore fully the Moremi Game Reserve was going to be severely compromised by having to stay on dry land on the only tracks in the delta and so remain within the small area of the Reserve above water. We spent two days in the Reserve; our ability to explore compromised by the need to stay on dry land and the rising water levels which flooded some tracks, curtailing our game drives and giving Liz palpitations when we forded some sections.
Fording flooded track, Khwai River valley Peter, expecting great things, was very disappointed with the small amount of game we saw; Liz however was completely taken with the beauty of the Reserve. The ancient woodlands, through which dappled sunlight sparkled in a diamond cascade on patches of rising water; lagoons, their waters a shimmering sky blue blanket upon which nature had sown swathes of flowering lilies; and the delta, stretching out to the far horizon covered with swaying serried ranks of dark green papyrus.
With mixed feelings we left the Reserve and returned to the Khwai River valley, almost immediately we spotted game. This was not surprising as the river is both the border of the Moremi Game Reserve and, in the dry season, for game to the north and east, the closest, readily available and reliable source of food and water.
An Illegal Camp
Our progress was slow and once again we decided to bush camp, this time just yards from the river. We were in the tent as night fell, with the front flap raised so we could see the area of the river flowing past us. We were not disappointed; soon dark silhouettes of elephants passed noiselessly before us, then there began most peculiar and repetitive noises, a ‘chomp, chomp, chomp, chomp’ followed by a squelching noise before the chomps started all over again. It grew closer and then, around the bend in the river to our right, came two large hippos making a meal of the lush tall grass that was growing in the narrow flooded water meadows alongside the river. Their advance was almost mechanical and very methodical; head moving from left to right, they cleared the area in front of them, before advancing a few steps to repeat the process all over again. Slowly, they passed in front of us and disappeared out of sight still following the river and still chomping like there was no tomorrow.
What next we wondered. Well, ‘what next’, was the arrival of a vehicle and two men who, very politely, explained we were camping illegally! We should have sought permission at North Gate and paid a camping fee; it also transpired that we probably would not have been allowed to camp where we now were. However, as moving us was too much hassle, we paid the fee and their lights disappeared into the night.
Boundary Recognition
The night had echoed to the calls of hyena, supplemented by the roar of lions. The next morning, after an early breakfast in the sun, we moved off in Boris and had only gone a few yards before we stopped, gasping in amazement. There on the opposite bank of the narrow river was a pride of lions relaxing in the morning sun, after a good night out and only 50 yards or so from where we had been so casually having breakfast. Thank heavens they had read the Bradt Guide and knew where the Moremi boundary was, we could have been their eggs and bacon!
Spreading Flood Waters
Leaving the river behind us, we headed cross country towards the start of the road to Maun. However, we were constantly being thwarted, seemingly at every turn, by a flooded track ahead. Detours had already been cut through the scrub; on what was to prove to be our last, we came across a team of surveyors plotting the course of a proposed extension to the Maun road.
Slow and gentle inundation,upper Khwai River 
Early morning drink,upper Khwai River They confirmed what we suspected; the increasing spread of the flooding was an annual and continuing phenomenon, a possible portent of things to come. A snapshot of nature’s timeless and unending cycle of change; the ancient pan we were travelling through might be returning once again to marshland.
Ghanzi
In Maun we quickly restocked our food supplies and set off towards the Namibian border and a visit to Hanne and Axel in Swakopmund. By late afternoon we had joined the iconic Trans-Kalahari Highway and were approaching the town of Ghanzi. Here we called a halt and, for a bit of TLC, checked into the Kalahari Arms Hotel. The swimming pool, followed by a long hot shower got rid of the worst of the ingrained dirt. What a lovely feeling it was to be tingling clean and wearing a fresh set of clothes.
The morning of 16 September ..Happy Birthday Jeni!.. our departure from Ghanzi was delayed by a visit to the Bushman Craft Centre close to the hotel. It was a treasure trove of exquisite objects handmade by San women living in the vicinity of Ghanzi.
Cottage industry, rear of craft shop,Ghanz
Threading ostrich eggshell pieces, rear of craft shop Ghanzi The San came into town every Tuesday (serendipity .. it was Tuesday!) some bringing items with them, others sitting around the Centre preparing the fragments of ostrich eggshell they would then thread together to create necklaces, bracelets, belts and so on.
The women sold these ornaments to the Centre, which in turn sold them to tourists both at the Centre and other outlets in Botswana; the profit made was ploughed back into the San community by buying more ornaments and by funding much needed community projects. We were happy to spend, spend, spend!
To The Border
Leaving a much depleted craft centre shop behind and our purchases safely stowed in various nooks and crannies in Boris, we rejoined the Trans Kalahari Highway. Yet another long, straight black line of tar led to the horizon; beyond, the border with Namibia and ahead of us, a two day journey to the coastal resort of Swakopmund.
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