Monday, 31 August 2009

The Okavango Delta, Botswana


The Okavango Delta. It is August when the Delta is flooded. We are told we are lucky to see it now, this is the highest the waters ever been since 1961.

To get to our bush camp we take a mokoro. Newer ones are made from fibre glass, mine however is a traditional one, made from a Kegilia Tree, whose numbers are rapidly declining.

The mokoro is low in the water, but my poler, Francis, pushes it along gracefully as he sings a song. We glide gently through the reeds and lilies.

Wildlife can be seen far away on the islands, of which there are many. In the reeds, insects skip about and we spot a reed frog or two.


It takes three hours to reach our camp. By this time the sun is high, too hot even for the polers who take their siesta until our wilderness walk in the late afternoon.

We have two nights here, that is one whole day living in the wilderness, a whole day to take in the remoteness and uniqueness of the location.

But it is not enough, there is always something to observe or admire here, whether it is the stillness of the water or the sounds that echo through the night.

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