It was a surreal experience. I sat in the bush eating dinner while perhaps two metres behind me, a hippo quietly nibbled away on the thick grass. Such is the kind of thing that happens should you be fortunate enough to visit one of Africa's most remote pristine game reserves, Selinda, part of the Great Plains conservancies.
We'd flown into Selinda Camp via Air Botswana from Johannesburg, then on a small charter plane. But it was Air Botswana that sparkled from the moment we set foot on the aircraft. "Welcome," said the smiling air steward and so warm was he that I wanted to give him a hug.
You know, these days, there's not much to choose between airlines other than service, and smallish Air Botswana could show its larger colleagues a thing or two.
A smile doesn't just go a long way, it makes you feel good and, in the "feel good" stakes, this airline is right at the top of the list.
On arrival in Maun, we'd boarded a charter plane seating five (the pilot included) and what a privilege it was to fly low enough to see kilometres and kilometres of bloody Africa unfolding beneath our eyes.
I'd never seen Botswana so wet, and as we headed up north to Selinda Camp, the edge of the lush Okavango Delta encroached eastwards.
Below we spotted herds of zebra and elephant. The two Americans travelling with us were overwhelmed by the greenness. To tell the truth, so were we.
For years, we'd visited Botswana in our trusty 4x4 and knew it backwards from the Kalahari to Moremi, Savuti to Chobe and Linyanti. That said, we'd not heard of Selinda before.
Only too soon, the pilot circled to make sure there were no elephants or warthogs within distance. Then we'd landed and within minutes transferred to a small craft. We'd be reaching Selinda Camp by river, said the captain of our small craft.
Through a reed and papyrus channel we slid, carefully skirting hippo when, around a corner, we stopped as there, on the bank, stood a reed buck in all its glory. So elusive are these antelope, that it's rare to see them so. Silently we enjoyed him as he in turn eyeballed us, then casually disappeared into the reeds.
At a jetty, three women - Shirley Bolatlheng, Rose Kachana and the lovely Agnes whose surname I misplaced -waved a warm Selinda welcome. We made our way to a thatched and wood building where the staircase's railing was made from a tree complete with curves and knobs. So natural was everything that it was part of the surrounds. Camp manager Ishmael Mogamiso's greeting made us immediately feel at home.
Rain, mangosteen and sausage trees shaded the small camp and we were gently handed a dampened cold cloth to refresh our hands and faces. The Botswana sun shone hot but, at Selinda Camp, we were coolly sheltered. And no, there was no intrusive airconditioning. No electricity or phone in fact. Just a natural breeze.
Just then, I glimpsed a lechwe within spitting distance. Then another and another. A hippo grunted and he emerged from the water onto the bank.
Across the waters, I spotted elephant. "Paradise," I murmured to my husband who hadn't stopped smiling that morning.
"Have a rest," suggested Ishmael, "and join us in the lounge for tea at 3.30pm."
The "lounge" was an extended deck with comfortable cushions and an unsurpassable view of the plains.
We duly showered and rested and had just arrived in the lounge and I was eyeing a freshly-baked carrot cake when a tall, handsome man flung his arms around me and lifted me into the air.
"Carol!" he said. "Hello Carol!" Good heavens, it was Steve Kgwatalala, the finest game ranger in Botswana, if not in the world. And, I exaggerate not.
There's only one other in his league, Norman Galli, and sadly today he lives in Australia.
Six years before, I'd been privileged to visit nearby Lebalo and be driven around by Steve. Not only had he an encyclopedic knowledge of the bush, he could tell stories of animals, birds and small creatures, he could track a leopard, lion, cheetah or any animal for kilometres and from tracks knew what snake had passed, what time it had lazed in the sun and where it had gone.
I remember how he'd explained the eco-system of an elephant dropping and the flight patterns of birds. Steve, it transpired, was now a game ranger at Selinda Camp and would be our guide for the next few days. Heaven. Now it was my turn to keep on smiling.
"Do you remember," he said, "when you were here last, my wife was about to have a baby." I nodded. "Of course."
"We had a daughter and I called her Carol after you," he said. He showed me pictures of a beautiful, bright-eyed child. Okay, she didn't look like me but "she has my smile", I joked to Steve.
"She has your curiosity too," he said. I felt so very honoured.
A pied kingfisher hovered in front of us, just off the deck.
"You look well," I remarked.
"Yes, Carol, but it's been a sad year. My first-born, Thusang, passed. This epilepsy thing. I still do not understand it."
"Steve," I replied, "my youngest son, Jamie, passed. This epilepsy thing. He died of Sudep."
"Sudep, yes, that's what the doctor said. What is it?" asked Steve.
"It stands for Sudden Unexpected Death in Epilepsy and is still not fully understood," I explained to Steve. Quietly, we sat and spoke of our loved children.
"I feel her around, always," said Steve. I understood.
That afternoon, on a game drive, the Selinda plains verdant and dotted with mlala palms, we spotted a tiny elephant with its mother. "Two or three days old," said Steve. "See how it easily fits beneath its mother's stomach. And look at the fluff on the skin."
Then, around a bend we drove and, upon a bank, were four hippo out of the water mingling with a small herd of elephants.
We were fortunate. There was just one other visitor sharing our vehicle, Steve Snow, a field biologist from San Francisco. Between the two Steves, we turned up stones to check out insects, we investigated spiders' webs, we discussed animal behaviour and my husband and I felt we were privy to rare expertise.
Our drive was also filled with graceful giraffe, pronking impala and kudu, so close to the vehicle that they might have climbed inside.
That night, under the stars, we enjoyed a five-star meal and listened the sound of jackal yipping and hyena calling.
We retired to our understated out-of-Africa tent complete with a mosquito net and a large wooden deck. Such luxury in the bush is seductive. "I don't ever want to leave," I whispered to my husband as we sat upon the stoep listening to the night sounds. Night sounds? Goodness, there was a loud fart right beside the tent and I knew it wasn't my husband. He shone a torch and there, happily chomping away, was a hippo, probably the same one who'd joined us for dinner. He was indeed a somewhat flatulent hippo, as we observed.
Next morning, beside our tent, I discovered a fresh elephant dropping. I cannot tell you the bliss of observing a steaming dropping as I knew the elephant must be nearby. I looked around but the only four-legged creatures were the deep-red lechwe.
Days begin early at Selinda Camp. We'd be woken by Steve at 5.30am, shower in the luxuriously appointed bush bathroom, wander along to the main lounge-cum-diningroom-cum-viewing structure, enjoy a light breakfast than set off on a game drive. On our return, we'd enjoy a brunch. And what a brunch it was.
I learnt from Ishmael that fresh ingredients were flown in (with guests) and kept in a huge walk-in freezer rooms. Pastries, cakes and breads were baked daily and what, for me, was remarkable was that menus of such variety and creativity could be concocted in a simple bush kitchen.
Selinda Camp, by the way, is fully on the way to being green and self-sustaining. Solar panels heated our water and provided lights. During the following three days, we waited for the animals to come to us. "Animals must talk to you," said Steve. "They must find you." And find us they did. An African wild cat tiptoed beside the vehicle, a lilac-breasted roller rolled, the first time I'd seen a bird actually doing what its name implies.
There were wild dogs around and, the night before, they'd killed a kudu. Steve followed their tracks, but we didn't see them. No matter, we saw virtually everything else. Jackal and hyena, a leopard tortoise and every variety of mongoose.
Large roan peered through the bushes and troops of baboon cavorted around us - one particularly cheeky chap sat upon a mangosteen tree and stuck out his tongue. Leopards watched us on several occasions, their tails hanging from trees, the twitch of their ears making their presence known.
We saw large herds of wildebeest and zebra bright in the sunlight. No wonder the collective term for zebs is a dazzle of zebra. Then, one evening at dusk, Steve, whose head was forever out of the vehicle following tracks, turned off the road into the bush. And in the stillness we came across a superb black-maned lion.
He was magnificent. Silently we sat, our nostrils filled with the cat stink of him, then he lifted his head and roared. A sound so loud our vehicle vibrated. From a distance, his call was answered.
Selinda is a small, quite exclusive tented camp with accommodation for 18. The joy of Selinda is that from the moment you arrive, you feel as if you belong, as if you are part of this very special family.
A sister camp in the concession is Zarafa, and one morning we dropped in for breakfast. Zarafa is extremely luxurious - the tents have three rooms and exquisite brass baths. Only eight guests can be accommodated and, like Selinda, the game within Zarafa's area is ever-present. Well, it's the same. A group of Swiss tourists had "spent the best days in their lives", they said. We believed them.
Steve remembered from my previous visit that my wish was to see an aardvark. He admitted that since he'd seen me, he'd seen four.
"Four aardvark?"
"Four," he nodded.
"Next time you come, we'll find an aardvark," he said.
Ah, next time.
If you go...
- VISAS: SA passport holders need passports to exit South Africa and enter Botswana but they do not need a visa for Botswana.
- GETTING THERE: We flew from Joburg to Maun with Air Botswana - an outstanding flight. We then flew in a small charter plane up to Selinda Camp. On the return journey, we flew from Selinda to Kasane then back to Joburg, with Air Botswana. Again an excellent flight.
- ACCOMMODATION: The Selinda Concession has two camps, the 5-star Selinda Camp (where we stayed) and the 8-star Zerafa. Both are small and intimate and it is not an overstatement to say that no guest wants to leave. The camps are fully inclusive including drinks.
- INFO: Gateway Travel offers a fully-inclusive four-day stay at Selinda Camp for R10 990 which includes airfares, transfers and accommodation. For further information call 086 043 8292, email: info@gatewaytours.co.za or website: www.gatewaytours.co.za
- SELINDA: The area edges the Okavango Delta and is home to red lechwe, sitatunga, wild dogs, elephant, buffalo, all the cats, bat-eared foxes and, says Steve Kgwatalala.
