The Linyanti Marshes of Botswana

Each day of safari feels like two full days. The morning consists of a 5AM wakeup, huddling around the campfire with a mug of coffee and a bowl of granola at 5:30AM, game drive from 6-10 (with a tea and coffee break around 8:30),  and then brunch at 11. We siesta (obviously) from 12-4 and then the afternoon consists of high tea/happy hour from 4-4:30, game drive until 8 (with sundowner drinks and snacks at sunset) and dinner until 9:30 or so. So each day feels like two full, separate days. The is all to make the point that events on safari are best remembered and narrated as discrete events rather than full days. For example, today consisted of two game drives, more meals and snacks than I can count, a nap, a short calisthenics routine, and reading time. But I prefer to think of the day’s episodes: coming across a pack of 9 hyena slowly swarming a mother elephant and her brand new calf* (*According to Dukes, hyenas are typically solo unless they are congregating at a kill or pursuing a weak target, such as a very young elephant calf); tracking a pride of 9 tigers offroad through dense scrub forest following their tracks in the sand; inadvertently aggravating a herd of elephants on their way to a small watering hole; and learning from our fantastically knowledgeable tour guide, Dukes, about the habits of the aardvark, elephants’ social structure and communication, and the political climate in Botswana.

Though most trips are truly remembered as snapshots of wonderful experiences rather than day-by-day accountings of one’s whereabouts, safari takes this to a new level. It sounds terrible to say this but at some point, a herd of impala is just another herd of impala and unless they’re doing something extraordinary, they aren’t thrilling to observe more than once. And so I think about the group of eleven hippos grazing in the high grass beside the road who we surprised yesterday and the amazing clumsy speed with which these obese submariners scurried back to the safety of the river. Or the hunting hyena pack that circled our open land cruiser from 5 feet away, eying me like the tasty morsel I’m sure I would be. There was the pregnant leopard we pursued two days ago until she found the perfect spot on a low hanging branch to wait for us to scram in order that she could resume her impala stalking. And the hippos on our boat ride two nights ago who were furious at our captain when he refused to heed their warning signs and so they would duck under our boat and emerge in our wake as soon as we passed, spraying water from their nostrils, throwing their head to and fro, and acting generally pissed off that we were in their waterway. Lastly, the baby giraffe who had a dislocated shoulder and its umbilical cord still dangling, limping along with its cousins and being nuzzled by its mom, knowing that it has only a few days to weeks to live since its limited mobility will make it an easy prey for one of the nearby hyenas or lions.

The list goes on and on… More to come!