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headers already sent by (output started at /usr/www/users/undert/blog/wp-content/plugins/breadcrumb-navxt/includes/adminKit/setting/class-mtekk_adminkit_setting_base.php:26) in /usr/www/users/undert/blog/wp-includes/rest-api/class-wp-rest-server.php on line 1758 Warning: Cannot modify header information - headers already sent by (output started at /usr/www/users/undert/blog/wp-content/plugins/breadcrumb-navxt/includes/adminKit/setting/class-mtekk_adminkit_setting_base.php:26) in /usr/www/users/undert/blog/wp-includes/rest-api/class-wp-rest-server.php on line 1758 Warning: Cannot modify header information - headers already sent by (output started at /usr/www/users/undert/blog/wp-content/plugins/breadcrumb-navxt/includes/adminKit/setting/class-mtekk_adminkit_setting_base.php:26) in /usr/www/users/undert/blog/wp-includes/rest-api/class-wp-rest-server.php on line 1758 Warning: Cannot modify header information - headers already sent by (output started at /usr/www/users/undert/blog/wp-content/plugins/breadcrumb-navxt/includes/adminKit/setting/class-mtekk_adminkit_setting_base.php:26) in /usr/www/users/undert/blog/wp-includes/rest-api/class-wp-rest-server.php on line 1758 {"id":627,"date":"2016-09-16T08:39:35","date_gmt":"2016-09-16T08:39:35","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/underonebotswanasky.com\/blog\/?p=627"},"modified":"2022-09-01T12:59:59","modified_gmt":"2022-09-01T12:59:59","slug":"botswana-national-geographic-traveller","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underonebotswanasky.com\/blog\/botswana-national-geographic-traveller\/","title":{"rendered":"Botswana – National Geographic Traveller"},"content":{"rendered":"
Their trunks are each other, two teenage tugging and pulling twisted around elephants knee-deep in water, before letting go and continuing the with jostling their foreheads.<\/strong><\/p>\n Soon, another male joins this play fight and all three are piled up, bodies together, legs and proboscises akimbo, roughhousing in the Chobe River in the afternoon sun. These prepubescent males hold me transfixed, as does the rest of their family, as I watch from a small boat a short distance away. There\u2019s the matriarch alongside the other adult females in the group, plus the three teenagers and two babies, all at the edge of the river, drinking, floating, scratching themselves on the ebony and jackalberry trees, playing and swimming, taking delight in the fact that here in the water their bodyweight is reduced by half by the buoyancy in their bellies.<\/p>\n The babies mostly find shelter under the legs or the trunks of the females, but sometimes they stand alone, tentatively working out what this trunk thing does \u2014 up until they’re a year old elephants can only use their mouths to drink water but when they’re fully grown they can take in eight litres with one big snort. These babies are a comical sight \u2014 with big moon faces and fuzzy hair on their heads \u2014 and as I marvel at them, the tiny elephant singing \u2018in a military style\u2019 during Colonel Hathi\u2019s March in The Jungle Book springs to mind. And so, gazing at the largest animals in Africa going about their daily business, I hear the refrain \u2018hup, two, three, four\u2019 and \u2018We\u2019re a crackerjack brigade. On a pachyderm parade. But we\u2019d rather stroll to a water hole.<\/p>\n For a furlough in the shade.\u2019 Chobe National Park, in Northern Botswana, has one of the largest concentrations of game in Africa, and the Serondela area \u2014 e fectively the Chobe riverfront \u2014 is the prime spot for viewing Kalahari elephants, whose large, flapping ears are said to resemble the shape of the African continent. On a very good day you can see hundreds of pachyderms as they come down the red hills in a diagonal line towards the water, where they might remain for some hours.<\/p>\n Today is a good day. Some tentatively skirt the edge of the river, while others plunge right in and splash water behind their ears to cool their veins. Others mix sand with water to make a sort-of mud bath that helps them su focate biting parasites as well as reduce their temperature. Babies trip over their own feet, or those of others, or hang on to their mother\u2019s trunks or legs for stability. The whole thing is such an utterly breathtaking spectacle I well up at the privilege of seeing it.<\/p>\n \u201cHere in the water is when you see that the true colour of the elephant is not in fact grey or brown but a charcoal black,\u201d says Isaac, my captain and guide. As he tries to keep the boat steady, he tells me that elephants live in social structures but also split up into a breeding herd that\u2019s led by the grandmother, the matriarch, and a bachelor herd led by a patriarch, who instils discipline in the young, marauding boys. He points to the rough-playing teenagers. \u201cWhen those naughty boys are in puberty \u2014 between the ages of 12 and 18 \u2014 the matriarch kicks them out to try to avoid interbreeding.\u201d<\/p>\n Further along the Chobe, we come across a solitary male, standing in marsh grass in the middle of the river, tugging up great tuffs of green, swishing them around and beating them a bit, before putting this in his mouth. He\u2019s out here on his own because he\u2019s older and prefers solitude to the fighting and power struggles among younger adult males. \u201cSolitary bulls have had enough of the young men in the breed so they keep to themselves,\u201d Isaac explains. \u201cThey shake the grass to take care of their molars.<\/p>\n They have six sets in their lifespan of 65 years so they need to slow down the flattening of this last set or they won\u2019t be able to chew grass and will suffer from malnutrition.\u201d As we putter along the Chobe, the abundance of birdlife is astonishing \u2014 over 450 species of bird call this place home. I see kingfishers (malachite and pied), pygmy geese, helmeted guineafowl (\u2018Chobe chicken\u2019), and beautiful southern carmine bee-eaters \u2014 their plumage bright in breeding colours \u2014 flying in and out of nest chambers as they excavate. Sitting on the skeleton of a tree is an African cormorant, its red throat slightly puffed up as it lazily spreads its wings so that it can dry off after the rains, cleaning itself with its own natural oils before it\u2019s able to fly away. Further down the river, up on another tree, are a pair of fish eagles \u2014 I watch as one swoops down and pulls its prey out of the water with its talons before returning to share the spoils with its monogamous partner.<\/p>\n Along the water\u2019s edge, impala and lechwe lick mineral salt from the dirt to help neutralise the high levels of tannins in the leaves they\u2019ve eaten from the acacia tree. There are Cape buffalo \u2014 accompanied by little oxpeckers, quietly picking away at ticks and scabs on the body of the animal \u2014 considered the most aggressive of the Big Five. \u201cIn Southern Africa, buffalo are nicknamed \u2018the dagger boys\u2019,\u201d says Isaac. \u201cAnd in East Africa, they’re known as the Black Death.\u201d We rise at dawn the next day for a game drive out from Chobe Safari Lodge<\/a> into the park. A pride of lions has been seen and we\u2019re going to track them down. The low morning sun begins to rise and dust whips up around our viewing vehicle but our guide finally spots spoor \u2014 lion footprints. He scans the land with binoculars. We wait. And then they come \u2014 five of them, nonchalantly crossing the red road in front of us. Just as quickly, they\u2019re gone.<\/p>\n Famous footsteps<\/strong><\/p>\n It\u2019s when I take a single-prop aircraft from Kasane airport that I learn to appreciate the wide Botswana sky and the colours of the land. Vast tracts of uninhabited wilderness unfold below me \u2014 I watch the umber tones of the earth change to a salty white and follow the watery trails of the Okavango Delta.<\/p>\n We land at a tiny, basic airstrip, where I\u2019m met by two men driving a big red tractor with a trailer attached carrying a chair for yours truly. The men introduce themselves: Shakapira, the guide for my stay at Moremi Crossing<\/a>, and Shooting, his deputy, a trainee guide who shadows his mentor to learn more about the wildlife and the landscape around us. The waters of the Boro River and its channels are low on my visit so our activities are confined to slow, gentle excursions both on foot and in a mokoro \u2014 a traditional canoe once dug out of ebony but now less regally carved from fibreglass. First we head out in the poled mokoro, brushing past reeds and waterlilies, accompanied by bright-red dragonflies skimming the water\u2019s surface and a plopping soundtrack of catfish plunging into the shallows looking for bugs. We see fish eagles as well as saddle-billed and marabou storks.<\/p>\n But it\u2019s not long before we stop. Shakapira \u2014 who\u2019s poling \u2014 is suddenly cautious. \u201cHippo,\u201d he says. There are a tail of small crafs behind us and Shakapira takes to his radio and warns the other guides that he\u2019s seen a hippo in the long grass. But they go on. We stay where we are and then suddenly the hippo, which has slipped unseen into the water, breaches baring its enormous fat teeth and starts charging towards us.<\/p>\n Quickly the little boats turn and make haste the other way, amid peels of laughter, masking the underlying fear of a close encounter. \u201cI don\u2019t like hippo,\u201d explains Shakapira. \u201cWhen I was 14, I went fishing with my friends. We caught a lot of fish in our two mokoro and suddenly I realised that my mokoro was on top of a hippo. Then the hippo kicked my mokoro \u2014 luckily my bag of fish flew out and landed on the bank. I swam to the edge and went up on the sandbank and watched the hippo fight with the mokoro. He trashed it. That is why I don\u2019t like them. Whenever I see a hippo, I tell the guys we should turn back or take a diferent route.\u201d And so it is that the hippo stalls us time and time again. Three times we turn around, and take to the bank \u2014 Shakapira, me, then Shooting, walking amid palms, leadwood, knobthorn and sausage trees (named afer its huge, hanging fruits, which, should you wish to keep your head, it\u2019s important to avoid).<\/p>\n All the time we\u2019re\u00a0accompanied by the call of the Cape turtle dove \u2014 which Southern Africans like to say is them singing, \u2018work harder\u2019 and \u2018drink lager\u2019 \u2014 and the grey lourie, a creature known locally as the go-away bird, which emits a nasal call that sounds like \u2018g\u2019way\u2019. As we walk, Shakapira stoops to examine tracks for freshness. \u201cElephants have three pads on the back,\u201d he explains. \u201cCats keep their nails retracted and only put them out when they\u2019re attacking.\u201d<\/p>\n We brush past heavily aromatic sage and wild basil, with butterflies all around us. We see zebras, wildebeest and ostriches. Side-striped jackal. A python. A lonely bull elephant spots us and starts shaking his ears. Shakapira whispers us away. From the top of a termite hill, we look out and view a group of hippos frolicking, some yawning, all revelling in the muddy water blithely ignoring the tremulous sound of thunder and their three human observers.<\/p>\n Back at our tented camp at Moremi Crossing<\/a>, Shakapira, Shooting and I sit on the deck overlooking the delta, listening to the torrential rain (known as pula, which is also the name of the local currency) drumming on the thatched roof and making the hippo grass dance under its weight. Shooting has a guide exam in less than a week and I\u2019m keen to sit in on the lesson. The student points out the kudus grazing on the other bank, then helps me identify mangosteen, learn the difference\u00a0between pampas and hippo grass and discern the call of the cucka bird.<\/p>\n
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