Back to Botswana

Over a year later I'm finally getting back to blogging about my African adventure with my father and step-mother.  The memories are still so vibrant in my mind- I miss the sounds and smells of the African landscape.  I would like to go back someday.

When I returned from my trip last year, I told many people about my experience (okay... anyone who would listen).  The owner of the company I work for is a fantastic photographer, and so I told him he should go.  Then I told the woman who had hired me for the job 15 years ago.  She and her husband loved to travel, but had yet to experience a tour, much less one of such wild proportions.  I gave her the website of OAT and they began planning.  They've just left for their trip last sunday and I'm quite excited to hear about their experience in Africa.  I hope it's as amazing as mine was.

So back to Botswana...

Game drives are fantastic.  The whole experience is fantastic.  At this camp we would have two guides and two vehicles divided among 14 travelers.  After a hearty breakfast at dawn, we would head out.  Our guides, Tuelo (Mr T, is what we called him) and Julius, were knowledgable and happy to answer any quesions we had about animals, Botswana, the culture, you name it.  They loved what they did and it showed.

Mr T on the lookout.

Many animals crossed our path as we drove.  The sandy roads were not only traveled by us- elephants, baboons, warthogs, what-have-you.  They used the  heavily treaded trails to cut through the sharp, brambly terrain.  It was not uncommon to have to stop and wait for passing families.

First spotting of a black backed jackal.  Shy little guy... he steered clear of our noisy vehicles.

When this little one crosses, you wait for the others to follow.  Last place you want to be 

is between a mother elephant and her calf.

Mid morning we stop in an open area to enjoy a snack and a cup of tea or coffee.  It's getting warm, and soon the animals will all find shade and lounge until the evening.  Morning break gives us an opportunity to stretch our legs, find a vacant termite mound to relieve ourselves and get to know our fellow travelers.

After our break, we would take a leisurely drive back to camp, stopping to view impala, baobab trees, and many, many birds.  The views are so different from what I'm used to.  Everything is so much bigger, so much wilder, and so much more obviously dangerous.

 It's difficult to gauge the size of this termite mound, but chances are it's bigger than you think.

A young male impala strutting his stuff.

Baobab trees jutting from the landscape in the distance.

Returning from our morning game drive, we freshen up and return to the common area to talk, have cold beverages and eat an amazing lunch, provided by the cooking staff.  We were never left hungry, and  the food was always delightful.

Dad takes a moment to flip through his photos and share some of the gems with the rest of the group.

Regarding Africa

So, a year ago I received a phone call from my dad, and the reason for his call was basically this (I'm paraphrasing, of course).  He says to me, "Hey!  Mary and I are planning a trip to Africa and we were wondering if you'd like to go with us.  Well?  Wanna go?"  Of course I gave it some serious thought for all of about 30 seconds and replied with a hearty YES.

And so began the planning process.  Having never left the U.S., with the exception of a few drives down into Mexico for a handful of possibly unsavory reasons, I needed a passport and a barrage of vaccinations.  Of course the passport was painless, a few forms, a few photos and a chunk of money later I received my first passport in the mail.  The handlebar mustache I had at the time really tied the thing together.  The shots were not as painless, though not horrible.  There were enough needles however, to warrant switching to the other arm after a couple jabs.  I asked if there was a vaccination against bazooka fire or at very least, bullets in the event a random pirate attack should occur.  The travel nurse was not amused.  

Packing made me anxious- especially packing for a place I've never visited.  The key to this was pack light, and make sure everything dries quickly.  I won't pretend I didn't fret for quite a while over what to have/not have, but it occurred to me that I could go equipped with my passport, a good pair of walking shoes, my camera and a spare change of skivvies (optional) and I'd be okay, because you know what?  I'M GOING TO AFRICA.  Once I settled with that, it was easy.

...and there it is- ready to go to Africa.  Of course my cat knows what happens when I start putting my things into bags... he was not pleased.  Augusto, or "The Goose" went through my stuff anyway just to make sure I didn't forget anything.  Apparently I forgot the cat hair, so he helped me out in that department.