we got stuck...in paradise

We’ve been planning on taking a trip to Mozambique since we returned from Tanzania last January but our plans keep changing and our departure date pushed back. We were waiting for the South Africans to clear out from their holiday travels, re-orienting our route to avoid the mud of the rainy season in northern Mozambique and trying to get all our work done before we head off (not easy to do when everyone we need to coordinate with is on holiday between Christmas and New Years).

We’ve been delayed yet one more time by an invitation we couldn’t turn down. Paul was invited up to the Selinda Reserve (www.selindareserve.com) in exchange for his mapping skills and a star show. Unfortunately, we could not fit the 100 pound telescope into the tiny plane we flew up in on Saturday afternoon. The six-seater just simply couldn’t accommodate the telescope and tripod (unless we displaced two of the others headed up to facilitate the staff training taking place). As it turns out, the weather didn’t cooperate so it wouldn’t have been possible to have a star show anyway.

Botswana is riddled with high end lodges all throughout the Okavango Delta region. Over thirty airstrips pop up out of nowhere serving as the gateway to these exclusive lodges. This particular location is owned by Dereck and Beverly Joubert, names you probably don’t know but whose work you’ve probably seen if you ever watch National Geographic channel (www.wildlifeconservationfilms.com). In preparation for our meeting, the night before we left I watched one of their films “Ultimate Enemies: Elephants and Lions.” Tragically, I was sobbing hysterically as the pride of lions, which had learned to hunt cooperatively, ate the tail of a dying elephant as he still struggled for his last breathes through his pathetically moving trunk. I couldn’t even watch. All weekend I hoped they didn’t ask me if I had seen any of their films (for fear I would burst in tears again). I know this is simply the laws of nature but I don’t know if I need to “see” it. I’m not sure I’m tough enough.

Despite the tragic nature of the reality of the wild, their skill at capturing this make Beverly and Dereck award winning wild life documentary film makers and it was a real privilege to get to meet them and spend some time with them. There’s a nice write up about their careers at the National Geographic website (http://events.nationalgeographic.com/events/speakers-bureau/speaker/beverly-dereck-joubert/). As National Geographic “Explorers-in-Residence” (there are only 11 in the world) they are described as photographers, filmmakers, and naturalists. Quite fascinating people .

From the rather bumpy landing at the small airstrip (a storm was picking up) we were whisked by safari vehicle to a boat ramp where we loaded onto a small power boat. A sort ten minute ride through hippos infested waters brings us to the main camp.

In boarding the boat Paul realizes that he doesn’t have his black bag (which includes all his documentation – passport, work and residency permit, house and car keys, cell phone, etc.). We eat a quick lunch and get back on the boat just as a storm hits to go to headquarters to make a phone call to see if he’s left it on the plane or in the airport. Just as we board the boat the black skies open up and it starts to pour. We are given wool lined ponchos that do little to keep us dry. We are flying across the water, pelted by rain water that is hitting so hard it feels like someone is throwing rocks at your face. We bank the corners at high speeds and I try not to think about all the hippos I saw earlier in these waters (when my eyes were open!).

We scramble to the open safari vehicle where the rain continues to batter us for the forty minute drive to headquarters. By the time we make the call to Eddy, Paul’s business partner, to have him check for the bag, make our way back through the rapidly deepening muddle puddles to the boat for our return ride to Selinda, we are drenched! I mean like wet rats! Soaked to the bone. Sopping wet! I laugh thinking how I bothered to iron my clothes that morning since we were going to such an exclusive place!

Even though we are not staying at this camp tonight (we are staying at Zarafa…the more exclusive of the two camps), someone lets us use their bathroom to shower and change into some dry clothes. It was the best shower I ever had! It felt so good to be warm and then dry again.

We were suppose to have a “bush dinner” the first night, meaning it would be set at an outdoors location with candle light and campfires but, unfortunately, the rain has made that impossible. Our meal “in”, however, was fascinating as Dereck and Paul share stories of the good old days in Botswana when Paul and he fought to prevent the “culling” of elephants (planned killings to keep their numbers down). Dereck credits Paul by stating, “Paul’s efforts single handedly prevented culling of elephants from becoming standard practice in Botswana.”

Dereck also spoke about the early days when he and Beverly lived in the bush and filmed for months on end. There’s a great book I perused from one of the coffee tables called “African Diaries” that describes these early days when they literally lived out of their vehicle for months. Dereck said that Paul was responsible for breaking their 270 day streak of solitude in the bush without seeing another person. He explained that even when they had their supplies dropped off they would wait until the bush pilot dropped the supplies and took off again before they would scurry to the landing strip to pick up the goods. But Paul just showed up one day out of the blue and broke their isolation. Dereck recounted how pissed off he was when he first saw Paul but then, after spending the night talking, he was really happy to have had the company. He recalls writing in his journal, “Sometimes on the worse roads you find the nicest people.”

The conversation, storytelling and wine went well on into the night with us not realizing that the camp we were staying at was a two hour mud filled ride away (they don’t run the boat at night – guess it is OK to risk the hippo waters in the rain but not in the dark?). By the time we reached Zarafa it was well after midnight and we were exhausted. So much so that we didn’t realize how beautiful it was until the next day.


OK, where do I begin? The luxury tent we stayed in for two nights was larger than our house in Botswana. Zarafa has only 4 tents for guests. Prices range from $1025 to $1445 per person per night depending on the time of year. The décor is 1920s safari -- lots of wood, leather and brass. It’s the kind of stuff you might see in a furniture magazine and say, “hmmm, I really like that” until you see the price. Our tent faces the water with breath taking views at sunset (see first picture above). We had our own private “plunge pool” on the deck and an outdoor shower made of copper tubing the blasted you from head to toe with jets of water. Inside there is a big bath tub built for two. Unbelievable.

Inside the king size bed is surrounded by mosquito netting given it an ambience of mystery. The netting, however, was not even needed as somehow, despite the fact that this was a “tent” in the middle of the “bush” there wasn’t a bug in the place (although there was some sort of critter outside of the tent trying to gnaw or scratch its way in).

Our next two days are spent mapping the road system in this concession. We see amazing bird life, two female lions just walking down the sand track, lots of impala and kudu, several giraffe, a pack of wild dogs seeking shade under a bush, a pack of hyena making their way to a turned up dead hippo in the water for a snack and a funny looking Roan with long rabbit like ears. Each night we are treated to a tasty dinner. We eat our meals with the other staff at camp there for the weekend for training.

We had assumed we were leaving on Monday but they don’t seem to have access to a flight to get us back to Maun (they are simply putting us on a charter flight that happens to be coming in with open seats when it departs). Our final night we spend at Selinda Reserve itself which is also amazingly beautiful but seems “small” by comparison to Zarafa but we “roughed it.”

On our days spent mapping (see photo below of Paul with his GPS in hand and a giraffe in back) and we get drenched again with down pouring rain. On the third day when it starts to rain again I simply whip off my shorts, put them in the glove compartment and wear my bathing suit bottoms. We’ve gotten so much rain that my rain coat appears to be disintegrating into a sticky mess rendering it useless. And I’ve found that using an umbrella while wearing the wool lined poncho is the best approach in the open safari vehicle. At one point the rain is driving so hard we can’t even see.

I have no idea how Paul is continuing to drive as my face is buried in the hood of the poncho. When I do look up we’ve come up to a road that looks like a river. It rounds a corner and we can’t see how long it carries on under water. We back track and find a “pontoon” bridge across the water that looks too narrow for our vehicle but Paul thinks he can make it. We get the front wheels on but the weight of it cause the pontoon to sink a bit and the metal ramp we’ve just driven across pops up and hits our back wheels preventing us from getting the rest of the vehicle onto the bridge. We back off it and choose the "river road" as the only other options. I hold on tight to the handle on the dash board hoping we don’t flip over into the hippo water wondering how my life has turned into a potential episode of “I shouldn’t be alive” or “I Survived” (I think they are both on National Geographic and recount people’s terrifying near death experiences). Obviously we made it but not without some white knuckle moments!

There’s so much rain this weekend people start calling us “Rra and Ma Pula” (Mr. and Mrs. Rain). Remember, in this desert climate rain is seen as a good thing so this is a real compliment. On Tuesday there’s a flight we can catch out around noon just as the sky is turning black for another thunder storm. Mid-flight the weather takes a turn for the worse and we are diverted to another airstrip to wait out the storm. That’s enough little tiny flights for me for a while.


We head off to Mozambique via Zimbabwe tomorrow for an abbreviated vacation.
Hoping for sun!
The blogger formerly known as “Ma Pula”

PS: As I’m writing this back at the house an African wild cat just walked across the yard and down the drive way. They look like a grey tabby cat only 3 to 4 times the size. The legs are very long and bodies quite big. We’d seen one on the ostrich farm before but not recently and not in the day light (usually at dusk). Hope the baby ostriches are safe!

PPS: failed to mention that the black bag with all Paul's important documents and keys was found and delivered up to Selinda! What a relief.