Our Mini-Staycation: Moremi Gorge

Me hiking in Moremi Gorge

My husband sees the world as full of possibilities. A former safari client once captured this well by saying “or, or, or” to describe Paul’s recognition of endless possible scenarios or plans. And, while this is a beautiful thing (in some ways), it sometimes prevents any plans from being made until one runs out of time and the future jumps up to smack you in the face! This is what happened with our vacation plans this year.

For the last couple of summer/winter breaks we’ve managed to take a two week overland trip somewhere interesting (2015 – Fish River Canyon in Namibia; 2014 – Malawi via Zimbabwe and Mozambique) and while I was hoping to do the same this year, I let the “or, or, or” go on a bit too long (we were first considering Zimbabwe (but worried a bit about the rioting taking place), then Zambia (but it’s quite expensive to drive in for a short visit – insurance, road tax, visas), then Northern Namibia) and so… we ultimately delayed so long we somewhat ran out of time and ended up doing a “staycation” instead.

If you are unfamiliar with the term a “staycation” it is when you spend a holiday in your home country rather than abroad (or at home and take day trips to local attractions). We had talked about returning to Moremi Gorge (in the Southeastern part of the country) after seeing the new chalets they built a few years back. The 2009 Furman Study Away group may remember the gorge as we hiked it during our time together in Botswana.

Crevice and Black pool

To be honest with you, I don’t remember much of the 2009 hike besides the terrifying initial stage of the hike. Very shortly after entering the trail, one must choose between swimming across an ice cold black pool and scrambling up a waterfall or scurrying up a rock face, laying on one’s stomach and slithering like a snake about 50-60 yards in a crevice which looked much too tight for human passage! I panicked. Not only was I overwhelmed by the fears of legal liability (what would Furman do if I lost a student off the side of a mountain? AND…what was Paul thinking bringing us here?!) but I don't exactly love heights or small spaces (and I loathe cold water)! 

The expanse of the crevice I slithered through

All the young enthusiastic students went through quite quickly and… I froze! This felt like Sophie’s Choice…impossible…which did I have a better chance of surviving? Ultimately I chose the rock slither but only with Paul talking me through the whole way and my holding onto his ankle with a death grip as he slithered in front of me (I have mostly forgiven him for bringing us there). After that, I don’t remember much of the rest of the hike. 

So…for our “staycation” I decide we should go back there. [My secret plan is to park myself at the base of the rock face/black pool and wait for him to return if they haven’t made a better way across. I’m hopeful that they must have done something if they bothered to build the chalets (I am terrified that they have not until we hike on the first day and arrive at the dreaded location)].

One bedroom chalet

The chalets are affordable and comfortable. They are self-catering so we need to bring all our food and supplies. There’s a beautiful outdoor shower run on solar power, a lovely porch for sundowners and a grill for food prep. At night, breath-taking views of the Milky Way greet us overhead and the mountain range surrounding the gorge looks like an ominous black wall of darkness. One night is so windy I am sure our thatch roofed chalet will take flight. The winds are so strong it sends our seat cushions and place mats into the thorny brush around us and carries one of the chairs on the porch down the side of the chalet and into the dirt!

Outdoor Shower

Kitchenette

Porch for sundowners

Our first full morning we sleep in (another thing about Paul is that he often underestimates how long it takes to get from point A to point B so what we thought would be a 5 hour drive was more like…8). By late morning we’re up and moving and decide to drive around the area a bit and get the lie of the land. We arrive at the trail head and are greeted by Zuma, a guide from the local community. He says he can take us for a brief walk to see some of the waterfalls but if we want to see the Cape vulture nesting spot, we’ll have to start out earlier the next day.

A bridge! Yippee!

Moremi Gorge is unlike any other place in Botswana. The permanent river keeps the area lush and green and Paul and Zuma spend much time discussing the scientific names of plants and trees (but I'm a sociologist, dammit!). When Paul asks about one Zuma doesn’t know he states that he is "still researching that one.” Paul likes this game and a walk that should take an hour and a half, takes…three. My heart palpitates in anticipation of having to make “Sophie’s Choice” again until we get to the spot and I see…a new bridge! A small climb up and down some rocks (holding on to cables in spots) and across the bridge gets us around the formerly risky spot (exhale!).

Waterfall in Moremi Gorge

Our Guide, Zuma, and I at Waterfall

On our longer hike the next day we make our way all the way to the vulture nesting spot. And, while on the 2009 trip, we had to scale a tall and treacherous rock face to get to the top of a mountain to look down into the nests (once I get past the post-crevice trauma I start to remember more), we are told by Zuma that they no longer allow people to do that because of the risk (Paul is deeply disappointed; I am deeply relieved!).

Cape Vultures Coming Off Their Nests

At the end of the gorge we get to the vulture nesting spot and look up to see many vultures flying overhead. Staring at the rock face across from us what looks like simply rocks at first reveals itself to be peppered with vultures sitting on nests. Our guide informs us that researchers came last year and counted 200 vultures on nests alone (not counting the ones soaring above). We look for a long time, like an adult game of “Where’s Waldo?” They are everywhere.

Cape Vulture Soaring Overhead

While the biggest fear triggers from last time are gone, the hike still involves some scurrying up rocks and crossing the small stream on multiple occasions but it is well worth the effort. 

On the edge of a rock face with cables to help

Making our way up to a viewing spot

There are also the dreaded mountain "stinging nettles" to beware of. Grab one of these by accident and you will remember it all night. Ouch!

Mountain stinging nettles - do not touch!

We are encouraged by a local birder in Maun before we leave to, in addition to seeing the Cape vulture nesting spot and the black eagles in the area, try to spot the mountain wagtail. We tell Zuma this and he does not disappoint. We spend some time at the second waterfall watching this beautiful bird wag his tail up and down as we searches for his lunch.

Mountain wagtail

Mountain wagtail

On our way back from Moremi Gorge we decide to divert and follow a sign for “Kaitshe Escarpment”. Throughout Botswana there are a series of signs with orange arrows that point you in a direction, off the beaten path, to find important historic/geologic sites. This sign brings us to the top of an escarpment (it is so exciting to see views from a point of elevation given that much of Botswana is F-L-A-T). When we finally get there we see stunning views of Sowa Pan and learn that a village was located at the top of this escarpment around 1000 AD. A large stone wall demarcates the edge the village. It takes us so long to get to the top of the escarpment that we decide to camp there for the night.

Sowa Pan from Kaitshe Escarpment

Stone Wall from Former Village (1000 AD)

We are all alone. At one point I hear something walking in the woods and explore to find a single white horse making its way along a well-worn cattle path (where is he going?). We have our sundowners overlooking the pan. Paul takes the opportunity to do some night photography and catches a breath-taking glimpse of the crescent moon (at a slightly different angle than we see in the Northern hemisphere). It is quiet and peaceful (except for the niggling feeling in the back of my brain most likely prompted by seeing the movie “Deliverance” – which, given that we camp in the middle of nowhere fairly often, I wish I had never seen!). 

Crescent Moon

Our drive back to Maun the following day takes us through Makgadikgadi Pans with a stop for lunch at Kubu Island (a camping spot in the middle of the pans loaded with Baobab trees). And so ends our mini-staycation and my last outing in Botswana before I return to the States for the start of the fall semester! 

Giant Baobab Tree (that's me at the base)

Predators: sometimes you win, sometimes you lose

Paul has left the tent to brush his teeth when I hear in a whisper, “Wild dogs! Wild dogs!” I rush out to see three wild dogs bounding through camp. They bounce and prance on full alert, clearly on the hunt for their breakfast. We follow them on foot, they pay us no attention. They double back and head out towards the open grassy plains. One perches himself atop a termite mound in hopes of getting a better look. 

The area comes alive as the potential prey becomes aware of the potential predator. A herd of zebra stampede off. Then a small group of water buck. Finally, impala take off at full speed, tightly clustered and running for their lives. The wild dog launches himself from his lookout and sprints towards the fleeing impala. “He’ll never catch them,” I think. “The gap between them is too wide,” I say to Paul. But at lightning speed he closes the gap. Two of his pack mates follow behind until one of the impala from the herd makes a life changing decision, he breaks off from the pack and heads towards the woods (NEVER LEAVE THE GROUP PEOPLE!). Now the entire pack rallies and it’s over for the stray. 

By the time we get in the vehicle and make our way across the pan all that remains of the impala is a large smudge of blood in the grass where the actual kill must have taken place. All five dogs have their heads down eating. If I didn’t know it was an impala, I would have no idea what it was. There isn’t much left. Two stop their gorging and sit to rest, bellies full and satisfied. One’s head and neck is totally covered with blood, I assume he was the sprinter who made the actual kill.

We watch them for a while until they are all satisfied and one by one they walk off into the woods. One straggler lingers behind making sure that no tasty morsels are left behind. He moves from one spot to another, picks something off the ground, chews a bit, then moves again and finds another nugget. Finally, satisfied, he realizes all his pack mates have left and heads off towards the woods himself.

Sometimes my students and past clients on safari have said they "want to see a kill". I really have no desire to. I saw (heard) a bat-eared fox killed by a leopard in the Central Kalahari Game Reserve once and the recollection of it still brings tears to my eyes. I know, I know…the circle of life and all, but that doesn’t make it any less brutal. I can’t help feeling bad for the impala and his poor choice. Just standing there eating your breakfast, chew, chew, chew, when out of nowhere a predator pounces. And it’s over in a matter of minutes. Geez! If I were an impala, I’d have an anxiety disorder!

We’re in Moremi Game Reserve for one night to give a star show to some clients on a mobile safari. Their enthusiasm for all we have to show them is contagious. Views of Saturn’s rings bring gasps and the bands on Jupiter, applause. It is so special to be part of someone’s safari experience by sharing the sights and stories of the Southern Skies with them. We pack up Paul’s 10-inch telescope and Bushmen tales of the constellations and we’re on our way.

Sunday on our drive back we decide to head out to Dead Tree Island, which is totally transformed since the last time we were there. With low flood waters this year we are able to drive in places we haven’t driven before and Paul turns on his GPS to gather the new road network. At one point in time, the GPS suggests we are under water in the Okavango Delta. Little does it know that things have changed. The area is mostly quiet in terms of animals – a few impala, wildebeest, but tons of baboons. We are coming across a mostly dry floodplain and see some lechwe grazing in the wet area. Lechwe are large antelopes with powerful hindquarters allowing them to push their way through reeds and wet grass. We see two safari vehicles stopped and amble over to see if they’ve spotted something.

They have, in fact, spotted a cheetah on the hunt for a lechwe. We watch for a long time and see nothing but grazing lechwe. Then we spot him, stealthily making his way through the high grass. If you look up from your binoculars, you lose him and must search again to find him. The lechwe are oblivious – chew, chew, chew. The cheetah picks his head up to get a closer look. We don’t know if the  lechwe heard him or saw him or smelled him but they cluster tightly together and use their strong hind legs to spring through the water away from the threat. Once a safe distance away they turn to watch him. As long as they have their eyes on him, they're safe. His cover has been blown. He sleeks off to find a shady place to rest under a bush. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.

Lechwe on the move

Cheetah in the high grass

Cheetah on the prowl

In the nick of time...

Lying in bed snuggled under the weight of several blankets that have managed to keep most of me cozy for our night under the stars in celebration of our anniversary, I wake up just in the nick of time to see a bit of magic. Rolling to one side I see the full moon setting, red in the dust of the dry Botswana earth. Rolling in the other direction, just past Paul’s head, I see the sun rising. Magic!

We’ve celebrated our 8^th anniversary in a “sky bed” (watch this video to get a better look of what I’m talking about). When we arrive after dinner the stairways are illuminated with lanterns to guide us to the top of this two story structure where we find our beds all made up for the night. Before climbing under the warm covers, we sit at the viewing counter and watch the elephants drink from the watering hole just 100 yards away. While we bring our night vision binoculars we don’t really need them because the full moon makes it pretty easy to see. For much of the night I hear them quietly coming and going to the watering hole. While it wasn’t the best night of sleep I’ve ever had, it was pretty special none the less (it was pretty bright with the full moon and cold, all night I felt like a dragon with very cold breath was breathing on the exposed skin of my face).

Sky Bed - Hyena Pan

Paul looking up at Sky Bed

Me looking down from Sky Bed

Beds all made up for the night

A couple weeks back I put in a bid for two nights at Hyena Pan Tented Camp as a part of an online breast cancer fund raiser. Little did I know the auction ended at noon, so my bid at 11:59 was well-timed and outbid the standing offer with no time to lose. With that we were off to the bush for a short escape. Nestled in the mopane trees near the Khwai River (always an amazing place for wildlife viewing) we were the only guests in camp over Botswana’s President’s Day holidays (which happened to fall this year on our anniversary, July 18).

Paul's friend Peg, the one legged bird

While there was not much wildlife at the camp itself (and what we did see was quite skittish – this area used to be hunting area and it seems the animals still remember), we do have some nice encounters including a one legged bird (I’ve named “Peg”) who Paul befriends and likes to feed cookie crumbs to at tea (and bread crumbs to at lunch and breakfast). As the sun sets one night a honey badger trots into camp looking for goodies. Unphased by us, he makes his way around camp. Notoriously fierce, we keep our distance.

"Peg" with cookie crumbs at tea

Wild dog

The wildlife not far from camp does not disappoint. We hear from other guides that there is a wild dog den with ten pups not too far from where we’re staying so we venture out to see if we can catch a glimpse. We visit the den a couple times only to find a few sleeping adults but the pups must be safely tucked down in the den because we see no sign of them. On our third attempt, the mother is sleeping in the sand track we’re driving in on. As we slowly navigate around her (it is shocking how unaffected they are by the presence of vehicles), she decides to get up and walk over to the edge of the den where she is rushed by the ten pups who scurry to have a mid-morning snack. The puppies scramble out of the den vying for a good seat at the table, so to speak. When mom decides that’s enough, she simply stands up and walks away leaving the kids to play outside a bit on their unstable legs.

Wild dog pups at play

More fooling around

The Khwai River area is teeming with animals. We see large pods of hippos and on our way back to Maun we come around one bend in the river to find literally hundreds of elephants coming down for a drink. Who knows where they’ve come from or how far they’ve traveled (it is the dry season and access to water is limited to rivers or artificially pumped watering holes, all the standing rain water from the rainy season has pretty much dried up by this point in the year). They arrive in waves, family groups washing up to the bank of the river like the ocean cycles to the shore. One breeding herd arrives, drinks, then moves on and another arrives to take their place. It is breath-taking! We stop the vehicle and watch for a very long time as they pass in front of us and behind us. Low grumbles. Small ones kept in the middle surrounded by mom and aunts and older sisters. An occasional cheeky adolescent male, who feels the need to shake his head and flap his ears, gives us a little trumpet just to let us know he could “take us”, if he had too.  Typically you don’t need to worry about those adolescents (they are more bluster than real threat), it’s the big mamas protecting their babies you’ve got to keep an eye on. But that afternoon they seemed relatively calm.

Waves of elephants

Mama and baby drinking

Breeding herds drinking

Giraffe family

We decide to take the “old road” back to Maun for part of the return trip (there is now an incredibly dusty and bumpy road made of calcrete that most travelers take from Maun to Moremi). Off the beaten track and away from the other tourists we putter back towards Maun. We find many surprises along the way. Rounding one corner looking away from the river and up into the mopane forest we see a large herd of Cape buffalo tucked under the trees (sorry no picture of that one). We encounter curious giraffe families and see plenty of impala. Out of the corner of my eye as we're heading down the road I even catch a glimps of a group of four male lions napping under a bush (I have a theory that you only see lions when you’re not looking for them and this was definitely one of those cases). They must have just eaten because very close by is a herd of impala that they are not at all interested in. One is on his back splayed out like a satisfied house cat, legs in the air. Another has leaves stuck in his mane which is a bit skewiff with lion “bedhead”.  He yawns with disinterest in our direction. So glad I turned my head in that direction, just in the nick of time…

Napping lions

Lion Bedhead

Licking his chops

Roaring Lions, Bushmen Encounters and a Polka?!

Giraffe in an African sunset

Sitting around the fire after dinner we hear the awe inspiring roar of the Kalahari lion. We heard him the previous night as well signaling to his brother. One would call from behind our tent, the other off in the distance in front of our tent. It certainly is magical to be lying in bed listening to the call of lions. We learn from camp staff that these two males have recently pushed an aging male out of the territory and they are now the new kings in town. With the last call sounding mighty close to where we are seated, we grab the night vision binoculars and climb up to the elevated viewing point at Kalahari Plains Camp to see if we can get a better look at him crossing the pan in front of camp.

We had the fortunate opportunity to be in this stunning location in the middle of the Central Kalahari Game Reserve because Paul was asked to come and do some guide training about the Central Kalahari (where he spent his first two years in Botswana as a Bushmen Development Officer back in the early 1970s; not only does Paul love the CKGR but you'd be hard pressed to find many that know more about it than he does). We arrive on Sunday with the intention of starting training midday on Monday but a delay in the arrival of all the guides for training gives us a bit of free time and things kick into full gear on Tuesday. 

The Bushmen issue is a bit of a political hot potato in Botswana  (see Survival International for one point of view on this) with several court cases (against the Botswana government for the forced removal of the Bushmen and water rights) eventually won by the Bushmen. Paul is there to teach the guides a bit about his experiences with Bushmen specifically their hunting and gathering practices, cultural values and traditional life style. He also does some astronomy training and a star show.

Traditional Home in Bushmen Village

Some of this training is done via lectures and video (we watched an amazing video called “The Great Dance” that was produced in 2000) and others by hands on activities like a visit to a local Bushmen community and a walk with a Bushmen family that is employed by the lodge. While in the village Paul runs into his old friend Roy Sesana, a Bushmen working with these issues for years. He graciously speaks with us about the current state of affairs and then shows us around his area (e.g. his home, fields, and long fought for reverse osmosis water treatment machine and borehole donated by international donors).

Paul and Roy

Homemade Musical Instrument

Life seems simple yet difficult for the people living in the Kalahari. No running water, no electricity, no wifi, no cell service. Close multigenerational families, handmade musical instruments, beautiful landscapes and an escape from the modern world. It would not be politically wise for me to explore this issue at great length in a public forum like a blog, but suffice is to say, as with most things involving humans, culture and global influences, it’s as complicated as a polka at a traditional dance at an African lodge. 

That’s right… a polka! In addition to the typical Bushmen dancing that one might see at an African lodge, we actually saw a polka. While I’m not sure of the exact route from Central Europe to Botswana, apparently, there are areas of Botswana where people have polkaed for years. At camp this week there were also two dance instructors training the staff to polka and much of the week one could hear what sounded like carnival music emerging from the thorn bushes as they practiced. And, in my opinion, their practicing paid off! We watched a stunning African infused rendition of a polka. Humans, culture, and globalization…as I said, it’s complicated. But I like it that way. While people may want to offer simple statements about the Bushmen issue in Botswana, it is anything but simple.

Our tent at Kalahari Plains Camp

Luxury lodge living is something I suspect I could get used to. I love the fact that I leave for breakfast and come back to a made bed and room ready for the day with decorative pillows rearranged. Magic cleaning elves? When we go for dinner we come back to the bed turned down for the evening, mosquito net in place and wait for it…my favorite part…hot water bottles (which I call “bush babies” like the exceptionally cute tiny little primates with the big eyes) tucked in to help us stay warm through the cold Kalahari night. When I return to Maun, I go to eat breakfast and return to the bedroom only to find the bed still unmade. Sigh…

View from our tent

On our last day in camp, we are the only non-staff people around. I feel somewhat guilty about this but we enjoy it nonetheless. After eating a tasty breakfast we head off to Sunday Pan to go see what wildlife we can see. While we try to find the lions we have been hearing at night, we fail to do so. We do however see plenty of wildlife – gemsbok, giraffe, springbok, bat eared fox, jackal and an abundance of birdlife (including the ever present pale chanting goshawk).

Gemsbok

Gemsbok

Giraffe

Springbok at Sunday Pan

Jackal and Springbok at Sunday Pan

On our very last night, when I would have been completely satisfied if they had made us a packed dinner to go back to our tent with so they wouldn’t have to bother setting up the dinner buffet and our table, they pull out all the stops and set up a romantic dinner for two. Candles, wine, and more delicious food in line with what we’ve been eating all week – starters of homemade soup and bread, a buffet with many choices and a delicious “pudding” (or “dessert” as we would call it, remember “pudding” isn’t always pudding). If we do encounter that lion on the walk back to our tent, he will have a very filling “stuffed Americans” treat. But what a way to go...