Botswana you have our hearts…

The start of our adventure was a peaceful escape into the timeless African wilderness. On the banks of the slow-moving Limpopo River, we sat beneath the warm glow of lanterns hanging from towering Jackalberry and Sycamore Fig trees, gazing into their giant branches while listening to the gentle, repetitive purring trill of the African Scops Owl.

Botswana’s roads challenge every mile with a rhythm all of their own, yet every journey rewards you with fresh landscapes and ever-changing horizons. The corrugations became part of the adventure itself. Stretching for kilometres, they rattled every drawer, shook every bolt and turned conversation into bursts between the vibrations. Definitely do not try and drink a sweet drink on these sections. The vehicle seemed to dance across the washboard roads, searching for the smoothest line. Botswana set the pace, reminding us that this journey was about embracing every dusty, bone-rattling mile.

We followed dusty tracks beneath a cloudless sky, travelling from the dazzling white salt pans, endless and wild, past ancient baobabs standing proudly over sweeping grasslands painted in shades of gold, ochre and deep African blue. Nxai Pans share a sense of space stretching beyond the vast sky arching overhead. They process a stillness and reveal subtle details as the day progresses. From the stately Kori bustards striding purposefully with deliberate steps, to the Bat Eared Foxes pouncing on prey hidden deep in the grass, their ears seem oversized for their delicate bodies while their curiosity overcomes caution as they glance in your direction before melting into the grassland as they walk away and the zebras shimmering in the heat haze idling around the water hole at mid-day.

The call of the jackal is the thread that weaves together every sound of the African night, the steady heartbeat of the wilderness that continues until dawn. Lying in your tent, you hear the slow, deliberate footsteps of an elephant as its padded feet touch the earth, their weight muffled by the soft dust. You know the animal is immense, yet it moves with astonishing silence. Only the crunch and snap of dry branches, the rustle of brittle leaves, and the deep exhale through its trunk reveal its passing. Standing only metres from your tent, its size is magnified by the ghostly stillness as it glides through the darkness with effortless grace.

Maun was quintessential Botswana—laid-back, welcoming and unhurried. Your pace slowed the moment you passed the first speed sign, whether you intended it to or not. Our quick stop to collect a meat order from Beef Boys became a slightly frantic dash across town, but that too became part of the adventure. The peaceful setting of Island Safari Lodge, alive with birdsong and shaded by mature trees, was the perfect place to regroup and prepare for the journey ahead.

Further north we reached the Okavango Delta and its winding channels—a land of water and a sea of land. From high above, the Delta stretched to the horizon, its shimmering waterways weaving through the landscape like an intricate lacework stitched by nature over thousands of years.

Amid the dry mopane woodland, a pelican was perhaps the last creature I expected to encounter. Yet there it was, waddling with quiet determination through the forest, like an old traveller who knew exactly where he was going. Its broad, deliberate steps with his big body rocking gently from side to side, awkward yet purposeful, unconcerned by appearances. There was something endearing about its slow progress, weaving between the trunks with complete confidence. The sight was surreal— water is never far away in the delta.

Camping on the edge of the Delta, surrounded by one of Africa’s most remarkable landscapes, is a feast for every sense. The earthy, fertile almost agricultural scent of the water mingles with the smell of damp reeds and sun-warmed vegetation. Beneath the surface, life is ever-present, revealed only by the gentle rustle of papyrus, silent movements in the shallows, and the occasional bubble breaking the still water. Water lilies floated among emerald grasses while narrow channels reflected the changing colours of the sky.

Whenever elephants or hippos crossed the waterways, camp life paused. Conversations stopped, cameras were forgotten, and everyone simply watched in quiet awe as these magnificent animals moved through the Delta with calm assurance. Across the channels came the unmistakable, haunting cry of the African Fish Eagle, a sound that became the soundtrack to our days. At night, the stars shimmered through the canopy of towering trees that sheltered our camp from the Delta’s intense heat, while fairy lights twinkled softly beside the glowing campfire, creating a place that felt both wild and wonderfully welcoming.

Throughout our adventure, I found simple comfort in our burnt and battered water bucket. Heated over the evening fire, it offered the luxury of warm water to wash away the dust of the day. Greeting each morning with coffee and Amarula as the sun began its long journey across the African sky became a daily ritual and a moment to savour.

An overland adventure—rugged, untamed and wonderfully free.

A land that will remain in our memory forever.