"I can't poo on a mouse!"
It was 5:30am and the little face looked up at me, imploringly, as I stood over it with the spade.
I’d made my way to the ready-dug hole in our temporary wild camp to take care of bush business, only to find a small rodent had fallen into the pit latrine (essentially, just a deep hole in the ground). Thankfully, believe it or not, these are remarkably clean and not at all disgusting – the sandy earth that has been dug out is trowelled in after each use – so it wasn’t as dire for the poor creature as it could have been!)
It scrabbled in futility at the crumbling earth sides of the pit, squeaking, trying to get out, but to no avail.
Our mokoro guide was waiting for us to leave on our sunrise walking safari (we had booked a three-day mokoro (a traditional boat, similar to a large dug-out canoe) and wild camping trip whilst we waited for our car to get fixed. I already knew that I had to be quick, and my situation was getting rather more urgent…so, what to do? Well, I could...no, I couldn’t…or could I? [Continued after highlights section]
Grateful for: the breeze and the fresh early mornings. Well worth the 5am alarm
Writing this from: camping on the banks of the Khwai river, ready to upload when we have signal again
Food highlight: all of the food provided on the trip. The cook was amazing and a particular highlight was the ginger pudding.
Scared of: hippos overturning the mokoro (which does happen)
Thing I miss most: an ice cold drink
Best moment: it’s very hard to choose, but watching the herd of elephants come so close and watching them for so long
Lowest moment: again, the heat at one point, with no way to cool down, wondering if it is possible to actually dissolve in a pool of one’s own sweat
Smallest but most pleasure from: drifting through the waters of the Okavango Delta in the mokoro at sunset watching the sky change colour
We’re glad that we brought: these huge hats. Do we look like safari dorks? Yes. Do we care? No. We’re SO glad of the shade.
Wildlife encounter of the week: seeing a three-day old hippo and its mother (from the other side of the river)
Fact of the week: if you see hippo dung in piles, it is from a female. Male hippos literally spray it everywhere to mark their territory so you find it up tree trunks and banks of earth.
Recommendation for other travellers: book this three-day mokoro safari through Audi Camp and ask for Super as your guide.
[cont] “NO!” I said out loud to myself. I decided that I definitely could not ‘go’ on the mouse – I had to rescue it.
I slowly lowered the spade in to try and give it something to get onto and help it out. It clambered on, then promptly scurried off the other side. I guess it was simultaneously trying to rescue itself and escape the huge metal object that was lunging at it.
I was desperately trying to get it onto the spade, and then draw the spade slowly up the side of the pit, whilst also trying not to trap its short tail or one of its tiny legs between the spade and the side of the pit.
“Come ON, you silly thing, FFS, get on the spade, I need to go!” I exclaimed at it, as time and time again I’d get it onto the spade only for it to inadvertently leap off again and back into the pit.
“Just bloody well get on, I’m trying to help you get out!”
(Why do we do this? Talk this way to creatures that can’t understand us?! Thinking about it now, I’m certain that my urgent tones were simply traumatising it further!)
Finally, it clambered on and I managed to lever the spade out just in time before it fell off again. Gratefully, and rather hurriedly, I completed the task I had intended to and dashed back to camp.
As any traveller knows, somewhere along the line, there’ll be a toilet story. Happily, this one wasn’t especially dramatic.
Little did I know that another animal would also visit the loo…and this time, I would not be getting as close to it!
As a side anecdote, some of you will know that toilet issues were of more concern to me when I did my solo multi-day hike in the U.S. and further travels whilst I was on chemo two years ago, thanks to just one of the delightful side effects that I suffered from that I called ‘surprise diarrhoea’.
I remember going into the chemist to buy Immodium in preparation, and the pharmacist asked me “do you want the rapid relief Immodium or the standard?”
When I asked what the difference was, she replied “The rapid relief works almost instantly and the other takes a little longer to take effect”. I looked at her, confused.
“Who are these people that take a relaxed approach to their diarrhoea?! Do they think, “you know what, I think I’ll give it a little longer, I like to live on the edge?!”
I don’t think she saw the funny side – and needless to say I bought many packets of the rapid relief.
Back to the present…
When the ‘loo’ had been erected when we arrived to set up camp, it was just a hole, with a rather comical looking stool (pun not intended!) with a loo seat attached. There was a privacy screen behind the side that was in the direction of the camp, but the other side was completely open onto the beautiful trees in this part of the Okavango Delta. It was very much a ‘loo with a view’.
Although, I did have visions of that famous scene in the Jurassic Park movie where someone hides from the T-Rex in the toilet and promptly gets eaten whilst on it! I was thinking more of a lion than a T-Rex but, nonetheless, not something I wished to experience. As with all camping in this part of the country, the animals can – and frequently are – everywhere, and you need to be on alert if you are a little way away from camp at all.
It was the middle of the day when we heard the breaking of branches – which is the unmistakable sound of elephants eating nearby. The cracking and crashing sounds are a welcome alert for us, as they do not like to be surprised by humans.
We had earlier witnessed a large breeding herd with some very young elephants crossing the ground some way ahead of the camp. We’d stayed in the bushes that surrounded the camp and watched them for a long time – grazing as they moved. Our incredible guide and mokoro ‘poler’ Motsupi (aka ‘Super’) had told us this was rare to see them so close, especially when they have youngsters with them. He estimated that one of the babies was probably no more than a week old.
We felt so lucky to see this scene – literally like something out of a film or a documentary – these beautiful creatures in their large family group, passing slowly through the landscape, and to be observing their natural behaviour.
In the more visited areas of the Delta (the large National Parks such as Moremi and Chobe), whilst you can get closer to the animals as they are more habituated to humans, Super said that here, you really get to observe them in a more natural fashion, but as they are naturally much more wary of humans, we had to take great care.
Occasionally, as we watched, one would catch sight of us (or smell us if we were upwind of them) from a certain direction and stop, staring at us intently. We would then retreat to the relative safety of the camp, which had been chosen as it was a small area amongst huge trees and bushes that not only afforded much needed shade but offered some protection. It was only accessible by a mokoro through the waterways, there are no roads here.
This time, when we heard the branches breaking, we got up to see where the elephants were, expecting them to be some way away – the sounds carry quite far in the silence of the Delta.
Instead the breeding herd was right there – by the toilet! In one of our pictures, it seems as if the elephant is actually IN the loo. We were extremely grateful that none of us had been using it at the time.
Again, it is not usual for them to get so close. The two women, Bush and Joyce, who were part of the poling team*, were trying to get a good look at the elephants and especially the babies, whilst also hiding behind big fallen trees and logs. We weren’t sure whether it was a good sign that even the locals were scared!
It did remind us not to take the experience – or safety – for granted. I think that so many people see images of ‘safaris’ and this sort of trip that it is easy to assume it’s really safe (especially from a culture that – rightly- has risk assessments, health and safety training etc and no dangerous animals to speak of).
Yes, we had a guide. Yes, these three days were organised rather than us doing it alone. But it was the wild. We heard lions roaring and hippos grunting very loudly at night, these elephants (not keen on our presence) coming within metres of us, and when we were on the sunrise or sunset walking safaris, we had to be alert. There were herds of buffalo (as well as other grazers: impala, giraffe, zebra), and, just around any corner could be lions on the hunt.
The entire trip was more magical for this reason. In some moments, our hearts sounded so loud, beating in our chest, and we could feel the adrenaline coursing through us.
Whilst the mokoros are a beautifully relaxing way to travel - slowly meandering through the clear waterways of the Delta, being deftly guided through the floating grasses, towering reeds and picturesque lily pads – we could not entirely relax as hippos and crocodiles are ever present.
At one point we could hear a cross between a gurgling, bubbling and a growling very close to the boat, and our guide said nonchalantly “yes, that is a hippo, it is under the water, just next to us, here”.
That was slightly too close for comfort. And, as we passed through the lagoons where the hippos like to spend their daytime, they turned their heads to view us, their beady eyes just above the waterline checking us out. Their gaze followed us, sometimes they would start to move and I’d feel slightly nervous – they move quite swiftly in the water for such enormous creatures – and their grunts are pretty fearsome, and extremely loud. I think they sound like a cross between the deep throaty noise of a cow mooing and an extremely large pig, grunting.
But this all helps these encounters and the experience feel exciting. Yes, in the moment, a little too exciting perhaps, but afterwards it feels quite an extraordinary thing to witness and – for a time – be a part of.
We did ask Super if many British people come on these longer mokoro safari trips, and apparently there are very few. He says it is usually Germans, Swiss, a few French – and when we wondered why that would be, he said that he hears that British tend to stay in the more luxury lodges when they do come to Botswana. “Perhaps” he said, “the British do not like the adventure”.
We were very grateful for the experience of the team that were supporting us and who we could learn from. Super has done a lot of training to become a guide, and has grown up in the area with a passion for the natural environment.
This passion was evident, he proffered so much information, answered every question that we had and – perhaps obviously – was incredible at spotting the wildlife.
I know I have mentioned this before, and I really believe that a brilliant guide adds so much to an experience – not just in the moment, but afterwards. Since that trip, we have appreciated everything that we have seen by ourselves so much more – we know names of birds and animals, can watch for their behaviour, and have a greater understanding of the land that we are spending time in.
The combination of travelling by mokoro, having walking safaris, driving ourselves and (when we returned to Maun) having a scenic flight, has provided us with so many perspectives – for example, it was fantastic to see from the air the animal trails and hippo walkways that we’d had pointed out to us on foot and by mokoro, as well as seeing herds of elephants and buffalo, so enormous to us when on foot, look so tiny from above.
The sunrise and sunset walks were a definite highlight. The light at 5:30am is mesmerising. A soft, golden haze gives the scene of animals all grazing peacefully an appearance of a painting.
The refreshing coolness of the air, mixed with the unmistakable smell of the dusty earth flooded my senses.
Gradually, sharper lines of shadow emerged as the sun rose and the heat intensified. By 8:30am it was no longer bearable to be walking and we’d retreat to the camp.
Lying down in the camp in the shade was a welcome relief, but the heat was severe. Too hot to lie in the tent as no breeze came through, and, for me, too hot to even sit on a small stool and the sweat just ran down my body and made me far too hot to sit. I resorted to lying on some rough canvas, directly on the floor, with a flannel soaked in water around my neck. (It was around 40/104 degrees whilst we were out there).
It made me so appreciative of the breeze when it did arrive, and the slightly cooler temperature from around 5pm – reminding me how much comfort I take for granted back home. Too hot? Turn down the heating or have a drink from the fridge, or put on a fan or air con (not possible wild camping!). Too cold? Put on more clothes and turn up the heating. Our comfort is – mostly – always within our reach. Here, we had to wait until a natural occurrence provided brief respite (or, made things worse!)
And then, just when I began to think it was too much, the breeze came, or suddenly, it was bearable again and I’d be able to enjoy the beautiful surroundings once more, and head out, excited again, to see what awaits.
And that is something really extraordinary about this experience – you never know what is waiting to surprise you and what the next day will bring. Nothing is guaranteed – no animal sighting or particular weather, and the unexpected is a pure joy. To exist in this world in this state, when many other parts of everyday life can seem so predictable (and often, welcome in their predictability), is exhilarating.
Next, with Penelope fixed and provisions all stocked, we headed back into the Delta, this time, by ourselves, to the famous parks of Moremi and Chobe. No signal for days, very few facilities and hopefully tons (literally) of incredible wildlife and a lot of peace and quiet. We’ll report again in the next blog.
*(the people who steer the mokoros are called polers, and we were with a team of five in total, so that all food, provisions and equipment for the three days could be transported).
P.S. If you’d like to receive notifications when the next adventure blog is up you can sign up here: https://mailchi.mp/charlottefowles/updates
P.P.S. If you haven’t checked out our beloved Penelope yet, I will shortly be adding some videos of the trip, too (just waiting to get to wifi that is good enough – happily we’ve been too remote up until now!). Pop over onto the YouTube channel and have a look:
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCRbSZPWB_Twv89FecOfNG2w
On there currently is an introduction to her and our set up.