A BOTSWANIAN SAFARI
From the hyenas to the honey badger, this landlocked country in Africa is a paradise for wildlife lovers
We’re in Botswana, a country known for the Kalahari Desert at its centre and the floodplains of the Okavango Delta in the north. It’s one of Africa’s most sought-after safari destinations teeming with desert-adapted wildlife such as oryx, springbok and bat-eared foxes and all manner of wetland loving creatures in the delta such as hippos, crocodiles, elephants, rhinos, lions, cheetah and wild dogs.
We’ve split our time between both the ecosystems and are replete with visions of spectacular mulled-wine sunrises and silvery moon sets, of monumental baobab trees and towering anthills, of athletic masterful kills and the charismatic wild animals.
Yet, the most memorable highlights of this safari have been of unexpected things that kept us all in splits, especially the three unlikely protagonists that will forever be lodged in my mind; the badgered badger, the suicide bird and the pizza hyena.
Honey badgers are known for their ferocity and relentlessness. There are endless stories of them arduously pursuing creatures that steal from them. Early one morning, in the vast Central Kalahari Game Reserve we saw a black and grey badger chase a jackal in full tilt. They sped in an arch through the silky bushman grass, but when the action stopped, we realised that quite the opposite was happening… The jackal was following the badger, expecting it to dig up rodents, geckos and scorpions that would pop out, and it could nab them. Nasty little scowling skunk-like badger, hissing and cursing and baring its teeth at us all could to nothing about being shadowed. Their dance of lunges, charges and nimblefooted escapes was utterly hilarious. The badger invariably gave a free meal to the jackal without wanting to, and we ended up sympathising with the poor badgered badger! The male red-crested korhaan is unspectacular. It’s a drab grey bird with a black belly and spindly legs, and I wouldn’t trouble my arms to raise the binoculars to my eyes for it… till John Barclay, who is guiding us, alerts us to what’s about to come; the korhaan begins its bizarre and utterly ludicrous mating ritual that has me doubled up guffawing till I nearly fall off the side of the jeep!
He trots around his ladylove, making clicking sounds with his beak that sound like a person snapping their fingers. Click click click he goes, his red crest unfurled, walking in circles, hunched and bent. The steps become erratic, he lurches forward and back, shaking and quivering while the female watches nonchalantly. The clicks become more and more frantic. And now, he takes flight, launching himself thirty metres into the air, and with his wings folded, he plummets straight down, as though he’s been shot. He comes zooming down like a kamikaze pilot on a death mission, and just before hitting the ground, he opens his wings and glides to a halt. All this to set her pulse racing…bet she’s having a secret fit of laughter at his lunacy!
We’re in the delta by a lagoon, sipping wine and having a cosy dinner with Matt and Robin who run Mombo, a stylish lodge on Chief’s Island in the Moremi Game Reserve. Everyone else is at a festive dinner around the corner…my husband has requested pizza for starters, and the steaming, thin-crusted pies begin to arrive, topped with olives, onions, peppers…we’re not the only ones anticipating them. A large grizzly head with big, round ears is staring at us over the next table. It’s a spotted hyena! He’s cheekily made it all the way up and around the wooden deck. Matt flies at him, clapping loudly, throwing things at him, shooing him away. The hyena darts and disappears into the darkness, but before long, he’s back. This happens over and over again, Robin shakes her head as we laugh at this unexpected juxtaposition of fine dining and a marauding predator.
‘That’s our troublesome pizza hyena’ she says. He can’t resist the smell of roasting cheese, and he shows up each time the pizza oven is fired!’