This small lodge, well situated within walking distance of Rosebank Mall in an upscale residential area of Johannesburg, stood out for its spacious and well appointed suites and offered many advantages for the independent traveler. In spite of being in a very big city inside the adult oriented lodge (guests with children 12 and older were welcome) there were few noises beyond the usual staff cleaning and other daytime sounds of a small guest house.
The single propeller plane had been droning for almost one hour over some of the flattest, emptiest land I had ever seen. Swirls of gleaming salt pans and dusty sand banks stretched to infinity, baked by a merciless sun. The pilot nodded to the right. “Jack’s Camp,” he informed me, dipping the wing to give me a better look. Beneath me a palm and acacia-studded oasis was emerging from the stark Kalahari wilderness. Large green safari tents were scattered among high savannah grass, hinting of creature comforts. Could this be a mirage?
The drive to Kichaka (Swahili for bush) of several hours from Plettenberg Bay, at the end of our Garden Route trip, was mostly easy highway driving and we were greeted warmly on arrival. Several staff members (Keith, the property manager, Charnel, our host that evening, and Francois, our field ranger and the head ranger at Kichaka) welcomed us as soon as we parked the car within the reserve just a few hundred meters from the N2 Highway.
A cluster of immaculate South African stone and thatch rondavels nestled in lush indigenous gardens, Idwala Guest House was an enclave of bucolic luxury in the middle of Johannesburg. Located on a quiet residential street of the elegant suburb of Darrenwood, an easy 30-minute drive from O.R. Tambo International Airport, Idwala (Zulu for rock) was an ideal retreat for a day of relaxation after my nightlong flight from Europe and before continuing on my journey further into Southern Africa.
While we were at Amakhosi it rained every day, on every drive. One day we returned so soaked, in spite of the rain ponchos and blankets provided in the safari vehicle, my boots took three days to dry out. And, yet the game viewing rewards were such that all the guests, children included, went out drive after drive in the cold and rain.
This was my first experience in the Okavango Delta. I couldn’t have wished for a better introduction to this unique landscape of papyrus-lined channels and water lily-filled lagoons weaving through shady glades and rich savannah grasslands than Nxabega Okavango Tented Camp. Set under a lush canopy of massive ebony trees in a remote 19,800 acre (8,000 hectare) concession, Nxabega (“place of the giraffe” in Basarwa, the language of the river bushmen) was an oasis of elegance and comfort in the heart of the Delta. From the instant the Cessna touched down, it was obvious that a fascinating adventure had begun. Exceptional rains had recently flooded the camp’s own airstrip; we had landed on a nearby, higher ground landing strip, my guide informed me in the course of his warm welcome. We would now drive a few miles to Nxabega; and by the way, a leopard guarding his freshly killed impala had been sighted earlier this morning near our route; would I care to make a short detour to look for it?
