I was last on this site a long time ago when the moderators were about ready to head to Botswana. The following report is a little long but so much exciting stuff happens in Botswana!

[color:"purple"]Aug 10-13 Duba Plains--4 nights[/color]
[color:"green"]Aug 14-15 Vumbura Plains-North--2 nights[/color]
[color:"red"]Aug 16-19 Zibalianja—4 nights[/color]

A link to photos will appear at the conclusion of the report. Food and accommodations at each camp were excellent. All staff and guides (Duba= James 007, Vumbura = Z, Zibalianja = BB) were outstanding.

[color:"purple"]This safari began with a bang! Literally. As the Sefofane charter with 8 of us aboard was about 10 minutes out from Duba Plains, I was startled out of my drowsy aerial sightseeing by a loud thud outside the right windshield of the plane. The pilot immediately informed us that we had hit a bird. The poor bird was the loser in that confrontation.

There was no additional excitement on the plane until we taxied down Duba’s airstrip after a safe landing. That’s when we saw it! One quarter of the Duba Plains wildebeest herd was migrating from one end of the airstrip to the other in a wild welcoming gallop. Then suddenly it was gone. “It” being the one wildebeest out of the herd of four. A few days later either that quarter of the herd or a different one-fourth would be spotted hanging out with the tsessebee.

Bridget, the hostess at Duba, gave me my welcome briefing in the gazebo overlooking a large marsh in front of camp. Throughout our conversation a Spur-winged goose kept flapping around, making itself quite conspicuous. I hoped its mate was not what the plane had knocked from the sky. After the briefing I hit the loo and was greeted with a lovely poster showing Botswana’s endangered birds. Of course I sat there speculating which one we may have obliterated. Not even an hour out of Maun and I had already violated the “leave only footprints, take only pictures” motto of eco-tourism.

My guide at Duba was James 007 and I have this forum to thank for that wonderful recommendation. This was the first time I had ever requested a private vehicle and guide. I made the request at the height of the excessive rains because I was concerned that with the extra water, getting to the lions at Duba might require an effort that I’d be willing to put forth but might not suit my potential vehicle-mates. The private vehicle turned out to be such a blessing but not for the reason I had intended.

Regardless of the number of people in the vehicle, if the buffalo move to an inaccessible part of the concession, the lions may follow, but the vehicles cannot. Even in drier years, it is not until late Aug or early Sept that the area known as Paradise can be reached by vehicle.

In fact, the day before I arrived a couple of guests had wanted to see the Skimmer Pride and went with the Mawalusy, the camp manager, to the far reaches of Duba Plains in search of them. They were successful, but on the way back the vehicle got stuck in the water, which required them to abandon it and wade through areas where they had earlier seen hippos and crocs. The rescue involved a tractor, which also got stuck, and another vehicle that brought them to safety. The woman came back to camp minus her soaked trousers, wearing one of those fashionable ponchos from the vehicle as a skirt.

So even a private vehicle could not get me to Paradise in mid-August. But I discovered a private vehicle was a necessity where lions hunt and interact with the buffalo primarily during the day, which is the rare case at Duba and Vumbura. If you wish to see that interaction you have to stick with the pride all day long and wait for them to make their move, which may not coincide with the morning or late afternoon game drives. Splurging for a private vehicle at Duba is some of the best money I ever spent.

After tea, I hopped into the “Bondmobile” with my guide, James 007, who had guided the Jouberts for two years in the making of Relentless Enemies and had taken Kenneth Newman, the bird book author, on seven safaris. “Wow,” I thought, “This is going to be an experience of a lifetime.” And it was for 10 minutes. That’s when the Bondmobile conked out. James did his best looking under the hood and checking wires, but it just wouldn’t start. Another vehicle pulled up next to us and I joined the couple and their guide and off we went.

About 30 minutes later we were enjoying a pair of bat eared foxes when James located us with his new vehicle. So I rejoined James and discovered the new vehicle was the one that had been abandoned in the water on the way back from the Skimmer pride. The plastic binocular/bird book/water bottle holders behind the seats were still filled with water! James was quite apologetic for the rocky start. Oh well, at least we were rolling now.

Whatever the breakdown did to delay or alter our route, it put us in the perfect spot for a first for both James and me. I saw movement at about 20 meters and suggested the creature looked doglike. James confirmed it was an aardwolf. I took a few photos and asked if we could try to get closer. James slowly approached and the aardwolf was quite relaxed going about its aardwolf business. It even stopped for a short snooze. We slowly moved closer and gauged the aardwolf’s reaction, which remained unconcerned. We ended up about 3 meters from it with unobstructed views in very good light and hung out with it for at least 15 minutes. James said he had never had such a good aardwolf sighting, nor had I, of course. (So there, Derek and Beverly Joubert!!)

My first afternoon and evening at Duba Plains proved to be ironic in its abundance of excellent canine sightings, as opposed to sightings of its famous felines. We came upon an open field of eight bat eared fox, all visible in a panoramic view. I had sundowners with eight bat eared fox! I discovered those little foxes do not offer an adequate silhouette with the setting sun in the background. So I deleted the bat eared fox sunset shots but did enjoy their company.

That night we spotted another aardwolf and some more bat eared fox. We stumbled upon just one lioness by accident as we were tracking the foxes in the spotlight. So that made for two aardwolves and a total of 13 bat eared fox in one outing—all in a land known for lions. I thought 13 bat eared fox might be exceptional, but was told that was common at Duba Plains and another vehicle had also seen 13 that day.

There was some notable campfire conversation that evening. I was sitting near a family of four and posed the often-asked question, “What brings your family to Botswana?” The mother shifted nervously and turned to her teenage son and said, “Do you want to answer?” He responded that he had chosen the destination and that the trip was sponsored by Make-A-Wish. (That is the charity that grants children with cancer a wish.) Now I was shifting nervously. He went on to indicate that he had been healthy for several years and then proceeded to talk enthusiastically about future college plans. That certainly put concerns about water levels, species wish lists, and bird ticks in perspective.
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In the morning James 007 discouraged any lingering at breakfast so that we could immediately begin our search for the lions in order to maximize our chances of seeing lion-buffalo interactions that can start taking place at sunrise.

We left camp and a couple of shy kudu bid us good morning before the hunt for the lions was on. We located the lone female from the night before. Soon she was joined by other Tsaro pride members: three lionesses, one 9-month old cub, and the two Duba boys. They waded through the water to make their entrance onto the scene. Two lactating lionesses of the pride were absent because they spent time each day tending to their cubs that were hidden far away. Because Silver Eye (one of the lionesses with a pupil-less eyeball, the result of an eye infection) was known to kill the pride’s cubs, the introduction of new cubs was being delayed until the cubs were more mature.

The pride neared the herd of about 600 buffalo, which concealed itself in thick brush. The buffalo herd was split with the majority of the 1900 in inaccessible areas. So the waiting game began for the lions and for us. The lions rested in nearby shade. If we sought shade, it would obscure our view of the lions and buffalo, so we endured the sun and waited for six hours.

During that time there were some nice views of the cub nursing. We also saw fish eagles clasp talons and plummet several hundred feet from the sky before soaring upward side by side. I finished a chapter The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency--Morality for Beautiful Girls. I am hooked on these wonderful books! Lunch and our sundowner snack for later was delivered by vehicle.

James also provided some entertainment with safari tales and his imitation of small aircraft sounds. Now that helicopters are also used, he had added the thump-thump-thump of the helicopter to his sound effects repertoire. It was during one of these conversations waiting for lion-buffalo action that James produced the Quote of the Trip. He recounted some advice he had given to a friend who was trying to overcome some character flaws. James said, “I told him ‘Try yourself to change.’” No sooner had he uttered those words of wisdom than I knew “Try yourself to change” was the Quote of the Trip.

Finally, the buffalo herd was on the move and the lions were in pursuit. Then we heard what James called the waterfall sounds. The buffalo were moving through the water. Since the water they had entered marked the edge of Tsaro’s territory, this posed a problem for the pride. If the buffalo left their territory, Tsaro would not be able to hunt them in Skimmer’s territory because it would provoke a fight between prides.

Time for some buffalo herding! The lions went to work, fanning out and charging the buffalo to redirect them. When the herd is threatened they band together and face the lions and that is exactly what happened. Even the buffalo that had started to walk and swim across the channels turned around and came back to join the herd. The lions’ strategy had worked perfectly. And it had provided me with some of the thrilling interactions I had hoped to witness. The buffalo were now moving away from the boundary and back into the heart of Tsaro territory.

The remainder of the day we watched the lions continue to follow the buffalo, sometimes stalking them, but not seriously since they had killed the day before I arrived and were not that hungry. While following the lions and buffalo, we had some other nice sightings: a pair of honey badgers, several side striped jackals, and another aardwolf that would have been my best aardwolf sighting to date had it not been for the previous day’s close aardwolf encounter.

We found an elephant in must whose secretions were quite foul smelling. He was trying to knock over trees so we kept our distance. We also found a small breeding herd. James said that usually the elephants start coming in around late July but this year they had arrived at least a month early.

One lucky sighting occurred when James stopped briefly to make a call on the radio. He saw some movement in the grass next to the vehicle and announced, “It’s a serval!” We had excellent views of this favorite of mine at close range.

After 12 hours in the bush, we headed back to camp and encountered the shy kudus from the morning.

That night at the bar I met one of the many people who work behind the scenes to make our safari experience so exceptional. I met the exterminator. He goes to over 60 Botswana camps each year for his work and visits each camp about 4 times a year. With that in mind, I asked his favorite camps to which he replied, “Duba Plains and Savuti Camp.”
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The kudus again sent us off for another full day at Duba. En route to the lions we saw two of the side-striped jackals that were everywhere. We found the whole Tsaro pride with all nine members present, making its way through the channels of water to approach the buffalo. We were able to find some shade today while following the lions. In fact I enjoyed an hour catnap after lunch in the vehicle, surrounded by lions in the shade of palm branches. James remained vigilant.

Throughout the day the lions kept tabs on the buffalo, moving when the herd moved and resting when the buffalo sat down. It was when the herd was in motion that 90% of the kills took place. The buffalo were less vulnerable when sitting because it was harder for the lions to cut one weak member out of the herd, away from the protection of the group. One lioness had a single encounter with a male who strayed from the herd, but the pride made no serious attempts on the herd.

After two days without eating, I figured the lions would be getting hungry but James informed me that with only one half-grown cub to feed, it was not necessary to kill often. A pride with many weaned cubs to feed must kill more frequently.

A highlight of the day was provided by a flock of black egrets. It is their practice to hunt for fish by making an umbrella out of their wings so that fish swimming beneath them are suddenly thrust into darkness and become disoriented. James had told me of this phenomenon at our first black egret sighting and even pointed out a picture of it in Newman’s book. So when we rounded a bend and came upon all these black turtle-looking creatures in the water I immediately knew what was happening. The black egrets were fishing! We observed this fascinating behavior for quite some time. I took photos of what appeared to be black turtle-looking creatures.

Then we ran into our serval friend again a couple times near where we had seen her yesterday. We knew it was a she because her subadult kitten was nearby. In total, we would have four close serval sightings in three days.

I had to chuckle at my boxed lunch today. It contained a delicious salad, which of course needed salad dressing. With no little McDonald’s salad dressing packets on hand, an entire bottle of oil and another of vinegar were packed with saran wrapped around their pour spouts.

Then we discovered that my utensils were missing. I offered to scoop the salad up with my spring rolls, but James had a better idea. He would provide me with a “bush fork,” which was a 6-inch spear whittled from a palm bush stem. What a novel idea! I suggested that all packed lunches that required utensils should have these “bush forks” instead of regular knives and forks for a more authentic experience. Of course really authentic is eating with your hands.

I was so enamored with my bush fork that I wanted to request a set of service for eight. Thinking that might be excessive whittling for James, I trimmed my request to 4 bush forks. James obliged and I acquired some great souvenirs. Of course I had to remember to check these four mini-spears in my luggage and not include such weapons in my carry-on.

There was a bit of drama today within the Tsaro pride. When the lions and I awoke from our nap, the cub continued sleeping and was left behind as the pride pursued the buffalo. His absence was not noted until about 5:30 pm when we heard the call of a jackal from the direction where the cub was last seen. His mother immediately reacted to the jackal call and turned toward the palms where the cub had been left. She started calling softly and backtracking. James said the mother’s a reaction was due more to the fact that jackal’s calls meant night was near than any danger imposed by the jackal itself.

Another lioness saw the mother’s behavior and started trotting back to the palms also. I thought I detected a look of concern on these two lionesses’ faces. James confirmed that they were worried. Soon the cub became visible and the three lions ran toward each other for a happy reunion. The day ended happily for them and with some white tailed mongoose and a civet in the spotlight on our night drive, it ended happily for me too.

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As we headed out for Duba Day 3, I noticed our friendly but elusive kudus were absent and hoped that the luck they had brought the previous days would not be absent as well. We discovered that the buffalos had split into three herds of about 400, 600, and 900, all within the Tsaro pride’s territory. The lions were spilt also, between the largest two herds. That posed a problem if there was to be any hunting today. Which lions would we watch and would we miss the action by choosing the “wrong” group?

That problem was soon solved when the lions near the smaller of the two herds retreated and started heading in the direction of the larger herd and the other Tsaro members. But the cub was part of this relocating group and he was more interested in stalking his mother and running around than regrouping with the pride. They covered little ground.

We returned to the lions with the larger herd and followed them into thick brush that offered some shade. Time for naps. The buffalo sat down to rest in the thicket, the lions slept, and I dozed in their midst, glad to be out of the hot sun. As usual, James remained on alert. Suddenly the trumpeting of an elephant startled both the lions me and we were jolted awake. The lions responded with a roar and I groggily asked, “What’s going on?” James assured me all was fine. Apparently the elephant had stumbled upon the sleeping cats while wandering through the thick brush.

Eventually the lions with the cub found their pridemates and Tsaro was in full force. The buffalo got up and were moving into the open. Things started to look interesting as the lions began stalking an old bull with one deformed horn who had visible injuries between his legs (most likely from an earlier attack) This bull lagged behind the herd.

Any potential lion attack was thwarted by both the herd’s slow movement allowing the laggard to catch up and by the more amorous of the two Duba males. When Silver Eye would advance stealthily towards the bull, the Duba Boy would undermine her efforts by plodding up in full view to come courting. Apparently Silver Eye had lost her cub not long ago and the male believed she was in estrus. We never saw any actual mating.

Then James pointed out that two big bulls seemed to be so intent on their grazing that they were separating from the herd. We watched as the herd moved farther and farther away and the lions were watching too. They crouched, intent on the two males. Then the females slowly positioned themselves in a semi-circle around the two buffalos, taking care to remain hidden. Even the cub was stalking. These fascinating maneuvers took about an hour and James had us in position to see it all unfold. Every cat was in place. James predicted when the bulls tried to rejoin the herd--that was now out of sight--the lions would pounce, concentrate on one buffalo and allow the other to flee to safety. What a brilliant plan these lions had crafted. If executed successfully it would mean dinner.

Suddenly two warthogs poked through the brush about three meters from two lionesses. Both lions and warthogs were caught off guard. The two lions sprang to action and darted after the warthogs. Those little pigs ran for their lives right past our vehicle with lions in tow and drew two more lions into the pursuit. The warthogs escaped and the lions were spent from the chase. The two bulls were still isolated but now the lions seemed oblivious to their plight.

The pride never regrouped for battle and just relaxed at the edge of the thicket with the buffalos well behind them. We watched as the buffalos made their move to join the herd. They ran from behind the thicket and moved adjacent to the pride of lions, but were obscured from the pride by some termite mounds. Eventually they came into view and one of the female lions gave chase but her heart was not in it. The two lucky bulls soon were absorbed into the herd.

It was the heat of the day now, about 2:30 pm. The entire pride moved to a new island of brush that offered shade and the buffalo continued to move away from the lions. When there was about 1000 meters between them, the lions stood up and slowly advanced toward the buffalo so as not to lose track of them.

Eventually we were joined by another vehicle on an afternoon game drive and they watched the pride until it made its way to heavy brush just behind the herd. James maneuvered our vehicle into the brush and we sat with the pride. “They’re stalking,” he observed, and pulled forward. We stayed behind the lions so as not to impede their views of the buffalo. Sure enough about three females were low to the ground, ears back, and inching forward.

Five minutes later we heard the sounds of buffalo stampeding and bellowing. The lionesses slipped out of sight and James was racing through the thick brush cautioning me to duck for branches. As we pulled to a clearing we could see a lioness on top of a buffalo. He went down in seconds. It was Silver Eye who had initiated the kill. James simultaneously positioned the vehicle for a good view of the scene and radioed the other drivers. In an instant Silver Eye was joined by her suitor who rushed in to suffocate the dying beast.

The vehicle that had left moments ago returned to see the remaining lions jump onto the rear of the bull. One of the lionesses was so excited that she leaped back and forth across the carcass as if she were jumping rope. A third vehicle arrived to witness the buffalo’s last moments. James stated that this bull died as quickly as any he had ever seen, with very minimal suffering, for which I was thankful. We soon discovered the crooked horn and realized it was the wounded bull that Silver Eye had been stalking earlier.

Back to the third vehicle—this was two couples who had just arrived in Africa for their first safari and had just begun game drive #1. The lion kill was their introduction to the bush. Rather than considering this an amazing stroke of luck, they became upset and immediately asked to leave. (I still remember my first sight in the bush—it was a browsing giraffe, followed by lots of passive zebra and some silly baboons. If my first sight had been a bloody kill, I might have been taken aback also.)

I was thrilled to have observed such an amazing event in nature and James was just as excited. After all, it was his expertise, driving skills, and judgment that allowed us to witness the lion kill. Once we were stationary and able to observe, James hopped behind the driver seat and sat next to me for a better view. We joked that we would check at dinner to see if any of the guests that left were vegetarians. They were not.

The entire pride minus one Duba Boy fed on the carcass. The missing Duba Boy kept his distance because with Silver Eye in heat, the brothers who were normally allies, were at odds and fought for the right to mate.

When the light died we left the lions and returned to camp, spending only 11 hours in the bush today. Those kudu that were missing this morning were waiting for me outside my tent when I got back. I caught just a fleeting glimpse of three females.

That evening I enjoyed the company of another woman traveling alone. She had rented a car by herself and driven through Namibia on a fabulous 2-week excursion before coming to Duba Plains (and witnessing the lion kill). She also had bungee jumped at Victoria Falls and was considering a repeat of that adventure in Cape Town, since the Cape Town jump is the highest in the world and Vic Falls ranks #2. Amazing, especially since she was in my age range (40-50) and not a kid. My holiday of three 5-Paw or better Botswana camps seemed quite tame by comparison. And that was fine with me.
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Knowing this was my last day with James 007 made for a bittersweet morning drive. We checked the buffalo carcass and found one lioness licking the remains. The rest of the pride was lounging in the bushes. We saw the only hyenas I would see at Duba, which were two individual sightings miles apart. More canines appeared—pairs of side-striped jackals and bat eared fox.

We came upon a slightly distressing scene. A Blacksmith Plover was flapping and hopping about near a water monitor that was quite a ways from water. Upon investigation we discovered that the eggs the plover had been tending for days were missing. The plover had laid these eggs on the road and each guide carefully swerved off the track to avoid crushing them. The previous day we had even stopped for pictures of the Blacksmith Plover sitting next to the eggs. The care exhibited by the drivers ended up not benefiting the plover, but benefiting the water monitor. I suggested that the Jouberts be summoned back to Duba for another “Enemies” documentary—Plovers vs. Monitors.

Other interesting birds at Duba were the Collared Barbet, the Pink Throated Longclaw with good views of the pink throat, the Crested Francolin, and Long-toed Plover. Four ground hornbills were also a nice find.

We spent most of our time that morning with the smallest herd of buffalo that were far from the lions and therefore could relax as they grazed. But we knew they would not graze peacefully for long.

I detected some urgent radio chatter midmorning. When I asked what had been spotted, James informed me four giraffe that ventured over from Vumbura had been seen. Funny what causes a stir in different locations. There are no giraffe at Duba so this was a big deal. Nor are there any impala or zebra.

When at last it came time to depart, James and I waited at the airstrip. But the only airplane sounds were James impressions, which were surprisingly accurate, but fell short of getting me to my next camp. Then a call came on the radio that the flight had been delayed 2 and a half hours. So back to camp, fortunately only a few minutes away, for another look at Tent #2, which was lovely. I can see no advantage or disadvantage to any tent location of this small picturesque, small camp.

I gazed over to where the lions had made the kill the previous day, which was not far from camp, and noticed the first vultures I had seen during my stay. About six were circling, but I would have expected more of a vulture presence with all the lion activity.

I don’t know if a 4-night stay qualifies me for dispensing advice on traveling to Duba Plains, but here is my two cents: If you wish to see the beautiful Duba environment, some lions, some buffalo, and some of the other animals and birds in this concession, then a 2-night stay is probably sufficient. Three nights is a safer for bet for lion viewing because when I asked James how long the lions are absent when they head to inaccessible areas, he replied a day or two.

However, if your goal is lions and buffalo interacting, with perhaps a lion kill, I think 4 nights is the minimum, with 5 being what I’d recommend and what I would do next time. Also, I believe a private vehicle is a must to observe lion-buffalo interactions, since you may need to remain with the lions throughout the day and you cannot count on other guests wanting to do that. I consider a private vehicle a luxury beyond my means for most Botswana camps. But for Duba Plains it was a sound investment that paid off in lion-buffalo interactions unique to this region.

Finally, a pair of thin white gloves to protect your hands from the sun when sitting without protection for 5-6 hours would be a good idea, especially later in the dry season when it is even hotter.

The four days I spent at Duba Plains were the most exciting days I’ve had in a vehicle on safari. Maybe not the most varied or prolific game viewing (though darn good), but it was the most intense.
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[color:"green"]Two and a half hours of waiting for the 5-minute Duba to Vumbura plane ride—now there’s irony. If I could have gotten a running start, I could have just leaped over to Vumbura. Apparently later in the dry season it is possible to drive between camps. Both guides at Duba and Vumbura indicated that the drive can be very productive gamewise, so that could be a rewarding option.

Eventually I was airborne for a few minutes. When we de-planed and made our way to the vehicles waiting at the Vumbura airstrip, Z came to greet me and immediately stated, “It is just you and me during your stay.” What luck! Another private vehicle--but this one without the surcharge!

Z went on to suggest, “I think tomorrow we should stay out all day.” Of course I agreed, even more amazed my good fortune. But it got better.

Next Z asked if the other vehicle could go in front of us, so it could head to tea. We, on the other hand, would skip tea and just head out for our afternoon in the bush and come back in time for dinner, if that was ok. At that point I concluded the “Z” must stand for zealot because this guy was nuts! And I was lucky to get him. I and knew we’d have a splendid couple of days at Vumbura.

I requested lechwe and Z located some herds. We spent a good deal of time with them, which was fortunate because that was my only opportunity to see them in numbers. There was so much water around that they wandered far out of the range of our vehicles. I asked Z what month of the year would usually have these current water levels. He stated late May. It was mid-August.

Z made a good suggestion. Since I had originally booked Little Vumbura, but had been upgraded to Vumbura Plains, he asked if I’d like to experience the boat ride to LV and see the camp. I agreed that would be a nice way to have a brief water activity, since Vumbura is known for water activities. I got quite the water activity, but long before we boarded the LV shuttle! We got stuck in a channel with water creeping to the very top of the vehicle. Z hopped out and worked diligently to increase the traction by shoving big sticks and branches under the vehicle. My job was to watch for crocs. I also watched a herd of giraffes watching Z wade around the vehicle. Fifteen minutes and zero crocs later we were underway again.

The transport to LV, and all of the boat activities, was in a large rowboat with a motor. There were no mekoros. It was a peaceful and pleasant 10 minutes through a wide channel with papyrus and reeds, and some water lilies. Eva, the LV manager, greeted us, offered a beverage, and showed us around the camp--a truly charming place, with nice views of the surrounding water environment. She could not show me any rooms because they were all taken (by the folks who had kicked me out!) As we departed Little Vumbura and returned to the dock there was a pink sunset that I could observe from the water.

Z informed me that the boat outings lasted a couple of hours and were done instead of a game drive. They were similar to what I had experienced, only longer. He said that the boat rides were unlikely to produce any game sightings but were quite relaxing and enjoyable. Finally, he mentioned that usually LV game drives returned before dark so that the boat transfer would take place while there was still light.

The night drive back to Vumbura Plains-North produced an African Wildcat and a Civet. I arrived after dark so the view from camp would remain a mystery until morning. My orientation and introduction (made by Linda of the Linda-Richard managing team) was completed as the staff was beginning a traditional performance. The modern waiver of liability I was signing juxtaposed with the traditional drumming, singing, and dancing in front of me presented an interesting contrast. The performance was followed by a traditional African meal served outside.

When it was time to retire, I trekked with an escort to my palace. It was a trek and it was a palace. I was in #7, the last tent/palace, which was a very long walk mostly on raised platforms, but at times descending onto the ground for about four meters before the railed wooden walkway resumed. For anyone with trouble getting around, a tent near the dining area should be requested. On the other hand, for anyone who would like to do an unguided walking safari, this offers the opportunity. You can really get some exercise in beautiful surroundings. (I was told Vumbura Plains-South was identical in layout and tents.)

My palace was even larger than most since I had the family unit, consisting of two huge tents with an adjoining deck, complete with a private pool (all tents have the private pools). All told, it was far more square footage than my home! While I only glanced at the auxiliary palace across the deck, it appeared to be as finely appointed and attractive as the “mothership” palace. I would describe the decorating theme as striking, spacious, innovative, and most definitely 6-Paw.

In the middle of the night I awoke when nature called. I decided to forgo the lights and make my way in the darkness. Not that turning on the lights was a problem. On the headboard of the bed was a reading light as well as a panel of light switches that looked like the console from the Starship Enterprise.

After quite a hike, I discovered I was not at my destination; I had stumbled into the spacious shower, a place so big you could turn two cartwheels and still remain within the curtained shower plaza. Realizing where I was, I did an about face to retrace my steps. I was sure I was getting close when I scared myself by my own reflection in the full-length mirror, illuminated by moonlight and outdoor lanterns. At last victory was mine and I conquered the loo and headed back to bed for a comfortable night’s sleep.
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When I awoke, the beautiful view of those plains from Vumbura Plains, which had been hidden by darkness when I arrived, became evident. Breakfast was light, but offered a larger selection than other camps, including a cheese platter—another 6-Paw perk.

Z and I were off for our full day of adventure, which began with a check of the lion pride, known as Kubu. It consisted of five lionesses and four young males, all sporting the first signs of a mane. One of the females had given birth to an all boy brood of four and now they were teenagers. This pride was in beautiful shape, especially the four young males. Their coats were flawless with not a single scar or mark.

Our vehicle, along with a few others, was nearing the lions. We got a radio call that it appeared the lions were hunting the nearby buffalo. (This pride also hunts regularly in the day, just like the Duba lions. Z said day hunts reduced hyena interference.) Z quickly explained some Vumbura ground rules. Only three vehicles are allowed at any sight so only three could follow the hunt. There were four vehicles in the area, therefore he asked if I would be willing to join a family in their vehicle, bringing the total number of vehicles back to three. That was fine. I made the vehicle switch and headed off to the hunt with my new vehicle-mates, a very enthusiastic family of three.

Later Z explained the potential downside of the private vehicle especially if there were numerous in the area. He said that if those who paid for a private vehicle refused to join others, thereby reducing the total number of vehicles, then that private client could find himself waiting in the wings for two hours or more to see a good sight.

There was lots of strategizing, crouching, and stalking among the five lionesses that was modeled far less effectively by the four young males. It was quite exciting to watch as the hunt played out in the brush separated by the occasional clearing. After about an hour the lions made their move. They rushed forward out of our sight, while the buffalo stampeded and bellowed alarm calls. One loud call was especially chilling. We were on the scene in moments to find several bewildered lions milling about but no buffalo, except those in a distant cloud of dust. The guides believed the lions had jumped a buffalo, but that it had gotten away.

I rejoined Z, who had been tracking a leopard during our separation, but was not successful in locating it. Z suggested we find the lion pride, which had retired under a Kalahari Green Apple tree, and wait for their next attempt on the buffalo that he believed would occur before sunset.

I thought my days of napping with the lions had ended with my departure from Duba Plains. But here I was again with my feline friends, able to take a midday snooze. How delightful. The vegetation of Vumbura provided lots of comfortable shade for the lions and for us. Z busied himself with a book on constellations during my little nap.

In the five and a half hours that we waited and chatted, I learned part of the inspiring tale behind Z becoming a guide. His uncle worked for Xigera back when it had only outside drop toilets and his uncle’s job was to clean those loos. Eventually the uncle found a better job at Xigera. But a prerequisite of the new job was finding someone to fill the old job. He asked Z, who had left school to help his parents support his sizeable family. So Z’s career in the bush began with the Xigera loos. After about six weeks he was promoted to “leave raking and lanterns.” From there it was bartender at another camp. Obviously his magnetic personality was found to be better suited for interaction with the guests than with loos or lanterns. While bartending he studied for his guiding license and picked the brains of the guides he knew. He still remembered the favorite drink of Eyes on Africa’s Nicky from those bartending days! Hard work and perseverance paid off and here was Z sitting with the lions and me, doing a job he loved and at which he excelled.

With my prompting, Z also recounted a tale of the most bizarre incident in his guiding career. (I always like to ask guides about their most bizarre client/guiding/game-viewing incident and I am usually amazed at the responses.)

Here’s how it went: A couple arrived at camp and asked Z to come to their tent because they had a present for him and Z obliged. But instead of a gift, the husband opened up a case and removed what looked like miniature toy car. The man explained that he planned to mount a camera on the rover and maneuver it by remote control so that close-ups of the wildlife could be taken. Wrong! Z immediately informed him this was not allowed and he could not bring the device. Z also expressed his puzzlement to me about what this guy considered a gift. Showing off your own contraptions to others is not usually considered presenting a “gift.” But this guy was full of misconceptions.

The first day out Z noticed that the wife would try to distract him with photo questions or requests to position the vehicle so that the husband, who sat in back, could try to exit the vehicle. Z put an end to that routine and issued a stern warning to them.

The next day while viewing lions, the wife again became quite inquisitive and engaged Z in conversation as a ruse. Suddenly Z heard the whirring sound of a small motor and spun around to see the mini rover rolling over to where the lions were sleeping. The guy was doing a test run in anticipation of mounting the camera. Well, the lions also heard this foreign sound and immediately pounced on the rover. (Funny, lions are oblivious to a huge Land Rover full of chatty tourists wearing hats, extending monopods and pointing big lenses. Once a nearby vehicle’s horn even sounded for several seconds, which resulted in no more than a disgusted look from the lions. But this little rover got their attention.) The guy continued to activate the remote so that the rover’s wheels were spinning in the lion’s mouth. The lion freaked and flung down the rover and gave it a swat. End of rover. The guy was near tears and Z was furious. The guy even had the gall to ask to get out of the vehicle and retrieve the remains of the rover. Request denied and Z immediately drove them back to camp where the couple had the riot act read to them by the camp managers. They were threatened with “deportation” from camp. Apparently it made an impression and Z said they were model guests the rest of the trip.
(Pardon the digression)

Anyway—back to the lions—at about 2:45 they ended their naptime, sat up, rubbed faces with one another, and set out to hunt the nearby buffalo that had just started getting up from their siesta. The lions slinked their way through the Kalahari Green Apple Trees that obscured the buffalo and we followed. The herd began a stampede when several lions sprung from their crouched positions. We arrived upon the scene just after the bellows ceased, even before the young males appeared, to see one lioness with a struggling buffalo calf. The other lions soon rushed in and the calf was dead within seconds. In a 10-minute time frame the lions went from sound asleep to stalking and killing a buffalo. Z was right; they did hunt again that day.

For an hour and a half we watched the pride devour the small carcass with occasional internal squabbles and growling and then we moved off. I asked Z if there would be a panicked mother buffalo, who could not find her calf. He told me that not until evening when the mothers and calves paired up for the night would the loss be discovered. I did think of the mother buffalo that evening as the sun set.

But between leaving the lions and nightfall, there was more to be seen at Vumbura. Z spotted the African Hoopoe, my favorite bird. We enjoyed a pair of wattled cranes sunning themselves. We also came upon a couple of male kudu and watched them browse. They obligingly displayed their attractive striped bodies and their massive curled horns. I got my best kudu shots to date.

We saw an African Wildcat and genet on the night drive and were about to enter camp for the conclusion of a 12-hour day when Z stopped and commenced the star safari portion of our outing. He pointed out numerous constellations other than the Southern Cross and Scorpio, which even I can routinely spot. We arrived in camp and I expected to head to my tent with an escort, but there was still more to come. Z was focusing the telescope so we could get a better look at some of the stars that made up the constellations we had just viewed with the naked eye. The star safari continued with Z enthusiastically explaining the beautiful night sky.

Eventually I freshened up and was escorted back from my tent to the bar where my request for white wine produced several options and a sample to see if it met with my approval. The weather had turned cooler so on each chair in the dining lounge was a thick brown robe for guests to wear while dining. There were choices in each course for dinner, with one choice being a vegetarian option. The meal was served in sit-down rather than buffet style. Between the starter and main course, sorbet was the pallet cleanser. All of this is part of the “6-Paw Silver Service.” It made for an elegant experience after a day in the bush. But the part of this “Silver Service” that mattered most to me was yet to come.

Boysen, a Vumbura manager, dined next to me that evening. The terrorist plot involving chemicals had just been uncovered and dinner conversation turned toward the new strict carryon regulations. I expressed some of my concerns about potentially being unable to take my cameras or even memory card with me. At that point, the information that had filtered to the bush was only a plastic bag with money and passport would be allowed. Nothing else. Nothing in pockets, etc.

Boysen overheard my concerns and immediately offered me a solution. He told me that the camp routinely downloads digital camera memory cards onto their computer and burns CDs (at a nominal cost for the CD) for guests. In addition, the camp retains the photos for one month, just in case there is a problem of any kind. I learned there had been two instances when the Vumbura backup files were needed by a guest.

I ended up taking full advantage of this service using more disk space, more CDs, and more time of all three managers than would be expected by the average guest, all due to an “inventory error” on my part in accounting for my several memory cards and what was on them. In addition to Boysen burning CDs into the night for me, I barged (as politely as one can barge) into the manager’s office the next day shortly before my plane’s departure in somewhat of a panic with more memory card download requests. Managers Linda and Richard were there and were delighted to drop everything and assist me. We had a pleasant conversation during the additional downloading and I was even offered popcorn. From my perspective, it appeared they had been waiting there all morning for me and my urgent request. Of course we all know that’s not true, which makes this all the more impressive. With such uncertainty at the airport, this backup offered me tremendous peace of mind and all three managers played an integral role in making me literally a happy camper.

My mind may have rested easy that night, but a strong, cold, howling wind made for fitful sleep. It was still cold when we set off in the morning. During the night the Kubu pride had killed again, right outside North camp’s Tent #1. We checked out the remains and watched the lions have an after dinner drink in a shallow pool (not Tent #1’s plunge pool.) Next we headed to more wooded areas where the animals would be seeking shelter from the wind. There was some nice giraffe and zebra activity and I even bested the previous night’s best kudu shots. Seeing sable in only a 2-night stay seemed a bit much to hope for, but we had nice views of one big bull sable having his breakfast.

Z (living up to his Z for zealot name) had suggested we stay out all morning and arrive at the airstrip just in time to get the most out of our morning. The cold winds and my memory card fiasco only slightly altered that plan. Too soon it was time to leave Vumbura. This was the first time I tried a 2-night stay at a Botswana camp. I will revert to my 3+ night plan in the future. But, with the help of Z, I made the most of those 44 hours.

[/color][color:"red"]Flying from Vumbura to the Selinda airstrip takes 40 minutes. With the tremendous tailwinds we made it in 20, which was 10 minutes before anyone would be expected to be waiting at the airstrip. Soon enough BB arrived and we drove the short distance to Zibalianja where I met Stewart and Tessa, the enthusiastic new managers.

Now, before I left home, I responded to a post from a Fodorite who had asked about the Selinda area and mentioned she’d be at Zib for two nights about the same time I would be there. Well, there was a woman sitting in the reception area and I discovered she had just spent two nights. So I thought it was worth a shot and I walked over and posed the question, “Did you post a thread on Fodors asking about Selinda?” Sure enough she had and I had met my second Africa Forum Fodorite while traveling in Africa in as many years!

We had a lovely conversation (what else would Fodorites have?) about her previous stop in Hwange working with a wild dog project, her days in Selinda, her next stop that would include horseback riding, and our respective stays at Duba Plains. When she mentioned she had traveled to Southern Tanzania, the conversation ended and the interrogation began. I whipped out my pen and paper and started firing questions, which she graciously answered as I recorded.

After tea I was off for the first game drive with three members of a birding foursome. It was a rather quiet evening so the bird action was welcome. There were several really beautiful lagoons with Pelicans, Sacred and Glossy Ibis, Spoonbills, Open-billed Storks, Yellow-billed Storks, Saddle Bills, a Purple Heron, many Squacco Herons, Slaty Egrets, several other egrets, Cormorants, a Common Moorhen, a Ruff, a Wood Sandpiper, and even a Marsh Harrier that followed the vehicle when we drove off.

Then a call on the radio came in and BB asked if we would like to try to see a cheetah that had been spotted, but was a long ways away and would likely mean no sundowners. I was surprised this actually generated a discussion of the options. What’s to discuss?? There’s a cheetah out there!! Step on it BB!! At least that’s my thinking. I wanted my views to be known so I stated for all to hear, “I always favor viewing wildlife over stopping and drinking, just so you know where I stand.”

We agreed to try to find the cheetah and BB raced like the wind with expert driving skills. The flat open plains of Selinda meant we could see the two vehicles near the cheetah from a long ways off. Then we could even make out the cheetah. It was getting exciting! BB delivered us in time and the light was perfect. So was the cheetah. We watched her as she sat near a lagoon. Eventually she stood up, yawned, stretched and headed off. We followed he for a few minutes, then let her be.

The road back to camp was long and with the whipping wind, very cold. But it was not too cold for the caracal that crossed the road. BB drew our attention to it immediately and spotlighted it when it stepped out of the high grass. Not a great view, but good enough to see it was definitely dark red in color and there was something gray going on around the ears that were the tufts. I’ve always wanted to see a caracal and this was the first one ever. BB said it was the first he had seen in at least two months.

A cheetah in nice light and a quick sighting of a caracal at night—pretty good for a quiet outing of bird watching!

I had finished breakfast the morning of my first full day at Zibalianja and wandered over to the vehicle, which was parked near the home of a dwarf mongoose colony. The mongoose were still asleep but BB was up and ready to go. He told me he had heard hyena that morning, which likely meant the wild dogs were near. Our best chance for seeing them was to get moving. Since I knew three of the four birders really wanted to see the dogs and this was their last day, I quickly informed everybody that BB had heard hyenas and we needed to get going for a good chance to see the dogs. “Oh,” was the reaction but it was not accompanied with a dash to the vehicle.

As of mid-August when I was there, the Selinda people believed the wild dog den was somewhere in Duma Tau’s concession. Most days the pack of 14 would hunt in the Selinda concession, but there could be several days when the pack was not seen. The Selinda vehicles worked together to locate the dogs and share viewings. There was not a warm feeling towards the Duma Tau folks. The border wars were still in effect during my stay.

Game viewing that morning produced some nice kudu views, a herd with 5 to 7 week old giraffes, a black backed jackal, a couple of lone elephants drinking in a couple of ponds, 4 ground hornbills, and wild dog tracks that BB thought were under an hour old. We could have had a shot at the wild dogs that morning. We saw herds of tsessebee, zebra, and buffalo. At times the buffalo could be seen in back of camp too.

Our birding included the Martial, Fish, and Tawny Eagles. Also the Collared Palm Thrush (trying to share some of our brunch), the Red-winged Pratincole, Red-crested Korhan, Grey Hornbill, and a couple of Purple-eared Waxwings in light that revealed their brilliant colors. There were Secretary Birds and Kori Bustards everywhere. We even saw a flying secretary bird and one eating a lizard. A couple pairs of the beautiful lilac breasted rollers had nests at camp.

The sweet at tea that day was a chocolate filled pastry. The only way I could limit my intake of those tasty pastries was if I knew I could experience them again—like for breakfast. So I asked Rose, the server, to please save some for me for breakfast the next day. The pastry plays a big role in the next day’s game viewing.

As we headed out on the afternoon drive, the birders told BB they really wanted to see the wild dogs. His response was intriguing. He stopped the vehicle, got out, and bent down next to some wild dog tracks. He touched his finger in the middle of one of the tracks and stated he was employing African magic to help find them. I told the birders that I often see what I hope for at the last minute, so I’d employ my luck along with the magic. (Getting an early start doesn’t hurt either.)

Despite our best efforts and BB’s magic, we did not see any wild dogs, just a pair of hyenas.
--------------------

Day 3 at Zibalianja was dawning and I had no idea the excitement that would be in store, but I knew I’d have my chocolate pastries for breakfast. Munching my pastry, I gazed out over the savanna while everyone else was dishing up their breakfast. I saw numerous running shapes. They had big ears. They were the wild dogs running about 250 meters from camp. I set started jumping up and down yelling, “The dogs, it’s the dogs, there go the wild dogs!” Suddenly the normally reserved BB was next to me and we were spontaneously hugging. Then, I announced to the birders, “I did it! I did! I found the dogs. I told you it might take to the last minute, but I found them.” They weren’t jumping, but I attributed that to bad knees.

We counted 14 dogs go by—the entire pack.

I was ready to hop in the vehicle and go after them. The problem was the birders were leaving soon for the airstrip in the regular vehicle and their luggage was in the uncomfortable luggage vehicle, so as not to crowd them. It looked like there was no vehicle available. After some discussion of logistics, the luggage vehicle was emptied of its three bags and BB and I set off. I thought BB was speedy in pursuit of the cheetah, but he was even faster today.

(Oh my goodness, as I am writing about the wild dogs of Africa, I heard for the first time in six months our local coyotes! They were really yelping! I think it’s that African magic BB did. It works on all canines.)

After about half an hour, the dogs still eluded us and BB told me that the luggage vehicle did not have enough gas to continue the search. We’d need to go to the airstrip where we could exchange the luggage vehicle for the regular one that had adequate gas. So the switch was made at the airstrip as the birders boarded their plane, and we sped off again.

After another hour of searching during which a bat eared fox and ostrich pair were seen, BB said, “There they are.” We approached and half of the pack was resting in an open area. BB radioed the other vehicles while we watched the dogs lounge around.

I was still so proud of my sighting (of course without BB it would have remained a 60 second sighting at 250 meters) that as the other vehicles pulled up next to ours, I would lean over and proudly whisper, “I was the one who spotted the pack this morning running past our camp.” As one of the vehicles left, a woman even thanked me for the sighting. “My pleasure,” I responded, in a Junior Ranger sort of way.

(There go the coyotes again!)

When the other vehicles left, we remained and then BB followed the seven dogs as they ran off to hunt. They were such gorgeous creatures gliding through the tall grass, calling in that whooping manner. They did encounter a warthog that was completely unconcerned with their approach and ended up chasing the dogs away. After about half an hour of sticking with the dogs, they entered rough territory so we turned around and watched them run off.

Now, whenever someone gets too big for their britches, as the saying goes, they are bound to be taken down a notch. Such was the case for me with my wild dog sighting that had me so impressed with myself.

We stopped for a break and some midmorning snacks. It was still very cold so I was wearing my fleece pants and wool gloves. I went off to find a private bush and do my business. When I returned to the vehicle BB noticed that I had prickers all over my wool gloves and he kindly offered to remove them. It was about that time that I became aware of some uncomfortable itching in my underpants. I returned to my private bush, while BB was working on my gloves, and inspected. Bad news, I had those same prickers all over my underpants. I must have squatted into a pricker bush. I did my best to remove all the visible matter, but it was still an itchy ride back to camp.

Prickers in your undies is not good but it is not as bad as this bathroom-stop story. This most bizarre client/guiding/game-viewing incident goes like this: A rather pretentious, unpleasant woman who wore a miniskirt on safari was one of several people out on a game drive. The vehicle they were using was the type with three rows of seats formed in a stair-step manner so that the top seat hangs out over the back of the vehicle. In the middle of a lion kill, she insisted on going to the bathroom. Of course, that meant driving away and leaving the lion kill. Eventually a spot was found for her and she hopped behind the vehicle to relieve herself. Suddenly the guide heard an ear splitting scream. He ran behind the vehicle, thinking maybe the woman was being attacked, and found her with the miniskirt around her knees, one hand grabbing her crotch and the other holding her head. What had happened was that when she squatted down, she had accidentally sat on the hot protruding muffler and she had given herself second-degree burns. She jumped up in pain and hit her head on the last row of protruding seats and ended up with a concussion. I’ll take the itchy underwear over that any day.

Back at camp, I attended more thoroughly to my undies and was getting ready for brunch. I unzipped my tent at 11:15 and glanced over at the camp’s waterhole and saw the seven wild dogs we had been following. They were drinking, wallowing, and resting at the waterhole. Unbelievable! My tent location allowed me to snap a photo of all seven dogs from my veranda. Zibalianja does not have tent numbers with only three tents, but mine was the closest to the main dining area, which is also closest to the waterhole and any activity there. The dogs had brought the entire staff out on the lawn to watch the spectacle. I joined them to get closer to the waterhole. By then the dogs were on their way. They had stopped for just a moment and I was so lucky to have seen that moment!

I believe BB’s African magic with the wild dog tracks did work, but was delayed a few hours. Three wild dog sightings in one day can be summed up as nothing but magic.

Since I knew I’d be the only guest, I had asked if we could have a traditional African meal for brunch. We had sadza (sp?) with corn, spinach, and another vegetable. It was a delicious vegetarian version of a traditional African meal and we ate with our hands

During the heat of the day, I spent as much time as I could in the hide overlooking the waterhole right in front of camp. Here are three hints I have for future waterhole enthusiasts. (1) Take a couple of cushions from the outdoor furniture with you for comfort. (2) When you first get into the hide, look out and take note of any long stems of grass that may obstruct your view and then do some pruning before the action starts. (3) Don’t trip on the thin wire fence that lies flat on the ground during the day between the camp and the waterhole. At night the fence is erected and electrically charged to keep out the elephants. No danger of getting a shock during the day.

While in the hide I saw only a pair of warthogs that came to cool off every 30 minutes or so. It was an excellent view and photographic opportunity. Other animals that visited during my stay were the dogs (as mentioned), several other warthogs, and a troop of baboons. I was told it was also popular with zebra and impala. The proximity of the waterhole—actually two small waterholes—side by side, made for great photos.

Upon my request, Stewart had made some nice arrangements for me with Chris DeBeer, the manager of the walking trails safari. I could do an abbreviated version of the 4-5 day hiking trip, spending one night at Tshwene (one of the two walking trails camps) and participating in a couple of walks. The group he was leading was on its way to Zib anyway, where we would all spend our last night in the concession. BB drove Stewart, Tess, and me to the walking trails camp. Stewart and Tess were able to check out the operation and BB was able to spend the afternoon and evening with his friends, since Zib was now empty.

I was warmly greeted by Chris and Joanna, the managers, and the camp staff. The four other hikers were delightful—a Sabi Sands guide and camp manager of Arathusa and his wife plus an Italian couple who were frequent guests at Arathusa. Now they were all on holiday together in Botswana. I appreciated their good cheer in accepting me as the interloper for the last leg of their walking safari.

In their morning walk, they had encountered two male lions and they were still excited about that. Our walk was through picturesque bush, with more foliage than the terrain near Zib. Our outing included a baobab tree, a warthog, wild dog tracks and a harmless belly striped sand snake.

The outdoor shower with a spectacular view was also a highlight, as much for entertainment as for hygiene. Speaking of entertainment, Chris DeBeer is a one-man show himself and provided many laughs at dinner and around the campfire. Jaco, the guide on holiday, was also a hoot so we heard many a humorous tale that night.

The small comfortable tents were up one story with the flush-toilet discretly tucked at the foot of the stairs. Tshwene was a perfect bush camp.

After breakfast we were off in weather well suited for walking--cool, with cloud cover and a slight breeze. Normally we would walk all the way to Zib, but the amount of water made walking the whole way impossible, so we were picked up by vehicle after about four hours. On our walk back to camp, we saw a herd of buffalo crossing a channel, herds of tsessebee, a lone wildebeest defending its territory, a slender mongoose, and four hornbills that came to the water for a drink.
The last day and a half produced a sizeable buffalo herd, a favorite picture of impalas on a termite mound, the closest tsessebee viewing I’ve ever had, a Barred owl, a Pearl-spotted Owl, zebra herds, and very fresh leopard tracks that we followed, but no leopard.

As I was leaving Zib, I discovered I had left my little hairbrush at the walking trails camp but I could not imagine where. Since there has been some recent forum discussion on hidden images in photos, I zoomed in on my shot of Tshwene walking trails camp interior. Sure enough, on the unused bed, there’s the brush complete with ponytail rubber bands around the handle. It blended in with the bedspread. These eyes that could spot wild dogs at 250 meters could not see my hairbrush, camouflaged by the busy patterned bed spread. This photo, along with pictures of the other camps, will be sent to Julian for the “pictures of camps” thread.

Sadly, I left Tessa, Stewart, BB, and Rose and beautiful Zibalianja. The plane I was on made a stop at the Jao airstrip enroute to Maun. The area around Jao was absolutely spectacular in its brilliant greens and blues. Distraught as I was on this departure flight, I was able to muster some awe for the beauty of this location.
[/color]
With all the air travel problems, security delays, and general atmosphere of caution, I had no problems returning home until I landed in Chicago. The bus I took from O’Hare back home broke down on the interstate and we were stranded on th

Here is the photo link

http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=k8fpf01.52gfuwkt&x=0&y=4grcfl

[color:"purple"]Duba pics 1-65[/color]
[color:"green"]Vumbura pics 66-81[/color]
[color:"red"]Zibalianja pics 82-115[/color]

Hi. Just wanted to say thanks for the trip report. You're a good writer. Well done.