When researching things to do in Gabarone I came up short. There was the No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency tour, a mountain to climb, a monument to the founders of Botswana. With two weeks ahead of me and a weekend to fill I debated whether to use the time to relax or to maximize my time in Southern Africa. I opted to do the latter.

In 2010 I spent a month in South Africa. The first two weeks were devoted to the World Cup, the latter to experiencing the country. My first few days in the country I met up with friends of friends who had recently returned from safari. They couldn’t stop raving about where they stayed (Buffalo Ridge Safari Lodge) and the game reserve in which it resides. They were running World Cup specials and so I contacted a representative and booked a stay there for my last weekend in the country.

It was my first safari and I remember staring out over the plains over dinner. Faint lights clustered on the horizon. That’s Gabarone, capital of Botswana, someone told me. It’s about an hour and a half north.

Gabarone then was an abstract concept to me, but the proximity of the reserve to Gabarone remained lodged in my head. And now, with a free weekend in Gabarone, I looked to see if there might be last minute safari deals. Thankfully there were.

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Originally, I had planned to rent a car and drive myself. Losing my wallet in Windhoek made that an impossibility. Eventually, I contacted the agent I had used to book my lodge and they helped secure a car and driver to pick me up and drop me off.

The driver arrives at 1100h; it’s a little over an hour to the border through suburbs, small towns, and farms. We chat about his three children. His eldest wants to be a pilot. Schooling is expensive, but the rewards are great. He’s doing what he can to realize her dreams; it’s what a parent does.

The border crossing is quick. We’re the only car passing through. A box of condoms sits on the counter. The immigration official checks my passport, stamps it, hands it back, and we’re on our way.

From the border it’s minutes to the Derdepoort gate. On my last visit I entered from the west and I’m excited to be able to see the other side of the park. And, as with my first visit to Madikwe, the first animals I see are zebra.

The lodge—Madikwe Hills—is beautiful, the cabins luxurious. There’s a sitting room before the bedroom, a bathroom with a separate shower and tub, a terrace with a pool and outdoor shower. Raised wooden walkways connect the cabins to reception, a spa, and the dining area. Hyrax relax by the pool.

From the terrace I have unhindered views of a waterhole and watch as a dazzle of zebra approach from afar to slake their thirst. I unpack and head to the main lodge for lunch.

Elephants approach the waterhole while I eat, sipping from the pool and then dousing themselves with dirt in an attempt to beat the heat. It’s amazing to be able to watch them while enjoying my meal.

In the afternoon I meet Megan. She’ll be my guide for the weekend. She grew up on a surfboard in a South African beach town but left high school for the bush. She’s been guiding for six years, most recently at Kruger; she’s spent the past 10 months at Madikwe. She’s one of few female guides and she’s working with an organization to encourage more women to join the field.

She loves Madikwe. Kruger is made up of a number of farms and concessions, each with their own rules. There, she could spend a day tracking an animal only to have them cross into a private concession where she wasn’t allowed access. Or, she could cross into a farm with different rules for how closely they can approach animals. Try explaining that to a guest.

At Madikwe she has no such issues. The park is smaller but it’s more driveable. She has full run of the place, and she’s excited to show us cats.

We set off with Charlie, our tracker. I share the vehicle with a Dorothy and Ciara—a mother and daughter from Ireland—and an older couple from the States. We drive out towards the edge of the park where it borders Botswana where we run into trackers on the hunt. On the radio we hear that it’s right in front of one of the trackers. They’re so well-hidden they can pop their head up right in front of you.

We find the cheetah between two trees, almost completely camoflauged. We sit and watch as it stretches and changes position. Megan moves the vehicle around for a better view and then the cheetah turns her back on us. After a while, she moves on. We follow her as she slinks through the brush, climbing a termite mound to scratch against a tree before wandering into the thicket.

Megan finds a place for sundowners. Charie prepares drinks as Megan sets up a small stove where she prepares hot snacks for us. It’s a luxurious treat.

We ask her about the cheetah in park. She tells us that all the female cheetah are collared. The one we saw had four cubs last year, but they all died. The year before she had another litter of four where one died. She tells us that her next cubs will be traded with another park for a female to increase the breeding potential at Madikwe.

She tells us that she’s been seeing issues with giraffe lately. Four have died in the past two months, but there’s been no money to perform autopsies. Megan suspects that they’re sick, possibly due to malnutrition but it’s difficult to tell.

I ask her about the interview process at Madikwe. She tells me that each lodge is different, each looks for different types of guides. Madikwe Hills prefers chattier guides, which is a perfect fit for her.

I chat with Dorothy and Ciara. Dorothy’s husband doesn’t like to travel far and so it’s just the two of them. Ciara is graduating this year. She wants to work a bit and then travel. She’s debating between South Ameican and Southeast Asia. I offer her an overview of my experiences. I tell her she can’t go wrong.

On the way back to the lodge we pause by a waterhole where a herd of elephants have gathered. We sit and watch them as the sun sets behind us. As we pull away we pass rhino drinking on the other side of the pool.

Near the camp we spot an owl. Charlie trains a spotlight on it and it sits patiently for us to snap a few photos before it takes flight, disappearing into the night.

During dinner an elephant brings her baby to the waterhole to drink. She approaches first, her charge coming emerging into the light when it’s safe. I linger on the terrace, sitting cross-legged on the floor so that I can brace the camera against the railing. I watch until they finish, leaving the waterhole empty, before retiring myself.

The next morning we are out early in search of lions. There’s a chill in the air; leaves fall.

They spot lions far in the distance. We try heading them off at the pass, but they refuse to emerge. They seem to have hunkered down in the brush.

We spot a herd of wildebeest and creep along with them. The lions may be tracking them.

The sun rises. The moon hangs bright in the sky. The lions are not to be seen.

We drive to the dam and see them in the distance, walking away. We can’t follow off road due to the threat of erosion and drive around the dam. There’s a lot of chatter on the radio with guides getting in line hoping to see lions. We drive along a road perpendicular and then parallel to the roads other guides are traversing, covering as many sides of the quadrant as we can in hopes of seeing them emerge to no avail.

We drive to Leopard’s Rock and climb to the top of the lookout. Megan scans the landscape with binoculars. The lions are nowhere to be seen.

We stop for snacks and I hear someone order a bush mix as their beverage. I ask what it is and am told it’s a mix of coffee, hot chocolate, and Amarula, a South African cream liqueur. I ask for one as well. Warthogs watch us warily as we sip our drinks and snack on biscuits and muffins. The mother takes a look at what’s on offer. Diabetes central, she remarks. I laugh and take a bite of muffin.

On the way back to the lodge we pass zebra and impala. Cape buffalo, elephants, and impala visit the camp’s waterhole during our lunch, offering us spectacular armchair safari viewing.

Megan is frustrated by our lack of lion sightings. She’s disappointed. In the afternoon we set off and spot giraffe and jackal and elephants, the latter sipping from a pool by a set of buildings that now houses administration for the park. It’s surprising to see the somewhat basic houses set on the plains.

The radio comes alive. Lions have been found and a guides are on site. They describe the field they’re in and Megan quickly drives us to that point. They are nowhere to be found. She asks for clarification and asks if they can give her better coordinates or directions based on a map. The guide seems directionally challenged, but Megan figures it out. The field they describe is a different one to the one they had named and we head back in the direction we came, crossing the road towards a smaller field. We pass a guide heading back to their lodge and they point us in the direction of the pride.

We follow them as they wander through the bush, sometime alone, sometimes interacting with each other, always closeby.

Megan is relieved. We’ve found lions.

The lions continue their wandering and we leave them be after a spell to find a place for a quick sundowner. We pass a rhino hiding in the bush on our way to a suitable spot, and Charlie mixes gin and tonics and lays out snacks for us.

It’s dark by the time we reach the lodge. En route we catch a hyena walking alone in the dark. Charlie trains a flashlight on it as it crosses our path, ignoring us completely.

At dinner we are all seated together with our guides. I’m sitting at one end with Megan and Ciara. Her mother and the other couple sit at the other end. Megan looks around the table, it’s split generationally and she comments on the fact that all the young people are at her end.

I ask her about her job as a guide and the various aspects of it. She tells us that part of the job is knowing people and putting them into boxes. For example, she tells us that there are introverts who want to be fussed over and those who want to be left alone, and it’s her job to know one from the other.

What boxes are we in? I ask. She looks at Ciara and says she’s an introvert and doesn’t like to be fussed over. She tells me I’m happy-go-lucky.

She also tells us that some people have a notion in their head about safari guides. Some expect a man and will be surprised to meet Megan. Some expect a black guide. Some make specific requests.

Everyone turns in shortly after dinner. It’ll be another early morning tomorrow.

•

We set off under cloudy skies. A staff photographer has joined us for our morning drive. We’re in search of a singular male lion, his favorite in all of Africa.

Megan and Charlie follow tracks in dust, alighting and walking the paths to determine where the lions have gone. To cover more ground, Megan leaves Charlie to track one area while we drive off to search another area.

There are elephants in the area and Charlie, on foot, is careful to give them space. Megan drives, her eyes scanning the bush, ears tuned to the radio.

Once again the radio comes alive. The lion has been spotted. She calls Charlie to ascertain his location. He seems to be in the middle of nowhere when Megan locates him. It amazes me she’s been able to do so.

We drive through the park in the direction of the lion, slowing down to pass a dazzle of zebra before racing on.

The lion is majestic; it’s easy to see why the staff photographer considers it his favorite in Africa. Megan manages to position the vehicle so that he comes up close alongside of us.

Megan then plays a game, driving ahead, predicting his path, working to place us in position. She’s masterful, placing us perfectly in his path for amazing photographs. A ten out of ten lion viewing.

We drive back to the lodge, hearts full of our intimate encounter. A lone giraffe wanders close to the camp and Megan pauses to let us admire its graceful walk. I hadn’t seen it until we had pulled up next to it. It’s amazing how in the bush you can not notice a huge animal until you’re right upon it. I wonder if it’s because my mind is overloaded with stimulation, with searching so hard for one thing I miss what’s right in front.

At the lodge I shower and pack my things. I’m to be picked up at 1100 to be driven back to my apartment in Gabarone. I’m not ready to leave; I’m never ready to leave the bush, but I’m thrilled I had this opportunity to return to Madikwe, to explore more of this reserve that holds a special place in my heart.

On our way out of the park we pass zebra, elephants, and cape buffalo. My driver is indulgent. He stops the car to let me take photographs and to spend a little more time with the animals before we leave.

Near the exit I spot a baby elephant out the driver’s side window. The driver stops and we wait as it decides what to do. Its mother has already crossed and I can see her through my window. The elephant pauses and looks towards its mom. Gathering up its courage it scurries across the street and the elephants lumber into the bush alongside each other.

It’s the perfect end to the weekend.

On the drive back I fall asleep, the memory of these two elephants float through my dreams. 🇿🇦