There are some places that call to you long before you ever arrive—those rare, golden journeys that settle deep into your soul and stay there, long after the dust has washed off your boots. For us, the Okavango Delta was one of them.
With Botswana joining our destinations portfolio, Phera and I set off on a mission: hearts wide open, cameras charged, and more memory cards than I care to admit. This wasn’t just about ticking boxes—it was about finding the magic of the Delta we’d heard so much about!
We’ve been fortunate to explore many corners of Africa, but this… this felt different. The Okavango Delta, shimmering with mystery and quiet wildness, had long been a dream. And when we finally touched down, it didn’t disappoint. In fact, it wrapped us in something far bigger than we’d imagined—a feeling. A soul-stirring sense of belonging.
We were silenced by sunsets so fiery they felt unreal, and gently awakened by lions calling in the distance like ancient echoes of the Earth itself. Our very first game drive set the bar impossibly high: golden-hour lions, stretched out as if posing for our arrival. We were in awe—and it was only day one.
Each day brought fresh wonder. Leopards slinking through tall grass. Hippos grunting in chorus. Lechwes bounding through floodwaters.
And then came a moment I’ll never forget.
On one of our game drives, our guide turned to us, eyes alight, “There’s been a wild dog sighting. Want to go?” Absolutely. “Hold onto your hats and your seats!”
We raced across the plains beneath a glowing rainbow, and there—at the end of it—not a pot of gold, but something far more precious: my very first sighting of wild dogs. They moved with electrifying coordination, playful yet powerful. One was being particularly doggish—determined not to let go of his prize (a Lechwe leg!). I was caught between awe and laughter, delight and deep, deep gratitude.
Of course, nature doesn’t only show us her tender side. We also witnessed lions feeding on a baby elephant—a harsh reminder of the wild’s raw, unapologetic reality. It was difficult, heartbreaking, and real. So instead, we’ll share some lighter lion moments.
One afternoon, as we sat for lunch at the camp, a bull elephant wandered into camp. He splashed in the shallow channel, playing with a stick like a joyful toddler discovering water for the first time. We couldn’t stop smiling—it was pure, spontaneous joy.
Then there were the quieter moments. Gliding through glassy channels in a mokoro, the sky mirrored in the water, the reeds whispering as we passed. Here, you notice the little things—an Angolan reed frog clinging to a stem, the gentle dip of a paddle, the hush of a world entirely at peace.
The Delta is a tapestry of experiences. Each concession revealed a new face of its beauty. The Jao concession left us breathless—towering palms, shimmering floodplains, and game around every bend. And the sunsets… oh, the sunsets. One evening, the sky ignited in hues so intense we simply stood in silence. You can’t capture it—no camera can do it justice. You just have to be there.
Getting to Camp Moremi, tucked deep in the Moremi reserve, was our only road transfer—and thankfully, our only one. It was hot, bumpy, dusty… and long. Would we recommend it? Not exactly. But driving through the Moremi Reserve did offer something rare: the chance to see its different habitats unfold mile by mile. It’s a special place. Rich with wildlife and birdsong. It has its limitations, being a reserve—but nothing that takes away from the experience. Especially when you’re spotting a young leopard curled into a termite mound, or an enormous bull elephant snoozing in the middle of the road, utterly unfazed by our presence.
Each transfer—whether by light aircraft or helicopter—felt like its own safari. From above, the Okavango becomes a living mosaic: channels, islands, lagoons, and elephants appearing like soft ink blots on the land. There’s something sacred about seeing the wild from above—untouched, endless, and deeply alive.
These are the memories we carry with us now—the ones that remind us why we do this. Why we must.
Because the Okavango Delta isn’t just about wildlife. It’s about how it makes you feel. The stillness. The electricity in the air. The vast, breathtaking silence that somehow fills you up. It’s one of those rare places in the world that asks you to slow down, tune in, and truly feel alive.
And here’s the truth—we didn’t want to leave.
Not just because the wildlife was extraordinary (it absolutely was).
Not just because the landscapes were some of the most stunning we’ve ever seen (they truly were).
But because the Okavango Delta gave us something rare: a reminder of how beautiful this world can be when left wild and free.
This is a place everyone should experience at least once in their life. Not someday—now.
Because moments like these don’t wait forever.
Because memories like these aren’t just found—they’re made.
And because there’s something waiting for you here, too.
Trust us—once you’ve felt the heartbeat of the Delta, you’ll never forget it.
