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You know you are in Africa when you see baboons playing along the roadside. You know you are in Africa when you stand on a slight rise and the landscape expands to the horizon without change and distinction. You know you are in Africa when you see herds of elephants, Cape buffalo and giraffe along the roadside. You know you are in Africa when small children wave to you with large smiles and curiosity in their eyes. Africa is all this and more. It’s about wattle and thatch hut villages and locals walking along the roadside dozens of miles from the nearest settlements. Africa is about hot dusty winds and afternoon thunderstorms. But yet these are only small glimpses into the heart of what makes up Africa.

We have spent the last two-weeks exploring Botswana, eight people traveling as a group of 4 vehicles: 3 Land Rovers and 1 Land Cruiser. In the lead vehicle, an aging Defender 110 300-TDI is Nick and Lee, two long time friends from England. In the Land Cruiser are Martin, Vivian, and their son Tim also from England. In the other Defender 110 500-TD5 is Jim, an ex-Microsoft co-worker, currently driving alone, and Kim and I are driving a brand new Defender 110 500-TD5. All the Land Rovers have 5 cylinder turbo-charged-intercooled diesel engines and are generally robust machines used worldwide for expedition, safaris and general mucking about. Each vehicle is it own self-contained camping unit – with built in water tanks, refrigeration, extended fuel tanks and roof top tents.

We start the expedition by heading north from the racial turmoil of Johannesburg through the rural ranch and farmland of South Africa and across the border and into Botswana. As we fall away from the urban core of South Africa a dramatic change occurs. Traditional wattle and thatch roof houses replace the concrete and corrugated roof houses in the villages. The first couple of times we come across these villages we feel as if we are in a Disney African Theme Park. But after a couple dozen villages it finally sinks into your conscious that you are in Africa and this is not a theme park. People live in these diminutive dwellings. The houses are round in shape and 12-14 feet across – though some are oval shaped as well. The walls are constructed of several posts driven into the ground around the circumference that support the roof structure. The space between the posts has smaller sticks woven and packed with mud creating stucco like appearance when done well. The highly pitched roof is covered with grass thatching about 12-inches thick. It is a very pleasing structure to view. Sometimes the house is surrounded but a fence woven of bamboo, woven reeds or sticks in a stockade manner. This is Africa of the past – strong traditions hold people to the land and their communities. In one remote village we saw a satellite TV antenna and a solar cell array aside a wattle and thatch home. Obviously blending the old and the new. From our conversations with guides and locals the reason for the smallness of he house becomes apparent. The house is only used for sleeping, and all other activities, cooking, playing and general hanging about is done outside. So the true living area surrounds the wattle hut sleeping area.

We make our way across southern Botswana by driving long days and cover almost 600 kilometers on our second day. This is the equivalent of driving across Texas. On the third day we drop into the Kalahari. It’s vast basin of sand, slit, saltpans, low scrub, and trees. It’s about the size of Kansas, and we will spend the rest of the two weeks circumscribing a counter clockwise path around it.

We have been driving relentlessly since we arrived and our first tourist stop is Kobu Island. It is a shallow rock dome in the middle of Soa Pan and in the rainy season it truly is an island. But now it is just a high spot in the center of this seemingly endless pan. We dove 30 kilometers across dead flat salt pan the get here, and from the highest point on the island all you can see is salt flats. The island is an ancient place of worship for the San people that once roamed this landscape. A two meter tall rock wall, now collapsed is the surrounds much of the island. Baobab trees jut out of the island like 2000-year-old sentries on guard. Legend has it that the Baobab was boasting about how big and magnificent it was in comparison to the other trees. When the gods tired of this they pulled the Baobab out from the ground, turned it over and thrust back into the earth, thus leaving the roots in the air. This is how the Baobab tree looks with its huge trunk jutting skyward and thick tapering limbs with small leaves. It’s an odd sight, but certainly the most dramatic tree of the Kalahari.

Northward across the pans we drive first across more salt flat and then a rugged two-wheel track. We pass through short grass grazing lands with cattle, goats and more donkeys then I have ever seen. They out number the cattle two to one. The farm scene continues until we enter the Nxai Pan National Park where we spot our first African wildlife, Ostrich, Giraffes, Elephants, Antelope, Gazelle and Lionesses. There are not large numbers of anything as the annual migration has already started. The rainy season is afoot and the animals are not restricted to the plentiful water in the park. We camp in the middle of this African menagerie, we think about the beasts we have viewed on our evening drive around the park and every glimmer of yellow in the trees brings thought of the patient waiting lions to mind.

We continue counter-clockwise around the Kalahari, and if we though we were blessed to see a few elephants in the Nxai National park we are astounded to see a small heard of 20 at a watering hole along the hard surface road that heads northward to the Northeast corner of Botswana. The diversity and perversity of the place astounds us. The prior day we had driven 200 km across what we thought was the wilderness of Botswana and all we got for our troubles was and endless parade of farm animals. Now yards from a tarmac road we have a small heard of elephants. I guess you know you are in Africa when…

At northwest corner we stop at a nice lodge for soft beds, hot showers, and drinks by the river. Dinner is a native buffet of traditional meats and vegetable including sweet potatoes, corn mash, Kudu, Ostrich, and grubs. I pass on the grubs, but the Kudu is excellent. Tender as a good beef filet. This extravagance, room, meals and evening at the bar sets us back about $80 each – it’s relatively cheap to travel in southern Africa.

Since we are in the neighborhood we brave a boarder crossing into what was Rhodesia and what is now called Zimbabwe to see the famed Victoria Falls. It’s a fool’s errand, but we are on fools’ holiday so it only seems natural. But before we can get going we have to change tires, our right rear is bit soft. We stop at service station and leave the flat to be repaired and put on the spare. It’s off to Zimbabwe we go.

In general, the boarding crossings have been easy, usually it just requires that you stop and exit the country you are in, fill out an exit pass and have your passport stamped. Then you hop back in your truck and drive across the boarder, and check in at the new country. Zimbabwe was really no different except in the cost for the entry. In total we spent $78 US for entry into Zimbabwe – clearly Disney Land would have been cheaper. This was just a precursor for what would an expensive day.

We had left early without breakfast with the intention of having brunch at one of the bastions of English imperialism, the Victoria Falls Hotel. This magnificent old hotel harkens back to the day when England ruled Rhodesia, as one of it’s many colonies. Green lawns (and tall razor wire topped walls) surround the expansive and stately white building. We dinned at  inner patio with green lawns that stretch out to the chasm and river course that Victoria Falls drops into. Despite the extravagant surrounding we only managed to spend about $15 each on lunch and this was even after we found out that we were cheated by 20% on the US to Zimbabwe exchange rate.

No tourist sightseeing trip is complete without an aerial observation of a dramatic geological formation, so we hustled out to the airport and chartered Cessna 207 for an overhead view of Victoria Falls. This took two trips and $55US each for the eight of us, but all consider it worth the money. Victoria Falls claims to be the largest falls in the world but I think that it’s only during the height of the rainy season. The river flows a meandering path across the flat plain only to find a 100-meter deep 1-mile wide chasm to drop into. It is a dramatic view, even if water only flows over 1 third of it’s width. A return visit during the floods is mandatory. With the aerial view complete we head to the falls for the land approach. Even before we turn in to the parking lot, our convoy of safari-equipped tucks had the local parking lot venders rushing toward us. It must be a slow day, for the minute we open our doors we are surrounded by vendors selling woodcarving, baskets, and refreshments. It is all we can do to fend them off and make our way to the falls entrance and produce another $20US each to see hear and feel the falls. We are not disappointed, but the day is getting late and the boarder closes at 6pm or was it 8pm. We can’t remember. We recapture our vehicles from the venders – buy a few dinks – and have second thoughts about that wood carving for only 100 Pulu – about $20 US and drive the 50 km back to the Botswana boarder arriving just at 6pm. We clear the boarder; pick up our repaired spare tire – only to find that amongst the 4 trucks there is only one lug wrench and head to our next adventure.

While provisioning for the next leg, we realize that we must cross the Chobe National Park, whose gates close at 7pm, and it’s now 7:30. We hustle to the entrance, and beg forgiveness and plead stupidity. We are allowed to cross the park but must be very careful as the park animals take the road hostage at night, and collisions with the likes of elephants, buffalo and other animals that weight more then our trucks was so common that for the protection of the wildlife they close the road. We drive the 50 km across the park slowly and at every large tree along the roadside we imagine is a rouge bull elephant waiting to take revenge for the meaningless slaughter of his ancestors. We arrive late at the Muchenje Safari Lodge on the southern boarder of the park – and dinner is waiting.