My Travels - Tuli, Botswana

My African Adventure - A Tale of Tuli, Botswana

Every year, my parents-in-law come to visit us in Cape Town. It inevitably turns into a hurried two-week escapade across the countryside from Cape Point to the winelands. It leaves us breathless to say the least. Then on our visits to their home in Botswana, we spend days sitting around. I eventually came upon this realisation that I hadn't actually seen much of the country after five years of these regular visits. I knew Botswana had much to offer, but how would it fair on a shoe-string budget? After much determination and endless internet searches; we came across Tuli and my first real African adventure was set in motion.


Driving from Botswana's northern-most city, Francistown, and leaving behind the husband's family, some 300km to Tuli, we were greeted by rippled bumps that reinforced our need for a proper 4x4. Yes folks, despite the in-laws insistence, a 2x4 wheeled drive vehicle will just not work!


After kicking up some more desert dust, we noticed how the terrain transformed from scorched, brown expanse into woody trees and grassland. I had regular visits to Francistown and Gaborone, Botswana's major cities under my belt. Not to mention passing in and out of consciousness every few seconds. Ok I admit it - I can't handle desert heat and the air-conditioner is my best friend in Botswana summers. Tuli Block in winter presented a fresh perspective on the Botswana I was used to.


Forty minutes later, and after a good shake-up of the old rib-cage, we got onto a smooth road that led to the manicured greens of Tuli Safari Lodge. Greeted with a hot towel and refreshing cocktail from a Colgate-smiley staff member, we were taken to our suite for the next two days, aptly named Wild Dog. To my South African shock and horror, there were no keys for the suites. This was a sense of safety unheard of, even in Cape Town. But it certainly reinforced a refreshing change in pace. With roaming bush buck oblivious to their human counterparts, mischievous squirrels and rock dassies, Tuli Safari Lodge offered the feel of the proverbial oasis in the desert land.

The rushing sound of the mighty Limpopo was within metres of our suite, even though the flow was more of a trickle during this winter visit. Almost immediately, our city-slicker buzz was forgotten amidst the sounds of nature. I waited with much anticipation for the moment when darkness would arrive and I could look up into the night sky for nothing but stars and the mighty Milky Way.

But first, an afternoon game-drive old chaps. We were hardly out the gate when we met a family of giraffes, followed by a lonesome hyena. I thought the shake-up to the lodge would be my last for a few days. The game drive proved otherwise. Whilst I concentrated on keeping the contents of my stomach in place, the truck stopped short.

Behold - the supreme sight of a leopard with her cub at the top of a hill. Barely visible, but definitely there. This mother gave us glimpses of her young behind a rock. His call was similar to the meow of a domestic cat, yet destined for greater intensity. Despite going on countless safaris in his youth, this was also a profound experience for hubby as he had never encountered a leopard with her cub before. The sun set on this scene in picture-perfect style.

Dinner at the boma invited a smaller cousin of the leopard - a stripy-tailed genet who decided that our three course meal smelt more interesting than his evening catch. Cloud cover unfortunately prevented my highly anticipated star-gazing that evening. Instead we enjoyed listening to red wine-induced pilot stories from two French nationals that had flown in for a stay at the camp.

Day Two brought with it my second most breath-taking moment of the visit. After a leisurely breakfast to the smell of a crackling wood fire, I walked over to the viewpoint that I had become used to - the Botswana side of the Limpopo River. My utter delight! I stumbled upon three of Africa's giants - well they were still calves, but the three youngsters were doing what elephants do best - packing on the mud and playing in the water in between trunk-full's of tree-top leaves. I marvelled at their gentle playing all by myself as my hubbyhad ventured up a rock trail on the other side of the suite. I had the urge to tell someone and invite them to share the moment. But there was nobody in sight and I smugly accepted that this moment was just for me. In silence, my camera captured their magnificence until they returned to their herd through the woodland.

We spent that scorching day by the poolside watching a curious band of warthogs make their way to shade in the gardens. And then my evening showstopper arrived. But not before spraying my skin down with mosquito repellant - something that I have always loathed on these visits.

My night with a heavenly canvas of sparkles was nothing short of ethereal. A truly priceless memory from South Africa's neighbouring gem. Priceless enough to allow me to forget about the stinky spray on my skin. My silent wonder at the universe was broken by a roaming bush buck. Whilst one can't help feeling like an alien invader of the animal kingdom in these parts, time spent marvelling at the old soul of the world in their compant, is indeed of outstanding quality.

If I have to take one valuable lesson from this trip, it would be learning the value of silence. As a city dweller, it's easy to become trapped in noise - both the physical and mental variety. Amongst the animals and nature, it almost feels like speaking equates to committing a sin. The silence of the natural world allows one to hear things long forgotten. It allows humans to reconnect with the earth. So much so, that as beautiful as Cape Town is, the night sky will never be the same again in my eyes.

It seems that our little trip to Tuli has spurred on the in-laws to do some exploring in their own backyards for a change. We're just glad that the travelling bug was the only one transferred.