On a Botswana game safari, I discovered I was a birder | Canada Voices

It was shortly after sunrise when we spotted the leopard slinking among the parched shrubbery of the open plains. Our guide manoeuvred the open-sided Land Cruiser closer, bouncing, crunching over the dusty terrain, his eyes following the feline into the cover of a dense bush before he announced: “He’s got a kill.”

It was late November, and I was with a small group on my first safari in the Savute region of Botswana’s Chobe National Park. The primal spectacle we were about to witness was in line with what I had both expected and anticipated from such an expedition: lions, leopards, elephants and other magnificent beasts revered for their speed, size and ferocity.

And yet, by the end of the trip, it would be the smaller, feathered inhabitants of the region that I would be most unexpectedly enamoured with.

Tourism is relatively new in Botswana, where the government only began actively encouraging it in the 1990s. In 2002, it formalized a national ecotourism strategy, which included a high-value, low-volume approach aimed at attracting high-spending tourists for exclusive experiences while minimizing the impact to the environment. The result has been limited visitor numbers, highly personalized excursions and the engagement of local communities in tourism.

I stayed at two lodges operated by Desert & Delta Safaris, a luxury safari company that operates nine camps and lodges in Botswana and Namibia. In 2014, it became the first such company to have all of its camps and lodges managed by local citizens, reflecting its commitment to empowering Botswana through tourism.

Before arriving at the Savute Safari Lodge, I stayed at the Nxamaseri Island Lodge in the panhandle of Botswana’s Okavango Delta, about 200 kilometres west.

Upon arrival, I am assigned a guide named Phorake Ngoro, whose name tag says simply, “Mr. P.” He tells me he is of River Bushmen ancestry and has worked at the lodge for 25 years.

Because of its location on the water, there are no game drives at Nxamaseri. Instead, we hop on an open-air speedboat in the morning and afternoon, winding through the waterways of the delta, past walls of papyrus and reed grasses. I keep my eyes peeled for bloats of hippos and crocodile eyes poking above the water’s surface while Mr. P and the two other guests who have joined us point out notable bird species.

I am indifferent to birdwatching. But the speed and passion with which the others identify them intrigues me, and I follow along. I learn that the incessant, rhythmic three-note call I would hear almost constantly throughout my time in Botswana is that of the Cape turtle dove, whom locals quip is chanting, “Work HAR-der! Work HAR-der!” during the day, or “Drink LAG-er! Drink LAG-er!” in the afternoon.

The chestnut-coloured bird with a white face and throat, meanwhile, is the African jacana, Mr. P points out. Its long toes allow it to walk on floating vegetation, earning it the nickname of the “Jesus bird.” The African darter, a swimming bird, is sometimes called a snakebird, for its S-shaped neck protruding from the water. I learn to spot African fish eagles, white-faced whistling ducks and orange-breasted bushshrikes.

One evening at dinner, a buffet of western offerings served alfresco, I meet Lyn Sutton, a military veteran turned sex therapist from Australia, now retired and burning through her savings on a bucket list of travel aspirations. Like me, she came to Botswana wanting to see the big game that safaris are known for and developed an unexpected interest in winged wonders.

“If you’re not a birdwatcher before coming to this environment, you become one,” Sutton says. On her phone, she shows me an image she snapped that day of a Pel’s fishing owl, an elusive bird of which there are only said to be between 100 and 150 breeding pairs in Botswana. I make note of its large size, round head and lack of ear tufts, and become determined to find a bird that I didn’t know existed moments earlier.

That night, in one of the elevated timber and canvas chalets at Nxamaseri, under a forest canopy, I fall asleep to a chorus of buzzing and chirping, of donkeys braying and the soothing clangs of distant cowbells.

At sunrise the next morning, we take a traditional dugout canoe called a mokoro through the Okavango Delta, slicing through the stillness of the glass-like water, past dragonflies skipping across water lilies. A layer of mist hangs over the water as the sun emerges on the horizon, illuminating the sky in hues of pink and orange. I see a malachite kingfisher, and note the stark contrast of its metallic blue head and wings and orange underparts.

Guests who stay three or more nights at Nxamaseri have the opportunity to spend one night at a “sleep-out camp” at Tsodilo Hills, a UNESCO World Heritage Site known for its spiritual and religious significance and rock art. After a couple of hours of travel via boat and 4×4 vehicle, we are welcomed at the site with a campfire and a joyful performance by a traditional San Bushmen dance group.

We dine in candlelight surrounded by thorny scrub bushes amid a cacophony of buzzing and clicking cicadas, and retreat to dome tents on elevated wooden platforms, covered with reeds to resemble traditional San Bushmen dwellings. A new experience launched by Desert & Delta Safaris in November, the sleep-out camp offers the creature comforts of glamping in a remote and uniquely Botswanan setting.

Morning brings a three-hour hike along the trails of Tsodilo Hills, where a local guide points out red paintings on the stone depicting animals, people and geometric patterns, said to date back thousands of years and give a chronological account of the area’s history.

Before I depart Nxamaseri, Mr. P takes us on one final boat ride to an island in the Okavango Delta where the elusive Pel’s fishing owl had been spotted that morning. He hurries ahead, following intel shared by a fellow guide, as I trail behind, scanning the tree branches overhead. Suddenly, Mr. P motions for me to come toward him and gestures into the canopy. My eyes follow his direction and land on this majestic bird, perched on a branch, its dark eyes staring back at me. I am delighted.

To be clear, I did see the big game I had anticipated. The Savute Safari Lodge is located within Chobe National Park, an entirely different environment than Nxamaseri with wholly different safari experiences. At Savute, guests are taken on two game drives a day, one early in the morning and another in the late afternoon, for a total of about seven hours of wildlife viewing each day.

Bouncing along in the open-air 4×4, I watch giraffes pluck leaves from acacia trees, jackals scamper across the plains and lions doze in the shade. Massive herds of elephants emerge from the bushes, their playful, tiny calves weaving between the legs of larger members. Wildebeests and buffalo strike intimidating figures, and the patchy patterns and cute round ears of African wild dogs belie their ability to tear apart an impala in mere minutes.

Spotting a leopard in the bushes one day, our guide manoeuvres the 4×4 to get closer. We follow it to a recent kill – an impala – and watch the feline rip into its flesh with its strong jaw and sharp teeth. A feathered friend cheers it on: “Work HAR-der! Work HAR-der!”

“Cape turtle dove,” I say quietly.

IF YOU GO

Have an idea of what you would like to see and do and be specific with your travel agent, recognizing that different regions offer unique experiences. A camp on the delta might offer fishing and mokoro excursions, for example, while those on dry desert plains might specialize in game drives and walking safaris.

Consider the time of year. While drier months might offer better game viewing, rainy periods can transform the landscape into a lush, green paradise. Off and shoulder season also often correspond with steep discounts.

Accommodations can vary; Savute Safari Lodge recently underwent a complete rebuild and now features contemporary rooms with modern fixtures while Nxamaseri Island retains the feel of a more traditional safari lodge. Both lodges start at around $994 a night for one- to four-night stays in the green season.

Botswana’s high-value, low-volume tourism strategy means visitors can often enjoy highly personalized and intimate experiences. For Desert & Delta Safaris, this can mean longer or shorter hikes, visits to nearby villages and engaging with locals as they harvest edible lily roots and weave baskets, upon request.

The writer was a guest of Desert & Delta Safaris. It did not approve or review the story before publication.