Wilderness tends to be overused these days, pretty much anywhere without wifi tends to qualify. But there's wilderness and then there's wilderness. The type of wilderness that requires chartering a tiny little Cessna and bouncing through the searing desert air for an eternity in search of a single dirt clearing/airstrip somewhere in the vastness of the Botswana savanna. Rock will soon realize that the lack of a Star Alliance Gold priority lane is going to the be least of his worries.
If she's flying, you may want to consider whether the airpoints are going to be worth it.
Turns out even if she's not flying, there's no amount of airpoints worth clutching a barf bag in white-knuckled hands until mercifully a dirt clearing materializes through the miasmic haze.
Turns out there's no three letter airport code for the Okavango Delta, or baggage claim for that matter. In fact, there's not even an airport at all.
Welcome to base camp for the next three days. And camp is certainly the right word - it's literally a collection of tents huddled together on a tiny island in the middle of the 15,000 square kilometers of uncharted swampland.
Tents aren't so bad when you don't have to pitch them. And when they come with roofs and an en suite.
Mei could get used to this whole camping thing. Why just wait until she sees the dining hall.
Looks like someone has mistaken Rock for a hippo. Admittedly, an easy mistake to make as he comes lumbering through the bush in search of the lunch spread.
The mokoro, or dugout canoe, is the primary means of transport out here in the delta. Shallow, reed-lined waterways separate the numerous low-lying islands, so a mokoro is a perfect way to silently slip between the reeds before a hippo takes too much notice.
Does anyone else think the boat is riding a little low in the water with this dude on board?
Back on land at one of the larger islands, the goal being to hike inland in pursuit of the wildlife that will hopefully emerge as the afternoon heat begins to dissipate. First up is a herd of impala, exciting at the time but by the end of the trip would prove to be so generic that they fit in perfectly on this blog.
According to our guide, it takes a termite mound over a century to get this big. Rock is giving them a run for their money though in trying to get this blog finished.
Mei should be used to a Long March. Look on the bright side, if you complete the march then 50 years from now your name will be one of the few not blocked on Weibo. In fact, you might even be branded a People's Revolutionary Hero.
As the sun sets the first day's safari action comes to an end and the mokoros slip silently back to camp. Except for Mei's, which is not really very silent at all.
No need to lock up, the hippos that go marauding after dark are the only guards you need around here.
Nothing like tracking animals to work up the desire to eat some animals. The kitchen is firing up and it sure smells good. Hopefully lions don't have a taste for spaghetti bolognese.
The communal campfire is the perfect venue for travel one-upmanship. Just like that TripAdvisor app on Facebook, except instead of sticking pins in places you've been, you get to stick pins right in your fellow travelers' hearts. Oh you went hiking in the Alps? That's cool,we were doing some hiking too, but up at Everest Base Camp. Smack down!
Ironically some of the best grub on the trip - and we're not talking roasted termites - was grilled up right here in the middle of nowhere, 300 miles from the nearest hint of civilization. When every single ingredient has to be flown in on the weekly supply Cessna, the chefs become adept at extracting the maximum out of every single ingredient; a humble can of soup is suddenly a Michelin 3 star appetizer when served by candlelight under the twinkling Milky Way.
The only schedule that matters out here is the animal schedule, and that doesn't come with a convenient Outlook reminder. When the sun rises, it's time to hit the trail.
A quick splash from the rudimentary but surprisingly effective bucket shower, and it's back to the mokoros for the morning safari.
There are no icebergs to contend with in these tropical waters, but if you think that means full speed ahead, think again. Hit one of these bad boys, and you'll save your travel insurance provider a lot of money - the repatriation of remains clause won't require much more than a Fedex box once the chomping is complete.
Like any good wilderness, there are plenty of things to kill you in the water or on the land, and indeed some that are quite agnostic to the venue where they complete the deed. A case in point, the mighty African elephant.
When on the trail of beasts, walking single file with one guide at the front and two at the rear is mandatory. That way the guides can have a clear escape path should the wildlife have the inclination to sample an exotic spread of imported meats.
Fresh meat on the trail, killed earlier this morning according to the guide's professional diagnosis.
If those blumbering creatures are what I'm going to evolve into, I think I stay put in my comfy fruit tree thank you very much.
Hungry work safari-ing before breakfast. You've got to take what you can get out here and get in line with all the other scavengers.
A dazzle of zebra and a lone giraffe mark the first signature sightings of the day. Which means Mei reckons it's time to head home.
And it turns out she gets her wish. No surprise there, although this time it has more to do with the rapidly rising sun (and commensurately diminished animal sightings) than it does to incessant complaining.
Careful where you sit around here.
Just like the animals seek refuge from the noon day heat, so to do these supposedly more evolved denizens of the delta. If evolutionary prowess is measured by the ability to ingest sugary caffeinated beverages, then this lot is at the very pinnacle of the ladder.
Not everyone is taking an afternoon siesta. Two bull elephants wander down to the swamp in front of the camp in search of some juicy reeds and a cooling current.
Some lazy hours and numerous cokes later, the sun is low enough for the evening game walk. It's mokoro time, poles up boys. Uhm... right.
It turns out the real action is right at the start, when the aforementioned bull elephant takes a dislike to hollowed out logs contaminating his dinner plate. The guide has already itemized the signs of a charge - flared ears, trunk raised, trumpeting war call - which conveniently allows one just enough warning for a couple last photos before being crushed into oblivion.
It turns out the afternoon trek was rather unnecessary A better strategy is just to sit around and wait for them to come to you. This curious beast decided that the trees in the camp are just so much better than that common stuff in the other 15,000 square kilometers of swampland. Dinner is, needless to say, going to be a little late tonight given he has taken up station in the dining room.
Another day dawns, this time mercifully overcast. Conditions seem ripe for a good morning's hunting.
The shy Kudu prefer to lurk in the bushes. A wise move given the Big 6 has already enjoyed a Kudu steak or two on this trip.
Another dazzle of Zebras. As an aside, is that the coolest synonym for herd or what?
Finally, after days of combing the dusty savanna in vain, the elusive Tyrellia is spotted! A unique blend of the strength of the wildebeest and the grace of an impala, this special creature is known for its voracious appetite and bellowing mating call.
Back at camp to load up on a hearty breakfast which will be used to ballast those barf bags on the flight back to (relative) civilization.
Believe me, it doesn't look nearly so scenic through the bottom of an airsickness bag that has been rendered translucent with what's left of this morning's coffee.
A sweet, sweet sight. The only sweeter sight is that KFC sign on the road just outside the airport.
Aircon! After two nights where the cooling system consisted of opening the tend flap a little wider, civilization never felt so good. They even have wifi here, which is how we learned that two days ago New York had pretty much been wiped off the map by Sandy. There is a certain irony in reading emails from friends and colleagues back home lamenting the lack of electricity and basic services whilst enjoying high speed wifi, hot water, and gourmet meals in what is supposed to be the poorest continent on earth. First World, lift your game mate!
