African Diaries — Selous.  The Gem of Tanzania’s Southern Circuit

African Diaries — Selous. The Gem of Tanzania’s Southern Circuit

The Safari Air Link Cessna is approaching the Mtemere airstrip. This is the last stop on my journey around the little visited wildlife sanctuaries of Tanzania’s Southern Circuit. After a lengthy flight from the remote Katavi National Park, in the furthest southwestern reaches of the country, I have now come all the way back east to the great Selous Game Reserve.

Selous is defined by its network of rivers and oxbow lakes,

First declared a protected area over a century ago, Selous expanded over time to become a boundless swathe of mostly unexplored bush teaming with wildlife. With almost no roads into its remote interior, it is one of the least visited major parks in Africa, and at 52,000 square kilometers (20,000 square miles), an area larger than Switzerland, it is the largest game reserve on the continent.


Life Along the Rufiji River

Elephants thrive along the Rufiji River.

A defining feature of Selous is the network of rivers that converge into it from the surrounding highlands to become the powerful Rufiji River. As it meanders through the northeastern part of the reserve on its way to the ocean, the river’s eco-system sustains an exceptional diversity of wildlife and exuberant vegetation

The Rufiji River Camp offers an exceptional view of the river.

A black heron attracts fish by forming a shady canopy over the water with its wings.

Stretched along a bluff overlooking the Rufiji River, at the especially scenic northeastern tip of the reserve, the Rufiji River Camp provides a variety of game viewing opportunities. Its privileged riverside location, which includes its own boat slip and flat-bottomed game-watching boats, makes for a rare chance to enjoy a floating safari. A leisurely day-long cruise allows me to explore the lush riverbanks, islands and oxbow lakes upriver from the camp, and to enjoy a lovely riverside picnic lunch.

Home to over 350 species of birds, Selous is a birdwatcher’s paradise, and birding from the water for a front seat view of birds nesting along the banks is a photographer’s dream. It allows me to capture such close-up gems as my only sighting ever of a black heron, the only heron to fish by forming a canopy over the water with its wings, thus reducing glare and attracting preys to the shade. I am also able to document the unique moment when a startled  Goliath heron realizes that the fish he had just caught for its breakfast proves to be larger than its gullet can ingurgitate.

The Best of the Bush

A herd of giraffes scampers at our approach.

A lion cub wanders away from its mother.

Game drives in the camp’s open-sided vehicles are equally amazing. Buffalos, zebras and all manners of antelopes are everywhere. Breeding herds of elephants nudging their calves along as they forage through the underbrush are also a frequent sight; as are families of giraffes swaying across our path, or pausing to prune the underside of thorn acacias into neat umbrellas while they wait for their wobbly calves to catch up. On one very special drive, I spend delightful moments watching a pair of lionesses patiently nursing their cubs, while trying with limited success to keep the most adventurous of the offsprings in check.

Back at the camp, my spacious side-entrance tent is especially light and welcoming. Nestled in a grove of mature trees and raised on a high deck under thatch, it features a wrap-around veranda with two separate lounging areas overlooking the river to give a whole new meaning to the concept of armchair safari. In addition to the large pods of hippos jostling for position in the water, I have a clear view of the far bank where rows of crocodiles laze in the sun and elephants come to drink. Meanwhile, every  rustle in the canopy is a bird sighting opportunity – or a hint that a hopeful vervet monkey is getting ready to pounce on any snack I may have left unguarded.

Pods of hippos were a constant sight in the river.

With its sprawling, open-sided central lounge and dinning area taking full advantage of its scenic setting in the heart of some of the best wildlife viewing in East Africa and its welcoming relaxed atmosphere, my stay at the Rufiji River Camp is a grand finale worthy of my memorable tour of the unfairly overlooked wilderness reserves of Tanzania’s Southern Circuit. 

Endangered Eden

The waterbuck is instantly identifiable by the distinctive white ring on its rear.

Tanzania has long been considered one of Africa’s prime hunting destination and remains to this day a major draw for safari hunters. More than sixty species can legally be hunted, including four of the famed “big fives” – buffalo, elephant, leopard and lion. Only the critically endangered, rhino escapes the list, but not the poachers. The country remains frequently mentioned in the international press for large scale poaching incidents, illegal ivory, rhino horn and bush meat traffic.

While still abundant in the “photographic tourism” part of the park, the elephant population is being decimated by poaching.

Crocodiles navigate the Rufiji River.

Since its inception over a century ago, Selous has been managed as a hunting reserve with only a small portion – approximately eight percent in the spectacular northeastern part of the reserve – eventually dedicated to photographic tourism. Vast areas south of the Rufiji River remain allocated to game hunting through a number of privately leased hunting concessions.

Designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1982 for ”its wildlife diversity and its natural immensity relatively undisturbed by human impact,” Selous is the only site in southern Tanzania to have ever been awarded this distinction. However, by 2014, the characteristics that had earned the site its prestigious status had deteriorated to the point that Selous was placed on the list of World Heritage in Danger. Rampant poaching had reduced the elephant population in the reserve from nearly 110,000 in the mid-1970 to less than 16,000 – a loss of ninety percent in four decades. And the rhino population had dwindled dangerously close to extinction within the Selous ecosystem.

Nyerere National Park

Siesta time in the Nyerere National Park.

In December 2019, it was officially announced by the government of Tanzania that to further develop tourism in Selous, the northern part of the reserve would be excised to form a new national park to be known as the Nyerere National Park in honor of the first president of Tanzania, Mwalimu Julius Kambarage Nyerere. The new park, the largest in Africa with a surface of 31,000 square kilometers (12,000 square miles) or two-thirds of the original reserve, now falls under the authority of the Tanzania National Parks Authority (TANAPA). This new status means that hunting is no longer permitted in the area that falls within the park, which doesn’t change anything for visitors to the previously designated  photographic area as no hunting was ever permitted there anyway.

However the residual one-third of the land is still managed as a hunting reserve. It remains to be seen whether this change in status can reverse the devastation that industrial-scale poaching has inflicted in recent decades on the elephant population and the ensuing damaging effect on the ecosystem of the overall Selous area.

The Rufiji River Camp stretches along a scenic bluff overlooking the river.

Good to Know

  • Getting there — Tanzania’s main airport is Julius Nyerere International Airport, located 13 kilometers (eight miles) southwest of Dar es Salaam, which is the entry-point for visitors to the southern parks. There are no direct flights from North America to Tanzania, and only one direct route from Europe: KLM Royal Dutch Airlines, which offers a daily flight from Amsterdam to Dar es Salaam. Another option is to fly to Nairobi, Kenya, where there are a number of daily connection possibilities to Dar es Salaam.  From there, the Selous Game Reserve Mtemere airstrip, the closest to the Rufiji River Camp, is a mere 45-minute flight.
  • Getting around — My entire itinerary from Dar es Salaam throughout the Southern Circuit, including all air transfers via Safari Air Link, was seamlessly managed by Foxes Safaris.
  • Environmental Red Flags — Unrestrained poaching is not the only threat to the survival of the overall Selous area as one of the greatest wildlife conservancies in Africa. 
    • Uranium mining. A boundary change was decreed in the past decade to excise some  400 square kilometers (155 square miles) from the southwestern border of the reserve, thus allowing the exploitation of uranium deposits. This would pose a serious environmental threat to the surrounding areas in the form of toxic emissions (most notably Radon and Carbon Monoxide), windblown dust dispersal and leaching of contaminant including heavy metals and arsenic into the water. While at the time of this writing, according to the State Party no active mining is taking place, the threat potential continues to exist.  
    • Hydropower dam. Although highly controversial, construction of a dam across the Rufiji River at the scenic Stiegler’s Gorge, in the northeastern confines of the park, received government approval in 2018. Construction began in 2019.  After completion, the power station and reservoir lake are projected to occupy approximately 1350 square kilometers (520 square miles) within the Nyerere National Park and cause serious environmental concerns. Firstly, the dam will flood over 2.2% of the parks total area, reducing its forest and riverine habitat. Additionally, the dam project will directly impact a main area of biodiversity in the reserve, a large area of wetland, marsh and savanna, and risk cutting off wildlife migratory routes. 
    • NGO reactions. UNESCO World Heritage Center, the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF) as well as other prominent international conservation NGO’s  have registered strong opposition to both projects and are calling for action to protest them.

Location, location, location!

Rufiji River Camp, Tanzania

African Diaries — The Remote Parks of Tanzania’s Southern Circuit

African Diaries — The Remote Parks of Tanzania’s Southern Circuit

The Republic of Tanzania is the largest country in East Africa. Of its landmass of 885,800 square kilometers (or 342,000 square miles – approximately twice the size of California), over 25 percent consists of 21 national parks and other wildlife management areas, home to two world-famous safari destinations: the Serengeti plain and the Ngorongoro crater. Yet, together these two legendary Northern Tanzania national parks account for less than ten percent of the total preservation land in the country. What of the remainder?

The Other Tanzania

Game is exceptionally abundant in the remote wilderness of the Southern Circuit.

As I began to plan my visit to Tanzania, it became obvious that in the southern and western parts of the country, an off the beaten track complex of parks and reserves whose combined area covered more than 77,000 square kilometers (20,020 square miles), remained mostly overlooked by international visitors. These great swaths of remote wilderness, home to prolific wildlife and mainly unscathed by human interaction, became an irresistible draw for me.

Safari Air Link brings visitors to the Ruaha River Lodge airstrip.

Of the handful of upscale bush camp operators that service the area, one  immediately caught my attention: Foxes Safaris. Owned and managed for three generations by the Fox family, the organization is a recognized pioneer in establishing camps in prime game-viewing locations within the southern parks.



Stanley’s Kopje is perched on a rocky knoll.

To ensure the transfer of visitors across the vast distances between these parks, they have also  implemented Safari Air Link, a sister company with a small fleet of Cessnas offering daily flights between Dar es Salam and the various destinations of the Southern Circuit. Their regular scheduling and friendly bush pilots put the pleasure back into flying as I made my way across the raw immensity of Southern and Western Tanzania.

Mikumi National Park

Shady trees are favorite lounging stops for Mikumi lions.

After an endless international journey to Dar es Salaam, the first stop on my month-long itinerary around Tanzania and the start of my Southern Circuit adventure, was Mikumi, the fourth largest national park in the country. It was home to multiple prides of lions as well as a variety of smaller predators, large herds of buffalos, zebras, and everything that made for gratifying game drives. A short 90- minute flight from Dar es Salaam, or half a day’s drive away, it was also the only national park readily accessible from the metropolis on the Red Sea, making it an attractive destination from the city. Yet visitors were few, and international tourists notably rare.

Mikumi abounds with varied wildlife.

My home in Mikumi was Stanley’s Kopje, the only camp in the entire park to be perched on a high rocky knoll (or kopje – Stanley’s being a nod to the famed 19th century explorer Morton Stanley, who led an expedition through the area). Historic anecdote aside, the site was spectacular, with the camp’s dining area and lounge enjoying a circular view of the vast Mkata flood plain and overlooking one of the best game-viewing area of the park: the Mwanamboga waterhole. The guest tents were spaced lower down the hill, around the perimeter of the kopje, and raised on high wooden platforms under thatch roofs that also shaded their oversized deck.

The fiery sunset dips behind the Udzungwa Mountains.

It was an ideal place to relax and reacquaint myself with the thrill of the African bush. From the serenity of my private veranda, I whiled away the lazy post-game drive hours watching herds of buffalos lumber their way across the plain, and elephants converging toward their favorite watering hole. Meanwhile on the horizon, a fiery sunset outlined the Udzungwa Mountains, and the heady sounds of the bush filled the air, complete with the vibrating roar of a lion coming from somewhere at the base of the knoll.

By the Ruaha Riverside

The Ruaha National is famous for its ancient baobabs. This one has become a scratching post for elephants.

It was a one-hour flight from Mikumi to Ruaha, due west over a landscape of increasingly high, craggy ridges and agricultural plains. Then the farmland subsided, replaced by forest and rock. We were approaching a rippling plateau bordered by a steep escarpment, and a dusty airstrip with a welcoming committee of parading giraffes. This was Ruaha, the second largest national park it Tanzania, known for its exceptionally large population of elephants, giraffes and greater kudus, and for the outstanding diversity of its wildlife. But when I think of Ruaha, what first comes to mind are the baobabs, hundreds of the ancient giants in colossal groves across the plain, and clinging to the rock all the way up the escarpment.

Elephants come to drink in the rock pools of the Ruaha River.

Then there was the Ruaha River Lodge itself, stretched along the bank of the river that gave it and the park their name, where game-viewing was a never-ending feast. It started at breakfast in the riverside dining room, with a Goliath heron coming to preen on the bank right in front of us, and baboons bouncing from rock to rock across the water. It continued with lunch at the hilltop dining room, and panoramic view of a herd of elephants coming to drink in the rock pool below. And evenings on the veranda of my banda (Swahili for cottage) were equally exciting, with hippos stopping by, just a few feet away from my banister, to chomp on the landscape on their way to the river.

The Ultimate Wilderness

Bull giraffes struggle for supremacy.

It was another two hours westward to Katavi, the third-largest park in Tanzania, and a place so far beyond remote that it receives barely one thousand visitors per year. What enchanted me there was Africa at its primeval best, the rich and varied wildlife going about the rhythm of its existence as it had for millennia in a pristine environment of reed-filled floodplains and dense woodlands. On my first morning, I woke up to find a herd of elusive elands emerging from the misty silence of the plain to graze beneath my deck. Later on, I was treated to a neck joust by bull giraffes, each determined to assert his supremacy over the herd.

Katavi Wilderness Camp was nestled in a grove of soaring  marula and tamarind trees.

Nestled under the canopy of soaring marula and tamarind trees, the Katavi Wilderness Camp was an intimate enclave of luxury overlooking the Katisunga Plain as it stretched to the Lyamba-lya-Mfipa escarpment on the horizon. Beyond the pleasure of finding contemporary comforts in such an improbable place, what made the camp truly special was its attentive staff and guide who welcomed me to a level of gracious hospitality worthy of the East African safari tradition of a bygone era.

According to the park authorities records, I was one of only three tourists in the park at the time of my visit, and I never came across the other two. Katavi gave me the intoxicating experience that I had, for a few days, Africa all to myself.

Large herds of buffalos roam the remote parks of the Southern Circuit.

Good to Know

Getting there — Tanzania’s main airport is Julius Nyerere International Airport, located 13 kilometers(8 miles) southwest of Dar es Salaam, which is the entry-point for visitors to the southern parks. There are no direct flights from North American to Tanzania, and only one direct route from Europe: KLM Royal Dutch Airlines, which offers a daily flight from Amsterdam to Dar es Salaam. Another option is to fly to Nairobi, Kenya, where there are a number of daily connection possibilities to Dar es Salaam.

Getting around — My entire itinerary from Dar es Salaam throughout the Southern Circuit, including all air transfers via Safari Air Link, was seamlessly managed by Foxes Safaris.

Location, location, location!




Farewell to Africa – for now

Farewell to Africa – for now

“Once the red dirt of Africa gets into your hiking boots, you will never get it out.”  The place was Kuyenda, a tiny bush camp in the heart of Zambia’s remote South Luangwa National Park and the first stop on my first African safari. The year was 2006. The soft-spoken words came from a man who knew what he was talking about.


Zambia South Luangwa, Phil Berry

Phil Berry is one of the most respected naturalists in Zambia.

Born in England, Phil Berry moved to Africa as a child and grew up in Northern Rhodesia long before it became the Republic of Zambia in 1964. And there he was still, now a living legend well beyond the Luangwa Valley, for his life-long dedication to the protection of elephants and rhinos, and as a pioneer of the walking safaris for which the park is famous.

I nodded. I was still groggy from the 48-hour journey from North America but after one single day in the bush, I already understood. The day’s game drives had taken us from elephants tearing at Mopani trees for their breakfast and hills dotted with skittish impalas ready to bounce away at the first hint of menace to a pride of lions still sleeping off last night’s feast in a shady glade. Then there had been a intoxicating African sunset and a lovely al fresco dinner under the black velvet and diamonds sky. I was already hooked.


Kenya highlands black rhino

In the highlands of Kenya, my first rhino sighting ever.

It took three trips before I was finally able to sight a rhino; and a close up encounter it was. I was at the Ol Pejeta Conservancy, in the highlands of Central Kenya. My guide stopped our open land cruiser and pointed into the dense brush. “Rhino,” he whispered.

I got so excited that I jumped up to stand on my seat and brace myself on the overhead roll bars of the open-top vehicle, camera at the ready,thus forgetting one of the cardinal rules of game watching (no abrupt move). The startled black male rhino came charging out of the brush, coming straight at us before finally making a ninety degree turn a mere six feet from impact!

Okavango Delta Elephant

This old bull stares us down and out of his watery kingdom.

Who knew elephants could charge so fast in water? Also in the Okavango Delta, this large bull took exception to our boat navigating in “his” channel. He started menacingly toward us until we finally got the outboard motor into reverse.





Masai Mara newborn Elephant

Newborn elephant learns how to nurse.

We came across this elephant cow in the Masai Mara National Reserve in western Kenya. She stood patiently while her hour-old calf tried to figure out what to do with its nasal appendage in order to start nursing.





Botswana - Leopard in the Okavango Delta.

In Botswana, my first sighting ever of a leopard in a tree.

While I had seen leopards on several occasions on previous trips, I didn’t get to observe one settled in a tree until my fourth visit to Africa. We were driving in the waterlogged world of Botswana’s Okavango Delta when my ranger pointed into the tree canopy right above our open vehicle. Lucky for us that this magnificent cat had obviously already enjoyed a large dinner.



Botswana-Kalahari lion

After a blood-curdling warning roar, this old timer resumed his benevolent attitude.

We were settling in to enjoy our tailgate sundowner cocktails in a sandy clearing in Bostwana’s Kalahari when we heard a chilling moan nearby. It turned into a high-energy rumble, then escalated into a full-blown roar that made the air vibrate around us and my entire body shake.

My guide calmly motioned to me to climb back into the cruiser. I certainly remembered the “no sudden move” rule this time! We then eased at very low speed in the direction of the roar.

Having served us notice that we were trespassing, the old lion had resumed a deceivingly benevolent demeanor.


Then there are all the unique, memorable people I’ve met along the way, too many to include, so I will only mention these two:


My great Zu/hoasi Bushman guide, Cobra.

In the Kalahari, Cobra, a Zu/’hoasi bushman elder, member of one of the oldest cultures on the planet took me on a desert nature walk. He mainly spoke the distinctive clicking language of the Kalahari Bushmen, but somehow we understood each other.




Masai schoolgirl

Masai first-grader and her prized book bag.

In a country where the literacy rate for women is still only around fifty percent, I was delighted to meet this enthusiastic Masai first-grader at a charter school supported by andBeyond, the safari organization with which I was traveling through Northern Tanzania. She even let me admire her book bag, her proudest possession.

Location, location, location!

South Luangwa

Postcard from the edge of the crater

Postcard from the edge of the crater

This is week four of my journey around Tanzania. Several days ago, I entered the Northern Circuit, an itinerary that is taking me to the destinations safari legends are made of: Serengeti, the endless plain of the Masai and Lake Manyara, bright pink from thousands of flamingos. Today, I am headed for the holy of holies of East Africa’s wildlife destinations, and a place that was on by bucket list before I knew I had one, the Ngorongoro Crater.

A three-million-year-old volcano

Ngorongoro Crater dawn

Dawn rises over the Ngorongoro Crater

In the midst of rolling highlands on the southeastern border of the Serengeti National Park, the three million year old crater is all that remains of a once massive volcano. It is the largest intact caldera in the world, a large fertile bowl with permanent sources of water and steep sides that reach 600 meters (2,000 feet) above the crater floor. A diverse population of over 25,0000 animals inhabit its 260 square kilometer (100 square mile) area. It is one of the rare places in Africa that can boast to offer visitors a good chance to see all of the Big Five (elephant, buffalo, rhino, lion and leopard) in one single game drive.

A fairy tale village

With these statistics buzzing in my mind, I can’t wait to get into the crater; until I arrive at the Ngorongoro Crater Lodge. I can think of very few places worthy of traveling around the world just for the pleasure of staying there, but this is definitely one of them. Perched on stilts at the very edge of the rim for a jaw-dropping view of the crater and the silvery mirror of Lake Magadi in the center of it, the lodge is a fairytale village of mud and thatch inspired by Maasai mayattas and the architecture of the Dogon villages that cling precariously to the hills of Mali, half a continent away.

Ngorongoro Crater Lodge Villa

Ngorongoro Crater Lodge villas.

However, any primitive reference stops at the door. Inside, a Victorian-inspired extravaganza awaits, with cascading crystal chandeliers reflected in antique mirrors, soaring French windows draped in miles of raw silk, and cut velvet sofas piled with jewel-toned pillows. There are urns filled with long-stem roses everywhere, even in my bathroom, on an antique pedestal behind the deep freestanding bathtub.

Roses and Rhinos

Ngorongoro Crater Lodge

My villa is a retreat of serene luxury.

Then there is the over-the-top service. Morning wake-up tea is delivered to my suite in a gleaming silver tea set, with freshly baked cookies in a cut glass jar. Daily laundry is returned wrapped in crimson silk, a rose tied into its bow. In the dining room, haute cuisine meals are served with the flair of a multi-star restaurant. And when I return from dinner, there is a fire in my fireplace and a decanter of cherry set within arm’s reach of my wingchair. I wonder if they’d let me move in?

What about the wildlife?

A pair of rhinos march off to a water hole.

A pair of rhinos march off to a water hole.

Ah yes, the original reason for my visit… As anticipated, wildlife viewing is outstanding; and fortunately for me, so is my guide, Edwin. While we don’t see any leopard, we witness a cheetah kill within a half hour of my arrival into the crater. The next day, we spot 28 lions in one single morning (half of the resident population). But the game is so habituated to visitors that there is a wildlife park feel to the experience. When we stop to observe a pride, one of the lionesses comes to lounge in the shade of our vehicle.

Predictably, the high density of game draws an equal proportion of tourists. When a pair rare black rhinos is spotted crossing the open plain, I count 18 vehicles converging toward them! Fortunately Edwin anticipates the beasts’ itinerary, and whisks me to a place further down the trail, where for a moment at least, I can observe them in relative privacy.

A Few Souvenirs

Location, location, location!

Ngorongoro Crater

Postcard from Eden

Postcard from Eden

For the past week, I have been working my way westward, following an itinerary commonly known as Tanzania’s Southern Circuit; great swaths of stunning wilderness spread across the southern part of the country. The largest of its national parks are located here, teaming with game. Yet, due to the lack of tourism infrastructure, it is a place that most of the three quarter of a million yearly visitors to Tanzania never see.

The end of the road

Men puzzle over a tire.

“This doesn’t look good!”

Now I have reached the end of the road, literally. Katavi is the third largest park in Tanzania, and a place so remote that it only receives a handful of visitors per year. The Cessna that brought me here only comes twice a week. As for road travel, don’t even ask.

My guide meets me at the airstrip and introduces himself as Apollo. “We need to stop in town to pick up a few things,” he informs me as he heaves my duffle bag into the open land cruiser. Town turns out to be a cluster of shacks lined up along a sun-baked red dirt road. Apollo vanishes and I sit in the cruiser, glad for this rare opportunity to take in a glimpse of rural African life. A few men are crouched by the side of an eighteen-wheeler, looking quizzically at one of the tires; a woman cleans a large catfish in a plastic bucket. They pretend not to notice me while I furtively snap a few pictures. I know it’s bad etiquette but I can’t resist.

Into Eden

Katavi elephants.

Elephants stomp into the underbrush.

We careen down the road in a mist of red dust, Apollo and I, and two camp staff who have by now joined us, until we turn into a spongy track under an arch of dense foliage. A barely visible sign informs me that we have entered the park. It’s the start of the wet season. There are elephants, zebras and giraffes everywhere, gorging on tender new shoots. “You are one of only three guests,” Apollo mentions casually, as we finally emerge at the edge of the flood plain. I take it to mean at the camp, but it turns out to be in the entire park. And so it is that I enter my personal Eden, the Katavi Wilderness Camp.

Primeval paradise

The Lyamba-Iya-Mfina escarpment.

The Lyamba-Iya-Mfina escarpment borders the flood plain.

This is Africa at its pristine best, rich in game and birds going about the rhythm of their existence just as they have for millennia, and mine alone. On the first morning, I wake up to find a herd of usually elusive elands grazing beneath my deck. My tent is a comfortable canvas bungalow under a thatched roof (and with modern plumbing). It is raised on a wooden platform overlooking the undulating expense of the reed-filled Katisuna plain and the misty outline of the Lyamba-Iya-Mfipa escarpment beyond. I could sit here all day. But Apollo awaits, eager to shown me crowned cranes dancing their mating dance in the morning sun, prides of lions lounging in the reeds, journeys of giraffes strutting across the plain and birds galore. For a few magical days, I experience what Eden must have been, before apples and serpents.

Location, location, location!