Birding with Ram Gopalakrishnan: Camping on the Kalahari

When my wife said she was invited to Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe for a conference, my ears perked up. Wasn't that one of the seven natural wonders of the world, and the gateway to the Kalahari in Botswana, I asked? It even had an airport with a convenient one stop connection from Chennai via Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. I'm definitely tagging along, I said.

The full moon lit up our campsite, compensating for the lack of electricity. An African Barred Owlet hooted away till it giving away its location under the glare of our vehicle headlights. Pasta dinner tasted delicious, despite being illuminated by car headlights rather than candles. We dozed off readily and slept deeply till we were awakened by a cacophony of bird calls in the morning. The sound of lions grunting nearby and honey badgers foraging at the campsite hardly interrupted our slumber.

We were in Chobe National Park, in the Kalahari landscape of Botwsana, having got a chance to camp a couple of nights under canvas tents in the middle of the Park. Defined by the Chobe river which separates northern Botswana from Namibia before joining the Zambezi to make up the iconic Victoria Falls, Chobe is literally elephant central with a polulation of 50,000 elephants and a hotspot of savanna biodiversity with not just the big five mammals (lion, leopard, buffalo, elephant and rhino), but a host of other mammals and 450 bird species.

Before we drove in from Kasane, the gateway to the Park, we did a two hour boat ride on the river. Apart from the huge Nile crocodiles, Cape buffalos and hippos, scores of waders, geese and lapwings dotted the sandy banks. A huge Goliath Heron and a couple of cryptic Water Thicknees watched us impassively. He obligatory African Fish Eagle waited for its next meal. Water monitor lizards slid into the river. For a prize in bill coloration and pattern, the Saddle-billed Stork surely would come in first.

Herds of zebra dotted the vast Chobe river plain as we headed out after breakfast. A pair of Kori Bustards strutted elegantly across the plain. We had scrupulously avoided the rainy season, but what we hadn't anticipated was a sandstorm. Despite bright sunlight, the howling wind and swirling fine mud reduced visibility to a few meters and brought birding to a grinding halt. A solitary lioness in the dusty haze and some magnificent Roan antelopes crossing the road was all we could manage for an hour. Luckily the winds died down and it was back to business as usual. We watched a huge group of elephants crossing the road in front of, and behind us: slightly nervously, when the driver turned off the engine! Red-billed and Swainson's Spurfowls posed for photos. All hell suddenly broke loose as a leopard decided to use the shade of the cars watching him to cross the road underneath them.

Hornbills on the ground are unusual in Asia but Southern Red-billed Hornbills foraged all over the African savannah, with relatively few tall trees. Bradfield's hornbills hovered overhead and flopped literally to our feet for crumbs as we sat down for lunch at camp. Our cook had managed a sumptuous fare of salad, fried rice, eggs, baked beans, toast and sausages that mandated the obligatory siesta in the afternoon heat before it was time for the evening safari. Watching a pride of four lionesses in the gold of the setting sun was the perfect sun-downer for the day. A massive male lion barely noticed us as we passed a few meters away.

Having drunk our fill of large mammals, the last day was spent birding: exotic names like the Gray Go-Away bird, Southern Cordonbleu, Green-backed Camaroptera and Tropical Boubou swelled our list. Two lovely sightings left us smiling for a while: the beautifully patterned Red-headed Bustard and Double-banded Sandgrouse. A massive herd of 50 odd elephants bid us goodbye as we exited the park.

Victoria Falls was our next halt: we wondered how amazed Dr Livingstone must have felt in 1855 when he became the first European to see the majestic grandeur of the roaring Zambezi River tumbling down, depositing spray high into the air. The local name is Mosi O Tunya 'the smoke that thunders’: first you see the spray from afar, then you hear the roar, then you get drenched when you approach close and finally you see the plunging waters. African Gray and Trumpeter Hornbills swelled the hornbill clan further, and we lucked out with a sighting of the uncommon and spectacularly green Klaas’ Cuckoo.

As we flew back out of Victoria Falls with dozens of photos and memories and close to a 100 new bird species on our list, we were thankful indeed that the natural treasures of Africa were still well-preserved for future generations: book your tickets!