Well, there was no orange juice, so technically they weren’t mimosas, but there was definitely champagne, which is the important part anyway… We were cruising through the reeds of the Okavango Delta, and the predicted heat of the day was beginning to settle in at 9am, so when we glided up to an ice bucket, a chilled bottle of bubbly, and a couple of glasses, we decided we’d found heaven in Botswana.
As much as champagne makes everything okay, the ‘heavenly’ description of the Okavango Delta had already been decided upon at this point. When we approached the awesome floating ice bucket of dreams, we were still catching our breath after having spotted a total of three Pel’s fishing owls!
We had climbed out of the mokoros and stepped onto a particularly tree-filled island, and were peering determinedly into the leafy clusters and scanning every branch for this very elusive bird. When not one, but two Pel’s fishing owls flew overhead, we thought we had seen all our luck, but then Mike (our tracker) pointed into a shady corner of the tree canopy and all pairs of binoculars shot up to eye sockets. A pair of eerily black eyes stared back at us, and in that moment I ticked off a bird far too special for my very amateur birding status.
When we arrived at Mapula Lodge the previous day, our guide, Albert, very courteously asked us what we were specifically interested in seeing. Photographer and filmmaker, Kevin MacLaughlin, and I agreed that what we were most interested in seeing was a Pel’s fishing owl, and could we please see one of those. It was a joke, of course, because one does not simply see a Pel’s fishing owl. Surprisingly, Albert didn’t give a great big belly laugh and shake his head at our ridiculous request; he quite reasonably said that he would try, and this gave us hope – a dangerous emotion to wield in the unpredictable African bush!
That morning we set out on the mokoros, armed with bird books, bird apps, bird lists, binoculars, and cameras. And hats, and sunscreen. Albert and Mike each polled a mokoro, and we positioned ourselves inside the dugout canoes and grinned with excitement as we pushed away from the bank and headed out into hippo territory. I was astonished at how much detail Albert could spot while he was simultaneously balancing on a narrow canoe and manouvering a long, wooden pole without so much as swaying. Frogs, butterflies, dragonflies, birds, nests, and snakes were pointed out along the way, and I couldn’t resist taking an unnecessary number of photos.
After being elegantly steered through the Okavango Delta in a traditional canoe for a luxurious amount of time, we pulled up at an island and it was announced that we were going to head out on foot and ‘try find that fishing owl’. The sound of Albert’s voice was so sweet at that moment. I think maybe Kevin also fell a little bit in love with him. Wide-eyed, and a little short of breath, we stepped onto Okavango soil and navigated through the enormous trees, over and under elephant-induced obstacles, purposefully avoiding some dagha-boys that Albert had spotted.
Once we had stared, long and hard, at this fantastic creature, and willed it to come out into the open (which it didn’t), we returned to the mokoros and were directed towards breakfast on Mapula’s wonderful deck. Thrilled and excited about our lucky morning, we couldn’t have expected it to get better, but then, the floating ice bucket came our way.
Had they planned for the owls to be there? No, don’t be ridiculous. The only possible explanation for the implausibly superb morning we had is that this was Botswana. We were in one of the wildest places on the African continent, one that has been titled a World Heritage Site. Magic just happens here, and I was just living the Botswana dream.