Riding with Lions by Julie Miller

It was the animal version of the raised middle finger – with his trunk held high and ears flapping frantically, I knew enough about inter-species body language to know that this bull elephant was not in mood for socialising. It was at about this time that I started to regret asking for a docile horse – Linyati, unfazed by yet another boring elephant sighting, had dropped his head to graze, tearing at the long, golden grass without a care in the world. In the meantime, PJ was edging closer and closer to the cranky beast, motioning to me silently to take a photo. Never have I been so nervous, so delighted, so aware of every fibre of my being, from racing pulse to sweating palms. My hands trembled as I squeezed the shutter on my camera, the buzzing automatic wind-on shattering the silence. My heart was in my throat; my eyes filled with tears.

For nature lovers, there is surely no greater thrill than a close-up encounter with the amazing wildlife of Africa. I feel privileged to have fulfilled a life-long dream, and blessed that I did so from the best vantage point in the world – from the back of a horse.

This is surely the optimum method of game-viewing. Roaring across rutted tracks in a 4x4 may be fast and efficient, but the animals will always hear you coming and bid a hasty retreat. On a horse, the approach is silent and intense. Unencumbered by physical barriers of glass and steel, you become part of the landscape, at one with its wildlife. You are a participant in the environment, not just a casual observer. There are also the obvious advantages of speed in the necessity of a quick getaway!

In the case of our encounter with the irritable bull elephant, our guide PJ Bestelink knew exactly when to call it a day. Once alerted to our scent, the elephant’s nervous stance had turned to aggression, ears flapping and trunk raised in warning. One menacing step forward - and PJ chose to retreat, signalling for us to walk off, quietly. When confronted with a giant of the African bush, there is no room for argument.

Horse riding in itself is inherently dangerous – even more so when riding amongst unpredictable wildlife. For this reason, safety is of paramount importance at Okavango Horse Safaris. Rides are always accompanied by at least two experienced guides, both armed with bearbangers – a pen-sized device which shoots a loud, explosive pellet. A .357 rifle is also carried, more for peace of mind than for necessity – to date, it has never been used. Before embarking on a trek, guests are given a detailed safety rundown; they are then carefully matched with their horses, according to their ability.

Most importantly, PJ and his wife Barney insist that their guests are all experienced horse riders - competent, confident and capable of galloping out of trouble if necessary. This is definitely not a sight-seeing trip for beginners, and that is made quite clear from the moment of inquiry.

Okavango Horse Safaris is based on 2500 square kilometres of private concession on the edge of the Moremi Game Reserve, a short charter flight from the Botswana capital of Maun. This is pure wilderness – there are no fences, no tarred roads, no phone lines, no sign of other human habitation.

The safari camp is entirely self-contained – power is provided by solar panels and meals are prepared in a traditional earthenware oven. An electric fence surrounds the whole compound to protect its human and equine inhabitants from prowling wildlife.

Despite its isolation, the base camp of Kujwana couldn’t be more comfortable. Nestled amongst wild fig and sausage trees riddled with raucous baboons and cheeky monkeys, the camp overlooks a permanent pool on the Xudum river system, a serene location offering glorious views of both sunrise and sunset.

Large safari-style canvas tents on raised decks provide sleeping quarters for two, with flushing toilets and hot running water a welcome surprise. Meals are always fresh and delicious, and an endless supply of cold beer and wine relaxes after a long day in the saddle. With only eight guests per week, a riding holiday in the delta is an intimate affair, with PJ and Barney providing hours of entertainment as they share tales of their bush exploits around the campfire.

Treks are generally conducted early in the morning, when the wildlife is most active and visible. There is no set route - the four-hour rides are determined by the presence of game. Following freshly-carved elephant highways, the group skirts around palm islands and lagoons, across plains of aromatic sage and turpentine grasses, and through the golden expanse of the malopos, the wide channels that fill with water during the flood. Returning to camp by lunchtime, the afternoon is dedicated to relaxation, followed by a jeep safari and sundowners by a scenic lake, the encroaching darkness drawing out a myriad of creatures who are happiest under the protective cover of night.

In terms of wildlife sightings, Botswana’s Okavango Delta is one of the richest treasure troves in Africa. This enormous wetland is an oasis in the heart of one of the harshest deserts on earth, teeming with animal and birdlife which flock to its life-giving waters and abundant feeding grounds. Lions, cheetahs and packs of wild dogs hunt on the open veldt; giraffe gracefully browse amongst the treetops; while herds of wildebeest, buffalo and zebra congregate on floodplains surrounding permanent waterholes. The birdlife here is also incredibly rich and varied, with over 500 species on record.

This Garden of Eden is truly an oddity of nature. The Okavango River rises at the end of the rainy season, trickling south from Angola like a leaky garden hose, spreading like an open palm and swelling into floodwaters before being consumed by the dry air and the thirsty sands of the Kalahari. Often described as the ‘river that never reaches the sea’, the Okavango is consumed in a maze of lagoons, islands and channels covering an area of around 13,000 square kilometres, a watery wilderness of crystal pools, shallow reed beds and islands of towering palm trees.

This annual miracle occurs between April and October; after that, the waters begin to recede. Paradoxically, the lowest water levels occur during the wet season (from November to March) when the game disperses over the rich grasslands. Most lodges close during this time, reopening when the weather is more reliable and the game more concentrated. From a riding perspective, the most fascinating time to visit the Okavango Delta is between July and September when the water level is still high. With deep channels to swim and soft ground underfoot, the going can be challenging - but the exhilaration of hitting a lily-covered lagoon at a full gallop, water spraying under flailing hooves, is incomparable - a riding experience of a lifetime.

There is also great appeal in visiting just prior to the flood, when the vast grasslands invite long, gleeful gallops amongst herds of zebra, giraffe, tsessebe and lechwe. At permanent waterholes, hippos congregate in stagnant pools, protecting the precious liquid from marauding crocs and warthog families wallowing on the muddy banks; whilst amongst waist-high golden grasses, lion doze in the sun, waiting opportunistically for migrating herds of buffalo and antelope to pass their way.

An idyllic scene indeed – until we stumble across it on foot, leading our horses during a well-deserved break. As we rounded a clearing on the edge of a palm island, one of our sharp-eyed African grooms softly uttered one terrifying word – “lion”. Breaking all world mounting records, I flung myself into the saddle and prepared for flight. “Just sit quietly,” warned PJ, surveying the situation with his bushman’s eye.

Camouflaged amongst the sea of gold were three huge heads – two lionesses and the ruffled mane of a juvenile male. We were later to discover that these three were well known amongst researchers, a renegade female and her two adolescent cubs who had severed ties with the main pride and were hunting alone. Being territorial as well as lazy creatures, lions do not wander far in search of prey – they simply wait for whatever crosses their path.

And there we were, eight entrees and main meals, all in one delicious package….

As the lions’ curiosity turned to active interest, PJ and Barney rode off slowly at an angle, bearbangers drawn in anticipation. Our hosts’ caution was well-founded – the young male was now in stalking mode, slinking through the grass in an attempt to round the group up from behind.

I, of course, was in my usual position at the rear – documentary images of the slowest zebra dragged to a gory death flashing through my mind. “This is no time to eat,” I muttered to lazy Linyati, prodding him in the ribs with my boot. “Keep up, no dawdling!” My heart pounded with sheer terror, my hands trembled and sweat tricked down my face – would the lions be able to sense my fear, and target me as easy prey?

Crossing that kilometre of open plain under the hungry gaze of the King of the Jungle was probably the most excruciating, adrenaline-pumping twenty minutes of my life! I didn’t draw breath until we were well out of danger, Barney visibly relaxing and laughing with relief as she put her bear-banger back in its holder.

Then, of course, came the obligatory ‘near-miss’ stories – of a lioness lunging at PJ as he made a similar escape, or of the time his jeep broke down and he was forced to scramble up a tree for safety. These jaw-dropping tales always make great campfire entertainment – I was just relieved that I didn’t have one to tell!

The daily challenges of the African bush are clearly an elixir of life for PJ Bestelink. This Namibian-born geologist has spent a lifetime delving into its intricacies, and his passion for the flora and fauna of the Okavango Delta is contagious. His sharp eyes never miss a detail – a leopard spoor in the sand, a marula tree stripped bare by an elephant, a vulture soaring above a freshly-killed carcass. Every creature fascinates and delights – this wiry frontier cowboy obviously loves his job and his adopted homeland.

Complementing this boundless enthusiasm is Barney’s dedication to her beloved horses, a factor which makes the Okavango Horse Safari one of the most applauded horse treks in the world. It’s not easy to keep 60 horses in this harsh environment – veterinarians and farriers are hard to come by, hard feed has to be trucked in from South Africa, and the horses must be stabled and protected around the clock from prowling carnivores.

It is testament to Barney’s horse husbandry that her team remain in top condition – sleek, fit and beautifully educated. Many of them are thoroughbreds, some ex-racehorses rescued from Zimbabwe – yet all have adapted well to life in the bush, taking the new sights, smells and sounds in their stride.

This is also the challenge for Okavango Horse Safari guests – to sharpen their senses, absorb the nuances of the African wilderness. After six days without the distractions of mobile phones, televisions or traffic, eyes and ears suddenly tune into a secret world, one which at first appeared silent and empty. Shadows on a vast plain become a mighty herd of buffalo; a dull roar their stampeding through the night. An endless horizon reveals the bobbing heads of passing giraffes; an empty lake disguises a kaleidoscope of curious eyes.

For me, the biggest awakening of all came courtesy of Linyati, my trusty four-legged safari companion. The natural act of grazing, the gentle rise and fall of his head as he chomped on the golden grass, was a signal to both man and beast to relax, to simply enjoy the moment. It was wise advice indeed.