Top 20 Safari Photos

With just over four weeks left in sunny South Africa, we are beginning to face facts. Our days on safari are (likely) over. At least for a while.

But, we still have the memories … and the photos. Hundreds of them.

I narrowed down my favorite safari shots to the 20 photos below. Now, we need to pick the best one(s).

Which one is your favorite? Which one says safari to you? VOTE NOW!

Check out the slideshow, then choose your favorite in the poll below. Larger images are available by clicking the thumbnails at the bottom. Thanks!

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A Sense of Safari

It was late afternoon when the elephant took its last step. The young male, a sub-adult, likely broke away from the herd early in the day, trudged along a dirt path and lumbered into a thicket of suikerbos, where it fell, landing on its left side with a thud. In this position, prone, helpless, struggling to breathe, the young elephant died.

Natural causes, the ranger said, though it’s hard to say exactly what.

To the hyenas (brown and spotted), wild dogs, lions and other carnivores of the African bush, the reason for the elephant’s death does not matter. What matters is that dinner is served.

By the time we arrived on the scene – “we” being Jenny and I, Jenny’s parents, our ranger, Nick, our tracker, Max, and a young South African couple on their first safari – the carcass of the young elephant had become a sad, mangled, putrid smorgasbord. Just thinking about it now makes my stomach turn. The stench

But, on this Monday morning, there was no better place to be.

As we sat, quietly, in the open Land Cruiser, just feet from the rotting remains, we heard footsteps from behind. Two very wary, but very hungry, brown hyenas approached. They made a wide arc around our truck, stopping often to sniff the air and listen for possible competitors, before trotting over to the smelly elly. One quickly tore a hunk from the pachyderm’s posterior, but the other was spooked. We had all heard, just moments earlier, a lion roar from just beyond our position; the hyenas knew the cats were close.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by the crack of a snapped twig somewhere to the hyenas’ right, our left. Was it an elephant, coming to protect the sanctity of its fallen comrade? Ranger Nick reflexively reached for the ignition. A fellow elephant would be extremely upset to find that opportunistic scavengers had already eaten the juvenile’s neck and part of its back, ripped open its belly and removed its intestines. Ranger Nick was ready to reverse. (Good…the dead elephant stinks!)

Alas, it was not an elephant, but the hyenas bolted, nonetheless. The two mongrels figured themselves no match for what did emerge: four self-confident lions, looking to feed. A young male, two females and a cub sauntered over to the gray buffet. We watched, in awe, with shirt collars over our noses, as the lions dove in.

Young male lion and cub feasting on a dead elephant

But this moment, too, was short-lived. Again, the first lion roared from the bushes beyond. A rival pride was near. The absolutely rancid odor of death, of the disemboweled, dined-on elephant served as a breakfast beacon.

Time for us to leave.

The scene we witnessed, awesome and gruesome as it was, reminded me that as elusive as the Big Five animals can often be, each and every safari experience comes with a guarantee of another Big Five: the sights, sounds, feelings, tastes and smells of the African bush.

Of course, the sights are incredible, and the easiest to convey here. We can show you photos of the lions and the landscapes. You can see a red-billed oxpecker clinging to a giraffe’s neck. You can see a zebra foal nuzzling its mother. You can see a herd of playful elephants drinking and bathing in a watering hole. You can see Jenny’s mom serving as our tracker:

Jenny's mom, Sharon, in the tracker's seat on safari. Not sure what she sees...

When we share video, you can hear the birds chirping or the small trees snapping under the powerful game drive vehicle as it crashes through the bush. More often, you can hear Jenny asking me whether I’m “getting this on video.”

But, what’s more difficult to convey, despite video evidence, is the feeling of the bouncy, jostling, sometimes bone-jarring game drives. Or the warmth of the sun or the coolness of the wind. Or the prick of a thorn tree catching you on the shoulder as you walk through the bush searching for a safe place to pee.

And, regrettably, there is no word count, pixel width or megabyte capacity large enough to do justice to the tastes and smells of safari. After a few hours driving in the open vehicle, you’re bound to find yourself with a bit of gritty, red dust in your mouth, leaving you parched in a way that only a sundowner – perhaps a fruity Sauvignon blanc or a tangy gin and dry lemon – can remedy. All the while, your nose is working overtime, discerning scents as varied as the freshness of wild herbs and eucalyptus to the pungency of dung and death.

I only hope that we can hold on to the memories of these sensations long after we’ve left Africa. I hope that we can, while looking at the photos, watching the videos and telling the stories, remember what it felt like, what it tasted like, and what it smelled like to be out in the wild. I hope that we will always have this sense of safari.

At least we’ll have the photos.

Weekend at Vickie’s Pt. 2: Cruising the Chobe River with a Boy Named Diane

As if standing on a rock just above Victoria Falls watching the great Zambezi River rush past and disappear over the edge — or jumping backwards off a cliff into a gorge, 177 feet below — wasn’t enough excitement for one weekend, we decided to spend Day 3 in Zambia by going to … Botswana.

Although not part of the original plan, we learned of an opportunity to take a day trip to the famous Chobe National Park, just an hour or so from Victoria Falls. Operating on the We May Never Have This Chance Again principle, we signed up.

Departing at 7:30, our small bus reached the Kazungula border post at 8:30. Along the way, we passed through small settlements with a hodgepodge of buildings: some tin, some stone, some mud and thatch. Pantless children stood behind wooden fences; women washed clothes in colorful plastic buckets; chickens and goats roamed the roadsides.

The Kazungula border crossing is one of the more unique in the world. It’s the only place on the planet where four independent nations meet. Though there is some debate as to where the mid-river borders actually are, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and Namibia all come together in one quadripoint in Kazungula where the Zambezi River and Chobe River intersect.

Quadripoint at Kazungula between Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and Namibia

A reasonable person would expect to find a bridge spanning the river, allowing vehicular traffic (and cargo) to cross between countries efficiently. Unfortunately, Robert Mugabe is not a reasonable person. Zimbabwe still refuses to agree to any such construction, I suppose partially due to the fact that there is a bridge between Zimbabwe and Zambia in nearby Victoria Falls. As a result, semis loaded with goods heading to or from the four states (or other places on the continent, like South Africa and the DRC), must wait their turn to be ferried across the river. One by one.

The queue of trucks on the Zambian side stretched for nearly a mile. Our guide said the drivers may be forced to wait for a week or more before their turn comes. Africa time.

We, however, jumped the queue.

With the blue ink of the EXIT stamps from Zambian immigration drying in our passports, we pushed through the crowd of people clustered inside the tall, metal gates and walked with blinders past the hawkers in their Chipolopolo jerseys. “Remember me. Peter! I am Peter! When you return, remember Peter. Copper bracelets. Big Five carvings. Peter!”

Mercifully, the drone of the speedboat we boarded at the river’s edge soon drowned out the hawkers’ cries, and within 60 seconds we were across to Botswana.

Standing on shore was our ranger and guide for the day, a fit, handsome man named Diane. Though pronounced more like de-YAN-ee, seeing the shiny, gold name badge with “Diane” on his greenish-khaki shirt was, at first, rather strange.

We rode in an open safari vehicle from the river to the border post, where we were quickly processed by Botswana immigration before stepping on a conspicuously dirty sponge mat ostensibly designed to clean our shoes of anything that could transmit foot-and-mouth disease. From the spongy block, we could see another queue of trucks waiting to cross the river.

After ten minutes by highway in the open vehicle, we reached Chobe Safari Lodge, our departure point for the first activity: a river safari.

It was truly amazing to see the animals from the water, and to see so many species of animals that live on or near the water. It’s a completely different feel from a traditional game drive.

Wire-tailed swallows enjoy a ride on our boat in Chobe National Park

We were pretty lucky that day. The sightings were nice, especially of hippos, crocs and birds.

Pod of hippos in Chobe National Park

Large crocodile and great white egret in Chobe National Park

African darter (with fish) in Chobe National Park

We also spent some quality time with an older bull elephant who had crossed the deep river channel in order to munch on the soft green grasses of Sedudu Island.

Bull elephant in Chobe National Park

If the day had ended here, we would have been extremely satisfied, but we were only halfway through. We still had a game drive after lunch!

After the buffet, a brief chat with a group of retirees from Iowa, and a bit of a torrential rainstorm, we donned ponchos and set out in the open vehicle to tour the land side of Chobe National Park. Within minutes, we saw a large troop of baboons, several hundred impala, some kudu and a marshland antelope called a puku.

Then, we saw the elephants.

Driving on a sandy dirt road parallel to the river, Diane spotted a small family of elephants ahead on the bank, drinking. He guided the truck onto a rutted path, angling towards the shoreline. He cut the engine and we coasted to a stop some 50 feet away from the herd. As soon as they spotted our vehicle, most of the elephants turned and waded into the water; one, a juvenile male, stayed behind and stared at us.

Elephants in Chobe National Park

Eventually, they all crossed over and focused on other things, but not before another of the big creatures trumpeted at us in warning.

We could have spent hours watching them, but it was getting late – time for us to get started on our return journey.

But, wait! What’s this? Another ranger driving an open vehicle flagged us down and told Diane that a leopard had been spotted nearby. Let’s go!

Diane whipped the truck into the bush, executed a killer three-point turn and gunned it in the opposite direction. Our placid game drive was now a Ferrari Safari.

As we raced down the road, the truck’s tires skidded in the soft dirt. We rounded a corner and started scanning the bush and trees for signs of the big cat. Up a small incline we spotted an unusual set of tire tracks. The other vehicle must have stopped here to watch the leopard.

Diane halted abruptly. “There!” Indeed, there it was. High in a tree, roughly 100 feet from the road, was a male leopard.

Male leopard in tree in Chobe National Park

Surveying the scene from high above, the leopard certainly had been watching the herd of impala grazing between the road and the river. They were gradually making their way inland, ever closer to the leopard’s perch. But, for now, he had his sights set squarely on us.

Male leopard watching us from tree in Chobe National Park

Quite an amazing ending to an incredible day – a day when we set foot in two countries, saw two more, and explored the Chobe River with a man named Diane.

Up next, Pt. 3: That time we crossed into Zimbabwe illegally