That Delta groove

It's a long drive with some donkeys to dodge - to the town of Shakawe in the far north of Botswana. To tourists, this area, called the Okavango Panhandle, offers an affordable, accessible introduction to the watery world of the Delta. Come along and meet some of the people who have made Shakawe their home.

- TOAST COETZER

Sunlight oozes onto the blunt spikes of the knob-thorn trunk above me. Nearby, red-billed wood-hoopoes wriggle their long bills into the nooks and crannies of a jackal-berry tree in search of snacks. A crested barbet looks on silently, its ruffled feathers giving it the appearance of having had a rough night out. On the ground in the leaf litter, a handful of arrow-marked babblers are scratching around.

With coffee in hand, I walk a few steps away from my tent so that I can feel the sun against my face. It’s early winter and one of the most pleasant times of the year to be in Botswana. The nights are cool enough to justify actually sleeping inside your sleeping bag, but the days are warm – shorts and T-shirt weather.

I’ve visited the Okavango Panhandle many times before and I’ve always loved its understated, laid-back pace. It is a very long way to travel from South Africa, but the Panhandle clicks easily into a wider itinerary that can include Maun, Chobe and the Zambezi Region in neighbouring Namibia.

This time, I’ve spent almost a week here, meeting everyone from strawberry farmers to a Bible translator. Let me introduce you…

From D’Kar, with love 

On a good map you might spot a place called D’Kar – somewhere in the Kalahari between Ghanzi and Sehithwa. Leaving behind a beautiful farm in the Bronkhorstspruit district, D’Kar is where Dirk and Pollie Jerling ended up in 1967.

I’m chatting to their daughter, Willemien le Roux, at Askiesbos, a small lodge and camp south of Shakawe.

“My father saw an advertisement in our church newspaper for the position of a farm manager at a missionary farm in Botswana,” Willemien says.