Wilderness Over Wildlife…
Privileged as I am with guiding experience in 14 African countries, the dream to visit The Luangwa Valley in Zambia remained unrealised until early 2023. Return guests from Cayman finally afforded me this long awaited opportunity and fortune has taken me back there four times since and in fact, it has become one of my favourite destinations.
Due to various constraints, we always utilised camps in the main high-volume Mfuwe section of South Luangwa and as expected, the camps and services are brilliant…the wildlife-viewing, superb. This combination however makes the area very popular and consequently too busy to my, now evolved, liking. Exclusivity of access, over the decades, has sufficiently grown in importance to squarely put my continued evolutionary* trajectory on a collision-course with my aversion to elitist concessions.
This moral-dissonance forced a rigorous reassessment and eventually a reframing of my perspective…
*I suggest you read here, here and here about this evolution for more context.
With each new enquiry from my many return-guests, I endeavour to emphasise the aspects dear to me and recently some of my very first guests upon launching Clearly Africa, agreed to be guinea pigs for a slew of new camps as well as a new destination, North Luangwa National Park!
Although it yielded amazing benefits in the end, there were moments of trepidation…
Over the decade and a half since their first trip, we’ve walked Klaserie/Timbavati and Makuleke (South Africa), Tuli (Botswana), Hwange and Mana Pools (Zimbabwe) as well as Ruaha (Tanzania).
It was thus very appropriate to, during their 10th African journey, have them inaugurate a new South & North Luangwa Combo in Zambia. North Luangwa is regarded as phenomenal wilderness due to a distinctly limited road network, an emphasis on walking as well as there being only two camps inside the Park with only one of these in the central region. Wildlife here though is still fairly nervous from decades of poaching and does not have the same indifference to human presence as those that have been desensitised/habituated in the busy and popular places.
The relationship between humans and wildlife here is slightly more edgy, and dare I say more natural.
Although I was unfamiliar with the camps, concessions and North Luangwa, they are run by a reputable operator and most importantly, they fit the criteria of camps/concessions aligned with my evolved values. I was confident that this selection will work for me…but whether my guests would agree, was only calculated and definitely not certain.
A delayed international arrival flight meant that my guests missed out on their first night in South Luangwa and though we managed to arrange last-minute accommodation in Lusaka and shift their internal flights to limit the fallout, it wasn’t an ideal start.
Compounding this, wildlife sightings over the next 3 full days of drives felt a tad underwhelming compared to some very productive previous trips…this despite it including some eles, fair general game, an injured leopardess, one big herd of buffalo at sunset and eventually a pride of lion on the last evening, drinking at a spring.
This may sound prolific but it required 24hrs of driving…a lifetime when wanting to be right about your selection of destination.
Setting off on our first of three days of walking-only, things changed immediately…for the better. Within 30min of our walk, we found a single young male lion on the banks of the Luangwa. He cautiously watched us from under a leadwood tree, but got up and faded into the undergrowth as we continued on our way.
A little while later, rounding a large thicket, we heard rustling leaves only 5m from us, and curiously peering into the bush, we suddenly realised it was the same lion! Surprised that he did not growl or show any signs of distress, we just gathered in a cluster and watched in disbelief as he slowly walked out of the rear of the thicket and glancing over his shoulder one last time, disappeared into the grass…incredible.
After a siesta and cuppa (brewed on fire made by friction) and a lone ele bull en-route, we eventually made it to camp as the heat peaked. With ice-cold beer in-hand we walked to the deck overlooking the lagoon where we received our welcome speech…which was summarily interrupted by some lionesses and sub-adults descending the bank to come and drink right next to us…what a welcome!
That afternoon we tracked the pride to where they had killed a massive waterbuck bull, but kept our distance such that although keeping a beady eye on us, they were accepting of our presence. Darkness eventually prompted us to head back to camp lest we get caught.
The following day we walked all the way to the next camp farther north and saw some lovely eland and a host of other general game as well as spoor of lion and leopard. Wilddog sightings in the busy central South Luangwa has always been a given if staying more than 3 or 4 nights…this time in this quieter northern area however, nothing even after 6! The wildlife-yield, although acceptable, fell short of my wishful expectations. I desperately didn’t want to have to sacrifice too many wildlife encounters in an attempt to rid us of masses of other people.
The 25min flight to North Luangwa in the C210 was as scenic as it was bumpy.
As we turned onto final-approach I noticed a long dark string of buffalo, trudging their way through the dusty heatwaves towards the languid Luangwa river…this prompted excitement and hope!
The area around the runway looked like ground-zero of an elephant apocalypse, covered in broken Mopane trees and bare hard-baked soil. A 45min drive to camp traversed some uninspiring scenes with again not much wildlife, barren landscapes and annoying tsetse-flies.
Our first afternoon drive didn’t deliver much other than some zebra, impala, waterbuck and a small group of ele crossing the dry Mwaleshi River at sunset.
The next 2 days of long morning walks and shorter afternoon drive/walks remained underwhelming in terms of encounters, some audio of lion close by and spoor, but no sightings. I felt pressure to somehow make up for the lost night as well as this “paucity” of wildlife. The question was how? Just pointing to the vast undeveloped wilderness around us, the silence, absolute darkness and solitude alone, I convinced myself won’t suffice…
It was difficult to set my excitement about this new adventure free as I was seeing things through the eyes of my guests…or so I convinced myself.
Getting in to drive to our drop-off and walk to the last camp, we were suddenly called back to the riverside as a pack of wilddog were running amok.
Seeing them trot off in the same direction as we had to drive, we leapt back into the vehicle and sped off to eventually catch up to them again 20min later as they were running through the shallows of the Mwaleshi before crossing over.
For this walk I had deliberately only fitted the short lens for scenic shots, leaving the long zoom in my bag. Consequently I was extremely frustrated with my limited zooming capability, a squandered photographic opportunity!
Leaving the vehicle behind, we crossed the shallow river and ambled upstream to meet our guide from Mwaleshi Camp, en route. So many beautiful little things made for a very rewarding stroll and in no time, we met up with Brent and continued on our way.
Again, although it was a very pleasant excursion that afternoon, it didn’t yield any meaningful sightings.
Even though my guests seemed to enjoy themselves, I couldn’t shake the sense that they may not be as intolerant of sharing space with other people as I am and the reduced sightings would be a deal-breaker…
Early morning after coffee around the fire and toast prepared on coals, we set off to follow up on some lions we heard roaring during the night. Apart from impala, puku and a lone ele bull, we didn’t see much else during our 5hr walk and with a hope that the afternoon would deliver better luck, we headed back to camp. The afternoon saw us exploring another area upstream but the only thing we discovered were spoor of rhino and lion…the pressure remained. In hindsight, what I find interesting is that my indoctrinated default was to place my hope in wildlife encounters as a panacea. Completely counter to my personal priorities.
On the morning of our penultimate full day, our walk took us west and past a large group of hippo which necessitated some deviation from our intended route. Stopping to look at a pair of saddle-billed stork, one of the guys pointed out something across the river that drew his eye…LIONS!
Overcome with relief more than excitement, I could barely contain myself at the sight of a few satiated lionesses hiding in the shade of a mahogany.
Finally some respite from the self-induced pressure.
Continuing upstream on our side of the river to a crossing, we noticed in the shade of a sausage-tree blocking our way…ELE.
Commenting on how we are now wedged between a pride of lion to our right and a herd of ele to our left when walking through the shallows, I looked up ahead and noticed a cloud of dust spiring up into the sky. My brain quickly filtered through possible origins of the dust and immediately ignored a vehicle as we are the only people in the park and besides, we haven’t heard one…the next option made my heart jump with anticipation…BUFFALO!
There they were, a massive herd of about 700 all stampeding straight towards where we were crossing the river…so now it’s lions to the right, eles to the left and buff dead-ahead. We expedited our crossing and veered off to the right towards the lion, finding a small patch of 3m tall trees in whose shade we settled for the spectacle. What a sight for sore eyes, a string of buff, rising dust, the blue of the water and sky with the Muchinga Escarpment as a backdrop…I was in heaven.
Not wanting to spook the buff and interrupt their drinking, we remained well hidden and only ambled up to the bank to watch the eles come down, once the buff had departed.
With adrenaline and awe still coursing through our veins we made our way downstream to see if we can get a distant glimpse of those lion before we reach the vehicle. Hearing the vehicle rushing our way and the driver wildly gesticulating for us to get in, we jumped on and found the lions laying down in the tall grass not 100m from there…we certainly would not have found them on foot. Then something incredible happened.
Whilst sitting in silence with our attention squarely on the lion, we heard scraping bark from a tree directly ahead of us and glancing up, noticed the flash of a leopard leaping from the branches and bolting off…lions suddenly in hot pursuit! Dazzled by this insane sequence of events, we sped off in an attempt to relocate the leopard, which we eventually did as he perched in a large sausage tree hiding from the lion.
Now that the perceived famine had been broken, for the first time in almost 10 days, I felt vindicated in my choice of destination…however salvaged by animal sightings and not remote wilderness…
The final full-day kicked off with a shy single male lion while driving along the river. Affording him ample space so as not to frighten him, we sat quietly waiting for him to relax and move into the open. This however did not happen as a pack of wilddog suddenly emerged from the forest behind us, pushing beyond the lions’ tolerance threshold. They rallied and barked at him and with this pressure and our presence, he slinked away to the side, leaving us to watch the dogs cross the shallows to the opposite bank. After a little bit of a drink, run and play, they trotted off towards the riparian forest. Watching with binoculars as they approached the forest edge, we saw a bushbuck ewe break cover and dash into the undergrowth and the dogs giving chase. They all disappeared beyond view but 30 seconds later we heard the unmistakable bleat of a bushbuck…the dogs had breakfast.
In the afternoon we walked a new stretch of the Mwaleshi and discovered another two lionesses from a different pride, they however bolted off as soon as they saw us.
During a deep conversation around the fire that eve, it was highlighted that everyone felt more connected to everything around them than on previous trips. Naturally we started exploring possible explanations for this. Was it the sudden flood of incredible wildlife encounters or something else?
Having consciously selected these camps and Parks based on very specific criteria (low human numbers/small rustic camps/remote wilderness), I already knew my answer.
What I hoped for was that by subtly explaining the process by which I reached mine, my guests would arrive at the same conclusion…wilderness over wildlife.
What finally emerged was that although the phenomenal wildlife encounters certainly added sparkle, it was the absence of other people in our goings-on in and outside of camp which provided a foundation of solitude and profound intimacy with nature which otherwise would be undermined by scores of other people and vehicles. The phenomenal guiding ethic we encountered also contributed massively.
I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders at this revelation.
On the final morning we did a shorter walk during which we saw a diminutive but stunning malachite kingfisher shortly before flushing a leopard from a large sausage-tree and then bumping into an ele bull followed by some coffee on the riverbank. I remember thinking wow…what a way to conclude our journey…little did I know what still awaited us.
Arriving back at the vehicle I put my camera on the seat as we opened a final beer to celebrate and cool down. At this point, watching the herd of puku across the river, someone exclaimed “A hyaena is coming”!
With that we shifted our gaze upstream and saw a loping spotted hyaena heading straight for the puku. I immediately thought there is no hope in hell of success as it’s boiling hot already and these adult puku will easily avoid being taken, so I didn’t reach for my camera until it was too late!
Brent however was prepared for what came next and generously provided the imagery…thanks Brent!
Rushing intently towards a stand of tall grass on the riverbank, the hyaena flushed two puku calves which scattered in different directions. The smallest of the two calves were unfortunately square in the hyaena’s crosshairs. Zigzagging hither and dither, around this way and that, the calf attempted to shake the pursuing predator…but to no avail. Slowly gaining on the calf the hyaena seemed increasingly determined.
Image courtesy of Brent Harris.
The calf strategically leapt clean from the bank in an arc into the shallows 2m below and dashed to our side of the river…still the hyaena was closing in.
Image courtesy of Brent Harris.
Circling back into the shallows, the calf underestimated the water’s depth and with its shorter legs was slowed enough for the hyaena to finally catch up and in a single bite to the head…it was over.
Image courtesy of Brent Harris.
It took some time before any of us uttered a word, we were still in shock from this gruesome display of the circle of life. It is what it is…
Back to the moral-dissonance and re-evaluation of perspective.
I have come to recognise the value of small camps with exclusive access to large tracts of wilderness and now support them wholeheartedly. Not only is this formula a recipe for reduced environmental and wildlife impact, it also affords visceral immersion sans any undermining intrusions.
Ultimately our choices, more than our words, intimately reflects who we truly are. I may have taken the step to render myself vulnerable to rejection through these choices, but authenticity is paramount to me.
Sam Harris recently said of his podcast: "I have built an audience that values HOW I arrive at conclusions rather than the conclusions themselves”.
Having explained (in this and the previous writings) HOW I have arrived at my conclusion, my wish is to build an audience which value the same philosophy…
Yours in wilderness over wildlife,