Boro River, Botswana’s Okovango Delta.

“Heading out as the first boat of the season, a failed engine now has us hugging the banks of a lagoon. Just moments before, we were skimming over the river at high speed, occasionally unnerving its inhabitants. With the midday sun turning up its already sweltering heat, I settle down under the canopy, keeping an eye out for any action. After all, this is the heart of the Okovango, with some of the richest game viewing anywhere in Africa.

The scent of wild sage burning fills the air. Smoldering bushfires in the distance leave a veil of ashy white clouds like in a scene from Apocalypse Now. Only this is not hell, it is a largely unspoiled paradise. For the scenic flight operators high up above, we must be a mere spec in this vast floating field of papyrus, bending and shimmering like a perpetuum mobile in every color of green imaginable.

Hours from the nearest civilization and without the security of a functioning vessel, one’s perspective changes drastically. The body instinctively heightens the senses. Luckily the whole experience is largely one of blissful tranquility - until we see a hippopotamus up close. Its head emerging from the dark waters below like the tin brown shoe of a giant ... ”