I SAW THE BIG FIVE, EXPERIENCED ICONIC VICTORIA FALLS, AND CAMPED OUT UNDER THE STARS WITH LIKE-MINDED TRAVELERS ON THIS ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME SAFARI

From Botswana to Zambia, I connected with solo travelers from around the world on a safari I'll never forget.

On a Tuesday night in Brooklyn, I found myself in the back of a laundromat speakeasy, where, on a whim, I dropped a coin into one of those quirky mechanical fortune teller machines:

“You have been holding on to something in your life that no longer serves you at this time. You hold on because you are afraid or don’t know what’s next for you. Heed my advice, dear one: As soon as you let go, the path reveals itself. It is time to embrace the next stage that life has planned for you. Believe me, it is much better than what’s behind you.”

I was true: I had recently made significant life changes, including a cross-country move to New York City. As part of the move, I had even made myself a “new life bucket list," a list of things I wanted to do before I felt like my transition period was over — the last item on this self-imposed to-do list: an African safari.

While the mystery behind the meaning of my fortune lingered in my mind, my thoughts eventually turned to other things, as I had a safari to prepare for.

A long-time solo female traveler, I had planned to take this iconic trip on my own, joining a group of 18–35-year-old travelers with Contiki tours.

While group tours have become an increasingly popular way for young people to travel, I had never taken one myself and figured this would be the perfect opportunity — an African safari didn't seem like an experience I could easily navigate alone. After thorough research, I chose a nine-day tour of Victoria Falls & Botswana that would take me through both countries. I quickly locked in the tour for just under $3,000 (a steal for a trip of this magnitude) and was on my way.

I arrived in Livingstone, Zambia, a day before the rest of my tour group, which allowed me to adjust to the jet lag and take in my surroundings. After checking in to the Victoria Falls Waterfront Hotel, right on the Zambezi River, I spent the afternoon lazing by the pool and watching families of wild baboons run circles around the property.

Sitting there with nothing to do but simply be, I thought, when was the last time I had really done that? Just be. Just exist. It had been a long time. I realized that in New York, I’d been constantly running toward the next thing without ever stopping to appreciate where I am in the present. I had no idea how exhausted I was until that moment. I finally paused and took a minute to take a breath and relax. It was peaceful.

The following morning, I headed toward the Zimbabwe border to meet with my group of 15 other travelers. Contiki organizes its trips in modules, with groups of travelers joining and leaving at various points throughout, so as it turned out, I was the only traveler joining a pre-existing group that had already taken the 15-day Cape to Delta Safari trip — one of the company's highest-rated trips.

My peers' journey began in Cape Town and headed toward Johannesburg before finally meeting me in Zambia. While it was a bit intimidating being the only person to join a trip of people who had already spent the past week getting to know each other, I was welcomed with open arms by what was clearly an already close-knit but friendly and outgoing group.

Expecting my group mates to be on the younger end of the 18–35 spectrum, I was pleasantly surprised to find a diverse mix of ages ranging from 20 to 35. At 29, I felt like I fit right in. Hailing from the U.S., Australia, New Zealand, South America, and Europe, my tripmates had taken other Contiki tours and were already fans of the company. What surprised me the most was that everyone, save for one married couple, came on the trip alone. As a result, everyone went into the experience with the mindset of wanting to make new friends and connections and have a genuine adventure with other like-minded people, which I found rare and refreshing.

We hit the ground running and headed straight to the iconic Victoria Falls, one of the largest waterfalls in the world. We heard it before we saw it, but as we approached, the roaring falls sprawled out before us, monumentally tall and inconceivably powerful. The mist spraying off the falls drenched us from head to toe as we hiked barefoot along the winding observation path, unable to hear each other’s squeals of excitement and awe over the thundering falls.

As if on cue, a perfect rainbow appeared overhead, arching magnificently over the spectacular cascades. I looked around me and saw my own wonderment mirrored on the faces of my new travel companions. I was filled with an overwhelming sense of delight — it’s not often you get to experience one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World alongside other adventurers who are as excited about it as you are.

The next day, we woke before dawn, and I took my first-ever walking safari right on our hotel's grounds, which was set within a nature reserve.

Right off the bat, we saw rhinos and an African buffalo, two of the Big Five. Later in the day, our group crossed the border into Botswana and arrived in Chobe, where our afternoon game drive resulted in sightings of herds of elephants (calves in tow), zebras, giraffes, warthogs, wildebeests, impala, baboons, and more. We even saw a lion basking in the sun, who roared to his brother lying nearby.

In the fading light of the afternoon, our open-air safari van approached a natural watering hole, where we watched as every species in the animal kingdom gathered to drink. With the borders of Namibia just across the reservoir, the sun-drenched landscape looked like something straight out of “The Lion King.” It was so surreal and unbelievable that it was hard to comprehend that we were there, seeing it with our own eyes.

The following morning, we said goodbye to about half of our group mates as we headed toward the Okavango Delta. While it was sad to see them go, especially as we had all quickly grown quite close over the few intense days we had spent together, it was nice to go to the Delta with a smaller, more intimate group.

We began the long journey from Chobe to the small village of Gweta, the gateway to the iconic Delta. As we drove, Jesse, our guide, passed the time by giving us context into the cultural and geographical history of the region and the vast Makgadikgadi Salt Pans we were headed to. “Where there is water, there is life,” he explained — the Okavango Delta is one of the richest locations for wildlife in both Botswana and the entire continent of Africa.

As the drive wore on, the landscape became increasingly remote, and the oppressive heat of African summer began to penetrate the walls of our minivan, fighting against the weak air conditioning that struggled to keep us cool.

Jesse explained that where we were going in the Delta was extremely and unforgivingly isolated and that should we need rescuing for any reason, the nearest town would be four hours away. While he meant it as a routine warning, it gave me an ominous feeling. We had been on a single dirt road for hours, having only passed a one-room building with a handmade sign on the door that read “hospital” and a few rural villages. The heat was intense, and I started to get a bit anxious. We were really out here, and there was nothing around for miles.

I was starting to have second thoughts about continuing to the Delta, but there was no turning back. I cast aside my doubts, and we carried on, arriving at the entry of the Makgadikgadi Pan and switching to an open-air safari vehicle. The heat was extreme, but the company was good. We spent the afternoon driving through the vast, barren landscape, searching for meerkats.

As the day descended into the evening and the heat finally started to burn off, we stopped to rest at what must have been the only tall tree for miles. Easily a thousand years old and enormous in stature, the gigantic tree provided a shady reprieve as we stretched our legs and took in the emptiness sprawled out before us. Exhausted from the sun and not in the mood to chat, none of us said a word as we listened to the quiet. No sound could be heard but the breeze and the song of the birds on the wind.

Standing in awe of the enormous tree, I thought it might be the most peaceful place on earth. I closed my eyes and listened to the silence; it was pure tranquility and magic. I was so rooted in the present moment that, when I think back on it now, I can still conjure that feeling, that presentness, that peace.

When it was time to go, we climbed back into the van and went on our way.

Driving through the bush at golden hour, the early evening light turned the African grasses gold. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, we arrived at a secluded watering hole in the heart of the grasslands, where staff had set up a bar filled with drinks and snacks and a campfire with folding chairs to sit in and watch the sunset. Sipping our “sundowners” by the fire and taking in the landscape, I remembered something I had read before my trip: “God visits everywhere, but He lives in Africa," Will Smith once said. At that moment, I thought it just might be true.

We stayed there around the fire, talking until it got dark and a billion stars appeared in the cloudless sky. It was exactly what I hoped Africa would be like, and the reality of where I was finally sunk in – the trip I had waited so long to take was finally happening, and it was all just right.

The following day, we headed into the Okavango Delta. I wedged between our guide Jesse and my trip mate Jack in the back seat of the safari vehicle, with all our belongings piled on top of us and into every available crevice. After a while, we pulled into a clearing alongside a picturesque watering hole where a family of hippos dipped in and out of the water.

Suddenly, it began to pour. The rain danced on the once-still surface of the pond, lily pads floated side to side in clusters with the breeze, and the hippos carried on as before, unbothered by the turn of weather. I giggled like a child, grateful for the cool breeze and magic of a moment uncapturable by anything other than memory.

While we were glad for the respite from the heat, the rain made driving in our open-air safari van a challenge on the muddy roads, even for our experienced safari guide, Neil, the owner of Kangara Adventure Safaris. We pulled over off-road to wait it out. “TIA,” Neil bellowed, “This is Africa!”

Eventually, the rain passed, and we arrived at the campsite in the middle of the bush. While it wasn’t quite glamping, a full staff had arrived early to set up our tents, a dining area, a fire pit, and bathroom facilities. As remote as we were, I was impressed by the luxury they could deliver.

Dinner was seswaa, a traditional Botswana meat stew. Afterward, we gathered around the campfire and roasted marshmallows under an impossibly starry sky while the resounding symphony of nature played and lightning bugs sparkled in the darkness.

Despite my anxiety regarding the remoteness of our destination, I finally understood why coming out there and being disconnected from the rest of the world was truly worth it. I didn’t realize how restless I had felt in New York until I stumbled onto the serenity that can only be found somewhere so remote and off-the-grid as the Okavango Delta.

On our last morning, as the sun rose, we climbed into the safari van and headed out on an early-morning game drive. The landscape was packed with elephants, zebras, giraffes, impalas, hippos, exotic birds, and even rare African dogs. Around midday, we returned to the camp for lunch and to wait out the worst of the day’s heat. We sprawled out in the covered daybed area, reading books and relaxing while Carlos, the wittiest of our trip mates, entertained us with anecdotes that had us laughing all afternoon.

Soon, as the golden hour arrived, it was time to head out on the final game drive. We drove through the luminescent landscape for an hour or two before stopping for sundowners while watching a final breathtaking sunset over the African bush. It was the perfect ending to yet another dreamlike day and a superb way to close the trip of a lifetime.

Sitting in the airport contemplating my adventure as I waited for my flight back home, I was suddenly struck by the memory of my fortune from that faraway speakeasy in Brooklyn. Though, in truth, it had only been three or so weeks since that fateful night, it now felt eons away, as if I had lived an entire lifetime since then.

I replayed the fortune in my mind:

“You have been holding on to something in your life that no longer serves you at this time. You hold on because you are afraid or don’t know what’s next for you. Heed my advice, dear one: As soon as you let go, the path reveals itself. It is time to embrace the next stage that life has planned for you. Believe me, it is much better than what’s behind you.”

I realized that I had felt so much more at peace during the last nine days than in the past eight months living in New York City, where I constantly felt like I was continually running and never getting where I was trying to go. During this trip, I finally arrived.

It was time for me to let go of the notion that life can only be one thing: the idea that I have to follow the same path as everyone else and chase after the conventional ideas of what it means to be successful or fulfilled, especially when those conventional things weren’t filling me up. Travel was the remedy to healing something I didn’t realize was broken. It made me recognize that it was time to forge my own path forward — perhaps by seeking a stronger sense of community and striving to create more meaningful relationships with people through travel.

I thought back to the start of my trip and what I had planned for this safari to mean symbolically for my life: the end to a period of transition, the final item on my “new life bucket list.” I had no idea it would just be the start of the next period. One of the most extraordinary experiences of my life, I’ll always look back on my trip to Africa and be grateful for what it taught me and the changes I’ve vowed to make.

At the end of the trip, one of our safari drivers, Silvester, relayed this African proverb to me, and, looking back, I couldn’t express it better myself: “Once you set foot in Africa, you will never dust it off your feet.”

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2024-09-02T02:05:59Z dg43tfdfdgfd