June 04, 2025

The Republic of Botswana is ranked No. 01 for wildlife safaris in Africa.

1. Exceptional Wildlife Viewing

• High wildlife density: Botswana is home to some of the largest populations of elephants in Africa, particularly in the Chobe National Park.

• Big Five and more: It offers excellent chances to see lions, leopards, rhinos, buffalo, and elephants, as well as wild dogs, cheetahs, hyenas, hippos, and over 500 bird species.
  
  

2. Pristine and Untouched Wilderness

• Low-impact tourism model: Botswana emphasizes quality over quantity. The government has chosen a "high-cost, low-volume" tourism strategy to preserve its ecosystems.

• Remote and exclusive: Many lodges and camps are accessible only by small plane, offering a private and immersive wilderness experience.
  
  

3. Unique Ecosystems

• Okavango Delta: A UNESCO World Heritage Site, this inland delta is one of the world’s most unique ecosystems, teeming with life. Mokoro (dugout canoe) safaris through its channels are a signature experience.

• Kalahari Desert: Home to desert-adapted wildlife and the San people, it offers a stark and fascinating contrast to the lush Delta.

• Makgadikgadi Pans: One of the largest salt flats on Earth, where you can see seasonal zebra migrations and surreal, moon-like landscapes.
  
  

4. Political Stability and Safety

• Peaceful democracy: Botswana is one of Africa’s most stable countries politically and economically.

• Safe travel environment: Crime and unrest are relatively low, making it attractive for international visitors.
  
  

5. Sustainable and Ethical Tourism

• Community involvement: Many lodges are part-owned by local communities, ensuring that tourism directly benefits residents.

• Conservation leadership: Botswana has strong anti-poaching policies and supports large protected areas, like the massive Central Kalahari Game Reserve and Moremi Game Reserve.
  
  

6. Exclusive and Intimate Experiences

• Small camps: Accommodations are typically small and eco-friendly, offering personalized service and minimal environmental impact.

• Private concessions: Many safaris take place on private land where off-road driving and night safaris are allowed, giving you more flexibility and fewer crowds.
  
  

Summary

Botswana is considered the top safari destination because it offers unmatched wildlife encounters in pristine habitats, under a model of sustainable, low-impact tourism. It’s ideal for travelers seeking authenticity, exclusivity, and deep connection with nature.

June 01, 2025

Yellowstone, Remembered - How it became the change that led me to the present. 

(For Laura and her grandfather Alan Moorehead)

In 1991, the West was still the West. Steam rose from the skin of the earth as if the ground itself remembered the fire beneath. The hot springs hissed in secret places, tucked behind pines and boulders, their waters clouded with minerals and myth. Randy had a guidebook.

Of course he did. He always had something half-reliable in his glove compartment. We soaked in those wild springs, raw with heat and silence. The sort of places that ask nothing from you but presence. They say all the beautiful things are found near danger—volcanoes, wolves, women like Laura. I didn’t understand that then, not like I do now. We were driving east when we saw him: a bull bison, alone in the road, haloed by the dusk. Massive and unmoved. Time seemed to slow around him. He wasn’t wild so much as eternal. Randy stepped out of the car. He always stepped out. He thought the world was his until the world reminded him otherwise.

The bull mock charged. No hesitation. Just one beat of hooves, and the air split open. Randy scrambled back inside. And I, still watching the beast, said what needed saying. Not out of fear. Out of respect.

"Don’t harass the fucking buffalo."

Somewhere, Alan might’ve nodded. Somewhere, Laura smiles. And the west, as ever, remains unbothered.

The Mazda-rati rolled forward, slow as thought, tires whispering over gravel. No music played. The silence after the bison encounter hung between us like a monument. I didn’t speak, and Randy, for once, understood that silence was the safer path. Night fell in degrees. The sky dimmed to the color of coal ash, and Yellowstone exhaled around us—geysers breathing, elk shadowing the meadows, the land settling back into its unspoken order. You could feel the history here, pressing up through the crust. Not the kind found in textbooks, but the kind that watches you, measures you, and finds you either worthy or in the way.

We camped beneath a stand of twisted lodgepole pine. Randy fiddled with his stove, some battered thing that smelled like last summer’s chili. I walked a little ways off. No flashlight. Just the cold and the stars. And I thought about the bison—not as a warning, but as a mirror. I’d spent a good part of my young life thinking I needed to step outside of things, challenge them like Randy did. But sometimes, the point is to stay in the car. To witness without disruption.

Laura didn’t come into my life until much later. But even then, in that canyon of starlight and sulfur, I could sense the gravity of someone who’d one day tether me to the better version of myself. Somewhere far off, a coyote called. Not lonely. Just alive.

I didn’t know it then, but that bull bison—broad as a church door and twice as still—marked a turning. Not just in the road or in Randy’s poorly judged bravado, but in the quiet compass inside me. A hinge moment. The kind that doesn’t knock loud, but lodges in your gut and starts rearranging your direction. Something about that charge—that ancient animal declaring its space with bone and muscle and godlike gravity—shook loose a truth I hadn’t yet spoken.

I didn’t want the 9 to 5. Not the wedding registry, the cul-de-sac, the careful future paced out like a slow funeral. I didn’t want to be sitting in a recliner at sixty, wondering when the hell I’d missed the exit ramp to my real life. No. Not for me. Not then.

I was a child of three television channels and Saturday evenings with Jacques Cousteau’s oceanic blue-gray voice narrating the undersea ballet. Or Marlin Perkins, calmly explaining while Jim threw himself into the jaws of the unknown. As a kid, it felt like you had to be born in the ocean or the jungle to be part of that world. But when the Peace Corps came calling, I answered. And not with half a heart. I said yes like someone flinging open a door.

In 1990, they sent me to Botswana. Etsha 6, to be precise—where the Okavango Delta’s fingers spread out and kiss the Kalahari. The school was brand new: Etsha CJSS—Community Junior Secondary School—little more than a cluster of block buildings surrounded by sand tracks and wild papyrus. I’d traded the steaming pools of Yellowstone for floodplains and firebreaks, for donkeys braying at dawn, and children who walked miles in dust-choked sandals just to learn.

And I loved it instantly.

The kids were sharp and alive in ways that books back home couldn’t capture. They asked questions with their eyes. They taught me patience, rhythm, respect—the kind you earn, not the kind you demand. I taught Design and Technology in a workshop full of promise—brand-new tools still gleaming in their cabinets, minus the ones that had already been stolen before I even arrived. I was the first teacher to set foot in that space. The sawdust was still fresh from the builder’s bench. We built from blueprints and scrap, from imported curriculum and local ingenuity.

I also coached track and field, which mostly meant running on sand, chasing raw potential, and learning that determination doesn’t need stadiums or shoes to thrive.

When the rains came, they came like a memory long denied. The delta would swell, creeping into the mopane groves, bringing with it birds from the ends of the earth. And at night, beneath the Southern Cross, I’d lie awake listening to frogs sing the old songs while the power flickered and failed, and I’d think: I am here. I am not missing anything.

Some divine guardian had led me. Or maybe it was just that buffalo, reminding me that stillness has a spine, that the wild gives us permission. Either way, it was the beginning of the life I was meant to live.

And then, in 2024—thirty-four years and countless footsteps later—I found myself back in Botswana. I had just finished a self-drive safari through Chobe, dusty and elated, Kasane at my back and elephants still echoing in the mirrors. Somewhere between unpacking the cooler box and rinsing off the Kalahari sand, I turned on the Olympics. And there they were—two Botswanan medalists, their names lighting up the screen like a fire rekindled: Letsile Tebogo, and Bayapo Ndori. And then—Pesela.

I sat up straight. Pesela?

I’d had a student with that surname. Bright-eyed, wiry, fast even when standing still. I checked the hometown—Etsha. Sure enough. The same village. The same school. The same dust track where we used to practice baton exchanges using a cracked PVC pipe in place of a baton.

Silver medalist. There it was. A name from the bush school now etched into the annals of Olympic history. A proud nation of 2.2 million.

Back in 1991, I had smuggled a set of Track and Field instructional VHS tapes from Kenya and Tanzania into Botswana, slipping them through the good graces of the U.S. Embassy in Gaborone. These were instructional videos from the University of Oregon, but to us they were sacred scrolls. We watched them on a humming VCR hooked up to a wheezing generator, the kids studying stride angles and starting block techniques like scripture.

And with that—just vision and hunger—we took our 4x100m relay team to Nationals.

But it wasn’t just me. Not even close. The heart of that program belonged to Shep Majoko, the school’s athletic director, whose discipline and passion set the standard. He moved with the dignity of a man who knew sport could be salvation. And Headmaster Pete Midgley—the Brit with the booming voice and kind eyes—backed us at every turn. He believed Etsha CJSS could be more than a remote bush school. He believed we could run.

And run we did.

Now, decades later, sitting in a lodge near the banks of the Chobe River, watching a Pesela cross the finish line for silver, I felt something unnameable. Not pride, exactly. Something older. A recognition. The continuation of something once sparked by a bison, shaped by a continent, and carried forward by kids who never stopped running.

I sat there in silence, hands folded, heart full. All the dust, the long hours in the sun, the generator hum, the smuggled VHS tapes, the relay drills before first light—it all mattered. It still echoed in that name, in that medal, in that run.

Some dreams take decades to answer. And some are still answering.

I stood up, alone in that lodge, and said it—not shouted this time, but with the reverence it deserves. The greeting. The invocation. The blessing. A word that means blood, water, life itself. The gift that binds us.

“PULA,” I whispered.

Because I was—and still am—HiMarks. That was the name they gave me. And Pula was not just our cheer. It was our promise. It was everything we poured into those dusty lanes and chalk-marked fields. It was the giver of life. The word that stitched it all together.

PULA. From Etsha. From the Delta. From the heart.

Epilogue: The Road Still Calls

Time has worn its grooves into me, as it should. But even now, I live by the same compass that pointed me toward that bison all those years ago—the one that taught me not to flinch, but to listen.

The world is louder now, faster, crowded with digital voices and shallow distractions. But the lessons remain. The silence of a hot spring in Yellowstone. The rhythm of kids running barefoot in Etsha dust. The sound of frogs in flood season. The baton passed clean, hand to hand, future to future.

I didn’t stay on the track. I became a guide of a different sort—leading people through wild places, opening doors into wonder. I still chase storms and sunsets, still teach where I can, still stand in awe when the land speaks. And I carry with me a name—HiMarks—not a title, but a bond. A marker in time and place. A legacy etched into the memory of a school from the bush.

When I return to Botswana, it’s not just for the wildlife or the wide skies—it’s for the echoes. The students. The track. The feeling that something once good is still unfolding, just beyond the horizon.

And when I meet someone new, sometimes I greet them not in English, but with a word that holds it all:

PULA.

It means rain.
It means life.
It means blood.
It means I remember you.

And the road still calls.

-the Safari Travelist

Dewan Adventure Travel / Botswana Trek LLC

Terms & Conditions

1. Company Registration

Dewan Adventure Travel operates as Botswana Trek LLC, registered in the State of Hawaii, USA.

2. Booking & Payment Conditions to Botswana Trek LLC (Relay Bank- 

• A non-refundable deposit of 30% is required to secure your booking.
  
  

• Bookings are only considered confirmed upon receipt of the deposit in our designated account.
  
  

• Payment Methods: Wire transfer (bank details provided on invoice) or credit card.
  
  

• Final balance is due 120 days (4 months) preceding departure unless stated otherwise.
  
  

• Any extension of the trip after departure must be paid upon confirmation.
  
  

• Prices are quoted in USD and include VAT and applicable local taxes unless otherwise stated.
  
  

3. Cancellation & Refund Policy

• Cancellation more than 5 months preceding departure: Refundable balance, less the non-refundable deposit.
  
  

• Cancellation within 5 months of departure: No refund is available.
  
  

• No refunds are given for unused services, late arrivals, or early departures.
  
  

• We strongly advise comprehensive travel insurance, which should cover:
  
  

  • Trip cancellation
    
    

  • Emergency evacuation
    
    

  • Medical expenses
    
    

  • Repatriation
    
    

  • Lost or damaged luggage
    
    

• Force Majeure: No refund or liability for cancellations due to natural disasters, pandemics, wars, or any other acts beyond our control.
  
  

4. Medical Requirements & Insurance

• Participation in our tours assumes general good health and moderate mobility.
  
  

• Guests with specific medical needs or dietary restrictions must notify us at least 60 days before travel.
  
  

• Malaria prophylactics and vaccinations are the guest’s responsibility.
  
  

• Guests must carry a valid vaccination certificate as required by the destination.
  
  

• Dewan Adventure Travel takes no responsibility for medical claims, costs, or service denials due to lack of insurance.
  
  

5. Assumption of Risk

• Adventure travel entails risks including wildlife encounters, rugged terrain, and remote conditions.
  
  

• All participation is voluntary and at the guest’s own risk.
  
  

• Safety guidelines provided by guides and camp staff must be followed at all times.
  
  

6. Air Travel & Delays

• We are not responsible for airline delays, cancellations, overbooking, or lost/damaged baggage.
  
  

• Additional nights caused by flight rescheduling will be at the guest's expense.
  
  

• Any claims related to airline service must be made directly with the airline.
  
  

7. Tour Itinerary & Amendments

• Itineraries may be adjusted due to weather, logistics, local regulations, or other unforeseen factors.
  
  

• We will make every effort to deliver services as described but reserve the right to substitute accommodations or guides if necessary.
  
  

8. Guide Substitution

• In the unlikely event of illness or emergency, we reserve the right to provide a qualified replacement guide without notice.
  
  

9. Luggage Policy

• Maximum luggage per person: 20kg (44 lbs) including carry-on.
  
  

• Soft-sided bags only; no wheels, frames, or hard cases.
  
  

• Luggage exceeding limits may require guests to purchase an additional seat or incur transport charges.
  
  

10. Wildlife & Environmental Responsibility

• Camps are unfenced, and wildlife roams freely. Animal encounters are rare but possible.
  
  

• Always follow camp safety protocols and avoid walking alone at night.
  
  

• Dewan Adventure Travel supports low-impact, eco-conscious travel principles.
  
  

11. Passport & Visa Requirements

• Guests must ensure they have valid passports and visas for the countries visited.
  
  

• We are not liable for costs or losses due to incomplete or incorrect documentation.
  
  

12. Guest Representation & Consent

• The lead traveler confirms they have the authority to accept these Terms & Conditions for all persons in the booking.
  
  

• Any deposit or partial payment confirms agreement with these Terms & Conditions, whether or not a signed form is returned.
  
  

13. Liability & Limitations

• Dewan Adventure Travel / Botswana Trek LLC, its agents, employees, and contractors, act only as agents for suppliers and are not liable for personal injury, illness, death, loss, delay, or damage except where caused by our negligence or willful misconduct.
  
  

• We are not responsible for losses caused by:
  
  

  • Acts of God
    
    

  • Government actions or travel advisories
    
    

  • Civil unrest or terrorism
    
    

  • Strikes or mechanical failures
    
    

  • Wildlife interactions or remote logistics
    
    

  • Service provider failures outside our control
    
    

14. Acceptance of Terms

• By paying your deposit, you confirm you have read, understood, and accepted these Terms & Conditions.
  
  

Dewan Adventure Travel / Botswana Trek LLC reserves the right to decline participation or modify these terms as required by law or business circumstances.

We do not discriminate based on race, religion, gender, nationality, or orientation.