The change of scenery was sudden and dramatic. For about 20 minutes, there had been little sign of human habitation on the land below.
That would have been Zimbabwe's Hwange National Park we were flying over on our way from Johannesburg, for just before that we had seen the vast white expanse of Botswana's Makgadigadi Pans.
Then the pilot banked the plane, and from below a billowing mist cloud emerged the Victoria Falls. The Zambezi was in full flood after the good rains in its catchment area in Angola and the DRC. Our British Airways pilot remarked that he had never seen the falls so beautiful.
I thought to myself what a remarkable portal to a massive chunk of diverse African landscape that is on track to be turned into one of the greatest ecotourism destinations in the world.
The falls are to become a gateway to the proposed 287 132km2 Kaza (Kavango-Zambezi) Transfrontier Conservation Area, which is intended to take in much of western Zambia, Botswana's Okavango Delta, Namibia's Caprivi and a big portion of south-eastern Angola.
Parts of the area already are a hive of tourist activity, but it will take a while for it to spread to Angola due to the legacy - mainly in the form of landmines - of that poor country's protracted wars.
Our international media group's excursion, as guests of Wilderness Safaris, was to take in the Zambian side of the falls and then on to Botswana's Okavango and adjoining Linyanti and Sevuti regions.
The drive from Livingstone Airport took us through the Mosi oa Tunya (smoke that thunders) Park to River Club where, relaxing on the balcony of one of its 10 chalets, you can watch the Zambezi flow lazily by on its way to thundering over the Victoria Falls about 20km downstream.
Peter Jones, the establishment's owner, which boasts a beautifully-renovated old farmhouse as its main building, insists on calling it an "Edwardian retreat".
It is not colonial, he says, because for some that may have unpleasant connotations. It is not a lodge, because there are no wild animals kept within the section of forest that is confined by its electrified perimeter fence. Neither is it Victorian "because one does not want to give guests the wrong impression".
But there is no mistaking the style. Guests are served cucumber sandwiches at high tea and, afterwards, can enjoy a gin and tonic and a game of croquet on a lawn shaded by enormous trees. Though a native of Zambia, Jones is a product of Sandhurst, who had fought wars and risen to the rank of captain.
He delights in story-telling, much of it about the "white mischief" of the region, which can be very entertaining.
At dinner, he "reprimanded" a guest for failing to pass the port to the left. Afterwards, a battered bugle got passed round the table for guests to try, mostly unsuccessfully, to manufacture a note, finally permitting him to say "this is how it's done, old chap" and to blow some military tune.
Around us on the walls hung pictures of royal visitors, red-coated horsemen and hunting dogs, and a framed article about the 1910 world rowing championship held on that section of the Zambezi, which was won by New Zealander R Arnst.
I set the alarm for 5.30am as the plan was to get to the falls at first light. But an hour earlier, I awoke gasping for breath from a blood-curdling shriek in my ear, which turned out to have come from a bush baby on a branch right next to the window.
After admiring the falls from close by, a 60km drive took us to Kazungula, the meeting point of Zambia, Botswana, Namibia and Angola, where queues of trucks waited on both sides of the Zambezi to be ferried across.
We crossed in a small boat, and following a tarred road that led through the nearby town of Kasane to the airport. And we had our first glimpse of a lifestyle that must surely have something to do with Botswana's general tolerance of nature, to the point of having set apart something like 40% of its land as protected areas, which are not fenced off but are left open for game to move about as it wishes.
In places along the busy road, not far from the main shopping area, lay mounds of elephant dung.
At one point, people made way for a couple of warthog scuffling on the pavement - no fuss. And on the outskirts of town, impala and buffalo grazed among the trees.
Kasane abounds with lodges and safari vehicles, which shows what ecotourism can do for places like these.
The first part of the 40-minute flight to our Linyanti bush camp took us along the Chobe River in the opposite direction of its flow towards its meeting with the Zambezi at Kazungula.
It allowed us - on the left - to see the enormous elephant herds of Botswana's Chobe Park moving among the trees and shrub.
On the right, in Namibia's Caprivi, a vast expanse of flood plains shimmered with water from the same good rains that had swelled the Zambezi.
The Linyanti River, which takes over from the Chobe as the border with the Caprivi, had less water, even though it, too, originates in Angola.
The result was that elephant herds converged along its banks and large pods of hippos could be seen wallowing in its bigger pools. From the air, the Linyanti swamps, where the Caprivi hoofs furthest south into Botswana, is a mesh of elephant and hippo paths through the marshes, bearing out the region's wealth of pachyderm life - except for rhinos, the last of which was killed by poachers some years ago.
The intention of the tour was to offer a taste of Wilderness Safaris' Explorer safaris, made up of "Discoverer" and "Adventurer" packages. These are lighter on the pocket than their luxury lodges tours but, by their more rustic nature, they bring one closer to it.
Our Linyanti camp, situated in the northern corner of the company's 125 000ha concession by that name, had small but comfortable dome tents with stretcher beds and battery-powered lanterns.
Over the top of the canvas-enclosed shower you can look out between two giant trees, one a knobthorn and the other a leadwood, across the Linyanti River at the sea of papyrus that covers the flood plain on the Namibian side. But there is not much time to admire it. The shower consists of a 5-litre bucket with a tap welded to its bottom. Besides, water is scarce and you are asked to use it sparingly.
Dinner, prepared on an open fire, consisted of steak, pap, cabbage and tomato. Afterwards, they entertained us with mournful songs about the beauty of Africa.
During the night in the dim light of a half-moon, through the open flaps of my tent, I could see shadowy figures in the shape of elephants pass soundlessly on their way to the river. A hippo grunted close by and in the morning our guide, Thuto Moutloutse, complained that the hyena had again eaten the soap that had been left in the shower.
Our 13-hour drive south-west to our "Discoverer" camp on the Okavango Delta's northernmost Selinda spillway took us through the Sevuti, which once was a wide water channel, but had dried up, leaving behind large grasslands on which herds of game graze.
Accompanying us and Moutloutse as an additional guide was Kim Nixon, who drives the exploration-type safaris.
Our accommodation at Ketumetse was more upmarket, with walk-in tents with their own showers and toilets.
Meals were served under a thatched canopy overlooking the flooded channel along which the Okavango water was edging north-east, maybe, just maybe, to eventually cross the plains and link up with the Linyanti water system, as it last did several decades ago.
There is a sense about the Okavango of being embraced by nature, that has a way, sometimes, of making you quieten your voice so as not to cause a disturbance.
To add to this aura of nature's brooding presence, there hung in the air the aroma of wet grass which came from the water pushing into areas that had not been flooded for many years, allowing the plains vegetation to invade.
From flat-bottomed boats, we rowed along the channels. In the clear waters, we could see the feeding frenzy of fish that had come with the flood.
"It will not be long before the animals converge here in numbers," said Kim.
That same morning, before flying across the wondrous watery expanse that is the Okavango Delta to catch our flight to Johannesburg from Maun, we watched in silence as an enormous elephant bull waded through the spillway.
Kim was right. It would not be many days, one sensed, before the great herds followed.
- Leon Marshall was a guest of Wilderness Safaris.
Accomodation
- The Explorer tour range has two styles: Discoverer and Adventurer.
- Weather - warm days and cool to cold at nights
- Tour itineraries may change according to seasonal movements or game
- No visas required for South Africans
- Visit Wildernes Safaris.