A walking safari and close encounters with elephants at Kanga Expeditions.
Mana Pools chapter three
Today I’m to move camps to Kanga for the next few days, an “expedition” camp located further inland beside a watering hole.
It’s away from the river, but I’m excited to explore another part of the park, to visit another camp. But this morning I’m still at Nyamatusu and I’ve booked a walking safari before I go.
I pack my bags and load them onto the vehicle as our guide takes us to the rendezvous point. Along the way we pause when our guide spots an elephant about to use a termite mound to reach the branches of a nearby tree. It puts one foot and then another on the termite mound and stretches its trunk up to grab the leaves.
We drive on and our guide points out a guinea fowl standing upon a branch. I’ve never seen them off the ground and we stop to watch as it looks around and the flies back down to the earth.
We follow a familiar path, skirting the river, headed upstream. The sun is still in ascent and the colors of the bush lean orange and gold.
Reaching one of the pools we circle around to look at the buffalo that have collected on its shores. They seem standoffish, staring at us as we stare right back at them.
We’re fortunate also to find an elephant nearby, dappled in sunlight filtered through the leaves of the tree under which it shades.
We meet up with Trymore, who is to lead us on our walk. Before we start our walk he leads us to the edge of the pool to look at a bloat of hippopotamus submerged within.
Trymore leads us into the bush, sometimes kicking at the dirt. I ask him why he does this. To check the wind direction.
After walking a bit he bids us pause. A couple of elephants are headed our way and we stop to watch them approach each other and then walk past.
Unfortunately, our walk is somewhat abbreviated. My guide has an airport pickup and he still needs to pass me off to a guide from Kanga Camp. Still, it was great being on the ground, and now that I know Zimbabwe has such experienced walking guides, a plan begins to formulate in my mind to return next year with a walking guide request.
We take off in different directions, Trymore back to the camp, us to the west where we meet Brian at an intersection of dirt roads. I transfer my bags and Brian takes me to Kanga, driving through dense brush before we reach a clearing and the camp itself.
The main lodge and all of the tents abut one edge of a large watering hole, which seems half-full. They pump water to keep it viable, but the pump can’t compete with the needs and evaporation.
Jason welcomes me to the lodge and explains the basics. There’s a charging station in the main lodge for computers and phones; there’s no charging ports in the tents themselves. Part of me welcomes the fact that I’ll be divorced somewhat from my devices.
I’m then led to my tent. It’s the furthest from the lodge and, in my opinion, the best. It has a clearing in the back that becomes my own private armchair safari spot and a wrap-around deck that I’m to learn elephants love to walk right up to.
Within the first ten minutes an elephant lumbers up to the tent and I edge slowly onto the deck so that I can watch it feed. I move slowly, scooting on my butt in search of angles that hide the railings. But I’m just excited to be able to be so close to these elegant creatures and watch as they go about their lives, aware but unperturbed by my presence.
After I spend some time in my tent I head back to the lodge for lunch. There are elephants crossing the path and I wait patiently for them to make their way towards the watering hole, happy to see them and in no rush for them to complete their journey.
The lodge has its own hide under the sitting area and Brian shows me a slick way to reach it by climbing from the deck. It’s an awesome place from which to watch the waterhole activity. At times I am literally sitting at the foot of elephants as they pass.
The lodge has a small plunge pool and I’m eager to take the opportunity to cool off before lunch. I head back towards my tent, following in the footsteps of an elephant who is also using the path to reach the farthest tents.
Once I’m back I’m enchanted once again with the close encounters I can experience at my tent and linger as a family of elephants wanders past my tent and the clearing in the back. I don’t leave until they do, after which I dig out my swimsuit, change, and head back to the lodge.
Elephants continue to cross the path and I wait patiently for them to pass. Until they don’t. I wait while a family stands by and then decide to continue on to the lodge. When he sees me he’s surprised and asks how I managed to pass. I assumed that if you treat the animals with respect and deference they’ll do the same.
The pool is a bit muddy but I can’t resist taking a dip, and I’m excited when the elephants come back to drink. I’m rewarded with a front-row seat.
After lunch I head back down into the blind for a bit to watch the elephants come in for refreshment, astonished again at how graceful and elegant they are, especially up so close.
After lunch I head back to my tent to take a shower before the afternoon drive. Once again, elephants block the path, and once again, it’s mesmerizing to watch them as they make their way to and from the waterhole. I feel immensely lucky that I get to witness them so close and from the ground, especially when I see mothers and their young.
Brian drives us out of the camp and into the bush, pointing out various items as we pass, a buffalo skull, trees almost but not quite felled by elephants on the road. When we reach the latter he steps out of the vehicle and completes the work the elephants started, dragging the tree out of the way.
We continue driving west towards a large dry river bed. The sun sinks lower in the sky, the day growing more and more golden as it continues on its trajectory towards the horizon.
The river bed is wide and when we arrive we spot an elephant hiding behind a tree. We drive slowly towards it and it suffers our presence for a bit before it turns and lumbers towards the opposite bank.
We continue driving down the river, towards Zambia and the Zambezi until we find our own tree to stop under. Brian pulls out the cooler and I help set the table upon which he sets up snacks before preparing a gin and tonic for our sundowner.
The light at Mana Pools is one of its defining features and we’re rewarded with a stunning sunset, a beautiful gradient silhouetting the trees.
Once the sun is set I help Brian put away our things. He sees porcupines in the distance through his binoculars and drives us towards them but we’re too slow to catch them.
A little further on we stumble upon a pride of lions lazing in the sand. I don’t even notice them until we’re completely upon them, their golden forms cast in reddish hues by the dying light.
Brian drives up to them and shines a flashlight on them for a better view. They seem unconcerned, they don’t even glance in our direction.
He switches to the headlights of the vehicle and we linger, watching them as they slowly rouse themselves, yawning and nuzzling each other as they pass.
Brian laments that we didn’t drive a little further earlier so that we could have seen them in the full light of the day, but I tell him that this is great. The bush shows us what it wants to show us and I’m excited we had the opportunity to see them at all. It’s also amazing to watch them interact as night falls and they rouse themselves, possibly in preparation for a hunt.
We need to get back to camp, but we’re both hesitant to leave. Finally, Brian makes a decision and we wind our way back home.
At dinner I’m seated with Joyce and Cliffy, the walking guide at the camp. Joyce tells me that if I move to Zimbabwe I can get land and some starter cows. I ask her how many. We’d start with five and see how you do. I ask them how much cows and goats cost. Cows run between 250 and 300 USD; goats are relatively cheap at 20 USD a head. I ask Cliffy if I can trade ten goats for a cow. He said it’s possible, but people all prefer cash.
I ask him what his favorite animal is and he tells me it’s the honey badger. It seems to be constantly thinking about ways in which to mess you up. I ask him what the rarest animals he’s seen are. He tells me he’s seen pangolins four times, but an aardvark just once.
As we chat after dinner Cliffy suddenly gets up and waves his spotlight over at the group on photo safari who have decamped to the couches over the hide. He hisses leopard and spotlights one that he spotted in the dark. I’m astounded. How did you even see that?
When it’s time to go to bed Jason tells me that the night before a guest sounded the air horn because there was an elephant outside their tent. They had sounded the whistle first but Jason wasn’t fast enough getting dressed and so they escalated. He asks me not to do that. I tell him there’s not a chance. I’d welcome an elephant into my bed. He laughs. 🇿🇼
— 12 Sep 2025
