How Botswana filled my cup. With gin.
Words, Video & Images Ben McNamara
How Botswana filled my cup. With gin.
Words, Video & Images Ben McNamara
It’s an hour ‘til sunset and I'm in lion territory… on a bike. A pushbike. I read once that lions start hunting at sunset, which has made me immensely dislike reading. My first and last bike ride in Botswana might be here in the Kalahari. What a way to go - eaten by Simba while trying to figure out how to shift gears.
The sky reflects off of the grasslands that are so big and open I can hear my grandma asking it to cover up.
It’s an hour ‘til sunset and I'm in lion territory…on a bike. A pushbike. I read once that Lions start hunting at sunset, which has made me immensely dislike reading. My first and last bike ride in Botswana might be here in the Kalahari. What a way to go - eaten by Simba while trying to figure out how to shift gears.
The sky reflects off of the grasslands that are so big and open I can hear my grandma asking it to cover up.
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As my chicken legs furiously chew through soft sand, my eyes start jumping between the countless animals on the horizon - vultures, jackals, buffalo, zebra, elephants, butterflies, meerkats, monkeys - and realise I’m the least competent of the kingdom. No claws. No wings or tusks. Just brains. Utterly useless.
How's that for a sunset?
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As I fret around, I notice a stalker-ish tension to the way all these animals are behaving and following each other. “The number one rule” our guide yells over his shoulder rising above the sound of cicadas.…” is if I can see you, you can't kill me as easily”. Zebras following hyenas through the dusty plains, meerkats watching jackals in the distance. The hunted following the hunter.
Know where your enemies are, and you might be able to stay one step ahead...I can’t see any lions, but I also left my glasses in my tent.
Three kilometres later, with calves trembling and nerves humming, we coast into a micro camp where a small fire waits, overlooking an endless silver salt lake. My eyes dart to the bar, desperate for a stiff drink to celebrate my survival.
Campfire chats are some of the best.
"Gin and sonic?” That’s a cute lisp, I think to myself.
“Sonic - soda and tonic. Less sugar,” Prince, the local guide tells me, looking non-chalantly badass in his khakis and wide brimmed hat. The sky looks like it’s on fire behind him.
Little do I know that I’ve just happened upon one of safari’s most enduring rituals; the sundowner. A moment to stop, reset and be grateful as we experience the earth roll away from our big star. Colours and moods shift, shoulders relax and lungs exhale.
Prince holds up the bottle of gin like everyone’s fave iconic Disney scene.
Gimme some of that gin rn.
The Okavango Delta is peaceful in a way most places aren't.
"Ya know, this gin is shaped by where you stand. It can help us tell the story of the delta. This secret is the water” we’re told, nodding toward the vastness in front of us.
By the firelight, with the crackle of nature’s TV filling the air we listen.
"The Okavango Delta is what happens when a river forgets where the ocean is..."
"Fed by distant Angolan rains, the water flows south until it meets the flat sands of the Kalahari, loses momentum, spreads outward instead of forward, and in doing so creates one of the most extraordinary ecosystems on Earth.
From the sky it looks like a giant set of lungs, which feels apt because water is what breathes life into the Kalahari...and the gin."
Aww, look at that face.
Okavango gin. The first gin distillery in Botswana, which also employs the first Botswanian gin distiller.
The distillery is humble but effortlessly cool. It sits within a UNESCO world heritage site in the middle of the delta completely off-grid. Elephants wander by as local Mopane seeds are dropped off by neighbouring communities. Monkeys swing overhead as the gin is distilled, bottled, packaged and sent out across the country to help calm the nerves of the next anxious bike rider.
Meet the first distiller of Botswana.
The gin itself is delicious and no slouch according to the pros - a 2x gold medallist at the 2022 San Francisco World Spirits Awards. To me, the connection and responsibility to place is my favourite tasting note. The Mopane seed is the local ingredient that gives it it’s unique flavour, and that’s sourced locally with stories of overflowing taxis arriving from 2 hours North from local farmers after a WhatsApp message was sent out.
It's a modern interpretation of African ingenuity, community and taste.
The distillery is the main sponsor of a local playgroup in Tsutsubega, providing inclusive early childhood education through the Aflatot program alongside daily meals for young children, including those with intellectual disabilities. They also employ 6 Batswana women via their recycling program, which collects and re-uses bottles from the lodges and safaris throughout the country.
V cool label too.
The gin itself is delicious and no slouch to pros - a 2x gold medallist at the 2022 San Francisco World Spirits Awards. To me, the connection and responsibility to place is my favourite tasting note. The Mopane seed is the local ingredient that gives it it’s unique flavour, and that’s sourced locally with stories of overflowing taxis arriving from 2 hours North from local farmers after a WhatsApp message was sent out.
It's a modern interpretation of African ingenuity, community and taste.
The distillery is the main sponsor of a local playgroup in Tsutsubega, providing inclusive early childhood education through the Aflatot program alongside daily meals for young children, including those with intellectual disabilities. They also employ 6 Botswana women through their recycling program which collects and re-uses bottles from the Lodges and safaris throughout the country.
So here I stand with this magical gin in hand, my brain swimming in feel-good chemicals with some intriguing new friends huddled around a campfire, and I'm pondering life from the birthplace of our species. This, I think, is the magical process of 'having a sundowner’.
Back at Camp Kalahari, the sun has officially checked out for the day.
I sit on the porch of my tent, the sky thick with stars and elephants shuffling somewhere beyond the darkness. The sense that nothing urgent exists beyond this moment. I’m twelve hours into my Botswana adventure, and I feel like I’ve slipped into an alternate lifetime. But that, I think, is the greatest gift of travel.
Gin anyone?
get in the know On safari, there’s no hard rule about who has right of way. If an elephant is on the path, you wait. If a lion is nearby, you turn around. Democracy simply does not apply.
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