We park Belinda outside a large, wooden main lodge-looking building and go in to investigate. It’s a beautifully rustic but still modern looking building. Seems like it was built just yesterday.
A tall, thin man with a nice wide smile and five o’clock shadow waves from inside. He comes down the front steps to greet us, “Welcome, welcome. This is Thobolo’s Bush Lodge. Do you have a reservation with us?” “No, the folks from Chobe told us about you. We’ve got a truck” I point back to dusty Belinda, “so just need a spot to park really.” “Ok, great. Yes there are plenty of sites.” “Perfect.” “Follow me. I’ll show you around.”
He takes us inside and up some wooden steps to a huge open room and balcony area. The whole place is wide open to the elements. No doors. No windows. There is a nice breeze coming through. Smells good too. The kitchen from the first floor is sending notes of cooked beef and seared vegetables up to the patio above. There is a living room area with leather couches, some cocktail tables on whiskey barrels, marbled tile to the balcony and hardwood floors throughout the rest of the place. A baller looking bar in the corner too.
A family of four is enjoying a meal on the balcony. The long deck and railing looks out on an amazing watering hole. Actually two. One directly in front of us and another, barely visible, off in the distance. Some moonlight glinting off the water there. A herd of water buffalo are grazing at the waters edge. Wow. Insanely great place to enjoy dinner. Looks like we may have accidentally nailed it with this Thobolos place. Thank you Chobe gate employees.
Our guide politely stays quiet on the balcony while we look around so as not to interrupt the family’s meal. What a gentleman. He motions for us to come back inside and walks over to the bar area. He softly leans back and says, “Which way did you come?” “The ahhh, dead giraffe way.” “Oh yes, the lions got it. We’ll leave it there for them. Don’t want to disturb their kill.”
The bar is dope. A nice, epoxied wood bar top resting on whisky barrels. There are two stocked fridges, a couple of taps, and a wall with liquor bottles mounted upside down on it. They look ready to serve if you just press a glass up to the pouring spout. It’s a nice spread: Jameson, some I-dunno-what-that-is-Russian-vodka, a South African gin, Klippies, Seagram’s, and a couple of scotches, Glenlivet and Passport. Wasn’t expecting this out here in the middle of nowhere. That view over there and these beverage prospects are angling for combo of the year.
Our guide runs his hand along the wood of the bar. “It is a self serve.” He picks up a little notebook and holds it up, “Just mark down what you take and pay in the morning. Honor bar…”
Time freezes for a short spell while all of our eyes triple in size. A choir of angels appears just above our heads. A heavenly harmony of descending notes “Ahhhhhh ahhhhh ahhhhhhhh.” Grins form in slow motion across our faces as the words “Honor Bar-bar-bar-bar-bar” echo and bounce around the room. A vision forms: The four of us in the air. Hovering. A synchronized, leaping high-five, all hands connecting perfectly. The shockwaves push blackholes away like tumbleweeds and shatter distant galaxies…
Mark is the first to break the spell, “Honor bar… that’s ahhh.. Dangerous haha.” The man laughs, “Oh you fellas drink?” “Like fish, ya.” Drisdelle is there to pile it on, “Actually, we’ll need at least double what you have here.” Peter adds, “…just for tonight.” Everyone cracks. A fist pounds the bar. The family outside has missed the joke but looks back smiling at the goonery.
The Guide says he has to return to the kitchen and leaves us with a young, local couple. They must do the odd jobs and maintenance around camp. They smile and walk us over to the sites. Doesn’t look like any other vehicles are here tonight. They motion with wide arms, “All available.” We pick one a short walk from the ablutions. They take us over.
“Do you have torches?” “We have headlamps, yes.” “Ok good. There will be elephants, buffalo, and lions walking to the water throughout the night.” “Ahhhh…” “Do you need wood?” “Yes please, that would be great.” They return shortly with a wheel barrow full of wood and proceed to set up a log cabin-style fire for us. I give them 50 pula and he apologizes for not having change. I say we don’t need it.
We pop Belinda’s top and sides open and start breaking out the camp. There’s a loud, angsty “Moooooooooooooo!!” that startles us and we instinctively gather together on the opposite side of the truck. We take a look. There are a dozen water buffalo crossing through camp to the watering hole just 30 yards from the site. Peter steps back, “Fuck me. Those meat fridges are close.” “Keep trucking there, fellas.” We watch them mooooove along.
The buffalo aren’t the only sounds out here. Crowing and whistling birds, trilling insects, growling… something not far away (African wild dogs maybe?), elephants trumpeting in the distance. It’s a wild symphony blasting from the dark in every direction. With us in the middle of it all and it couldn’t be more dark. Hmmm I think beers are in order.
Jamie gets back to putting out the camp table, “I miss Namibia with the fenced in sites.” I’m unfolding chairs around it, “Namibia is for pussies haha.” “Lol Pussy or not, being alive is way more fun.” “Fair. But this is definitely more exciting.” “Terrifying is what it is. But ya… exciting too.”
After we finish the requisite set-up-camp-beers. Mark has a few gin and bitter lemons mixed up and is placing them around the table. “Here’s your gin and doxycycline, boys.” “Haha, thanks man.” “I drove through the circle of life today. Juvenile leopard in the morning and dead giraffe at the end here.” “Yep full circle. What a crazy place. Strange to think we’ll be in Lusaka a week from now. A city, you know?” “Ya, no idea what to expect from that city.” “Me neither. Don’t even know if it’s an actual <air quotes> City </air quotes>.”
Peter’s seasoning some lamb chops and has his eye on the rest of the meat. “Should we just cook up all this shit tonight in case we cross the border tomorrow?” “Good point. Ya screw it, let’s do these short ribs too then. Here, I’ll cut up the veggies.” A clan of hyenas start cackling down by the water while an elephant is bleating in the distance. “Dude sounds mad as fuck. Insane sound, that.” “Ya, this place is nuts.”
We hear footsteps approaching past the campfire radius. Our Thobolos guide from before walks into view amongst all the crazy sounds. He smiles at the industrial-grade food prep that’s going on. He just draws a circle around it with his finger and flips that into a thumbs up.
“You guys all good?” “Yep, it’s great. Thanks.” “Are you having a good time?” “Oh yeah. Thank you. Amazing place you’ve got here.” “It is. Ok, great. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” “Ok, goodnight”
The camp feast is coming together. We piece together an onion, garlic, carrots, zucchini, bacon and short rib soup. Grilled green peppers. Chow. Sweet and smoky bbq lamp chops. It looks incredible. “Dude, we’re knocking it out of the park again.” “Can’t wait. Look at those chops. This is the best.”
Animals off in the dark on either side with all their cacophony of varied sounds. We stoke the fire and sit at the table to take it in over dinner. Beautiful night, killer drinks, and another baller meal. “We gone done did it again.” Mark raises his glass, “Cheers boys. This rules.”
There’s a quick and sharp wail from the direction of the watering hole. “Is that James Brown getting into a hot tub?” Peter knows what I’m talking about, “Haha yeeeeeoooow! That old SNL skit haha. It’s too hot in the hot tub!” Everyone’s doing their best impression of Eddie Murphy doing his best James Brown impression. “It’s too hot! Take me to the bridge. Take me to the bridge.” Drisdelle draws a connection to The Crunge. “Where is that confunded bridge?” “Haha nice. Crossover hit.”
There’s a new crazy sound coming from East of the watering hole now. “Ok that sounds like an elephant dying. Right?” “Definitely in pain.” “I didn’t know what an elephant being eaten alive sounded like until tonight.” “This is bonkers.”
The couple that were having dinner on the lodge balcony walk by with their kids and say hello. We smile and wave hello back. The little boy is cute. Looks fearless. There’s growling just a minute later from the direction they went. “That’s gonna be a tough little kid.” “If he survives the night, ya.” More growling. “Fuck sakes, what is that?”
There’s a new, never-before-heard sound every 5 minutes. We listen and try to parse out what all the animals are. There’s heavy breathing on either side of us. Dogs? Hyenas? Better not be a leopard. Now there’s heavy footsteps. Elephants or water buffalo. Howling. Growling. Heavy purring. Grunting. This is nuts. It’s even crazier than last night at Xakanaxa.
I grab the plates and bring them to Drisdelle who’s taken up his regular resident clean-up duties. “Let’s get these spotless and stowed away.” “For sure. Don’t need lions ripping the truck apart in the middle of the night.” “So you know what I’m thinking we do now?” “Honor bar?” “Big time. I’ll rally the troops.”
There’s no rallying necessary. Everyone was on the same page the instant the honor bar idea was floated. We drove the Chobe 500 relentlessly all day and now it’s time to reward ourselves. We pack up the dishes and grab our headlamps. I put a knife on my belt. Doubt it will do anything against the beasts out here. A little mental comfort though, maybe.
We quickly cross the sketch distance between the truck and the Thobolos lodge. Up the steps and over to the bar. There are zero people in here and a fully stocked fridge and wall of booze. Danger zone indeed.