A lot of our viewing in Etosha was at the waterholes, where we would sit in the car and wait and watch, and watch and wait. Sometimes we would see stuff, and sometimes we wouldn’t. On the open plains, too, we would drive and drive and see very little, and then we would come across vast herds of springbok, or zebra, or wildebeest, or oryx, whose sheer numbers would overpower the eye – I will include a few photos later, to see if I can give you a sense of the sheer scale of things.
At one waterhole, we were watching a few antelope and zebra when out of the bushes to our right, in the distance, a herd of elephants emerged – and man, were they in a hurry! They headed straight for the waterhole and splashed right through it, with barely a pause, and marched on smartly into the bushes to our left. Something must have spooked them, because we barely had time to register what was happening before they had passed before our eyes and disappeared again.
Back at the camp – Halali, this time – we watched as the sun went down over the Moringa waterhole, and – just as the sun was directed straight into the lens – saw a black rhino emerge and head down to the water. Thereby hangs a tale, one that calls for a blog post all of its own, but here is one photo just to set the scene for you.