Big sky in Botswana

"No, no," he says. "Why are you here?"

Maybe he is asking me not logistics but life's Big Question. We could have tea and a talk. But at last, when I pull out my camera and a brochure picturing a giraffe, he nods. I get a stamp. I am allowed to pass.

I meet my safari group in Maun, a town with no more than three or four stores but with a large and multicolored herd of friendly goats.

This is my first time in Africa, and everything is a surprise. The goats. Our guide, Peter, who is not Botswanian but Swiss, and our safari van, a Toyota pickup with comfy seating, a canvas canopy, even a fridge bolted onto the bed.

Botswana, which sits in the middle of southern Africa, is big sky country, and the dry horizon seems to stretch on and on. Much of the land here is desert, including the famous Kalahari, but we will be camping in the Okavango River delta, which lures animals and makes the desert green.

We load up our gear, and Peter speeds us out of town along a dusty road. Bouncing around in back, besides me, are Wolfgang, from Vienna, and Andreas, a nervous German who has questions about birds, trees, African cigarettes -- everything we see.

Also in the tour group is Louise from Dublin, who spots our first impala, a suede-soft female who hops into the air when she sees us and disappears. And there is Anders, a middle-aged Dane who has the latest in safari khaki, a shiny new bowie knife, and a hunter's hat.

This is almost too cross-cultural for words.

Andreas is whistling as we drive deep into some scrubby woods. He is still whistling as we pull to a stop by a line of canvas tents and a table set with wooden bowls of snacks and glasses for wine.

Nxabega Okavango Safari Camp will be our home for the first two nights. This may be the bush, but CC Africa stewards do nearly everything. They cook and pour drinks, set up cots for sleeping, and clean up afterward.

"Any tsetse flies around here?" Anders asks warily, poking his head through the flap of the latrine. He doesn't look happy, but I am. Our stewards have somehow brought along and rigged up a porcelain toilet with water to pour in and flush. Luxury.

Showers will rain out of a bag that hangs on a tree branch, and in our tents is a selection of "African Grass" brand toiletries. Shampoo, conditioner, and gel. We've got it all.