Inside Xigera, Africa’s Best Safari Lodge Deep In Botswana’s Okavango Delta

“We’ll give it a go,” says my guide Des, as he turns our four-wheel drive around in one smooth swerve, looking for a male lion. We hurtle through long grasses towards the open plains, led by its rumbling roar echoing through the delta. Our chances of tracking him down are getting slimmer. The sun pulls itself up above the horizon, and the air is warming up. The lion will soon settle down to sleep through the day’s heat only to rise again at night when the temperatures are cooler.

Des stops the rattling vehicle. He listens out for the alarm calls of birds and other prey signalling that a lion is close by. Des whips out a pair of binoculars, eyes darting across the plains, now pink in the rising sun. I look at my watch: 6am. We continue to drive around, looking for lion tracks on dry paths, but we don’t pick up any. We stop, Des gets his binoculars out again and before he can say anything, I see a large female elephant running towards us, her two babies in tow. She stops at a bush by our car, which the little family feeds on, swaying from side to side, their ears rippling as they flap away insects. We sit without making a sound for what could have been minutes or hours.

A voice crackles through the car radio. Des picks it up, listens, says something in Setswana. Before he says a word, we jostle forward, careering across the land. One of the other guides has spotted a large pack of wild dogs about to make a kill – a rare sight, Des tells me on our way. We spot two of Xigera’s other white safari cars zipping through the grasses ahead, when suddenly 30 hyena-like dogs jump out onto the path, lunging for the deer in the field next to us, which skips away. Des, a professional wildlife photographer, whips out his camera plugged into a heavy lens, excitedly snapping the rabid hounds before they get back to their pups in their den nearby.

The sun is high up in the sky now but the breeze is still cool and carries the sweet scent of the dry grasses heating up in the sun. Des seeks out a spot in the open, where we set up for breakfast on proper fold-out table and chairs, laden with a crisp white table cloth and various carefully labeled packets of things to eat. As we eat and chat in the shade of an Acacia tree, our eyes follow a family of small silvery warthogs crossing in the distance.

On our way back to camp, as Des snaps a few bright beautiful birds that he points out to me, two giant giraffes pull into sight, picking their way through a leafy tree, their gold and brown coats glistening in the light. “Not bad for a first morning,” he tells me, smiling his brilliant white smile.

I landed the day before, and already, my head was swimming with new images and sensations. I had traveled from Johannesburg to Maun, a town on the Thamalakane River in northern Botswana, which is the jumping-off point to the Okavango Delta and its wealth of wildlife.

I was bound for Xigera, pronounced “kee-jera,” a word depicting the kingfisher’s flight before diving to catch fish, in the language of the local Bayei river people. Since it reopened at the end of 2020 following a $30 million makeover, Xigera has been coined the best – and, at $10,000 a night, the most expensive – safari lodge in Africa.

At Maun Airport, I hopped on a tiny (four-seater) plane that would take me to the middle of nowhere. From above, houses scattered, giving way to the mossy green delta criss-crossed with shimmery rivers like small veins, as far as the eye could see. An hour later, the plane lowered and floated down effortlessly to a small dirt landing strip.

Just before we reach the lodge, I’m struck by the sight of a pair of beautiful curvaceous zebras. “The welcome committee,” laughs Des, who would be my guide during my time here. It was my first time seeing zebras this close and roaming free. We cross a wooden path to the lodge which sits above the leafy ground on stilts on the edge of a river. It’s smaller than I imagined, and extremely smart. The all-wood, open plan structure starts in the bar with seating arranged around a giant copper waterlily, the hotel emblem, and flows into the restaurant, open on all sides, revealing the lush green surrounds. On the other side, the award-winning Oratile “Lollipop” Tom heads up the Tata Harper spa, where you can have a massage with a local rungu baton, and a dip in the pool that hangs above the river.

Twelve guest suites lie behind the library, across more interconnected pathways winding through trees with monkeys dangling from their branches, scattered with artworks. More than 80 artists from the region were tapped by the owners to create pieces from smooth benches carved out of fallen tree trunks to vibrant paintings depicting the natural surrounds. And for true adventurers, there’s the tented baobab tree house where you can sleep under the stars, surrounded by the delta’s beasts roaming free and hunting down their next meal as soon as the sun has set.

Part of the Tollman family’s portfolio of 40 hospitality brands, Mr Stanley Tollman had his heart set on making Xigera the finest safari lodge in the world. He instructed his daughter Toni Tollman that no expense was to be spared to ensure every suite was air-conditioned, evoked a safari tent style without actually being tented, with all the mod cons of the world’s very best luxury hotels. It also had to be in line with the local government sustainability regulations, so the lodge runs almost entirely on solar energy.

The detail is unrivaled. The walls are hardwood but covered in thick beige tarpaulin that winds down like a tent but over glass windows, reminding guests that this is indeed a safari lodge. The decor is steeped in a regional style and every item of furniture has been hand-crafted. Sofas are upholstered in thick fabrics the color of the earth, sideboards have vivid checkered patterns, outdoor dens strewn with cushions look out onto the delta, bars come encased in a metal shell embossed with lilies, there are enormous mahogany four-poster beds and copper free-standing bathtubs to soak in while watching grazing zebra, deer and lechwe outside.

A spot of lunch later, I’m lacing up my walking boots — not that I would do a lot of walking out here — and head out for my very first game drive. While you can do safari on foot, I opted for the safety of a four-wheel drive. Des was waiting for me, carrying a large bag. “Sundowners,” he says, motioning the safari-tent colored bag.

The sun is starting to lower, the breeze cooler. Having heard of all the incredible Big-Five sightings at Xigera, after driving for more than an hour and Des pointing out a wealth of birds and lechwes, as beautiful as they were, I was suddenly anxious about what we’d see, if anything. But then we stopped at a watering hole where a group of 10 huge smooth gray hippos bathed, only their bulbous eyes visible.

A voice crackled over the radio. Des turns the car around and speeds up through the bush. “One of the other guides might have found something,” he says. The sun glows a fiery orange in the purple sky, we zip by the tallest palm trees I have ever seen, and bushy acacia trees, sausage trees with their hanging bundles, and big brown baobab trees turn to deep purple silhouettes.

Des explains how the tons of “islands” of raised earth we see scattered across the plains, are created by enormous termites. Mesmerized by the boldness of the colors and the changing light, I don’t notice we’ve stopped until I spot another Xigera car, its passengers smiling contentedly. In front of a spiky bush is a pride of lions – three beautiful sand-colored lionesses and their nine cubs sit still, watching us, before feeling at ease enough to continue play-fighting and cuddling. Des reaches for the large square bag in the front and pours an Okavango gin and tonic, distilled right here in the delta, which we sip on while watching the pride in awe.

That evening, Des escorts me to a fire pit where other guests mingle as the chefs set up a buffet of local specialties. “You’ll see, this is something very special. Good thing you are here for it,” Quest Maundo, the lodge manager tells me as we sit at a table. A man’s loud clear voice boomed around the fire pit as he tells a local folk tale, a woman’s voice rings out bird-like, as a group of people emerge from the darkness, their faces lit by the fire as they beat drums and sticks on the dirt floor, and move around the fire, singing, dancing. I became wholly entranced the magic of their music and power of their unison. When it was over, Quest explained that this “Boma” is how locals celebrate important events and was instigated by the staff. Of course, this was a lodge with all the trimmings, but the Boma transcended all time and place, pulling apart layers of luxury, fuelled by the delta’s wilderness, the culture of a country’s people and the depth of their wonderful souls.

Other evenings were by comparison far more traditional, with chefs’ tables manned by resident South African headman Ziyaad Brown or sous-chef Oliver Coetzee accompanied by drinks carefully prepared by a bespectacled sommelier who also heads the low-lit bar and goes by the name of Mister B. With his crisp uniform and natural elegance, he makes the experience feel like something out of an old James Bond movie.

The next days are punctuated by more wonderful sightings of animals, including buffalos, antelopes, koodoos, squirrels and giant lizards, and a magical ride on the river by Mokoro, a local dugout boat. I ride with Limit, who has spent his whole life on the river, and Quest, who tells me his tales of traveling along the river to villages, including Limit’s home, that lie truly off the grid a three-day canoe ride away.

As we glide through a floating garden of white lilies that coat the water’s mirror-like surface, the oarsman tells me how his mother taught him to use the lilies’ hollow stems to drink water “so the crocodiles don’t see the movement of your hands in the water as you drink from it.” I felt slightly uneasy knowing reptiles roamed in the shallow waters beneath our dinky boat, but that was soon forgotten when looking out at the river, like a ribbon of shimmering blue snaking through the tall grasses.

The next morning, we spent a good part of our time searching for leopards that another guide had sighted, tracking its prints in the dry earth. Two young cubs and their mother were in the area. Taking cues from the other guides, we ride through the delta, examining thickets when suddenly we see one of the cubs crouching behind a large gray rock. Upon hearing us, he stands wearily before breaking into a slinky run. I was slightly shaken up, not expecting to see a leopard.

Heading back to the lodge for breakfast, the other guests greeted me with their stories of sitting by the trio of leopards all morning. Even if I had seen one of the cubs, it was a fleeting sighting. Sensing my disappointment, Des reminded me that leopards are elusive and can be quite skittish, and that it’s nature’s way. He was right of course and I reveled instead in everything else that made this stay so very special.

By the afternoon, I had forgotten our search for leopards, but as we drove around on our second game drive of the day, Des suddenly spots a leopard wrapped around a low-hanging branch of a sausage tree, quietly resting in the shade, the cool breeze ruffling its golden spotted coat. My skin prickled with sheer awe as I looked up in disbelief. Even if I sat in a four-wheel drive and was staying at one of the world’s finest lodges, all that suddenly fell away, leaving a sensation of deep connection to this vast expanse of land.

Reminders of being surrounded by true wilderness were everywhere. Monkeys and baboons bounded on the walkways, looking at me quizzically as though I were an intruder, which of course, I was. And when I headed back to my room, I was surprised by a big beautiful elephant feeding on a tree next to my balcony.

As my stay neared the end, the perfect send-off was sitting with our herd of lionesses and their cubs, which we stumbled upon almost by chance as they stretched out under bushes, sheltering from the day’s heat. It was hard to leave, but we were meeting Quest and front of house manager, his wife, Malaki, a witty woman with a fantastic sense of humor, for a special send-off of sundowners in a dry riverbed.

As the sun filtered out of the huge skies filled with thick swirling gray cloud, a herd of 15 or more elephants slowly crossed the river, oblivious to our presence, their young holding onto their mothers’ tails, as they migrated to somewhere deeper in the delta. Des flew behind his camera, capturing the scene, that even for him, who was out on the plains every day, was magic.

These are soul stirring images you never forget, the sort of experiences that are life-changing, of course. But what has left an even bigger impression is getting to know the people of Xigera. Their switched-on nature, laid-back mindset, enveloping warmth and kindness, their humor, proper conversations and gentle honesty, made my stay at Xigera feel unusally like staying with friends, making my time here evermore special.

The Okavango Delta is restorative in ways that run deep, reinstilling balance. Forcing you to go with the flow, here time is spent soaking it all up and immersing yourself in the surrounds and culture through the people, letting you shed the layers of city life. For here in the delta, you are not in control. Life ticks to the pace of nature, to the heat of the sun, the shadows of the moon, the elusiveness of the animals. “Go out expecting nothing,” Des always says. “But let’s give it a go to see what we find.”