End of the Line.

The smoke that thunders. In colour.

Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe – The indigenous Tonga name for the falls is Mosi-oa-Tunya – the smoke that thunders – and even with water levels precariously low, they do. I feel the rumble in the ground, and in the pit of my stomach, as I approach the edge of the massive scar in the earth.

It is not surrounded by safety barriers.

Despite how dry much of the ground remains, the surrounding rainforest makes my lungs sweat. Every pore gasps for breath.

I had planned one last excursion this morning – to the Devil’s Pool – which didn’t work out. I’m gutted: this is the one activity around which I had planned the rest of the trip. For whatever the reason, one of the tour operators cancelled my months-ago booked and paid-for time slot and the rest today are filled. I’ve ventured into Zambia – amassing $100 USD in now-unneeded visas – for nothing.

Oh well; we’re safe, unharmed and have had a lot of fun. But still.

As if to calm me, a pair of rainbows bounce in the mist off the face of Victoria Falls, welcoming us to our final destination of this journey: 5,400 kilometres on the road from Cape Town and, after this morning, six new countries visited.

But, more importantly, many more miles of memories created with my father.

If there’s one thing travelling to this continent offers, it’s perspective.

Elephants and Lions, Oh My.

I'd be lion if I said she wasn't a beauty.

Chobe National Park, Botswana – Our entrance to the park is punctuated by felled trees so crimson they resemble logs of red velvet cake. The roads, however, wear the well-worn wrinkles of time, causing our guide, Perci, to slip repeatedly in the deeply pitted ruts of the sandy path.

Almost immediately, a sign of things to come: in the valley, a hundred elephants – their faces creased and grey like the roads – smack at the ground to loosen grass, salt and calcium. They are perched on three legs, alternating their balance to distribute weight, which elephants carry most of on their front legs. If you haven't noticed, that heft is substantial.

By the end of the day, we'll have seen more than 500 of them, including countless calves snuggling into their mothers as others stand guard like massive boulders at which even Atlas would have shrugged. One calf sprawls in the dusty road before us, playing gleefully and unable to control its trunk, which swings like a wet pasta noodle.

We stop, giving him right-of-way.

Interspersed among them is a herd of zebras. Alternating stripes allow them to regulate body temperature by controlling absorption of warmth like an on-off switch built into the skin. Nearby, a lioness crouches into a prowl, then decides to take a break.

Later, a rare sighting: a large pack of wild dogs, tucked under a tree. Just as lazily as the cats we have seen.

Then, the sun sets in a swirl of red, orange and purple. Backlit against the sherbet sky, elephants appear to exit the river upside down – their shadows kaleidoscoping into each other. It’s a stunning sight.

They dance us into the darkness of our campsite within the park, alone with all we have seen today. But hardly alone.

Highway Hazards.

Look left, look right. Not just for vehicles.

Somewhere, Botswana – The sun is high, lighting jagged green acacia and bulbous quiver trees along the road to Kasani. Today is our longest drive of the trip, at more than 600 kilometres.

We're paralleling the old single-lane highway, which, washed out at regular intervals by now-empty streams, more closely resembles morse code etched into the soil.

Nearby, large swaths of land have been blackened in an effort to clear them using fire. Remaining trees stand as a macabre reminder of their previous splendour. In the distance, a miles-wide plume of smoke stretches to the single cloud sitting in the sky.

In a field to the east, clumps of trees stand in completely cylindrical mounds of red earth 15-feet high, giving them the appearance of having been planted in massive clay pots. The soil has eroded all around, or a small lake has evaporated, leaving the roots to cling to survival.

Meanwhile, tiny antelope pick at closely cropped yellow grasses along the road. Giraffes barely turn their heads as we pass. A small herd of elephants, though, shrinks behind a roadside tree.

A lay-bye with a concrete table and four stools for picnicking motorists is shaded by a blue sign: "Disclaimer: This is a wildlife area. You are stopping at your own risk."

Bon appétit, but for whom?

Overlanding Tips.

Powerpoint presentation: Get in touch with nature.

Kasane, Botswana – I may not yet be as well-seasoned as our meals have been, but, having now overlanded with Africa Travel Co. on the Cape Town to Victoria Falls route, here are a few things I have learned about this trip that can help with your journey:

• Invest in a USB battery charger for your camera, and possibly a backup battery. You won't want to miss a thing. (Except some of the sand – that goes on a while.)
• Extension cords with multiple charging ports (including USB) can reduce strife and stress in camp. See above.
• Sense a theme related to power? Indeed. If you have devices to charge, consider bringing a travel-sized energy bank.
• Credit cards are, in fact, widely accepted. With pin numbers, even, which is more advanced than many places in the United States.
• Always choose the thicker sleeping mat.
• A Bluetooth speaker can inject life into camp.
• Don't hog the 'good' seats; move around the truck.
• Bring Band-Aids: setting-up tents and helping prepare meals can find ways to bite you. (Or, maybe I'm just a danger to myself.)
• Games, music, reading materials or something to occupy the time on some of the longer drives can come in handy and help make you some new friends.
• A great camp cook makes a world of difference. (Thank you, Peter!)
• Most camp sites are a lot less rugged than expected: solid infrastructure, nice washrooms – including showers with warm water – swimming pools and even wi-fi.
• It really can get cool to cold at night, particularly in the desert.
• Ask questions: there's so much to learn and you'll cross paths with some tremendously knowledgeable people.
• There are plenty of opportunities to buy food, snacks and beverages at large grocery stores along the way. Ice cream is always a hit.
• A few excursions require you to pay tips that weren't mentioned at booking, but aren't particularly expensive.
• If you're susceptible to dry skin or cracked heels, bring lotion. It's super dry for the most part, and you'll want to be in sandals much of the time.
• Lens cleaner and a small air blower are invaluable if you have a DSLR; this trip is dustier than a fraternity house.
• You may randomly see a herd of elephants at the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere: keep your eyes peeled.
• Hydrate.

As with everything else in life, you'll get out what you put into it. You're going to spend time in close quarters with all sorts of different people with varied backgrounds, values and work ethic. Roll with it. Energy and positivity can go a long way when you're several days into wake-up calls before the rooster crows.

Embrace the experience and the open road. Safari njema – pole pole.

No Words.

Magic in a mokoro.

Delta Force.

Egrets, I've had a few.

Okavango Delta, Botswana – The bleached bones of a years-dead elephant lie scattered like broken china on the lawn. Its skull is amazingly simple to lift.

Awakened before the sun, we're on a 15-kilometre hike into the Okavango Delta, where we just came within 50 metres of a pair of elephants – likely the ones from overnight. The breeze is a saviour in the already-blazing sun.

We trace sandy paths through the parched grounds of one of the larger local islands, stepping over prints left earlier by four lions. They have chased much of the wildlife to another corner of the delta. Still, skittish antelope and zebra graze amidst various elephant families.

Towering termite mounds and football-sized elephant dung punctuate the land like exclamation marks. Both are critical to the inland delta's survival.

The termite mounds, which – like icebergs – are 90 per cent underground, provide the basis for many of the delta's islands during the wet season, creating homes for wildlife. They also serve as signposts given that they point west – they follow the sun when they're still wet.

Elephant dung, meanwhile, is full of seeds and plays an essential role in 'drop planting,' ensuring life returns to the delta, providing food sources and shade.

At that, it's amazing to consider we have seen but the tiniest speck of the greater delta.

Sleepless.

My eyes, in the morning.

Okavango Delta, Botswana – The plastic bag at my father's feet crinkled like a candy wrapper.

It was, however, just the start of a much bigger symphony played out under a bejewelled sky.

I have just been rousted from my sleep by a snarling roar over my left shoulder, which was immediately greeted by a loud trumpet: an insistent reprimand.

It’s 2:30 a.m., and a lion has apparently overstepped its bounds amidst grazing elephants. There are no fences where we’re camping in the middle of the Okavango Delta.

Closer, a branch snaps. Then another.

And another, still closer. A crack. From the low tree that hangs over our tent. Dinner for some means no sleep for others.

Drawing an arc behind us like the thin moon, the massive animals make their way to the water nearby with a splash. It’s a thud of biblical proportions.

With it, the low, rooting snort of a hippo.

What a tremendous time to have to answer the call of nature.

OK, Van Gogh.

Pole pole.

Boro Village, Botswana – In unison with dragonflies in the air, water bugs skitter across the glassy surface. White day lilies sway gracefully amongst the tall reeds.

Our pilot, Kay, stabs at the ground with a long pole, guiding our narrow fibreglass mokoro – a traditional dugout canoe – through the narrow arteries of the Okavango Delta toward the island that will be our home for the next couple nights. It's utterly peaceful as we glide over the surface of the shallow water.

Apart from the odd reed that slaps you across the face as you pass.

In the distance, a massive bull elephant grazes indifferently.

In the afternoon, we have an opportunity to borrow a mokoro – standing tall with a long pole, trying to maintain balance at all costs – to visit the swimming hole. Just be sure to avoid the hippo pool, we’re told.

Free in the Okavango Delta: amazing.