The small bush plane in the Okavango Delta is the only way in/out of camp for guests and villagers.  When I arrived with the other two couples, I thought the small plane was enough of a thrill for the short flight and I was happy to be on the ground.  Each night at dinner, different pilots would eat with us and we would talk about our adventures.  One pilot was from Australia, another from New Zealand so it made for interesting conversations comparing experiences and travels – everyone was quite well traveled.

While the flight into camp was on a six seat plane, the flight out would be just me and the Canadian couple on a four seat plane.  We said our goodbyes to our guides and boarded our plane for our flight to Chobe.

The flying time was a bit over an hour and unlike the smooth clear day we were presented with a dusty dry day – all I would see for an hour would be the dust – not quite the scenic flight of Botswana that I had on the flight in when I could see the elephants.  Sitting in front with the very young, handsome pilot from Boston, I was unnerved by seeing brown dust for so long and as it was so loud I wasn’t able to talk to anyone so I just stared out of the window hoping for the sky to clear.   There were no photos to take after the initial takeoff .

Once out of the major dust, I was happy to see a lone road in the mountains and a few other distractions before we landed at the airport.  This would be my last bush plane flight and just like the Okavango, it was all part of the experience – albeit a bit scary but I guess that’s part of the excitement too?