Time to stop rushing around in a vehicle. Time to start thinking. Time to stop being a spectator. Time to start being a participant. In short, it was time to walk: and so we crossed the Luangwa River in Zambia by canoe and set off for Chokoko Bush Camp, with Goodson the scout in front with his rifle to keep us safe.

And of course, one of the deepest pleasures of walking anywhere is when you stop walking. After one of those perfect fresh-made Luangwa mornings we sat down in a glade of winterthorns in the company of a pair of saddle-billed storks, a small group of impalas, a solitary male puku and three male kudu with their fine twisty horns.

But no sooner had we taken our places when a few more seekers after peace entered the glade: three fully grown elephants, all females, a teenager and a baby small enough to pass beneath its mother’s belly without inconvenience.

In the Luangwa valley you defer to elephants, so we retired a few dozen paces while Goodson stayed where he was, between us and the elephants, banging a stick against a fallen branch in slow rhythm, just so they knew we were there. Elephants love the curly seedpods that fall from the winterthorns: eventually this lot moved away unhurriedly with the grace of a flotilla of tall ships.

So we went back and took our tea: an orange-breasted bush shrike singing his variations on Beethoven’s Fifth and a pair of black-collared barbets performing their duet. Yesterday we had all the excitement in the world as the lions took on the buffaloes in fair fight: today as much peace as you could hope for. But in the Valley, peace always has a slight edge to it.

As we approached camp across a fine plain, the same group of elephants crossed our path again. After you!

 

• I was co-leading a trip with wildlifeworldwide.com
• Next trip wildlifeworldwide.com/group-tours/walking-safari-in-heart-of-zambia