We were supposed to be up and rolling by 5.30 but not today. Our vehicles should have been setting off into the wonders of South Luangwa National Park in Zambia but there they were, still parked up, still all together and still empty.

The reason for the hold-up was obvious enough: about 12 feet high at the shoulder and getting on for six tonnes. An elephant, a bull of very respectable size, had moved purposefully into the grounds of Mfuwe Lodge and was in no itchin’ hurry to move.

Why should he? He was standing underneath a wild mango tree and the wild mangos were falling. He wasn’t going to move on until he had hoovered up precisely as many of them as he chose. Damn it, how can we go out and look for elephants when there’s an elephant in the way?

This is a regular happening here and there’s a routine for dealing with it: the guests stay on the deck while the elephant does exactly what he feels like. When he’s ready to go, he goes: only then can we get on with the day.

Sometime elephants walk through the lobby as if collecting the keys to their chalets and we can all make jokes about the elephant in the room. Sometimes they come in force. But here was a lone bull looking for fallen fruit as if he had all the time in the world.

It’s a rather fine tradition that’s grown up here: a tradition that is perfectly understood by both sides. The elephants know they won’t be bothered: this sprawling lodge is just one more bit of the savannah they call home. The elephants stroll in without trepidation or aggression.

And the humans know that by not bothering the elephants a state of mutual trust can be maintained. So we waited on the convenience of an elephant, and as we did so we shared a queer vision of what human life could be like if we should ever choose to end our millennia-long war against nature.

• I was travelling with Wildlife Worldwide. More trips https://wildlifeworldwide.cmail20.com/t/y-e-xididdd-thukydkiuh-r/