Returning home to the Kalahari
There is something about stepping into the Kalahari that instantly changes your breathing. The air feels crisp, clean, and quiet. You sink your feet into that famous deep red sand, look out at the endless horizon, and suddenly all the noise in your head turns off.
We recently got back from Tswalu, and looking around at my family, it hit me that this was our fourth time here.
Over the years, this extraordinary place has quietly anchored almost every major chapter of our lives. My husband and I first came here on our honeymoon, falling in love with the sheer wildness of the landscape. A few years later, we brought my mom so she could experience the magic for herself. Then came our babymoon, a time of total quiet and reflection while holding the promise of new life.
And now, returning with our six-year-old son, the circle felt complete.
Seeing Tswalu through a child’s eyes is pure magic. Watching him run barefoot through the dirt, listen to the birdsong, and take in the wild expanse reminded me of how grounded kids naturally are when you get them away from screens. With our own private guide and tracker, there was zero rush. We had the time and freedom just to be present.
The encounters we shared as a family were unforgettable. One morning, an African wild dog padded right up past our safari vehicle, its mottled coat catching the golden light as it sniffed through the low brush just feet away from us. Another afternoon, we watched a massive white rhino quietly grazing along the edge of a waterhole, taking slow sips from the cool water under the shade of an old tree.
Later, my husband leaned over the side of the vehicle with his camera to capture a huge rhino strolling through the scrub, while our son stood right beside him in his little hoodie, watching in complete fascination. Our guide even took the time to teach our boy how to hold a bow and arrow out in the open sand. Seeing the pride on his face when he loosed an arrow across the red dirt and hit the target was a moment I will keep forever.
We also caught rare glimpses of quiet beauty, like standing close to a regal sable antelope, its swept-back horns framed against the pale dry grasses of the bush. Every evening, we gathered to taste the most incredible, locally inspired food, celebrating the unique flavours of the region under a blanket of stars.
The conservation work happening here is astounding, but what really makes Tswalu feel like home is the people. The team’s warmth goes far beyond standard hospitality, and feels much more like staying with family. When the staff starts to sing together, their rich, beautiful harmonies echoing across the land, it gives me chills every single time. It is the soul of the Kalahari, lingering in your heart long after you pack your bags.
They say Tswalu means a new beginning in Setswana. For us, it is the place we go to reset our minds, reconnect as a family, and leave a little piece of our hearts until the next time we come home.
Images: Keith Ladzinski
