It is Sunrise on the Mkgadikgadi pans. And we need to, explore the mystical Kubu Island, a place that feels like dreamscape rising from the vast, empty Makgadikgadi pans.
The only way to get here is to drive or fly.
Our days were spent exploring the island during the golden hours, when the light cast an ethereal glow on the ancient baobabs.
In the heat of the day, we took refuge in camp to avoid the blazing sun.
Join us as we take you along exploring this magical place.
As the sun began to set, we embarked on a sunset drive onto the pans. Though the surface looked dry, just beneath it remained damp from recent rains, adding a sense of mystery and wonder to the experience. Out there, with the world stretching endlessly in every direction, we felt truly free to explore.
In the heart of Kubu Island, where the vast salt pans stretch endlessly to the horizon, stand the ancient baobabs—silent giants and the keepers of time. Their twisted limbs and gnarled trunks tell stories of an Africa long past, reaching back through the millennia. These majestic trees have witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, standing as steadfast sentinels as the winds of change sweep across the land.
Generations have come and gone beneath their sprawling branches. They were here before us, and they will remain long after we’ve vanished—roots anchored deep in the earth, drinking from the knowledge of centuries. The baobabs hold secrets within their thick bark, a living archive of nature’s wisdom.
As the world shifts around them, they stand still—keepers of time, enduring through the ages. They remind us of our fleeting place in the grand story of this planet, where they, too, will watch the future unfold as they have watched the past fade into memory.
As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the vastness of the Makgadikgadi Pans, I ease the vehicle onto the salt-crusted earth. The crunch of the tires against the ancient pan sends a shiver of anticipation through me.
Ahead, the endless expanse stretches in every direction, a place where the horizon feels infinite, and the weight of time falls away.
Dust kicks up behind the vehicle, swirling in the air like the echoes of a thousand forgotten journeys.
The pans shimmer under the fading light, reflecting the last rays of the sun. There’s a profound stillness here, a sacred silence broken only by the hum of the engine and the whisper of the wind. This moment, so fragile, so perfect, will never come again. But even as it slips away, it leaves its mark—an indelible memory written in dust and light, forever etched in the heart.
This rocky outcrop, covered with ancient baobabs, appears like an island when surrounded by the vast salt flats of the Makgadikgadi Pans. Millions of years ago, the pans were part of one of the largest inland lakes in Africa. As the water evaporated over time, Kubu was left standing as a remnant of that ancient landscape, giving it the appearance of an island in a sea of salt.
We have passed through this mystical place, and as we sit around the warmth of the campfire, reflecting on the journey,
it's hard to put into words what Kubu Island truly means. Beneath the stars, the silence of the pans stretches out around us.
For photographers, Kubu has delivered a dream—a landscape that feels like another world, a canvas of light, shadows, and textures that change with every hour. We’re grateful to have walked this sacred ground, to have captured its beauty, and to have experienced its magic. As we leave, we carry with us not just photographs, but the story of this island, a story we’re honoured to tell.
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