Two Generations, One Toyota Hilux, and the Magic of Botswana

Pallav set out on his fourth consecutive annual expedition into Botswana’s wild north. But this time, he brought along his parents. Together, they went on a self-drive adventure from Maun to Magotho and Khwai. 

This is their story.

Botswana is the place I return to every year to recharge. I’ve made wild self-drive camping in the African bush a yearly personal pilgrimage. But this fourth trip was different. This time, I convinced my 72-year-old father and my 70-year-old mother to leave their home in India and join me. 

I wanted to show them what I love before it was too late in their lives to share the raw, unscripted magic of the bush, entirely away from modern lodges, manicured lawns, and concrete walls.

Everything was planned over Zoom calls between them in India and me in Amsterdam. Neither of my parents comes from an athletic or outdoor background, so it took some gentle convincing. They completely surrendered the logistics to me. The very first time I saw them after months apart was at the immigration exit inside Maun International Airport.

From the airport, we headed to the local grocery store in Maun, where all the real planning and action happens. Out there, if you make a mistake with your supplies, it can bite you later because there’s no way to add on what you forgot once you enter the bush. 

After loading up our fully equipped Toyota Hilux Double Cab Bushcamper, we set off into the dust. My primary goal for day one was simple: reach our first campsite well before sunset so my parents wouldn’t have to experience an unfenced, wild camp in the pitch dark for their very first night.

The Daily Rhythm of the Bush

We spent nine nights overall, with six glorious nights spent wild camping split between Magotho Camp and a private concession area in Khwai. Once we arrived, the trip settled into a rhythm.

I’d wake my parents up early – sometimes a little against their wishes – around 5:15 AM. The air out in the open was properly chilly, untouched by urban concrete. But thanks to the vehicle fit-out, making morning coffee was an absolute dream. The gas cooker was permanently mounted right to the fold-out back door – no setting up detachable cylinders on uneven ground. You just opened the door, clicked the burner, and within minutes, hot water was boiling.

No luxury lounge or five-star bar anywhere in the world can beat a folding chair parked beside a Hilux as the African sun drops below the horizon.

I’d pass steaming mugs of coffee and traditional Indian chai we brought from home up to my dad in the roof tent, and to my mom, who preferred sleeping inside the middle seat of the vehicle, which we had converted into a snug bed with the co-driver seat reclined beside her.

Nothing can beat a folding chair parked beside a Hilux. | Photo credits: Pallav Jha

After getting ready, the rooftop tent was packed down, and we’d head out, following the distant morning roars of lions.

Around mid-morning, we’d find a scenic, quiet spot in the open bush, park the Hilux safely, and turn the space into a mobile picnic. During those first few days, I acted as their private safari chef, frying up fresh breakfasts while they sat back, adapting to the wilderness and taking in the morning light. 

After a midday rest back at camp to read or nap during the heat, we’d head back out at 3:00 PM, always ending our afternoon game drives with sunset coffee. No luxury lounge or five-star bar anywhere in the world can beat a folding chair parked beside a Hilux as the African sun drops below the horizon.

Through My Parents’ Eyes

Introducing my parents to wild camping required creative adaptations and absolute trust. My mother isn’t very mobile and was initially anxious about climbing roof ladders in the dark or encountering wildlife. So, we made a deal. I promised her she could sleep comfortably in the vehicle and that I would personally keep guard whenever she needed to step outside.

The hippos grazed peacefully just metres from our Hilux as we finished our dinner.

Seeing them gradually let go of their urban apprehensions was one of the most rewarding parts of the entire journey. Watching my father up in the rooftop tent, sipping his morning chai while looking out over the landscape, and seeing my mother relax into the flow of camp life brought me endless pride.

Sitting beside the campfire. | Photo credits: Pallav Jha

One evening after dark, as we sat by our campfire next to a small puddle left behind by recent flooding, we heard something cross the water. At first, we suspected an elephant, but three massive hippos emerged from the water onto the grassland right beside our camp. 

I pointed them out to my parents, explaining quietly how nocturnal hippo grazing works and reminding them – with a bit of friendly warning – that, as cute as they look, they aren’t creatures you try to pet! The hippos grazed peacefully just metres from our Hilux as we finished our dinner.

Another afternoon in Khwai, two lionesses and four cubs settled onto the dirt track right in front of us. As other game vehicles slowly gathered in a loose semicircle, one of the lionesses decided she wanted space. She stood up and walked right alongside my driver’s side door, so close I could have reached out my window and touched her back. My mother was understandably wide-eyed, but we kept completely calm, silent, and steady. The lioness didn’t give us a single glance as she passed us.

One of the lionesses decided she wanted space.

Frictions, Water, and Bush Decisions

Wild camping isn’t without challenges. Having my parents along meant my threshold for risk was much lower than usual. Experience teaches you to make conservative decisions in the bush, especially when you’re travelling in a single vehicle.

Knowing when to turn around is as crucial a skill in the bush as knowing how to drive.

We had two unavoidable water crossings to reach Khwai village and the North Gate of Moremi. While water crossings always carry a small pulse of adrenaline, keeping the vehicle in low gear and maintaining a steady, confident pace brought us through smoothly without panic.

On a side trip near the Khwai village to gather water lilies with a local friend, we encountered a lesser-used shortcut bridge. I pushed the Hilux onto the structure, but the tyres briefly bogged down at the entrance. My friend stepped out into the shallow water to guide us, but looking at the structure, I made the immediate call to back out and retreat. It wasn’t our vehicle, and pushing unnecessary risks with my parents on board was never part of the plan. Knowing when to turn around is as crucial a skill in the bush as knowing how to drive.

A giraffe casually walking across a sandy dirt road. | Photo credits: Pallav Jha

A Golden Chapter

If someone were to ask me whether I would change anything, the answer would be very little. I’d love to try a Land Cruiser one day, or maybe explore Victoria Falls and Zimbabwe, but I remain deeply in love with the Khwai region. The sheer freedom it offers self-drive travellers – including the rare privilege of self-conducted night drives – is almost impossible to top.

When I look back on this journey, I think of it as a golden chapter in my life. Time never stops for anyone, and our parents aren’t getting younger. Whatever effort and convincing it took over those Zoom calls from Amsterdam to India was worth every single second.

To bring my parents into the heart of Botswana, to navigate the wild safely together, and to share sunrise coffees surrounded by nothing but wilderness is something you cannot measure with money. It’s simply priceless. It’s a chapter of our lives that is now written forever into history, and a memory we will carry forward for the rest of our days.

Southern Africa holds an unmatched kind of freedom for those willing to get behind the wheel and step beyond their comfort zone. While navigating wild routes and remote campsites can feel daunting at first, having a reliable 4×4 and the right team in your corner makes all the difference. 

When you’re ready to write a golden chapter of your own, Drive South Africa is here to help you take the first step into the wild.

Itinerary