How Close Can You Get to Wildlife on a Horseback Safari?
- alex582949
- Jul 9
- 2 min read

The horses had already seen the elephant.
To everyone else (apart from our guide) it was still hidden amongst the mopane trees, but a couple of ears pricked forwards and the pace slowed almost imperceptibly. None of our guests has asked them to, they had simply noticed what lay ahead way before the riders had.
This is a scene that plays out surprisingly often in the Okavango Delta, and one of the reasons we're asked the same question time and again.
How close do you actually get to the wildlife on horseback?
Without the sound of an engine, the Delta feels very different. Guests might spend an hour riding through shallow water with nothing but the splash of hooves beneath them before coming across a herd of red lechwe crossing the floodplain. A fish eagle calls overhead, giraffe emerge between the palms or an elephant carries on feeding as the horses pick their way past. There are no guarantees of what they'll see, which is exactly how it should be. Every ride is different.
Many of the horses have spent years living and working in the Delta. They know this landscape, they understand its rhythms and they've learnt when to walk quietly, when to stop, when to give wildlife more space and, occasionally, when it's time to turn around and leave an animal in peace.

Wildlife also tends to react differently to horses than it does to vehicles. Zebra often continue grazing, giraffe may pause to watch for a few moments before wandering away again, and elephants will sometimes barely acknowledge the riders at all. Every encounter is different and always happens on the animals' terms, but approaching as another animal rather than a vehicle often changes the dynamic completely.
One of the loveliest things to watch is what happens to guests awareness as the week goes on. They arrive hoping to see elephants, lions and wild dogs (and of course they do), but somewhere along the way their focus shifts. They start noticing fresh lion tracks in the sand, the smell of rain before the clouds arrives, tiny reed frogs clinging to papyrus stems and the changing light across the floodplains. They stop looking only for wildlife and begin noticing the Delta itself.
No two rides are ever the same. One morning might bring long canters across open plains, while another is spent picking a quiet route between islands or waiting as a breeding herd of elephants disappears into the bush. There are days when the wildlife seems to be around every corner, and others when the greatest privilege is simply spending a few hours in complete silence. It's something that's becoming surprisingly hard to find.
By the end of the safari horse and rider had settled into the same rhythm, each getting to know the other a little better with every ride. It's only then that many people realise just how much they have learnt from their horse and it is not unusual for guests to shed a tear when they kiss that muzzle goodbye.



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