"Wanted - Crocodile Skinner, 5+ years experience, Pula1250 per month".

I decided not to apply for this job advertised in the classified column of the local Maun newspaper. Besides a total lack of crocodile skinning experience, the pay of£100 a month would not cover the rising fuel and food prices that are beginning to cause severe hardship here in Botswana and the rest of Southern Africa.

The town of Maun demarcates the southeastern edge of the Okavango Delta. Like an overweight child with "hand me down" clothes, Maun is bulging at the seams; it's streets, shops and garages struggling to cope with the influx of tourists. Most tourists see Maun from the air, flying in to transfer to small planes that fly them to the luxury lodges (last count 60) in the heart of the delta. Others arrive crammed in overland trucks but an increasing number arrive in their rented or owned 4x4s, like us.

Everyone is either filling up with provisions and about to go in to the various game reserves around the delta like Moremi, Chobe and Nxai Pans (you can't take vehicles in to the delta unless you have a submersible!) or returning from these places with exciting stories of close animal encounters.

A much smaller but increasing number of people are here preparing for a visit to a very special place, the Central Kalahari Game Reserve (CKGR). The second largest park in the world (after Tanzania's Selous) this area of semi desert the size of Switzerland is slap bang in the middle of Botswana, due south of Maun.

Our enthusiasm to get in to this park has been fuelled by a chance encounter with Neil Taylor, an expert on the area. We happen to pitch our tent next to Neil at the Sedia Hotel campsite in Maun. Neil is a British volunteer, researching bird and mammal densities in the park for Birdlife Botswana.

We pick his brains for details of the best places to camp, to view birds and mammals, the best sunset and sunrise spots and the road qualities. We are lucky as the rains have been exceptionally good this year, we should see plenty of wildlife despite the total lack of permanent surface water.

If all goes to plan we are meeting our friends Isaac & Liesel at Rakops, the last re-fuelling stop before the drive to the eastern entrance gate. After that we will have 6 to 8 days in the park, carrying in all our food, water, fuel and firewood requirements. Apart from a few long drop toilets at some campsites there are no facilities for visitors, and if the vehicles breakdown we will need to fix them ourselves. For once the word "remote" is applicable here!

Ironically the biggest problem we are likely to encounter is not the prides of lions that have a bad habit of occupying the campsites in the park, but the vetinerary control point on the road from Maun to Rakops. Due to continuous foot and mouth outbreaks vehicles are being stopped and searched. In normal circumstances you would expect to be told what food is permissible but this is Africa and the rules vary according to who stops you!

In theory chicken, fish and cooked meats are allowed, red meats and dairy products are not. Having experienced these vet fences before in Botswana (we heard of people losing their tins of tuna on the grounds that it said "tuna meat" on the label) we suspect we may be on a noodle diet in the Kalahari!

Our arrival in Maun coincided with the arrival of autumn and winter, all on the same day! The trees are shedding their leaves as the night temperatures have dropped to 4 or 5 C, very cold when under canvas! Cold winds have kept the day temperatures cool.

A high of 28C for 3 days in a row may have UK offices emptying as the aircon struggles to chill people, here the locals have emerged with greatcoats, fleeces, gloves and balaclavas. We are now so acclimatised that we are shivering as well! It is difficult to believe that a mere 4 weeks ago we were with Lesley & Bill in KwaZulu Natal, sweltering in 40C whilst watching wild dogs hunt!

Strangely given the traffic chaos, the poor shops, the mass of humanity and the background noises of dogs, donkeys, cockerels, cattle and the local shebeen nightclub, we actually like Maun. It strikes us as a happy place, a frontier town. An added bonus is that just occasionally, despite all the noise, we hear the cry of a fish eagle or the repetitive deep grunts of a wandering hippo proof that nature is never far away, at least in this corner of Africa.