Up early the next day, we travel to Matusadona National Park. Bordering Lake Kariba, this famous 540 square mile reserve is home to many of the creatures that tourists cross continents to see, including waterbuck, cheetah and rare black rhino. Guide Patrick, waiting in a high-bodied safari Jeep, tells us that when the land was flooded to create the lake in the 1950s, hundreds of animals were left marooned on small islands. But then an enterprising employee of the Rhodesian parks and wildlife department, Rupert Fothergill, launched Operation Noah. “It was a rescue operation lasting five years, and more than 6,000 animals were saved and relocated – many of them right here at Matusadona”, Patrick tells us. All that morning we bump over dusty tracks, spotting marabou storks – “undertaker birds”, with their mourner’s cloak of feathers, and skinny white legs – as well as waterbuck and Nile crocodiles, whose sneering jaws reveal mouthfuls of gleaming teeth. Several times along the way, Patrick stops to point out lion prints, large as a child’s hand, that he says are fresh from the day before. He’s full of fascinating observations like this – also revealing that the mopane trees produce extra tannin when elephants are around, in order to make their leaves unpalatable Then, as Patrick talks, a large bull elephant breaks out of the undergrowth ahead of us. He is so close that I can see every tiny leathery wrinkle of hide surrounding his small irate eyes. He stands for a moment, staring at us, his trunk and magnificent curved tusks angrily raised. It’s a tense moment, and we are all relieved when he finally disappears into the woods with a last irritated shake of his immense, African-map-shaped ears. The following day, a small plane buzzes us back to Victoria Falls, where we take a bus and then a boat, crossing several borders en route, to reach Kasane. This remote village earned lasting fame as the venue where Richard Burton and Liz Taylor were secretly married – for a second time – in 1975. Our destination is Cascade Lodge on the island of Impalila – surrounded by the Zambezi and Chobe rivers, and only accessible by boat or light aircraft. We wait in a long line to be stamped out of Botswana, then climb back in the motorboat to be whisked – through blind alleys of papyrus, where yellow bellied weaver birds cling to their puffball nests – to Impalila Island’s main dock, where we’re stamped into Namibia. Gangplanks lead us across water channels fringed with reeds to the main lodge, where staff welcome us with song, and then take us to our vast suites. Truly a sight to behold, these have wooden decks with rocking chairs (ideal for those sunset cocktails), as well as plunge pools overlooking the fast-flowing Zambezi River. After croissants and strong coffee on the terrace next morning, we set out from Cascade on a full-day Jeep safari to explore Chobe National Park – home to more than a quarter of Africa’s elephant population. For hours we thunder up and down the winding dirt tracks, peering into the dense mopane forest, hoping to spot wildlife. By the time we break for tea and treats, we’ve seen herds of impala, as well as huge martial eagles and more crocodiles – but still no sign of the Big Five. Unable to hide our disappointment, we clamber back into the high seats of our Jeep, the heat now so intense that our hands are slippery with sweat. Then, amidst a thicket of trees, we see a long, spotted neck – and suddenly there are giraffes everywhere. Tall as houses, they balance stiffly on their improbably long legs as they munch leaves or gallop skittishly ahead of us across the savannah. Next there is a dazzle of black and white and we’re among a herd of zebra. These beautiful beasts kick their hind legs as they gallop toward a large warthog, whose moustache-like tusks and sardonic expression remind me of Salvador Dali. And then, finally, we happen upon a herd of African elephants with babies in tow. It is magical. “Africa is like that”, our guide says quietly. “There is nothing… and then there is everything.” We fly back to Victoria Falls the following day. After buzzing back and forth across “The Smoke that Thunders”, we are finally getting a close-up view of the natural phenomenon that was named by Scottish explorer David Livingstone in honour of his queen. Stalls hiring out oilskins at the entrance are a warning of the soaking ahead. For an hour we climb slippery steps and cross narrow bridges through dazzling rainbows of spray, admiring breathtaking views of this immense cascade, which is twice the height of Niagara Falls. By the end we are indeed drenched, but very happy to have enjoyed such a spectacular end to a truly fabulous cruise.