OnTap Magazine

M aun is known by its residents as ‘Dusty Donkey Town’, and on the day that Okavango Craft Brewery had its unofficial (re)launch party, it quickly became evident why. I’m not quite sure why I felt it necessary or smart to walk the five kilometres from my hotel to the brewery on a cloudless 30-degree day. After a while, the scenery got a bit samey – sand-edged streets, roadside kiosks offering hot food, shoe cleaning services, fresh produce or any combination of the three, and of course donkeys vying for any scrap of shade they could find. I found none, and the Kingfisher IPA I downed when I finally arrived at the brewery, slightly sunburnt and sweaty, was one of the most refreshing beers I’ve ever had the pleasure of drinking. Okavango Craft Brewery officially launched in February 2020, when the first batches of beer went through their new, shiny system. It was remarkably unfortunate timing. Much like South Africa, Botswana’s lengthy Covid lockdown was peppered with trading restrictions and intermittent alcohol bans. For two years, the brand-new brewpub operated sometimes as a liquor store – open only for off-sales – occasionally as a brewpub, and sometimes not at all. But that was all in the past on the sunny winter’s day when I finally made it to Maun. The brewery had already managed to garner quite a following among the locals, who poured through the gates to listen to live music and quench their thirst with Okavango’s beers, all named for features of the nearby Delta. The biggest seller is the Delta Lager; the most-awarded is Panhandle Pale Ale, but my personal favourite is the crisp and deeply refreshing Kingfisher, a 4.5% session IPA which, like all of Okavango’s beers, uses malted millet alongside malted barley. Indeed, millet is the reason for Okavango Craft Brewery’s existence. But to get that story I would have to travel 500km up into the Panhandle of the Okavango Delta. It’s an all-day trip from Maun to Seronga. You can travel the whole way on rutted roads, but we were lucky enough to be able to take the scenic route. This started out on a long-straight road, a little rough around the edges – and often in the middle – with potholes you could lose a small car in. But there were no small cars to be seen along this route – just well- worn bakkies and a series of increasingly well-equipped 4x4s topped with tents and decorated with gas cylinders or various tools. But were they also carrying a keg of Kingfisher in its own custom- made cooler bag? I suspect this is where we had them beat. The four-hour drive toSepupa included an essential gas station pitstop, not just to get gas and take care of the needs that a deeply ridged road will create, but also to buy giant slabs of ice to keep our keg cold. At Sepupa we transferred the keg (and some other, less important belongings and provisions) to a manned motorboat to continue our journey along the Panhandle itself. For 90 minutes we zipped along the water, flanked by papyrus and reeds, with more than a dozen bird species passing overhead. I was glad we’d stashed a few cold cans of Delta Lager to enjoy along the journey. Our aquatic journey at an end, we carefully carried our keg to the waiting bakkie, and eventually, as we pulled off the road onto a patch of grass dotted with ponds, to a mokoro to cross the final 100 metres to our destination. As we were poled across the shallow water, the distinctive grunting of hippos carried on the wind and for the first time I spotted them just a couple of hundred metres away. INTO THE DELTA Vying for any scrap of shade Finally tapping the well travelled keg of Kingfisher Donkeys in the dust Okavango's session IPA The long and bumpy road to the north The kiosks of Maun Hippo in the Panhandle Elephant footprint on a north Botswana farm Travelling along the Panhandle the right way 22 | Autumn 2023 | ontapmag.co.za