Wasting away in a northeastern corner of Namibia lies the forsaken Khaudum Game Reserve. During an eerie winter visit, Gay McCormick found rumours of lions − and that was about it.

The Land Rovers strain in the soft, deep sand, low-range engaged, engines revving high. From the turn-off on the tarred B8 between Rundu and Katima Mulilo, it’s 55 isolated kilometres of sand track and untamed bush to Khaudum, a reserve in the northeastern corner of Namibia, at the start of the Caprivi Strip.

The only access to the little-known reserve, which we had decided to explore as part of a trip through the Caprivi Strip, is by a sand track. Only 4x4s are advised to traverse it, preferably accompanied by another vehicle.

Each kilometre travelled seems to be a kilometre away from my world, from the rest of the world.

We stop for tea. All around us is the quiet of deep bush, large brooding trees with tales to tell – if only they could – and a double track of sand ribbon stretching into the distance.

Travelling in a 1997 Land Rover Defender TDI, my husband, Cliff, my 25-year-old son, Dylan, and myself keep pace with my sister Judes and her husband, William in a 1996 Defender Hardtop. We follow the deep tracks in the dazzling-white, fine sand.

On this hot winter’s day, we welcome the shade a huge mokongwa tree (Ricinodendron rautennii, also called the mongongo nut tree) casts across the tracks.

We see very few birds and there is neither sound nor sign of animals in the bush.

Four hours later two tired Land Rovers pull into the entrance of the Khaudum camp with its few scattered wood-and-thatch buildings.