Uncovering The Forager’s Path

To sip Okavango Gin is to taste a place untouched by hurry.

Every bottle of Okavango Gin begins in the stillness of the Delta; among the rustle of dry grasses, and in the early light of a morning spent walking, eyes to the ground, heart in the moment.

This is the forager’s path—a quiet practice shaped by tradition, intuition, and deep respect for the land.

Before it is gin, it is a conversation between people whose hands reach for the plants that will form the heart of our product. To forage here is to listen, and to notice when the Mopane leaves are at their most fragrant. To forage here, is to feel the weight of a ripe marula in the palm, or to recognise where Devil’s Claw curls beneath the sand, and when it should be left to grow a little longer. The rhythm of this work follows the flood: seasonal, subtle, and sacred.

Our foraging team are stewards, and carriers of land-based knowledge, much of it passed down by elders who’ve walked these trails long before. These are our kin, and foraging is a ritual. A reminder that we are not above nature, but part of it.

Everything is hand-harvested, and nothing is taken in excess. We don’t use machetes, or machines; just human hands and a shared understanding: the land provides, but only if we listen, and only if we give back. In a world that often celebrates speed and scale, this slow, attentive way might seem old-fashioned. Here, it’s the only way. 

Marula fruit, golden and soft-skinned, is gathered beneath trees where elephants have passed through. We take what they leave behind—never competing, never interfering. We harvest in spirals, never stripping a tree, always leaving enough for the land to recover.

Each year, the Delta gives in its own way. Some seasons yield more citrus notes, others deeper earthy tones. Our gin changes, gently, as the landscape does. It is never fixed, and certainly never forced. True sustainability doesn’t mean keeping things the same. It means staying in step with change. Our foragers know this. They read the Delta like a poem, or like a prayer, and they know which trails flood early, which plants flourish in the wake of water, which blooms mark the time to begin. 

Foraging in the Okavango is a kind of remembering. Remembering that food and medicine once came from the land, and that scent and flavour carry stories. 

So, when you sip our gin, you are tasting the patience of people who have learned to wait for the right moment; and this is what makes Okavango Gin truly different. Our gin charts a path through wildness, born from a community of hands and hearts attuned to nature’s pace, and a spirit shaped by people who know the Delta as a living presence.

We do not own this land. We do not claim its bounty as ours. We are guests, always, and like all good guests, we tread lightly, we give thanks, and we leave as little trace as we can. That’s why every part of our process is small-scale, circular, and considered. From foraging to distilling, we aim for quality, and for harmony. The forager’s path isn’t easy; it takes time, and it takes trust. It takes letting go of the need to dominate and returning instead to the quiet miracle of collaboration — with place, with plant, with pattern.

It begins again each morning, in the hush before heat, with a woven basket and a familiar trail. It ends, months later, in a glass held to the light. The scent of wild citrus. A whisper of Mopane. A base note of something ancient and earthy. A drink that carries the memory of footsteps through wetland and woodland.

Take a sip. Let it linger.