I went to Botswana with my wife this year. I’ll be real with you. I was a little nervous. I’m queer. I travel a lot. New places always bring a mix of joy and jitters. But you know what? Botswana felt calm, kind, and steady.
First Feelings, Real Talk
Same-sex relations were decriminalized here a few years back. (For a deeper dive into that milestone ruling, Time Magazine captured the change here.) Folks still lean conservative in many places, but I felt safe most days. English is common, which helps. People were polite. Curious sometimes, but gentle.
Need even more context before you commit? Check out OutProud’s in-depth look—their candid, heart-on-sleeve Botswana gay travel review—for extra boots-on-the-ground insight.
I wore a small rainbow pin on my backpack. I kept it there. No one made a scene. A few smiles, a few nods. I’ll take that.
Gaborone: Warm hellos and soft landings
We started in Gaborone. Our guesthouse didn’t blink when I asked for one bed. No side-eye. No “twin beds only.” Simple kindness, and it mattered.
We spent a slow morning at a craft market. I like to look for handmade baskets, and wow—Botswana baskets are gorgeous. The seller told us how his aunt weaves by the river. We chatted about weather and football and food. Not our identities. Sometimes that’s a gift.
Later, we met folks from a local LGBTQ group at a small coffee meet-up—think board games, soft music, and easy laughter. If you hear about LEGABIBO, that’s the community group people mention. If you want another trusted hub for queer support and travel tips, bookmark OutProud.org before you pack your bags. Events are small, low-key, and real. No huge parade floats. More like family.
Nightlife? Mixed. We found a lounge with a blended crowd: couples, coworkers, travelers, a DJ who loved Kwaito. We kept PDA to a low hum. A quick hand squeeze. A head on a shoulder in a dark corner. That felt right for the room.
Maun: Gateway to the wild (and very gay-welcoming)
Maun is the jump-off for safaris. It has a cozy, dusty charm—quiet roads, birds in the trees, and cafés with strong coffee. We ate shakshuka at a place locals love. Simple plate. Big flavor.
Our lodge booked a transfer, so no stress about taxis. In town, we paid cash most times, but cards worked at bigger spots. We grabbed a local SIM—Mascom—and kept WhatsApp on. It helped with drivers and guides.
Safari: Where we felt most free
We stayed at Sable Alley in the Okavango Delta and later at &Beyond Sandibe. Both knew we were a couple. Both put one big bed on the booking. No fuss. Staff used our names and never made weird jokes. I noticed that. You can feel when people are trained to welcome, not just to “deal with” guests.
On the game drives, the guide asked, “Is this your first time in Botswana?” Not “friends or sisters?” I exhaled. And then—elephants. So many elephants. One young bull flapped his ears and stomped, all show, all drama. My wife grabbed my arm. We laughed like kids. It was perfect.
At night, we sat by the fire. Stars crowded the sky—big, bright, and endless. We held hands then. Discreet, but honest. Staff told stories about hyena tracks and old floods. We listened, sipped rooibos, and felt very human.
On days we were separated from good Wi-Fi, our romance lived in cheeky text threads between game drives. If you’re wondering how to craft messages that feel fun, respectful, and just the right amount of spicy, the comprehensive Sexting Handbook can walk you through tone, consent, and creativity so your phone banter keeps the butterflies fluttering even when the lions are roaring outside your tent.
Small note: lodges often run on U.S. dollars, but towns use pula. Bring both. Tip in cash when you can. It lands better.
Safety, customs, and the soft rules
Here’s the thing: public displays of affection can be tricky. We kept it mellow in towns. A smile. A shoulder bump. Save the cuddles for private spaces or the quiet edge of camp.
We had no issues with police, but keep this number: 999 for emergencies. I also saved our lodge manager’s number. Sometimes peace is just a plan in your pocket.
Crossing borders? Many folks go from Kasane to Victoria Falls. Laws shift fast across lines. Zimbabwe and Zambia can be less friendly. Read up, and hold the affection until you’re past immigration. I hate saying that. But I also like coming home in one piece.
What surprised me
- Staff training felt strong. We never had to explain “no twin beds.”
- The community is present, even if it’s small. Think tea, not parade floats.
- Respect runs deep. People might not agree on everything, but they value good manners. That goes a long way.
When to go, and what it feels like
Dry season (June to October) brings big game and crisp nights. You’ll see more animals near water. Green season (roughly November to April) is lush, full of birds, and sometimes cheaper. We went at the tail end of dry. Dust on our boots. Golden light on the delta. I still dream about it.
Little wins that made our trip
- A lodge manager who called us by our shared last name.
- A guide who took our couple photo by the mokoro canoe and said, “Beautiful.” No pause.
- A barista who asked about our rings and then showed us hers. Tiny moment. Huge warmth.
Quick tips for queer travelers
- Email lodges ahead to confirm one bed. Make it clear. Keep the note friendly.
- Limit PDA in towns and at borders. Read the room. Lead with kindness.
- Use WhatsApp. It’s the lifeline for drivers and guides.
- Carry pula in town and some dollars for lodges.
- Pack layers. Nights get cold, even when days feel hot.
- If you want community time, look for small meet-ups or film nights by local groups.
One more piece of travel-adjacent wisdom: queer travelers often lean on discreet online classifieds to set up coffee dates or find LGBTQ-affirming services when they’re back home. If your journey eventually brings you through North Carolina and you’re curious about connecting safely in a smaller town, the listings at OneNightAffair’s Indian Trail backpage provide a curated, anonymity-friendly space where you can browse real-time ads and verify queer-friendly meet-ups without endless swiping or guesswork.
Before locking in a safari operator, I skimmed this OutProud rundown of the best gay travel companies and what actually worked. It saved us time and a few headaches.
Who will love Botswana
Couples who crave quiet, wildlife, and staff who treat you with grace. Folks who don’t need a big gay club every night. If you want nature that fills your lungs and a culture that’s gentle but private, this fits.
If that’s you but you’re craving a lusher, beach-first vibe, bookmark OutProud’s honest take on Costa Rica gay travel—sun, salsa, and a lot of pura vida for a totally different rhythm.
If you need loud rainbow energy, you may feel starved. I get it. I like both modes. Botswana is my slow mode. My hold-hands-under-the-stars mode.
My bottom line
I felt seen here. Not flashed up in lights—more like held in a careful hand. I’ll be back for more elephants, more tea by the fire, and that steady, real welcome. And if you’re queer and curious? Yes. Go. Pack your heart. Pack your sense. You’ll be okay.