Remote family on life in the outback: '900km round-trip for nappies'
Living on a sprawling 86,000-acre property in Fort Gre — one of the most remote corners of New South Wales — Bec, her husband Reece, and their two young kids are hundreds of kilometres from the nearest cafe or day spa. Instead, about five hours north of Broken Hill, their Mother's Day tradition unfolds on a far grander scale. The family unfurls an aerial map of their outback station, chooses a patch of land they've never visited before, and sets off to explore.
It's not just a celebration — it's an adventure, carved out in red earth and endless sky, and stitched deeply into the fabric of their family life.
"We often name the locations, whether it's Mother's Day swamp, or Mother's Day sand dune or something, just to experience a new place as a family and make it a special occasion," Bec told Yahoo News Australia. "It's really cool, actually. It's very special."
Bec and her partner Reece, both ecologists, moved to Fort Grey, a region in Tibooburra, to carry out important conservation work eight years ago. There, she focuses on ecosystem restoration and reintroduction ecology through her work on the Wild Deserts project.
She has, so far, reintroduced seven vulnerable native mammal species back into their natural habitat, the Sturt National Park, after they were driven out — and almost to extinction — thanks to notorious invasive species like cats and foxes.
After almost a decade living as one of NSW's most remote families, Bec's well accustomed to life in absolute isolation, but she said it's not without its challenges. One of the biggest hurdles Bec faces is the mental load that comes with having to plan ahead for everything. Everyday tasks, even simple ones like feeding the family, require much more logistical effort.
"If I run out of something critical, like baby nappies, I've got a 900 kilometre round trip to get those," she said. "So there's a lot more planning, which for us is a challenge across everything we do, as well as parenting, our work as well."
That means constantly thinking ahead, having back-up supplies, and being prepared for things like plumbing failures or sudden shortages. While her family has modern comforts like power, internet and running water, it's the isolation — and the pressure to always be ready — that makes remote life uniquely demanding.
On the upside, Bec said life in the outback has created a special kind of closeness within her family. "A lot of people would think that this is a really hard way to bring up kids," she said.
"But I think there are often a lot of opportunities that aren't noticed, being a mum out in the bush, particularly the ability to have that really strong, deep connection with your family. That's one of the reasons I love doing it the way that we've done it."
Fellow regional mother Phoebe White, who lives just outside the tiny NSW town of Scone — about two hours northwest of Newcastle — echoes Bec's sentiment about the unique realities of bush life. A proud seventh-generation farmer, Phoebe inherited Mount Woolooma in 2017, and while she says regional living has "absolutely" enriched her family's life, she also knows it comes with added demands.
"There's an innate understanding when you're in a rural community that things aren't as easy," she told Yahoo. "You can't just pick up the phone and call someone to fix something, you've got to learn to do it yourself, or plan ahead."
While Phoebe describes Scone — dubbed the "horse capital of Australia" — as having a "fantastic" sense of community, she also acknowledges how vital that network becomes when formal supports are lacking. That local connection, particularly with other mothers, has helped her not only navigate parenting but find joy in it.
Having previously called Sydney, London and Miami home, Phoebe says there's nothing quite like the bond shared between bush mums. "Whether or not they're your blood family, they become family by nature, because you're all so supportive of one another," she said.
Her experience highlights a common thread among many regional mothers. While the landscape can offer beauty, freedom and deep community ties, the need for strong, accessible support — both emotional and practical — is just as important.
It's something former TV journalist turned farmer Stephanie Trethewey is fiercely passionate about. In 2019, she left behind her Melbourne media career and moved to a remote Tasmanian farm for love — a move that came with life-changing challenges.
"I didn't realise that when I married a farmer, that ultimately what I married was the land," she said.
Swapping a bustling city life with endless resources and a strong support network for an isolated property, Stephanie soon found herself alone with a newborn while her husband worked seven days a week. The nature of farming, much like parenting, is relentless, she said.
Without access to a mother's group or any friends or family nearby, her mental health began to spiral. "You hear people say it takes a village to raise a child, and I just thought, where the hell is mine?" Stephanie recalled.
That moment of raw frustration sparked something bigger — the birth of Motherland, a grassroots charity now helping women across the country. Through a suite of support services aimed at building resilience and improving mental health outcomes for rural mums, Motherland launched Australia's first online mothers' group specifically for the bush, creating a virtual village for those who have none nearby.
According to a national survey, 90 per cent of rural mothers believe the postnatal support available to them is inadequate. More than 70 per cent gave birth in a hospital over an hour away from home, and 80 per cent have experienced postnatal depression or anxiety. Yet fewer than half have sought professional help, citing stigma, shame or simply no access to services.
Motherland is working to close that gap. What started as a simple podcast in December, 2019 now boasts over 1.1 million downloads. "We're now a national charity where the podcast is just one small piece of what we do," Stephanie said.
Her mission has since helped Motherland expand out of Tasmania and into other states, including Queensland, where it's now backed by a $1 million government grant to extend support to rural mums doing it tough. "Rural mums are the linchpin," Stephanie said. "They are the glue holding these households together, as mums usually are in general.
"That's why I'm so passionate about supporting them, advocating for them, and raising awareness. That's why I do what I do."
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Wall Street Journal
9 hours ago
- Wall Street Journal
The Vanishing Bear That Still Draws a Crowd to Canada
GREAT BEAR RAINFOREST, British Columbia—Every year, nature lovers from around the world come to see a ghostly creature that prowls the cloud-shrouded forests of the islands off Canada's Pacific Coast. The so-called spirit bears are black bears with a rare genetic mutation that gives them a creamy white coat. The creatures, unique to British Columbia, appear on posters and souvenirs throughout the province.
Washington Post
5 days ago
- Washington Post
In beloved national parks, summer crowds throng despite budget cuts
We visited four of the country's 'crown jewels' and found deep concern for the park system's future among Americans of all political persuasions. Weeks into summer, millions of tourists are again streaming by car, camper, boat and hiking boot to America's national parks. The 63 sites, spanning deserts and peaks, swamps and beaches, are among the most visited and most revered spots on the continent, postcard-ready emblems of a vast country proud of its public lands and awe-igniting scenery. But the summer of 2025 is unlike any before. The National Park Service, like other federal agencies, has been hit hard by President Donald Trump's government reorganization. Firings, early retirements and job freezes have diminished the long-underfunded system's permanent employees by nearly a quarter, according to the National Parks Conservation Association. As of July, the advocacy group tallied, just over half of the target number of seasonal workers had been hired to help manage the crowds. Ominous signs of the impact surfaced this spring. Some visitor centers and campgrounds were temporarily closed because of staffing shortages, as was Arches National Park's famed Fiery Furnace trail in Utah; ranger-led tours and programs in other parks were curtailed. The superintendent resigned at Crater Lake National Park in Oregon, citing frustration with the cuts and what he called the agency's 'dismantlement.' Park employees warned of long-term consequences, including hamstrung search-and-rescue operations and the demise of behind-the-scenes scientific research. Story continues below advertisement Interior Secretary Doug Burgum, who oversees the agency, has said he is focused on reducing bureaucracy — cutting workers who labor at desks, not on the ground. He ordered all sites to remain 'open and accessible' and promised they would have the staffing to ensure visitors 'enjoy our nation's most treasured places.' 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Cincinnati Louisville Kentucky Mammoth Cave Nashville Tenn. 100 miles And that plunk! of moisture drip-dropping from overhead? A 'cave kiss,' Ranger Hillary tells my group when we reach a part of this underground world where stalactites glisten. This is the essence of the Mammoth Cave National Park experience: novelty and wonder from the natural environment fused with history and storytelling from a corps of enthusiastic rangers. Unlike other places where visitors are free to roam, the only way to explore is through a ticketed tour, nearly all ranger-led. In April, Burgum came to Mammoth Cave to tout his commitment to maintaining all national parks despite the budget cuts. 'America's best idea was the national park system … beloved by everyone,' he said while on a tour. 'We know we have to take care of the parks.' The secretary's words drew skepticism from employees systemwide, including here. Several were eager to talk this month, though on the condition of anonymity because of fears of reprisal. 'The pretty face of the NPS' — meaning upbeat staff, tidy amenities, well-tended trails — mask low morale, frozen pay and frustrations over having to 'do less with less,' a second-year ranger told me. Mammoth Cave regained at least some of the positions initially cut. Yet with the year's late start for the hiring of seasonal workers, tour capacity has remained lower. The 2,300 daily ticket spots could be expanded by 400 to 500 more with a full workforce, according to another ranger. Laurie Foster of Houston suspected as much when she found most tours had sold out in advance. 'I'm sure they didn't have enough guides to go around,' said Foster, 38, who runs a management consulting business with her husband. They were traveling the country, park after park, in an RV with their three young boys, and she'd had a tough time getting tickets. She ultimately had to settle for a self-guided tour, the only option left for a party their size. Mammoth Cave was the family's 12th national park this year, and it was hard to tell who was the most excited to descend hundreds of feet into the earth. Benjamin Foster, 45 and a self-described political moderate, demurred on sharing his stronger opinions on the administration's funding cuts but — with his sons in mind — stressed the 'absolutely imperative' need for the parks to receive more money. Parks Fact: The National Park Service oversees 85 million acres that encompass national parks, battlefields, historical parks, lakeshores, monuments, recreation areas and more. 'When I think about how much technology is involved in their life, how much AI is going to be a part of what we do, what's really going to be unique about the future is the experience that you have in the real world,' he said. 'To be able to come and see this and really feel it, breathe it, touch it is really pretty special.' Mammoth Cave boasts superlatives that other parks can only dream of: world's longest known cave system, UNESCO World Heritage site. In its otherworldly recesses, parents rejoice over the lack of WiFi, which makes children focus on what's around them. Stephen Spencer, 54, who works in environmental waste management, has been coming to Mammoth Cave since he was a kid in Kentucky. I met him on the way to the Historic Entrance — the main access point used by Indigenous Americans seeking shelter millennia ago and, much later, by explorers and saltpeter miners. 'This is where our parents took us, and where we learned a lot,' Spencer said as he chased after a 2-year-old grandson. 'I'd hate to see that die.' — Kim Bellware Glacier, Montana 3,208,755 visitors in 2024 Technically it was summer, but Glacier seemed to still be exiting winter. 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'There will be delayed response to emergency events,' Gary Moses, a former ranger, told me. 'I wouldn't say if. I would say when.' Parks Fact: In 2024, nearly 332 million people visited the national parks — an all-time high, up by more than 24 million people from a decade earlier. Basic services appeared to be running smoothly as the park's busiest period neared. Bathrooms were open and clean, trails were busy but tidy, and the park's distinctive red buses were only occasionally slowed by traffic backups. Differences were more evident between the lines: Park calendars showed that only about two-thirds the number of ranger-led tours were on the schedule compared with the same day the year before. Their concerns about changes under the Trump administration drew science teacher Heather Holt and her husband from Jupiter, Florida. The couple had flown to Utah and already road-tripped to Capitol Reef, Arches, Canyonlands and Yellowstone national parks, starting hikes before dawn to beat the heat and hordes of tourists. They then continued north, almost to the Canadian border, to reach this region known as the Crown of the Continent. And now they were watching the sun rise — just past 5:30 a.m. — over glassy Lake McDonald. Story continues below advertisement Advertisement 'We decided we better come see the national parks before some lunatic destroys them,' the 55-year-old Holt said, a dig aimed specifically at the president. That same morning found Josh Bekley and Alec Chin fueling up with coffee at the century-old Lake McDonald Lodge. The pair, from Hartford, Connecticut, were on the second day of their 'big hike trip' in the West. Day one had featured a trek to the glacier-fed Avalanche Lake. 'Unbelievable,' described Bekley, 24, a software engineer and first-time visitor. They'd been a bit frustrated, though, by the lack of rangers or guides to answer questions at some of the spots they hit. 'Some people kind of complain that, like, tax dollars go here and here and here,' said Chin, 25. 'But this is one of those things where it's like, I would gladly pay into it.' Up at Logan Pass, I was admiring fields of yellow glacier lilies when I met Janet and Mike Dihmes, a couple in their late 60s from Frederick, Maryland. Both are 'Trumpers,' said Mike, a former safety director, and have faith the president loves the country. Yet they sounded torn over the administration's budget targets, bringing up government waste even as they acknowledged they didn't want the national parks to suffer cuts. 'We love the parks,' stressed Janet, a retired bookkeeper. It's just that the country needs to 'pare down,' she said. 'We spend way too much on stupid stuff.' They were visiting Glacier for the second year in a row, wildfires having interrupted their 2024 adventure. Around them, visitors hooded up given the chilly gusts smiled for selfies. A bold marmot skittered around their feet. 'This is a place people come back to,' Mike said. — Karin Brulliard Acadia, Maine 3,961,661 visitors in 2024 People sometimes speak about their happy place, where their soul is at peace or their senses come alive. For retired carpenter Jeffrey Wellman, Acadia is that place — and has been since 'I had my first diaper on' 70 years ago. 'It's not just one thing, it's the whole thing,' explained Wellman, who grew up in Maine but now lives in Marlborough, Massachusetts. 'We get the ocean, we get the forests, we get the inland beaches. It's just a paradise.' Map of Acadia National Park in Maine. Canada MAINE Vt. Portland Acadia National Park N.H. Boston Atlantic Ocean 100 miles Wellman, for one, thinks he's found a sliver of silver lining to the national parks' funding cuts. Word of those budget woes have encouraged visitors here to 'have more respect for the park,' he said. 'It used to be that people would leave all their trash around, but I'm noticing a lot more people are taking all their waste away.' But as I drove and hiked around Acadia — which for 25 years has also been my happy place — I found that other tourists and locals couldn't shake their concerns about the future. Alyssa Goodstein, communications director for the Illinois AFL-CIO in Chicago, had just completed her first hikes on her first visit when I met her in a parking lot that provides access to Beech Mountain via several trails. The funding cuts were 'the impetus' for her trip, said Goodstein, 37, a 'Women in Construction' ball cap atop her head. 'I'm really afraid about what's happening to our national parks.' Part of the allure of Acadia, which occupies about half of Mount Desert Island, traces to its special history in this coastal region of Maine known as Downeast. In the early 20th century, John Rockefeller Jr. gave thousands of acres and financed and played a key role in the construction of the park's iconic carriage roads and stone bridges. And the Friends of Acadia, an independent nonprofit, has long supported the park as its official philanthropic partner. (Full disclosure: My husband and I have been donors.) Eric Stiles, the group's president and chief executive, reminded me that Acadia's carriage roads were beset by real neglect that peaked in the '70s and '80s. Restoration took the ensuing decades, and he's worried about what happens in the park during this Trump administration. Acadia 'takes continual care and feeding,' Stiles said, adding that should the current cuts hold and the projected cuts happen, what visitors see and experience would be highly impacted — and visible — in five to 10 years. Story continues below advertisement Advertisement 'We need the hiring freeze to be lifted,' he said. 'That is absolutely essential.' His worries extend to the small, picturesque towns that share the island with the park. He noted that Acadia brings in $685 million annually for the local economy. 'Downeast Maine rises or falls with Acadia,' he said. 'So far, it's been rising, and there's too much at stake to not allow the park to operate with certainty.' On a carriage road not far from the Jordan Pond House — a tourist favorite for its popovers, expansive lawn and scenic view — I met Brad Jordan on a bike ride with friends. He's no relation to the clan for which the pond was named, but he's still deeply tied to the park through his business, Maine State Kayak & E-Bike. It has two locations in the immediate area that depend on vacationers to Acadia. When the administration earlier this year was axing thousands of federal workers, including park rangers, and freezing open positions, some of Jordan's customers delayed committing to their summer plans. That made his own staffing decisions more difficult. 'People were definitely holding off from reserving in advance,' he said. Parks Fact: The National Park Service's fiscal 2025 budget totals $3.3 billion. The White House has proposed cutting that by more than $1 billion for the next fiscal year, which starts in October. While his numbers are now slightly ahead of last year's, he still has longer-term misgivings. 'Anytime you're cutting federal funds to a national park,' he said, 'it's detrimental in terms of safety.' At the Beech Mountain trailhead, first-time visitor Goodstein offered an even stronger defense. 'Our national parks are the lungs of our country,' she said. 'They represent some of the best places.' — Karen Miller Pensiero Zion, Utah 4,946,592 visitors in 2024 With its jagged red-rock mountains, immense vistas and steep canyons, Zion is a place that reminds you just how vast the American West remains. It's among the country's busiest national parks, famous both for the Narrows, a slot canyon carved by the Virgin River, and Angel's Landing, an ascent so perilous that climbers grasp chain ropes along the way and so popular that they have to win a lottery space to attempt it. Map of Zion National Park in Utah. Nev. Salt Lake City Zion National Park Utah Las Vegas Ariz. Calif. 100 miles I was a first-time guest and met others like me, including a Kentucky couple celebrating their 35th anniversary as bighorn sheep bleated below them. But many were repeat visitors, and they were unsure what they'd find given the actions out of Washington — which initially had Zion losing a dozen rangers and 100 seasonal employees. 'I was a little bit concerned: Was there going to be enough services, enough people around to help?' said 54-year-old Katherine Hedrick of Wilmington, North Carolina, a former Zion tour guide, who was on a trip with longtime friends. 'What's going to happen when people get lost or fall?' Parks Fact: The National Park Service estimates its backlog of deferred maintenance was $22.9 billion at the end of fiscal 2024. Moments later, I noticed a young woman sitting on the ground, her head bloodied. Someone said she'd been bitten by a squirrel. Two rangers and an EMS worker arrived on the scene and soon wheeled her out on a rugged stretcher — underscoring the need for trained staffers in an often harsh environment. I later watched a ranger show several Mennonite hikers a rare snail, the wet rock physa, as it crawled amid ferns on a canyon wall. Zion is the only place in the world that the tiny creature is found. 'I worry about the things you can't see,' said Andrew Halloran, 43, a product manager from Littleton, Massachusetts, who was traveling with his wife, Jenn, and two kids, Ella, 8, and Brayden, 9. Fourth-graders like Brayden get free entrance to national parks under the government's Every Kid Outdoors program, among the reasons for the family's first vacation to Zion. Folks like Aaron Rex, 51, an electrical engineer from Columbus, Ohio, didn't detect signs of the budget cuts — which, as a Trump voter, he supported. Bathrooms at the visitors center and other prime spots were open, Rex noted, and park staff appeared to be clearing trash from trails. But other visitors told me they noticed empty entrance booths, lax parking enforcement and shuttered bathrooms replaced in places by port-a-potties near the Narrows trailhead. I started to wonder about staffing after I saw a massive cottonwood tree limb crash into the lodge parking lot. Nobody was injured, but nobody rushed to remove it either. Then one of the packed shuttle buses I rode around the park was delayed entry as we waited for a ranger to open a gate. Most rangers, and even park volunteers, said they were barred from discussing the federal funding situation, but a few were willing to talk. A still-new ranger pointed to delays in various repairs and planned improvements within Zion. The popular Weeping Rock trail, for instance, was still shuttered because of a rockslide. Morale also has been damaged, according to Ray Sweigert, 77, a retired history teacher and longtime volunteer who helps track the critically endangered California condors that make their home in Zion. He relishes educating visitors about the birds and this summer was watching a pair that he hoped would soon mate. In our conversation, with black-streaked canyon walls as the backdrop, Sweigert offered his personal thoughts about the park's challenges. He had only admiration for its rangers and other workers, calling them 'underpaid, underappreciated, understaffed.' 'They certainly deserve far more support than they get,' he said. — Molly Hennessy-Fiske Story continues below advertisement Advertisement
Travel Weekly
7 days ago
- Travel Weekly
'Rivers of Life' itinerary breaks down borders for a rewarding safari experience
Africa's wildlife isn't bound by borders, and in the Kavango Zambezi Transfrontier Conservation Area (KAZA), neither are travelers. Five countries recently looked at their shared borders and asked a simple question: What if we took down the fences? The answer to that question is the world's largest conservation area. Angola, Botswana, Namibia, Zambia and Zimbabwe created a seamless 200,000-square-mile ecosystem where elephants migrate freely across international borders and safari-goers can follow the same herds across three countries without ever feeling like they've left one destination for another. This cross-border vision is now captured by KAZA's new "Rivers of Life" tourism brand, a coordinated effort launched by all five partner nations to present this vast wilderness as a single adventure for travelers looking for more than just a classic game drive. Nyambe Nyambe, executive director of the KAZA Secretariat, said that this isn't just another game park with artificial boundaries but a living ecosystem that happens to span five countries. KAZA said the absence of traditional safari crowds makes wildlife encounters in KAZA that much more intimate. Crowd control While Kenya's Masai Mara battles overcrowding and Tanzania's Serengeti sees endless vehicle queues, KAZA said it is offering something that is becoming increasingly rare: authentic wilderness experiences without the crowds. This is especially relevant after the July 21 incident in Kenya's Kogatende area, where video footage showed tourists disembarking from safari vehicles and physically blocking the free migration of wildebeest, a clear example of how overtourism pressure is damaging East Africa's wildlife experiences. The best way to understand KAZA's seamless nature is through an actual cross-border itinerary that showcases how easily travelers move between countries while following wildlife and water. The destination platform Uncover Kavango Zambezi features several sample itineraries that make these experiences easy for travel agents to string together. One such route, an itinerary called Treading the Lesser Known Pathways, starts from Caprivi Mutoya Lodge in Namibia, positioned near southern Africa's largest carmine bee-eater breeding colony. From August to November, up to 4,000 of the bright-red birds create aerial displays that rival East Africa's famous migrations. Between wildlife viewing, guided village tours let visitors interact with local families, meet their children and taste traditional foods during two-to-three-hour walking experiences. The drive of about 180 miles to the Divava Okavango Resort and Spa shows the beauty of KAZA as it follows the river system that connects the entire region. Divava resort's 20 luxurious chalets overlook the Okavango River near Popa Falls, with Mahango National Game Park just 10 minutes away. Boat trips downstream enable travelers to see hippos, crocodiles and incredible birdlife, while sunset cruises upstream to Popa Falls provide perfect endings to days exploring both Namibian and Angolan border waters. Hartebeests, lions and wild dogs From here, the route ventures into Khaudum National Park in northeast Namibia, 384,000 hectares of incredible wilderness that requires serious 4x4 skills. This underrated park offers encounters with tsessebe, roan antelope, red hartebeest and important populations of lions and wild dogs. With virtually no signage and few visitors, Khaudum represents an authentic wilderness challenge where your vehicle might be the only one tracking wildlife across fossil river valleys. The journey's cultural highlight comes at The Living Museum of the Ju/'Hoansi-San, where traditional hunter-gatherer culture continues in authentically reconstructed nomadic villages. Local San communities present their nearly forgotten culture in traditional clothing, demonstrating survival techniques developed over millennia. Crossing into Botswana, Tsodilo Hills is sometimes referred to as the "Louvre of the Desert" with over 4,500 San paintings preserved in a small portion of the Kalahari Desert. These paintings have remained in their original state and record human activity for more than 100,000 years. Current San guides interpret these galleries, sharing stories and traditional knowledge that connects past and present. Nxamaseri Island Lodge provides a distinctly African experience on a private island in the permanent waters of Botswana's Okavango Delta. As one of the Delta's oldest lodges, it showcases the beauty of permanent swamp and embodies the values of the indigenous people. From here, mokoro journeys cross from Botswana into Namibian waters, the only place where visitors can paddle traditional dugout canoes across international borders. The circuit completes by crossing back into Namibia at Mohembo Border-post, continuing to Bwabwata National Park and Kazile Island Lodge. Situated on a private island within the park itself, Kazile is one of only two lodges uniquely positioned inside Bwabwata. Its 13 Meru tents overlook the Kwando River and expansive floodplains, providing direct access to some of Africa's last unfenced wilderness corridors. This route naturally connects two of KAZA's three Unesco World Heritage Sites, the Okavango Delta and Tsodilo Hills, while positioning travelers within easy reach of Victoria Falls. But these aren't isolated attractions; they're bound together by rivers whose annual flood cycles shape not only migration routes but also cultural calendars across hundreds of communities throughout KAZA. KAZA's mokoro safaris enable travelers to paddle traditional dugout canoes across international waters, from Botswana into Namibia, without leaving their boat. Photo Credit: Uncover Kavango Zambezi Each year, seasonal rains in Angola's highlands create floodwaters that take four months to travel through the system, first swelling Namibia's rivers, then creating Botswana's famous delta floods and finally feeding the thunderous Victoria Falls. This annual water cycle transforms the entire landscape, creating different wildlife-viewing opportunities and water-based activities, depending on when visitors arrive. Fams tell the story Recent fam trips for international tour operators have demonstrated KAZA's potential as a unified destination. Amanda England of Ethos Marketing, which handles KAZA's international promotion, highlighted the transformation of tourism marketing in the region: "Previously, marketing focused on individual protected areas like Victoria Falls. These familiarization trips help bridge this gap, equipping international agents to promote the destination as a cohesive experience." As overtourism pressures traditional safari destinations and conscious travelers seek authentic conservation stories, KAZA offers genuine alternatives. Tourism revenue directly funds wildlife corridors, enabling over 130,000 elephants, nearly 75% of Africa's population, to follow ancient migration routes between 36 national parks without human interference. The "Rivers of Life" brand provides a compelling narrative for what could be a complex multicountry experience, proving that when countries cooperate, they create tourism possibilities that none could achieve alone.
