Jack's Camp is the antidote to a Delta safari, and I like to put it at the start or end of one. After the water and the big game, the pans are silence and space: brown hyena, aardvark and bat-eared fox, a habituated meerkat colony, Bushman walks, and in the dry months quad biking out across the salt to sleep under the stars.
The camp itself is part of the pleasure. Nine green canvas tents are dressed with Persian rugs, brass and mahogany campaign furniture, each with a plunge pool on the deck looking out over the pans. The mess tent holds a natural history museum and library, and everyone eats together at a long 19th-century officer's mess table.
Think carefully about the season. From about November to March the rains turn the pans to grassland and tens of thousands of zebra and wildebeest arrive, with flamingos breeding in March and April. From April to October it is the bleached, empty salt of the photographs. Either way, this is not the place for a big-cat checklist, and people who dislike sociable dinners should know the table is shared.