The term 'remote' is overused, especially in the parlance of safaris. A brochure cliche to be disregarded, like assertions for the prevalence of Pel's fishing owl. But after hours of bouncing along a rough bush track, with only mopane trees, antelope and the odd sand river as landmarks, it was difficult not to take it seriously.

We were in the Luangwa Valley, a huge rift in the earth's surface the size of Switzerland, walled by mountain escarpments. The sheer scale of this place demands to be taken seriously. At its centre, the slow, tropical Luangwa River meanders as it has for millennia, cutting sinuous curves into the valley's soft, volcanic muds. Panoramic bends flow past tranquil ox-bow lagoons, lined by sausage trees and shady ebony groves.

Livingstone passed this way in 1866, famously noting that he would try to "make this land better known to men that it may become one of their haunts," and adding "it is impossible to describe its luxuriance". Over a century later it is a little better known but still defies description.

Today the valley is split into four parks, but South Luangwa National Park has long overshadowed the others. It was here that the late Norman Carr, a visionary young game ranger, set up the first tourist camps in the 1950's. Over the next 20 years, the valley established its reputation. "We had the highest density of elephants in the world," Carr had explained to me three years ago, "but commercial poaching was very bad here. It swept through Africa like a bush fire, starting in the early 1970's. The poachers virtually took over. Became very profitable. Law enforcement collapsed, more-or-less."

"Fortunately," he had continued, "we've got on top of that. The status of elephants here is very secure now, and there are three things that we offer which other parks don't: open vehicles, night drives and walking."

Carr had started Zambia's first safari company in 1961, and pioneered Africa's first walking safaris, "to give visitors a real experience of simply walking through the bush - to just see the tracks, smell the air, and feel what it's like, without being encased in a vehicle."

These made 'The Valley', as it is known, famous and walking safaris are still its big attraction. Anyone can wear khaki and drive visitors around, but walking guides have to be good. The valley sets its own standards with two grades - guides only authorised to drive, and those who can also lead walks. All pass strict exams, so the park boasts more than its share of Africa's finest guides.

Like most visitors, I had arrived at Mfuwe airport and spent my first few days close to that central hub. Many of Luangwa's older lodges are there, bearing names to conjure with, like Kapani, Chinzombo, Nkwali and Mfuwe. Unlike most of the valley, which shuts down during the rains, the Mfuwe area has gravel roads which are passable throughout the year. The animals are therefore used to visitors, relaxed and plentiful. In a couple of days I saw several huge herds of buffalo, endless groups of elephant, lion by day and even leopard by night. Few seemed bothered by the vehicles.

In comparison to other famous game parks, South Luangwa has only a trickle of visitors. But those who have lived there for years notice the difference. New lodges have opened, attracted to the Mfuwe area by its dense game and all-weather roads. The older operators wonder if the area will become too busy. They've been spoilt, having grown used to a very quiet park. But if plans to redevelop the large Chichele Lodge materialise in late '99, they may be right.

Fortunately, most also run small bush camps where they specialise in walking, away from the park's centre. Typically these cater for six or seven guests in simple grass-and-thatch chalets - an intimate option that is increasingly popular. As guests become more discerning in their choice of safari, the trend towards these smaller camps in more remote areas is gaining momentum.

Seeking the ultimate in bush experiences, I joined four safari addicts driving to North Luangwa National Park, a reserve which is even more isolated and in which only walking is allowed. At present only two operators visit North Luangwa, bringing a total of about 200 visitors per year into this area about twice the size of Greater London.

We left South Luangwa at dawn. About five hours later, passing a small guard post beside the Luangwa River, we crossed into the edge of the park. Scattered puku sauntered across the wide, sandy river as Felix, the national parks' scout assigned to protect us, hopped aboard our 4WD with his green uniform and wide grin.

The sun rose to its zenith before our straw-and-thatch camp appeared beside the Mwaleshi River. A cold shower beckoned some, whilst I sat back in the shallow river with a long, cold drink. At 38 degrees C in the shade, this was bliss.

During the 1970's and early '80's, the North Park didn't have the fame (or the limited protection) of the South Park. Its wildlife, especially its elephant, suffered badly from poaching. Then in 1986 salvation arrived in the form of controversial American naturalists, Mark and Delia Owens. They had been expelled from Botswana's Central Kalahari Game Reserve for campaigning against the powerful interests that threatened it. Behind them was an international best-selling book, The Cry of the Kalahari, and substantial financial backing. They sought a new wilderness and found North Luangwa National Park - a pristine area with no real roads or development.

With dedication the Owens fought to end the poaching and told their moving story in a second book, Survivor's Song. Controversy finally caught up with them in 1996 when, allegedly, Mark's Rambo-style anti-poaching manoeuvres went too far. They left in a hurry, but had already succeeded. Poaching had largely been defeated, the game was recovering rapidly, and the park's scouts were the most effective in Zambia.

Tea at four, then we set off. Felix went first, rifle loaded. Behind him strode Bryan (our guide) and five eager explorers, though a trio of crowned cranes in the river seemed unimpressed. "I'm not a stickler for single file," said Bryan, so we walked two-abreast across the plain. Impala, puku and some finely-marked zebra watched, bolting as we approached. "Crawshay's zebra. A subspecies of Burchell's plains zebra, endemic to the Luangwa and nearby areas of Malawi." We examined their markings with our binoculars. "Note the lack of shadow stripes," whispered Bryan. Already there was more game than I'd expected.

The hot air was hazy, fudging our view. Late October dust with a distant blue tinge hung heavy in the air. The smoky fragrance hinted at bush-fires: this was the end of the dry season. "Ha, ha, haa-de-daa" broke through the cicada's tropical hum as four Hadeda ibises lurched into flight, perhaps flushed from the water's edge by our column.

In the next hour we added eland and Cookson's wildebeest, another Luangwa Valley endemic, to our sightings, before Felix spotted a lioness guarding a kill on the wide sandy shore across a bend in the river. We edged up to the opposite bank, perhaps 100 metres away. She sprawled on the sand, keeping an eye on the timid audience of vultures over the dead buffalo. Other lions slept nearby. Two spotted hyaena lolled beside the water, a third loped in the background.

Nothing was hurried, until the lioness caught sight, or perhaps smell, of us. She panicked and sprinted for cover to the bank. The vultures siezed their chance, but swiftly scattered again as a hyaena took possession of the carcass. Looking back from the shade of a sausage tree, the lioness's loss was too much. She ran back onto the stage to reclaim the prize, only to retreat again, still fearful of us.

The buffalo belonged to the hyaenas now, though they couldn't command the respect of the vultures. A fourth joined the messy feast. Whoops of delight heralded the arrival of a fifth, which had clearly been waiting in the wings. As we watched them squabble and tear at the flesh, a dark, angular shape drew our attention. The outline of a Bat hawk curved low across the scene. More hyaenas appeared but the sun was fast sinking behind the trees. We retreated through the shadows, paddling back across the Mwaleshi under a blood-red sky.

In the next three days we didn't see another person in the North Luangwa. The game was good, with several large groups of buffalo and sightings of lion. The lion always seemed nervous, a legacy of the park's poaching past - but surprisingly welcome when we approached too close by accident.

There are few other ways to have such a large slice of wilderness to yourself, but perhaps the easiest is to visit in the first few months of the year, during the wet season. This isn't for everybody, as the valley changes dramatically. The river swells to bursting as the surging brown waters undermine trees and carry them downstream like pooh-sticks. The valley's distinctive oxbow lagoons fill while all around the vegetation runs riot. Dry plains become verdant meadows, causing the game to disperse far and wide. With food plentiful, many of the bird and animal species have young, and the great heronries of the Nsefu sector are magical attractions.

During these months most roads become quagmires, so almost all the camps and lodges close. Tafika, the only camp outside the Mfuwe area to stay open, is then reached by boat and swaps its vehicles for canoes whilst the river is high. If you've only ever been to Africa in the dry season, then this is a fascinating time to visit - like being introduced to a different side of an old friend. Then, as you watch lightning shows roll over the landscape, you can be thankful that Livingstone didn't succeed in making the Luangwa Valley any better known that it already is.

Chris McIntyre is the author of Bradt Publications' guides to Zambia and Namibia, and has had articles published in the travel press. He is a director of a leading UK independent tour operator.

Luangwa Valley Factfile

Location: Within the Luangwa valley are four national parks - South Luangwa, North Luangwa, Luambe and Lukusuzi. These are separated by game management areas.

South Luangwa is about 435 miles (700 km) from Lusaka along a dusty, pot-holed and ill-kept road. In consequence, most visitors are transferred by air from Lusaka to Mfuwe, about 12 miles (20 km) from the park entrance.

Accommodation: Within the park there are about 15 upmarket lodges, spread along the eastern bank of the Luangwa river. These cater especially for overseas visitors. At about US$250 per person per day they are not cheap but their season is short, their situation unique, and their running costs are higher than for camps nearer supply centres. In terms of the experience offered, all boast excellent value.

Two government-run camps and a number of budget facilities offer modestly priced chalets and/or camping sites. Meals and light refreshments are available.

Two organisations have semi-permanent (chalet type) camps in the North Luangwa Park, and two mobile operators are also allowed access, though only one appears operational at present. Private visitors are not allowed in the park.

To visit either Luambe or Lukusuzi Parks requires a locally organised and well equipped and supported expedition - not a realistic proposition for overseas visitors.

Activities: Four outfits specialise in walking safaris and another conducts canoe and dinghy trips along the Luangwa river during February and March.

When to Visit: The best time for game viewing is between June and September, when it is cooler and drier, and when game is more easily seen.

Game viewing: Three "specials" to look out for are the Puka (Kobus vardonii), Cookson's wildebeest (Connochaetes taurinus cooksonii) and Thornicroft's giraffe (Girafa camelopardalis thornecrofti). With the exception of the rhinoceros, the big five are frequently seen.

South Luangwa is a bird lovers paradise. Over 400 species have been recorded, and in summer a number of migrants are fairly easily spotted.

History: In 1904 a Luangwa Game Park was declared on the eastern bank of the Luangwa river, but was not maintained. In May 1938 three parks were defined in the valley and in 1949 a private game reserve was established, which became the Nsefu Sector, later absorbed in South Luangwa park. In 1972 all reserves were turned into national parks.

Published in Travel Africa Edition Six: Winter 1998/1999. Text is subject to Worldwide Copyright (c)