13 February: Serengeti to Masai Mara

We were up painfully early again to get on the road by 7 a.m. It had rained overnight and the roads were in worse shape than ever. En route to the airstrip we spotted giraffe, impala, jackals, ostrich, and topis; we wished them all a fond Tanzanian farewell. We stopped briefly to say hello to Rodgers’ brother, who is a driver for another safari company. We arrived at the airstrip (which features a dirt runway, small café, covered waiting area, and, if I recall correctly, flush toilets!) and waited a few minutes for our plane to arrive: a brand new Cessna Caravan (single-engine prop), with seating for twelve, piloted by a nice British chap named Jeff. At this point we had to say farewell to Rodgers after exchanging contact information; we will miss him dearly! Renny told Jeff we had thirteen people on the flight and Jeff frowned, then pointed to R and said, “You want to be co-pilot?” R has some flying experience so it made sense. We squeezed on board for our short flight to Musoma. Taking off was a tad scary, as the stall warning sounded, but we were soon safely airborne. The flight was quite smooth, except for a few bumpy minutes in the clouds. We left behind the lush green plains of the Serengeti, strewn with Cape buffalo and impalas, followed a meandering river, and then descended into a landscape of neatly tilled fields and ramshackle tin-roofed towns. At Musoma we landed on a muddy dirt runway and deplaned briefly to complete our “leaving Tanzania” paperwork. We gathered in a dim, concrete-floored room lined with overstuffed couches upholstered in garish brown paisley velour. An opaque screen in the corner marked the door to the hole-in-the-ground toilet. The immigration officials sat on one of the couches and stamped our passports amidst rapid-fire conversation in Swahili. We all got our passports back and said goodbye to Renny. His baby is due tomorrow (Valentine’s Day!), so we wished him and his family all the best.

We boarded an aging Aero Kenya L410 twin-prop with balding tires and flew to Kisumu, just over the border back in Kenya. We were joined for this flight by a couple who were on their own private Micato “African Splendor” tour because the other four people had dropped out. After we all sat down, the female co-pilot asked J & H to move to the front of the plane because there was “too much weight in the back” – which garnered a chuckle from all of us! At Kisumu we met Tonnie, whowelcomed us warmly back to Kenya, then we filed inside a low clap-board building where the immigration officer took a break from reading his newspaper to stamp our passports. We had access to a much-improved restroom and then got back on our plane for the flight to the Masai Mara. R actually pointed out to the co-pilot that the threads were exposed on one tire but she didn’t seem to be concerned about it.

Our third flight of the day (about 25 minutes) brought us to Kichwa Tembo private airstrip, which consists of a dirt runway and a small thatched-roof gazebo ringed with benches. As we descended we could see the characteristic lone acacias dotting the plain, which is why the Maasai call this area the “spotted land.” Two warthogs scampered into the grass, tails wagging, as we touched down. At an elevation of 5,360 feet, I was relieved to find the weather relatively cool and partly cloudy after the heat of the Serengeti.

The Masai Mara, a 1500-square-kilometer private game preserve operated by the non-profit Mara Conservancy, is effectively the continuation of Serengeti National Park in Tanzania. The Mara is famous for common sightings of the Big Five: black rhinoceros, leopard, Cape buffalo, elephant, and lion (so named because they are considered the most difficult and dangerous animals to hunt in Africa), and we were hoping to see them all!

We clambered into two ancient Land Rovers – each outfitted with three stair-stepped bench seats, open sides, and a canvas roof – for the 20-minute drive to camp. Noticeably lacking were seatbelts and grab handles; all we had to hold on to were metal bars spanning the truck above each seat (this will become important later in the day!). Along the way we stopped under a tree and Wesley, our driver, pointed out a cheetah mom and her three 9-month-old cubs lounging in the tall grass less than fifteen feet away. Their bellies looked full and they were splayed out contentedly, completely ignoring us! We were absolutely thrilled to finally get up close and personal with cheetahs, although the grass was so high that it was next to impossible to get any clear photos. Nevertheless we enjoyed watching them for several minutes, getting our fill of their regal faces, sleek spotted coats, and tufted tails. (Postscript: After our safari I learned about the death of Honey, a Mara cheetah featured on the BBC program “Big Cat Diary.” In late February, Honey was sedated by the Kenya Wildlife Service so that they could treat one of her cubs for an injured paw; why they decided to intervene in this particular situation is not clear. Apparently Honey died under sedation from respiratory failure. Honey had five cubs but one was killed by a lion and another purportedly drowned, so three male cubs remain. Wesley told us that the cheetah we saw on this day originally had five cubs, so it might have been Honey, although he did not call her by any name. I read about a sighting of another female cheetah with three cubs in the vicinity of Kichwa Tembo in May, so I am hoping that this is the cheetah we saw and that she and her cubs are alive and well. On a positive note, Honey's cubs are doing well and have learned to hunt on their own.)

One big difference between the Mara and the other (national) parks we visited is that in the Mara, safari vehicles are allowed to drive off-road. This can be an advantage when you want to get closer to the animals, although I have to question how wise this is from a wildlife protection standpoint, not to mention human safety. More on that later!

Kichwa Tembo tented camp is located in a cluster of trees on a low rise overlooking the Mara. We drove through an electrified fence into the cool shade of the camp and were greeted at the door by several friendly staff members. We made our way through the lovely gift shop out into a grassy area in the middle of the camp, where a number of resident warthogs were grazing on close-cropped grass. We were advised that we could approach the warthogs safely but we were not to try to touch them! Several of the baby warthogs were kneeling on their front legs to eat, which was quite amusing. Two others were taking a snooze by the side of the path as we walked by, so I finally got a good warthog portrait – albeit under less than “natural” conditions. We sat in comfy chairs in the spacious open-air bar and filled out our registration paperwork before being escorted to our tents (I believe there are several dozen in all), which are laid out in a rough half-circle, linked by a maze of stone pathways.

Our tent was the furthest away, nestled among the trees with the sound of a rushing stream nearby. I was totally blown away by the tent – a spacious structure secured to a concrete foundation, with a lovely king-sized bed piled with pillows, a writing desk, brass lamps, candles, and a fully-equipped bathroom that could be separated from the rest of the room with curtain-type tent flaps. The bathroom had a stone-and-cement walk-in shower, a flush toilet, and a sink unit styled to look like a bamboo and wood dressing table, complete with a stool. Outside we had a little covered stone veranda with a couple of chairs and a table.

We cleaned up quickly and went back to the main lodge for lunch. We had the best service and some of the best food of the entire trip here – the staff was very attentive and exceptionally friendly. We enjoyed the excellent salad bar, delicious barbequed lamb, and beef and vegetable kabobs, followed by a selection of glorious desserts, including a macadamia nut and caramel concoction that was to die for! Apparently hearing that we were fawning over his creations, the amiable Chef George came out to say hello. (Later I bought a cookbook in the gift shop featuring the cuisine of CC Africa camps, and there is a picture of Chef George!) After lunch we had a short rest, during which time I sat outside of our tent with my journal, listening to the cacophony of bird calls, the soothing sound of rushing water, and the occasional blast of a hot air balloon rising above the plain in the distance.

We met outside at 3:00 to hear a talk about Maasai culture by Andrew, a 26-year-old Maasai junior elder. He told us quite matter-of-factly that he is married but doesn’t want to have any more wives because he wishes to pursue his education and not be “distracted”. (While Andrew was talking, a huge warthog kept circling us, “clacking” his jaws together incessantly in a futile effort to seduce the female he was pursuing.) Andrew told us that there are approximately 2.5 million Maasai in Tanzania and another ½-million in Kenya. They share a common language, Maa, although they are divided into thirteen different sections – seven in Tanzania and six in Kenya. Historically, the Maasai stayed in one location for 8-10 years before moving to a new village site 50-100 kilometers away; the old villages were burned. Now that school attendance is mandatory, it has become more difficult for the Maasai to practice this semi-nomadic lifestyle. They must build temporary villages so the men can move the herds and the children can go to school. The Maasai also traditionally built ceremonial villages, which the warriors used as a base for lion hunts in their quest for the symbolic paws and tails. Around the age of 24, a Maasai warrior cuts off his long braids and becomes a junior elder, at which point he can marry. His first wife is chosen by his parents, but he is free to choose subsequent wives. The more cows you own, the more wives you can have. In the past, men acquired more cows by stealing from other tribes, but now they rely on the more acceptable practice of breeding. Each Maasai wife builds her own house. Andrew described the duties of the men as grazing the cattle, settling disputes, and protecting the village, while the women are responsible for everything else: milking, cooking, fetching water, keeping house, and child-rearing. Each village has a medicine man and a midwife, although traveling missionary clinics now provide medical care and childhood vaccinations.

We climbed into the trucks for the short drive to the Maasai boma, or village, located on a gently-sloping hillside with a magnificent panoramic view of the Mara. The village was ringed by a wall of sharp-thorned acacia branches woven tightly together to form a thick mass several feet in width (the Maasai version of barbed-wire fencing). Outside the village, we watched a group of “old men” (as Andrew called them) playing a game of Bao on a long wooden board carved with small depressions and some type of round seeds. Andrew showed us the “sandpaper tree” and other useful plants, then took us through one of the four gates into the village (the number of gates represents the number of families in the village). Inside the walls, perhaps twenty huts ringed an inner fenced enclosure, where the cows are kept at night. A group of about a dozen women and girls, who had been busy setting up a market for us just outside the village, all filed into the cattle enclosure and performed a welcoming song for us. They wore bright red, pink, or lavender-colored robes and red-and-black striped sheets draped over their shoulders, along with gorgeous beaded bridal necklaces in bright shades of blue, red, and green. A few also wore elaborate beaded earrings and headdresses. The Maasai women gave the ladies in our group bridal necklaces to wear and the men got long strings of beads, and we all posed for photos. The women were very quiet and shy; I tried to imagine how bizarre it must be to have a constant stream of mostly-white tourists filing through your home all the time, pointing and staring and taking pictures.

Next we watched three young men demonstrate their fire-making technique using a sharp stick and a hollowed-out base of soft wood. They took turns rubbing the stick vigorously into the base until a thin tendril of smoke materialized, then the base was carefully wadded in dry grass, and one of the men blew gently on it until a tiny flame appeared. The whole process took about five minutes, and in the end the man held a flaming torch.

We then toured one of the huts, which looked incredibly small from the outside but contained a hallway and four rooms – one for the goats (which provide warmth at night), two bedrooms (one for the man and one for his wives and children), and a “kitchen” with a fire pit. It was incredibly dark inside so we could barely see, but in my photos you can make out the bed, with a sturdy frame of branches, a straw mattress, and a cowhide blanket. Scattered around were various buckets, sacks, and bits of “modern” clothing. Several houses were under construction so we could see the underlying network of woven branches, which is then covered over with a mixture of mud and dung. We noticed that at least some of the houses had a layer of plastic sheeting under the roof thatch, which is in turn weighted down with stones.

As we walked out again, DH asked Andrew how many cows the village owned. Andrew paused for a moment and then said, “between 60 and 80,” explaining that he couldn’t be more exact because “asking how many cows we have is like asking how much money you make.” Everyone laughed, including Andrew. Then we went to the market that the women had set up outside the village. Andrew instructed us to take a good look around, then pick out what we liked and the men would help us negotiate the prices. He explained that the women share all of the proceeds, so we didn’t need to worry about trying to give everyone our business. DH and I had an impossible time choosing between the vast array of wooden masks, animal carvings, bowls, dishes, and various beaded bracelets and necklaces. DH really wanted a bow and arrow but we were worried about getting it home (since we already have two spears to contend with). We finally settled on a carved elephant mask (not made by the Maasai, but a neighboring tribe), a blue and turquoise beaded bridal necklace, a small gourd “bottle” with a leather strap and beadwork used for collecting cow’s blood, and a necklace of black and blue beads.

The young man serving as our intermediary pointed at each piece we had chosen and called out to the women around the market to determine the price, then laid the items in the grass at our feet. The original prices were 3,000 Kenyan shillings for the mask, 6,000 for the bridal necklace, 2,000 for the gourd, and 1,000 for the necklace, totaling 12,000 shillings or about $170 dollars (1,000 shillings is about $15). Then the bargaining began! Unfortunately we only had 9,000 shillings and 10 Euro left to our name, and I really wanted everything. Our friend immediately offered 11,000 shillings for all four items. DH countered with an offer of 8,500; the Maasai man merely frowned. John then asked what it would be without the necklace; the man picked up the necklace and tossed it a foot or two to the side. An older tribesman came over and was now in discussion with our friend over the prices. While they were at it, DH and I talked to each other in German to discuss our options. We had done this before at the roadside shop in Tanzania and found it was an effective way to communicate without being understood by others. Finally the Maasai man suggested 9,000 shillings for the mask, bridal necklace, and gourd, and we accepted, but I was still looking regretfully at the necklace. Our negotiator suggested $10. I offered him 5 Euro and told him it was worth more than $5. He accepted, and our transaction was finally complete! We realized in retrospect that we should have bargained harder in Tanzania so we would have more money left to spend at the Maasai village, but who knew?

Everyone else was still finishing up their purchases as dark storm clouds rolled in. It started to sprinkle and the women scurried to pack up their wares. I think we all assumed that we were going back to camp because of the rain, but we headed out on our evening game drive as originally planned. We saw the cheetahs again, still under the same tree, but the light was growing too dim for decent photos. We headed straight into the storm and we could see lightning off in the distance. We weren’t the only ones out there – we could see several trucks making their way across the plain around us. Our driver today was Joseph and he said we were looking for a rhino. I wasn’t keen on finding a rhino when it was too dark to take pictures; in any case, we all had our eyes only on the rapidly approaching storm. Suddenly, as if by some hidden signal, all of the trucks turned around and hightailed it back to the main road, but by now we were well out on the plain and had a long slog back. An arm of the storm had snuck up around us and it started to rain in earnest. Ponchos were passed around but there was no avoiding getting wet – pools of water would collect on the sagging canvas roof and when we hit a large enough bump, the water came sloshing over the side and onto the seats. For the first few bumps most of these sudden waterfalls hit DH’s side of the truck, but eventually I got my fair share of the dousing. We were soaked through in no time! All we could do was try to keep our cameras and binoculars dry. We bounced and rocked along over the rutted track as it got darker by the moment.

DH and I were seated in the very back of our truck with N & D in the middle and MIL & FIL up front. The four of us in back tried to make light of the situation (me: “This wasn’t advertised in the brochure!” N: “I think I’ve entered the fifth stage of dying!”), although we didn’t hear a peep from MIL & FIL, who were hunched over in the front seat and looked quite miserable. I for one was laughing hysterically the whole way. Finally, in pitch blackness, we entered the gates of Kichwa Tembo. The staff ran out to us with umbrellas for the 50-foot dash into the gift shop via a walkway that had turned into a torrential stream (I was quite pleased that my new Gore-tex sneakers didn’t leak!). We all tumbled through the doorway together and stood there looking at each other with dazed expressions.

It was only after a few minutes that I realized J was wiping blood off of his face – and his wife H was bleeding too! It turns out that they were riding in the back of the other truck, went over a particularly large bump, and got thrown into the air and knocked heads, cutting each other with their metal frames of their glasses. J had a deep cut across the bridge of his nose and another on his forehead and H had a nasty gouge just above her right eye. N, a urologist, immediately took control of the situation and performed triage with his wife D serving as nurse. Tonnie had disappeared in the mêlée but came back shortly with a first aid kit. While N was patching up J & H, I looked out the front door and observed the rising water, which was fast approaching the top of the step leading into the building. I asked one of the camp staffers if he had ever seen this much water here and he said no. At some point a very young doctor came on the scene but there wasn’t anything he could do that N hadn’t already done. Frankly he looked very shocked to be there, probably having been called away from a warm dinner! Fortunately J & H were real troopers; once they got over the initial shock, they were smiling and laughing about the whole epsiode. I took some photos of them with N that I am sure they will treasure forever. I felt terrible about having so much fun in our truck when the others were terrified, but luckily their injuries were superficial.

Finally everyone calmed down and we staggered off to our tents, the rain having finally let up. We changed, took hot showers, and hung everything up to dry (which was rather futile given the damp conditions). Our video camera appeared to have condensation inside the eyepiece and was inoperable, but we hoped that it would dry out. We regrouped for dinner and enjoyed another great barbeque with salads and, for desert, éclairs with chocolate and caramel sauce. A cup of hot tea helped warm me up. I asked Tonnie if the rains were going to affect our balloon ride tomorrow morning and he said no, but I was still concerned about the roads being passable. After dinner we watched a slide show about the Mara but I was so exhausted, I could barely keep my eyes open. Back at our tent, we found heart-shaped soapstones on our pillows; a Valentine’s Day gift from Micato. (They must not be that concerned about the weight limit if they are giving us rocks!) We collapsed into bed, incredibly grateful for the hot water bottles, and fell asleep to the sound of the raging river, hoping we wouldn’t be swept away during the night!

12 February: Splendid Serengeti

Our wake-up knock came at 6 a.m. so we could eat breakfast before our 7:30 game drive. We watched a spectacular lavender- and rose-hued sunrise from our balcony, then enjoyed the “usual” breakfast buffet at our two tables on the terrace – a fresh breeze rolling in off the plains adding just the right touch – before setting off on our game drive. It took a good forty-five minutes to descend out of the hills and onto the plains (this may be a disadvantage of staying at the Serengeti Sopa Lodge). We were searching for leopards in every suitable-looking tree (Rodgers having pointed out the sort of low, horizontal branches where they like to hang out). It is amazing how easily your eyes can trick you, particularly when you really want to see a leopard; we saw those deceptive A.L.T.’s in just about every sprawling acacia tree! We passed one particular tree where our guides had heard a leopard was sighted within the last hour or two. Rodgers spotted tell-tale tire tracks leading up to and away from the tree and he suspected that someone had driven illegally off-road to get closer to the leopard and scared it off, therefore ruining the experience for the rest of us. We were pretty frustrated.

Other wildlife sightings this morning included four Topis, four black-backed jackals trotting down the road in front of us and, a little later, three more lounging by the side of the road, a Coke’s Hartebeest (a large grassland antelope), and Bohor Reedbuck (another large, reddish antelope). Additional bird sightings included a family of Helmeted Guinea Fowl with eight or nine chicks, Rüppell’s Long-Tailed Starling, African Hoopoe (an awesome bird but unfortunately it moved to fast to get a photo), Cardinal Woodpecker, Bare-Faced Go-away Bird, Montague’s Harrier, Rosy-cheeked Cordon Bleu, Fisher’s Lovebird, and Gray-headed Spurfowl.

The road conditions were none too good – at times looking more like a river than a road – and we were grateful for our trusty Land Cruisers. We gave up temporarily on the leopard search and made our way to a large muddy pool where we saw our largest group of hippos to date – I estimated between 20 and 30 individuals. A youngster yawned widely, showing us its chompers. Another rolled over in the water, looking quite comical with its stubby, mud-covered legs flailing in the air.

A little while later we got a glimpse of three cheetahs – probably brothers – loping away from us in the grass. It was amazing how easily they blended in with their surroundings. Next we got our closest view yet of some Topis – they crossed the road directly in front of us – and then spotted a large herd of Cape Buffalo several hundred yards from the road. We also got a good look at a Vervet monkey (also known as the blue-balled monkey – for good reason) perched in a tree. We stopped at a nature center for a short hike and learned a bit about the flora and fauna of the plains. Here we saw a number of hyraxes foraging on acacia leaves, a Grey-capped Social Weaver, and a Speke’s Weaver working very intently on his teardrop-shaped nest of woven grass. Next we visited another hippo pool, where an acacia tree arching over the pond was loaded with dozens of weaver nests. On or way back to the lodge we came across a small group of giraffe feeding on acacias right next to the road. We also stopped so Bernard could move a turtle safely off the road. Near the river I noticed a lot of acacia trees with distinctive yellow bark and almost simultaneously Rodger pointed and said, “Those are yellow-barked acacias.”

We didn’t get back to the lodge until nearly 2:30 (I think Renny kept us out longer than usual hoping that we would finally spot a leopard) so we only had a couple of hours before our evening game drive left at 4:30. We ate lunch on the terrace – we skipped the soup because it was so hot, then had a nice cucumber, carrot and cabbage salad; I had fish curry with rice and DH had beef stir-fry with potatoes. We had some laundry done while we were out (it was the cheapest here of all the lodges we stayed at) and it was already finished and neatly folded when we returned to our room. I spent some time wandering the grounds after lunch – there is a lovely pool, although we didn’t have time to take advantage of it (yet again) – and trying to sneak up on the brilliantly-colored lizards that were crawling around all over the place.

Several members of our group were thinking of bailing out on the afternoon game drive but Renny and the rest of us convinced them to come along; this would, after all, be our last outing with Renny and he wanted to give us a fitting send-off. I had a feeling they had something special planned. Renny invited me to take the front seat next to Rodgers while he sat in the back, so I had a great view of the road ahead. I knew something was up when, not twenty minutes into our drive, Rodgers started exchanging meaningful gestures and conversing in Swahili with the guides in several passing trucks. I stared down the road and glimpsed a splash of gold in the trees above the road. My mouth said, “Oh my God!” before my brain had time to react. At first I thought, “Leopard!” but I didn’t see any spots. Then I had this sinking feeling that my eyes were playing tricks on me again. As we came closer, I realized that there were lions in the tree! Tree-climbing lions, right above the road! There were four in all – a lioness and one cub in a tree off to the left side of the road, perhaps thirty feet away, and a second lioness and another cub lounging on a branch hanging directly over the road. We had our windows closed and the top down because we were still in the tse-tse fly area, so I had to lean over in Rodgers’ lap in a very contorted position and take pictures out his window. As I snapped away, Rodgers laughed and said I was just like a Japanese tourist. At one point Rodgers grabbed my camera and took some pictures himself, including a great shot of the cub yawning. The lighting conditions were really tough, with the lions in the shade set against the bright sky, so I took a ton of pictures.

The lioness hanging over the road just lay there quietly, looking down at us with those mesmerizing golden eyes. She looked directly into my lens several times and I got the most brilliant portraits of her. At one point the cub looked like it was going to jump down out of the tree, but it thought better of it and went back to lie next to the female. Rodgers pointed at the cub, which still had its spots, and said they were special “spotted lions,” so hopefully that would make up for not seeing a leopard. He said that seeing tree-climbing lions, especially so close to the road, is extremely rare. Honestly, I felt like I could live with not seeing a leopard after that amazing experience! Finally Renny told us we had to move on.

At the rickety wooden bridge (with the hand-painted sign saying “2-ton weight limit”) there was a giraffe standing in the road in front of us. It didn’t budge for several minutes, just sat there swishing its tail at us, so Rodgers drove slowly up behind it and we watched it turn tail and lope off into the grass, hindquarters heaving. There’s nothing quite like the ungainly gallop of a giraffe! We spotted a Pygmy Falcon (the smallest African bird of prey) en route to a small saltwater lake, where we saw a Grey Heron, a Hottentot Teal (Africa’s smallest duck, with a distinctive blue bill), a Three-banded Plover, a flock of pink-tinged Yellow-billed Storks with bright red faces and yellow beaks, and a Blacksmith’s Plover sitting on its nest in the sand, right out in the open.

We parked the trucks by the lake, where Renny, Rodgers, and Bernard laid out a white-clothed table and served us sundowners. I managed to prop my camera up on the hood of one of the trucks and got a great group shot of all of us making one final toast to Tanzania. The sun was dropping rapidly towards the horizon, so we had to literally race back to the lodge. On the way back we stopped briefly to watch a herd of impala with lots of babies, then we found all four lions where we had left them, now grouped together in the tree off to the side of the road. The two cubs were sacked out side-by-side with their long tails hanging down in parallel. We couldn’t stop for long because we were supposed to be back at the lodge by 7 p.m. We said goodbye to the lions and thanked them for putting the crowing touch on our visit to Tanzania!

We had another nice meal (at this point I started getting behind on my notetaking so I don’t have all the details). The service at Serengeti Sopa was rather slow and sometimes unreliable, but the food was quite good. Then it was off to bed, as we had to leave at 7 a.m. sharp, to give us plenty of time to navigate the treacherous roads to the airstrip, where we would catch our plane back to Kenya.

11 February: Ngorongoro to Serengeti

We left Ngorongoro at 8 a.m. sharp, retracing our steps along the crater rim and then taking what passes for a highway in Tanzania in the direction of Lake Victoria. (As we passed the ritzy Ngorongoro Crater Lodge, Rodgers regaled us with stories of all the famous people who have stayed there: “Bill Gates, Hillary Clinton, and…Rodgers!”) En route we passed many Maasai villages and an incredible lush volcanic “depression” that stays green year-round, even in the dry season. We passed one village where a group of Maasai in their customary bright red garb were dancing for a small group of tourists. A little further on we stopped to drive off-road to observe a large group of giraffes – 15-20 of them – all munching contentedly on shrubby acacia. There must have been some choice shoots of grass too, because we watched one giraffe splay its legs way out so it could get its head close enough to the ground to graze. It looked like an incredibly awkward position for the poor fellow! Renny was in the other truck and as they turned around to return to the road, he stuck his head out the window, pointing and waving at us and shouting, “Helloooo homo sapiens!” as if we were a rare wildlife sighting. It was really funny at the time, trust me.

Our first stop of the day was Olduvai Gorge (the name is most likely a misspelling of Oldupai, the Maasai word for the wild sisal plant that grows in the gorge), known as the “Cradle of Mankind” – a steep-walled, 30-mile-long ravine of striated orange rock where, in the 1950s, the archaeologists Louis and Mary Leaky first discovered extensive hominid remains and stone tools dating back more than 2.5 million years. The excavation work continues today by members of the Leaky family. Seventeen years after beginning their work at Olduvai, Mary Leaky discovered an amazing series of fossilized footprints from a human ancestor who walked along the riverbank some 3 million years ago. A casting of the footprints is on display in the small museum, along with a detailed explanation of how the original footprints were covered up in order to protect them from erosion. Since then, archaeologists working at Olduvai Gorge have uncovered skeletal remains of many ancient hominids, including Homo habilis, Homo erectus, and Australopithecus Boisei, along with other artifacts such as hunting weapons, tools, and fossilized remains of the fauna that once frequented the gorge.

We listened to a short lecture in a covered outdoor “classroom” and had some time to peruse the small exhibit rooms. For practical reasons I will mention that the restroom facilities at Olduvai were the worst so far on our trip; the only positive thing I can say about them is that the view from the men’s open-air cement “trough” was stunning!

On our way back to the main road, we encountered two little Maasai boys who flagged us down and asked for water. We handed them a couple of ice-cold bottles from our well-stocked cooler. They seemed pretty pleased, although we all wondered what they would do with the plastic bottles after they drank the water.

A short while later we passed through the largest herd of wildebeest that we would see on the entire safari. Granted, this was probably nowhere near the size of the herds that one sees during the height of the migration, but it was impressive nonetheless…hundreds of wildebeest dotting the green plain, stretching all the way back to the hills of Ngorongoro. Not too long after the great herd, in a fitting completion to the “circle of life” we had witnessed over the past few days, we came across a group of vultures pecking viciously at a dead wildebeest not ten feet from the road. (I suspect the carnage was the result of a wildebeest-car collision rather than natural causes.) We watched for a few minutes as the huge vultures (truly the nastiest-looking representatives of bird-kind that I know of) and various storks fought over the remains, but the stench was so overpowering that I think I was the one who said “sawa sawa” first, just so we could get away from the smell!

We crossed a number of dry, rocky riverbeds as we continued along a relatively smooth dirt road cutting across the shrubby plains. We came around a bend and spotted a forlorn zebra foal standing splay-legged in the middle of the road. It couldn’t have been more than a few days old, and had obviously gotten lost, been abandoned, or else its mother died. We drove right past the little guy, who just stared blankly at us as he wobbled on spindly legs. It seemed like he may have already been attacked by some predator or another, perhaps a hyena. Rodgers told us it was unlikely that he would last the night. It was a terribly sad sight, but of course there was nothing we could do to help him.

We crossed the border between Ngorongoro Conservation Area and Serengeti National Park at midday. The boundary is marked by a clump of acacia trees and a wooden sign suspended across the road that reads Karibu hifadhi ya Serengeti (“Welcome to the Serengeti”). We walked out into the middle of the road; all we could see in either direction was endless green plain stretching to the horizon, with the most amazing expanse of blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds arching over our heads.

On our way into the park we spotted two separate lion prides, both lounging in the grass a few hundred feet from the road. A small herd of zebra stood on the alert with ears perked, not far from one of the prides. Next we drove through an immense herd of zebra, who posed artfully for our photographs. We stopped at the main park entrance for box lunches (good but way too much food – Renny piled all of our leftovers in a box and said he would give it to the guys who wash the trucks) and took a short hike up to a flat rock outcropping that Renny said was the inspiration for Pride Rock in “The Lion King.” From there we had a magnificent view out across the grasslands (Serengeti is Maasai for “endless plains”). Once again we marveled at how green and lush it looked – definitely not my image of the parched, golden African plains from a childhood of National Geographic programs. This was by far the hottest day so far. I was so hot when we came back down from the rock that I poured half a bottle of water over my head, prompting Rodgers to ask me very earnestly if I was okay. I am sure they are trained to recognize the first signs of heatstroke; I knew I was not in any danger, I just get overheated (and likewise chilled) very easily! (Note: The bathroom facilities here were, amazingly, even worse than at Olduvai. I will refrain from describing just how disgusting it was, but suffice it to say that at this point MIL and I would have given just about anything for a friendly bush, but there simply wasn’t enough privacy. What made it even worse was that there was a sparkling new restroom building right nextdoor to the old outhouses, but the doors were locked! We don’t think the plumbing was hooked up yet.)

Back on the road again, we added several bird sightings to our life list – European Roller, Hildebrandt's Starling, Red-Billed Buffalo Weaver, and Fiscal Shrike (some of these may actually be repeat sightings - my notes are in several places). Then we learned just how good Rodgers’ eagle eyes are – he spotted a Serval cat prowling through the grass several hundred feet off the road. I have no idea how he was able to see it while he was driving, particularly when the rest of us had our eyes peeled on the surrounding landscape for any sign of movement! (Rodgers had already warned us about the commonly-sighted A.L.T., or “animal-like thing” and P.O.P., or “pile of poop.”) We turned off and rushed out to watch the Serval – a gorgeous, slender, spotted cat with large tufted ears, a black nose, and golden eyes. The Serval has the longest legs (relative to body size) of any cat, allowing it to see over the tall grasses of its savanna habitat. It uses its large ears to listen for its prey, which mostly consists of small rodents. While hunting, the Serval may pause for up to fifteen minutes at a time with its eyes closed (I learned that on Wikipedia). The Serval is a very efficient hunter, catching its prey on nearly half of its attempts, compared to around one in ten for most cat species (also Wikipedia). Our Serval took absolutely no notice of us as it sat in the jeep track in front of us for a few moments, walked slowly towards and past our truck, then disappeared without a sound into the tall grass. The other truck caught up with us a few moments later but the cat was gone; all we could do was point into the waving grasses where we had last seen it.

As we continued across the plains, we saw many of the rounded granite outcroppings called “kopjes”, which seemed like perfect lookouts for lions à la Pride Rock, but we didn’t see any. Not long after our Serval sighting, we came across a lone jackal curled up by the side of the road. He/she looked very hot, panting heavily, and I felt sort of sorry for it, sitting there all alone in the heat of the day.

A range of low hills grew steadily larger on our horizon. Somewhere nestled in those hills lay our destination: the Serengeti Sopa Lodge. The road grew steadily worse as we approached – a rutted, muddy mess, with the occasional eroded ravine cutting its way threateningly across our path. The last 45 minutes were the worst (and we learned that we would have to traverse this same road several more times on our game drives tomorrow!). As we headed into the hills, we had to close all of the windows and put the top down on the Land Cruiser in order to keep the tse-tse flies out. Rodgers told us about the symptoms of sleeping sickness as he slapped absentmindedly at a few tse-tse flies buzzing around his arms. I was absolutely miserable from the heat and just hoped it would be over soon.

Once we were out of the tse-tse fly zone we were able to roll down our windows again – ah, the breeze! – and stopped briefly to watch a large herd of impala with a number of tiny babies grazing alongside the road. We also got our first view of Topis, or rather the rear-ends of a couple of Topis, heading off into the bush. They are a large species of antelope with distinctive slate blue-colored legs, for which they have earned the nickname “blue jeans.”

We finally arrived at the lodge around 5:30 and retreated gratefully to our rooms. The lodge itself looks a bit aged from the exterior, but the rooms are gorgeous and obviously recently renovated. We had two good-sized black iron beds (which looked quite atmospheric with their floaty white mosquito nets and funky built-in lamps), warm-stained cement floors, a cobalt blue-tiled walk-in shower, and the most breathtakingly beautiful view out over the Serengeti that I could have ever hoped for.

After a refreshingly cold shower (I didn’t have the patience to wait until the hot water came on at 6 pm!) and a change of clothes, we watched a rain squall move over the plains in the distance, then the sun came out and cast a brilliant golden glow across the grasslands. We regrouped for cocktails (on Micato) around a roaring bonfire, watching the lightning show on the horizon, until we were driven inside by a sudden thunderstorm. We retreated to a cozy room deep inside the lodge, where we got to choose another complimentary bottle of wine from the wine list. Dinner in the warm-toned dining room was quite pleasant. I had fried fish cakes, skipped the tomato soup, then chose the vegetable-filled “pancakes” and a banana-custard creation for dessert. DH had chicken terrine, a beef stir-fry with mashed potatoes, and the same banana dessert. After dinner the lodge staff performed several songs and dances for our enjoyment. We fell into bed at a reasonable time for once, looking forward to our day out on the plains.

10 February: Ngorongoro

We were awakened by a “wake-up knock” at 6:15 this morning and saw an impressive White-necked Raven on our way to the main lodge for breakfast – the usual buffet of sausage, bacon, cold cuts, fresh fruit, rolls and breads, and eggs made-to-order. It was quite cool out and I wore my fleece-lined windbreaker for the first time.

We departed on our game drive at 8 am. It took us about half an hour to descend into the crater on a reasonably well-maintained red-dirt road. Umbrella acacias arched over the road, forming a dense green canopy above our heads. The acacias slowly gave way to stunted shrubs and finally lush grasses as we approached the crater floor. En route we spotted a Hildebrand’s Francolin, an Auger Buzzard, a Nubian Vulture, and the first of many Abdim’s Storks. We passed a small herd of grazing zebra as the vast expanse of the crater came into view before us, the sun shimmering across the lake in the distance. A few sparse clouds hung beneath the rim of the crater and the slopes on the far side (eleven miles away, as I recall) melded into hazy shades of green. Two spotted hyenas trotted into view, and then a good-sized herd of wildebeest appeared on the slope ahead of us. Within minutes we spotted our first lion – a lone lioness striding away from us, heading up a steep hill several hundred yards away. She disappeared behind a rock; a small herd of Cape Buffalo browsing on the crest of the hill seemed oblivious to her presence.

We continued onwards, approaching a much larger herd of wildebeest, many of which had newborn babies at their sides. We found ourselves in the midst of a veritable wildebeest nursery. The females all seemed to be giving birth on the right side of the road, nudging their young onto their feet within minutes and chasing them around for a bit to get them used to their wobbly legs. Then, once the babies were able to keep up, they headed across the road to the wildebeest kindergarten on the other side. Waiting in the wings (for the afterbirths and perhaps any newborns that didn’t make it) were two Rüppell’s Griffon Vultures and two African White-backed Vultures.

We enjoyed watching the wildebeest for several minutes, but then Rodgers reported that there was “something to see” and we abruptly turned around and went tearing back to the hill where we’d seen the lioness. Now there were two more lionesses, about twenty yards from the road. One of them sauntered towards us, and I had the unforgettable experience of staring directly into two golden lion eyes for the very first time in my life. This moment will be etched in my memory as long as I live – it is impossible for me to describe the brutal power, uncanny intelligence, and total wildness in that mesmerizing yellow gaze. She walked past our truck, sat down in the middle of the road for a few minutes, yawned, then got up and walked underneath my window. She was so close that I couldn’t focus on her with my zoom lens so I just put my camera down and stared. I was half-kneeling in my seat, my face practically out the window, and when the lioness paused to stare up at me again from less than four feet away, I pulled away in a totally spontaneous reflex – as if some ancient instinctive mechanism buried in my psyche was telling me that one should not stare directly into the eyes of a fierce predator! As we watched, the two lions lost interest in our trucks and headed slowly but purposefully up the hill in the same direction as the first lioness, and we all decided that they must be setting up for a hunt. They disappeared from view and we moved on, returning to spend some more time among the wildebeest.

We drove slowly through the wildebeest nursery and then struck out again across the plain. From a distance, we saw two Elands (the largest antelope species in Africa), and then we had the wonderful experience of watching a wildebeest giving birth. She was far enough away that we had to use binoculars, but we could see a great deal. The whole process took a matter of minutes – first two hooves appeared, while the female continued grazing nonchalantly, then she lay down and got up several times in rapid succession, as a few more inches of gangly legs came into view. Finally she went down for good and we couldn’t see what was happening for a few minutes. Then she stood up again, nuzzling at a small dark brown lump at her feet. It took several agonizing tries, but the little one finally scrambled to its feet and took its first few tottering steps on impossibly long, skinny legs. We all breathed a communal sigh of relief – wildebeest will abandon their newborns if they are not up and walking after ten minutes!

A few minutes later we approached two more lionesses from a second pride. This time they were lying in the grass just a few feet from the road, and as the safari trucks gathered, they both got up and laid down in the shade of the trucks. By this point I had gotten over the initial shock of seeing lions at such close range and I just stood and snapped away with my camera as these two gorgeous animals lay panting in the shade, seemingly oblivious to the curious crowd of onlookers gathered around them. As we watched, first one female and then the other came over and stretched out full-length alongside our truck. We could see the flies buzzing around their heads and the bloody wounds of battle on their golden coats. I could have counted the whiskers on their chins if I wanted to. Someone had reported seeing cubs here only a few minutes before we arrived, but the pride had apparently hustled them into hiding in a cluster of trees along the river when all the vehicles started approaching.

After getting our fill of the lionesses, we headed for our picnic spot, as it was now approaching noon. We spotted a Rosy-breasted Longclaw, a Martial Eagle (Africa’s largest eagle) and three waterbuck along the way. We drove through the herd of wildebeest again, which was now intermixed with a number of zebras and gazelles, and stopped to watch two old male Cape Buffalos wallowing in a mud puddle. They have the most forlorn expressions – it is hard to believe they are so dangerous. We also saw a couple of ostriches, a beautiful Crowned Crane stretching its wings, and an Abdim’s Stork sunning itself. We forded a small stream and arrived at the picnic spot next to a marsh-rimmed lake teeming with hippos. We stopped to use the restroom (a “five-star facility”) and thought we were going to eat lunch, but Rodgers reported that he had received some “interesting information” so we all piled back into the trucks and headed back the way we had come.

The drivers and guides all speak Swahili to each other so we never know what we are going to see next. This time it was a cheetah – our first of the safari! She was several hundred yards away, stalking a few lone gazelles, but we couldn’t find a good vantage point for viewing or pictures and Rodgers told us it would probably be quite a while before anything happened, so we continued on to “something else.” En route we saw two warthogs trotting along with tails held high.

The “something else” turned out to be the third of Ngorongoro’s resident lion prides (as I recall there are five prides in the crater). This time it was the pride with two male lions (a fairly unusual social arrangement). One of the males was lying in the shade of a truck when we arrived and the other was lounging regally on a low rise, a few feet away from a beautiful lioness who was taking a snooze on a warm rock. After a few minutes the female lifted her head and yawned. Rodgers told us, “That means she’s ready,” but we thought he was only kidding! Sure enough, the male yawned, the female got up and approached the male, and they mated right there in front of us, about thirty feet away. There was some grunting and yowling and then it was over. Rodgers informed us that the lions will mate every fifteen minutes or so over the course of several days. The male walked away and the female rolled over onto her back, then returned to her snoozing spot. The male lay down and yawned again, showing us a marvelous view of his impressive fangs.

On the way back to the picnic site we saw the cheetah again – apparently her hunt had been unsuccessful, as she was now stopping to take a drink at a small pond. It was after 2:00 when we finally stopped for lunch. Renny and the drivers set up a white-clothed table and laid out a feast of roast chicken, steak, samosas, vegetable quiche, salads, bread, cookies, and chocolate bars. Renny advised that we eat in the truck because a White-shouldered Kite was hovering over our heads, waiting for an opportune moment to snatch a bite – and maybe a finger or two. We were also joined by several cannibalistic Helmeted Guinea Fowl who fought over a chicken breast that Renny tossed to them. A Speke’s Weaverbird and several Superb Starlings fluttered nearby, hoping for a handout. As we ate we admired the view over the lake, which is bordered by a large marshy area known to be an elephant graveyard. We could hear occasional grunts, snorts, honks, and splashes coming from the hippos in the lake, but they stayed mostly submerged.

Renny told us that normally we would have driven out to the large lake on the far side of the crater at this point, but the road was nearly impassable from the recent rains, so unfortunately we missed seeing the flamingos. By this time it was close to 3:00 and threatening to rain, so we decided to call it an early day. We did drive out far enough to spot a black rhino way off in the marsh, so at least we can say we’ve seen a wild black rhino. There are now 26 rhinos in Ngorongoro, all under twenty-four hour surveillance by park rangers. Back in the 1990s a rhino left the crater and walked over 200 kilometers to the Serengeti, where he found some lady friends and mated. No one is sure quite what drove him to do this! He was closely guarded by rangers all along his journey and is still living happily in the Serengeti. Renny told us that rhino poachers can now be shot on sight or face seven years in prison and a $2,500 fine if they are caught with rhino trophies.

On our way back we spotted a golden jackal (our second of the day). We thought we were going to get to see some zebras mating, but the male couldn’t quite get his act together – I guess he was a bit shyer than the lion. We returned to the lodge around 4:00 and showered, then enjoyed drinks on the balcony again as we watched the sun set over the crater. It was a little hazy this evening but we still were treated to a spectacular tangerine sunset.

The lodge manager had greeted us last night and asked us if we had any special meal requests; R suggested pizza and tonight they delivered! It was topped with cheddar cheese, tomato, and onion, and was quite tasty. The rest of the meal was excellent – starting with curried potato and spinach soup and followed by an incredible buffet of African meat stews, fish, and various salads, with “banana pie” (basically bananas smothered in chocolate sauce) and rice pudding for dessert.

We fell into bed completely exhilarated and exhausted by our day in Ngorongoro. Tomorrow we head to the Serengeti via Olduvai Gorge – sure to be another day of amazing sights and sounds!

9 February: Tarangire to Ngorongoro

We’ve started to become accustomed to 6 am wake-up calls – somehow it is easier to get up in the morning when you have a game drive to look forward to! We saw another Rock Hyrax perched on the roof en route to the main lodge, where we enjoyed the ample breakfast buffet. At 8 am we gathered in front of the lodge, where we met our new drivers, Rodgers and Bernard. We had our eyes peeled for leopards all morning, but despite scanning every tree in sight, we saw no predators. (R, J&H skipped this morning’s game drive and slept in, which was probably a smart move given that it was a slow morning in terms of wildlife, and the lodge had a very enticing pool!)

Birds, on the other hand, were plentiful. My sighting list continued to grow, including: Crested Francolin, Von der Decken’s Hornbill, Yellow-collared Lovebird (so cute!), Red-necked Spurfowl, Bare-faced Go-Away Bird, White-browed Coucal, Magpie Shrike, Pin-tailed Whydah (I spotted this one myself, fluttering alongside the truck, and identified it later), Namaqua Dove (the smallest dove in Africa), Tawny Eagle, Fiscal Shrike, White-bellied Go-Away Bird, and Southern Ground Hornbill (a large black bird with bright red markings on its face, which DH spotted sitting in the crook of a tree - despite its name!). We got a good look at an African Fish Eagle, which resembles a Bald Eagle, perched high in a sausage tree overlooking the muddy, boiling waters of the Tarangire River. We also disturbed a flock of Helmeted Guinea Fowl, which raced along in front of the truck before alighting in a dead tree, where they proceeded to shriek at us in protest.

This morning’s mammal sightings included a tiny black mongoose running across the road, a family of banded mongooses playing on a termite mound (DH spotted these too!), a few giraffes, a few elephants (which are much warier than the ones at Amboseli), three waterbuck, and a harem of perhaps 60 impala with one male trying to keep track of them all. Rodgers informed us that such males usually only last about three months because their job is so exhausting – then another younger, stronger male moves in. We stopped for a bathroom break at a nice picnic area with a view of an expansive swamp and took a great group photo in front of one of the trucks. We didn’t see much after 10 am and headed back to the lodge a little after 11.

After lunch (fried fish, potatoes, mixed salad), we left for Ngorongoro, bumping back along the road to the Tarangire park entrance. En route we came across a small group of elephants crossing the road. These elephants were much darker in color than the Amboseli elephants. They were not very happy with us as we stopped to watch, particularly a “teenager” who seemed very protective of the single baby in the group. He (or she) stood in the middle of the road in a very agitated stance until the little one got across, then stamped the ground for good measure. We stopped again to watch a large troupe of baboons that were playing in the trees on both sides of the road. One large male was visibly wounded, probably from fighting with his own kind.

Once we left Tarangire, we were relieved to get on the smooth, pothole-free “Japanese road” (which had the first painted lines we’d seen in a while) towards Ngorongoro. We stopped at a roadside curio shop to “support the local economy”; DH & I spent a lot more money than we should have on two Maasai spears (they break down into three pieces to fit in your luggage) and two carved ebony candlesticks. We could have used a lesson in bargaining – we might have paid half of what we did. (Note to others: ALWAYS bargain!) It was an interesting transaction because all we had were Euros and Kenyan shillings. We were a little surprised when the girl who was waiting for us came down a bit on the price but suggested that we slip her a little something on the side. We ended up giving her 1000 shillings - we figured she could use it more than us.

A little further along, we passed through a small town near the base of a range of velvety green hills. Rodgers stopped briefly and bought a huge bunch of bananas from two women selling fruit by the roadside. I’m not a big banana fan but I heard they were quite tasty – and they were the fattest bananas I’ve ever seen! Our next stop was the entrance gate for Ngorongoro Conservation Area, where Renny gave us a brief overview of the crater and its relationship to the Serengeti. Then we made our way up a mountain road, winding our way through lush rainforest with magnificent views out over Lake Manyara. The road turned to dirt – a rich, red-orange clay – and was threatened by washouts in places. We caught our first glimpses into the crater as we bumped along the ridge to the lodge. We saw an elephant browsing by the side of the road and spotted our first umbrella acacias – gorgeous trees whose spreading branches have peculiar flat tops, making them look very much like umbrellas.

We arrived at Ngorongoro Sopa Lodge around 6 pm, so the drive from Tarangire took a leisurely four hours in total. The lodge has spacious main buildings that take advantage of the magnificent panoramic view of the crater. Renny checked us in and then we all got to pick out a bottle of wine to be delivered to our room or served with our dinner. (We wondered whether this was Micato’s way of apologizing for yesterday’s long drive). Then we followed our bags to our rooms, located in a long row of round buildings resembling Maasai huts (yes, there is a trend in the architectural style here!). Our room was vast, with two double beds (the elevation is high enough here that mosquito nets are not needed), two comfortable rocking chairs set in front of a floor-to-ceiling window, and a nice tiled bathroom that looked recently renovated, but there was no place to hang anything – not a closet or hook in sight! We ended up laying our wet laundry on the rocking chairs in the sun, where it dried fairly quickly.

We enjoyed cocktails (courtesy of Micato again) and snacks on a private balcony in the main lodge building. There was no sunset, as the far side of the crater was engulfed in billowing storm clouds, but as night fell we watched lightning bounce between the clouds off in the distance. The cavernous dining room was packed compared to Amboseli and Tarangire. (I later determined that there are only three or four lodges along the rim of the crater, so the density of guests is naturally higher here.) Dinner was quite good – mozzarella, tomato, and onion tart followed by lentil soup with ginger; I had spinach and mushroom lasagna with blue cheese, DH had the “African fusion” dish of spiced chicken with mixed vegetables and rice, and dessert was something involving chocolate and pineapple. This was by far the best dinner of the trip so far. We had an escort back to our room afterwards – he carried a flashlight and a long stick, and I wondered just how well he could fend off an attack with these basic implements! We went to bed full of anticipation for tomorrow’s all-day game drive in the crater.