Day Six of Our East African Safari A Day of Devastating Disasters; Hopes of Seeing The Great Migration; At the No-Crossing Kenya-Tanzania Border; A Trek Along the River Sand; A Refreshing Dip in the Hotel Pool—Finally! Sundowners on the Mara; Birthday Celebrations in our Group.

Wednesday, July 16, 2025

Day Six of Our East African Safari

b>A Day of Devastating Disasters; Hopes of Seeing The Great Migration; At the No-Crossing Kenya-Tanzania Border; A Trek Along the River Sand; A Refreshing Dip in the Hotel Pool—Finally! Sundowners on the Mara; Birthday Celebrations in our Group.

Please bear with me as this is an exceptionally lengthy blog post—but you will see that we had a most unusual day--one that cannot be captured or convey in just a few words.)

Breakfst at the Mara Maisha Tented Camp::

Another dawn broke on the Mara and we were up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, to enjoy it. In my determination to eat a different breakfast each morning, I opted for French Toast today. Douzed with maple syrup and a generous sprinkling of flaked almond and whole roasted peanuts, it made for a fancy-schmancy platter. To accompany it, I chose something I had seen often on the breakfast buffet table: African baked beans in coconut sauce. As opposed to the small white baked beans in tomato sauce—a staple of the British Breakfast Buffet—this one uses red kidney beans (rajma) cooked in a thick coconut broth. It was creamy and very tasty indeed. For the next couple of days, these became my breakfast beans of choice. I also selected a single pork sausage, sauteed mushrooms and finished off with a lovely strawberry milk shake. You cannot say that we did not eat exceedingly well on this trip (and the weighing scale would cruelly prove that, once we reached home).

What is the Great Migration?

was the day for which I had waited during the entire safari. We were finally at the spot, closest to the Mara River, where it was likely the migrating animals would cross to get to the other side.

what is this Great Migration all about? For the uninitiated, it is an annual pilgrimage undertaken by almost two million wildebeest (and much fewer zebras) during the months July-September. They leave the hot and dry Serengetti (in Tanzania) behind them and make the long journey towards the more forgiving, lush grasslands of the Maasai Mara. The journey covers 500-800 miles each way. Yes, once accomplished, they have to undertake the return journey all over again. Because if they are fortunate enough to arrive safely in the Mara, where they spend 2-3 months, they are then faced with the prospect of returning to Tanzania in October.

In the process of migrating, they become easy targets for a number of predators such as cheetahs, leopards and lions, not to mention scavenging hyenas and vultures who feed on their cadavers. It is deeply moving to see thousands of beasts move in uniform lines together, using instinct that takes them along age-old migrating routes with only their survival instinct to guide them. During the long weeks that involve endless walking, they keep up their strength by grazing non-stop, their heads always bent, their mouths always churning.

They also need to keep a careful eye out for predators as danger is always lurking right behind them. All this movement, over hundreds of miles is, of course, bound to tire them out. And so they stop frequently for long rests when they simply plop down on the plain and remain immobile for hours at a stretch. Once their strength is renwed, they move on again. It takes only a slight movement from anyone who chooses to lead the group, to get up and start moving again, to pick up the pace, or to break into a run. And when this happens, following the instinctive herd mentality, the rest of the group play ‘Follow the Leader’. This is when the spectacle of catching them running like fugitives across the plains is at its most thrilling. Not to mention the possibility of catching them in the act of jumping into the swirling river waters of the Mara, wading bravely through the currents, getting covered with mud and slime from the effort and avoiding, like the plague, the slyly camouflaged crocodiles that seemingly float like logs along the length of the river, looking for their own sustenance. Nature is cruel and the race for survival can be painful and fatal. But it can also be fascinating—which is why thousands of human visitors also converge on the Mara to witness this phenomenon.

Off to See the Great Migration:

Today was also the day that some members of our group decided to pay $450 per head to experience a Hot Air Balloon Ride over the Mara. They had left early in the morning and were ferried to the spot where they would take off for a ride in the skies, an opportunity to view the great sprawling plains beneath them (often studded with herds of animals—often not) and then to sit and enjoy a luxurious Bush Breakfast that included champagne, mimosas and Bloody Marys.

The group that left our hotel after breakfast for the game ride was, therefore, smaller. In our van, we had Yair (whose wife, Nama had chosen to take the balloon ride while he had opted out). Doreen and John chose to ride in another van. We were, therefore, Yair, Albin and Louella, Llew and me in our van today with Amani, our Tour Director whom, I understand, had been sharing his presence among the various vans each day and entertaining passengers with his advanced knowledge.

I thought it was a real privilege to have Amani with us this morning because, if there was anyone capable of helping us identify the spot at which the beasts would make the river crossing, he, with his 17 years of tourism experience, was likely to know it. As we set off from the hotel gates, we requested him, as he was sitting in the passenger seat, besides our driver Steve, to take a selfie of all of us and this he did. In that picture, the last in which he is on duty with our group, he is seen smiling before disaster struck. Yes, he looks relaxed and happy—with no clue at all of what lay ahead. He asked us what our expectation was for the day and I told him I would kill to see the wildebeest fording the river and attempting to get safely on to the other side. That, he told me, was a dream. It was the last words he would speak to us.

Disaster Strikes Our Tour Guide:

Not even ten minutes after our conversation, Llew and I (who were sitting directly behind him and the our driver) noticed that Amani had started dozing off. We were driving towards the most likely Migration site and he suddenly nodded off. Believing that he was catching up on his sleep (the poor man was probably the last to fall asleep at night and the first to awake each day), we fully understood his need to get some rest. Steve, our driver, sitting right by him also thought he was dozing.

But after five minutes, Louella asked Amani a question. Why are there so many vans congregated there, she asked. No response. We let it pass. Two minutes later, she asked again. Amani, do you think there is something important happening there? No answer. Steve now nudged Amani in the ribs in order to wake him up from his slumber. No change. In fact, Amani’s body was now sliding towards the driver’s steering wheel. He was inert. Steve realized that he was not well. He pulled the van over to the side of the road. Louella immediately wanted to know why we were stopping. Steve told her that Amani was not feeling well.

Now it so happened that Louella is a physician—a pediatrician but a doctor, nevertheless. Her husband Albin told her to rush and find out what was going on. She jumped up from her seat, jumped down from the van and rushed to Amani. How fortuitous was it that we actually had a doctor in our van? She called out to him repeatedly but he was not conscious. He is unconscious, she declared. He is probably having a seizure, she said. Or probably even a mild stroke.

By this time, other vehicles behind us and those going in the opposite direction also stopped, in the established tradition of drivers halting to investigate and offer help to stranded vehicles. When they noticed that we were dealing with a medical crisis, they offered to lift Aman out of the vehicle and place him on the grass on the side of the road. Louella suggested his legs be raised up to enable blood to flow to his brain. Llew remembered that we had the plastic stair stepper in the back of the van. He rushed to produce it. This was placed under Amani’s legs to elevate them. A blanket was placed around him. He remained unconscious. Someone produced a bottle of water and several drops were sprinkled on his head. I produced wet wipes from my bag to wipe his brow. He regained consciousness for a few seconds but could not respond to Louella’s questions. When he did try to speak, only guttural sounds emerged from his throat. Then he fell unconscious again. It had not been easy to lift Amani out of the van. He is a big, strapping, heavy black African man and he was dead weight. It was only the assistance of all the vehicle drivers (who had stopped to help) that had enabled him to be moved.

Now, one of those drivers stepped forward and suggested he be taken to a hospital speedily as it was very obvious he needed emergency medical attention. Louella agreed. Of course, it was our vehicle that would have to take him to the hospital as there was no other spare vehicle to do the deed. This meant that our progression towards the Migration Site was well and truly stalled. I must admit that my first reaction was to feel bitterly disappointed at the turn of events. But then my better sense prevailed and I realized that life was more important than the sight of migrating beasts. The drivers assisted and, once again, Amani was placed in a seat behind the passenger seat near Steve. He was still unconscious. However, they had managed to place the seat in a complete reclining position and his legs were placed at a higher incline. With Amani lying down in this position, Steve raced towards the hospital

I had no idea where the hospital was. Going by John’s experience, I believed we’d have to return to Nairobi—a good six hours away. Steve talked about dropping us off at our hotel and then proceeding with Amani to the hospital. But then he seemed to have a brainwave. He remembered that there was a hospital at Talek, the small village that we’d keep passing by on our way in and out of our hotel. That place could be reached in about twenty minutes, With Steve stepping on the gas, we reached in 15 minutes. The staff were alerted immediately that we had an emergency case in our van and, to my utmost surprise, within minutes, they produced a number of personnel who brought out a stretcher and, while struggling with the dead weight that was Amani, managed to get him from the van seat to the stretcher. About ten minutes later, Amani was in Triage.

For the next hour or so, we sat outside in the waiting room, storming heaven and sweating bullets. I had alerted Ralph, one of my fellow-travelers, to the nature of our crisis. He suggested I send out a message to the whole group on our Whatsapp mode so that they were all aware of the situation and could start praying for Amani. This I did. So, by the time, Amani was receiving emergency medical services, our entire group was made aware of the crisis and were sending encouraging messages back. The Talek hospital, by the way, was a Pre-natal and Maternity Home, not a full-strength medical facility—but it was certainly capable of providing Emergency medical services.

While Amani was in Triage, we, the passengers of the Van, sat quietly so as not to add to the confusion. We noticed that there were three Maasai women sitting calmly on a bench in front of us. It turned out that they were there to await the birth of a baby as one of their relatives was in the Maternity Room in labor. They did not have to wait long, it seemed.

In the meanwhile, our driver Steve came splendidly into his own. He was able to answer questions of the consulting physician on duty, Dr. Angela, a smart black African woman, who needed Amani’s personal details. On going through Amani’s backpack, which was in our van, Steve procured his passport and his personal details were obtained—age (49), nationality (Tanzanian), address (a home base in Arusha). We also found a massive amount of medication which was also turned over to Dr. Angela. Amani’s pressure was taken as soon as he entered the hospital and it was conveyed to us that it was exceedingly high—220 over 116. Immediate attempts were made to bring it down. Meanwhile, the hospital personnel consulted with Steve and recommended that Amani be air-lifted immediately to Nairobi to a facility where he would get much better treatment. Without wasting any time, the airstrip closest to Talek was contacted and it was established that there was a small plane going to Nairobi in less than an hour. The hospital personnel decided to prepare Amani for transfer to the plane and then to the hospital. At Nairobi airport, personnel from the Aga Khan Hospital there would be waiting to receive him and would rush him over to their emergency unit.

Another Medical Episode:

we were all caught up in the drama of Amani’s catastrophe, Llew went and sat down on another bench, very quietly. After a few minutes, he beckoned me forward and whispered to me that he was not feeling well either. After I asked him what was wrong, he said he felt extremely weak and a bit giddy. Louella immediately called for the blood pressure machine to be brought out. She made him lie down on the bench and, a few minutes later, a nurse brought out a portable machine. They took his pressure and discovered that it had plummeted. The nurse wanted to put an IV into his arm immediately to supply him instantly with fluids. But Louella realized that he was perfectly capable of sipping water himself. She produced an ice-cold fresh bottle of water from the car and for the next 15 minutes, Llew sipped it slowly. After a while, he started to feel much better. That dizzy spell had passed away completely. Louella suspected that it had been brought on by the shock and anxiety of what we had gone through over a particularly harrowing morning.

, in the Pre-Natal Room, the Maasai baby was born, She was a beautiful, little girl and was shrouded immediately in a tiny red Maasai blanket. We were simply delighted to see her cuddled in her grandmother’s arms. What a morning! Amani’s stroke, Llew’s dizziness and the birth of a new human being. It was all a bit surreal!

How did it compare with sitting by a river bank waiting for wildebeest to cross over? Well, there is simply no comparison. We had all been party to the saving of a human life and, for as long as I live, I will never forget the sense of accomplishment I felt on knowing that our decision and actions had been life-saving. I may never meet Amani ever again, as our paths may never cross…but his spirit will always be with me and he will always remain in my prayers.

an hour later, after Amani had been stabilized (although his pressure still remained dangerously high), Steve and the hospital personnel put him into our van and drove him off to the airstrip for his flight to Nairobi. Meanwhile, Steve had contacted another driver called Nixon who was instructed to bring a van to pick us up from the hospital and take us back into the Bush so that we could carry on with our safari. It was about 10.30am by this point. Amani’s stroke had occurred at 8.15 am. So, we had lost a little more than two hours; but Nixon told us he would take us to where the rest of our group was. Before we left the hospital, we took a photograph with our angel, Dr. Angela (so appropriately named!), who had treated Amani. Then, we stopped at the Talek gas station so that Nixon could fill gas and were off.

Our Morning’s Safari Drive Continues:

En route to meeting our group, we passed by a vast number of topi and eland, zebras and antelopes. But, eventually, Nixon received word that another lion had been sighted. He raced to the spot and we were able to glimpse a massive male with a beautiful mane, fast asleep in a small grassy ditch in the midst of a vast flat plain. It always amazed how who had or how such sleeping (and well-concealed) animals were spotted by these trackers. It’s almost as if they have sixth sense when it comes to nosing out big cats for our viewing pleasure. Of course, there were at least six other vans (not from our group) that also arrived on the scene and as Nixon circled the ditch, I was able to get some really lovely pictures of the snoozing animal.

A Feast for Vultures:

A little later, after we’d moved away from this spot, Nixon saw a vast number of vultures encircling the skies above. He guessed immediately that there was a kill somewhere around upon which they would be feasting. Following his own instincts, he took us off road and led us into a grassy area where we saw a Marabou stork and then another and then another. Loads of them came swooping out of the air, seemingly from nowhere, and made a graceful landing in our vicinity. And then, just ahead of us, in a clearing, we spied a vulture feeding upon the head of a Cape Buffalo. Clearly another animal had decapitated the buffalo and dragged its head alone to this spot. After it had eaten its fill, it was left to the vultures to pick at the bones. We got many great pictures of this awesome sight.

At the Non-Crossing Kenya-Tanzania Border:

After we left the scavenging birds behind, Nixon drove us to another spot. We saw many vans headed in the same direction and believed there was another significant sighting. But no…this time we were headed to a landmark spot: the non-crossing border between Tanzania and Kenya. This simply meant that, on a map, this spot would be one at which the two countries merged. Nobody was allowed to venture over into the Tanzania side. While there was a very nondescript sign saying, “International Boundary—No Entry Into Tanzania”, the point was marked by the skeleton of the head of a Cape Buffalo with its magnificent set of horns. Every tourist was pausing there to pose for pictures and Llew and I did so too.

But the really more meaningful spot was just a few feet ahead of us. A more permanent, concrete signpost had been built in a tri-corner position with a step upon which tourists could pose. It clearly demarcated the border between Kenya and Tanzania with KE written on one side and TZ on the other. We placed ourselves in such a way that Llew was in Kenya and I was in Tanzania in exactly the same moment!

Gimmicks like these make great travel photo ops and we have stood in many such venues through the thousands of miles of international travel we have done. For example, we stood at the Cape of Good Hope (the lowest point on the African Continent). I have stood at Cabo da Roca (or Cape Roca) in Portugal, the most western point of the European Continent. We have stood at the spot where Route 1 begins in Maine and where it ends in the Florida Everglades at Key West. Llew and I have stood at Mile Zero in Nagpur, which is exactly at the center point of the Indian sub-continent. We have stood astride the Prime Meridian in Greenwich, outside London, UK and have also stood astride the Equator in Quito, Ecuador, South America. A few months ago, we were at the border crossing between India and Bangladesh and were able to stand at signs that said ‘Welcome to India’ on one side and ‘Welcome to Bangladesh’ on the other. When in Turkey and crossing over the Bosporus Bridge, we had passed by signs that said, “Welcome to Asia” while, on the other side, there was a similar sign that said, “Welcome to Europe’ because when you are in Turkey, you are in two continents at the same time. Really exciting of all was being at Four Corners, USA—the point at which four states meet: Colorado, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico. We placed one hand in each of two states and one foot in each of the other two. So, at the same moment, we were present in four American states simultaneously! And just a few days ago, we had passed through Arusha in Tanzania, which is supposed to be the absolute central point of Africa—it is exactly equidistant from Cairo in Egypt (Northern Africa) and Cape Town in South Africa. The clock tower in Arusha marks the exact point of this intersection. This sort of thing has always been great fun for me. The geography buff in me is always excited at the prospect of these landmarks.

A Walk on the Wild Side—Along the Banks of the River Sand:

This fun tangential excursion done, we were taken by Nixon to yet another spot. We’d have the opportunity to actually get off our van and trek along the banks of the River Sand. First off, it might not seem such an exciting prospect. But then Nixon explained that the river is alive with wildlife and we’d see a whole lot.

However, no one is allowed to wander in this area unescorted. Nixon, therefore, asked us if we wished to hire a Ranger to guide us on a walk along the river banks. Of course, we agreed. We asked how much it would cost us and were told that the Ranger’s services were free of charge, but we were free to tip him as we saw fit. Accordingly, we were approached by a tall and most imposing black African man who told us his name was Ranger Rama. He assembled our little group together, just past the parking lot, and led us to a series of animal head skeletons on the ground. He then pointed out to them and named their species: antelope, gazelle, wart hog, rhino and, finally, Cape Buffalo. From this point, we could also see that directly across the river were a whole slew of hippos wallowing in the water. Most of them were immobile, not a muscle moving along the shallow banks. Others were sunbathing at the water’s edge. I asked the Ranger if this spot was in the Migration Path. But he said, No. The animals cross the Mara River, he said, not the Sand. And then our walk began.

For the next fifteen minutes, he led us along a narrow and very rocky path, past low-growing bushes. At various points, he would stop to point out juvenile crocodiles on the opposite bank. They too were motionless, enjoying the warmth of a very sunny day. As he led us in a neat crocodile through the path, he told us that we had many breathtaking sights in store. And we discovered that these took the form of gigantic crocodiles on the same bank as we were but way below us. They were really humongous and I have to say I remembered the crocodiles we had seen in Queensland, Australia, along the Daintree River. Those were actually in the river with us (we were in boats and were strictly instructed to keep our hands out of the water!). We also saw crocodiles in Meghalaya in India and in Costa Rica along the Rio Negro. But, I have to say that these crocodiles really awed me. It was their size—they were long, huge and fat. Rama told us that this particular one had actually eaten a baby hippo and would take about three months to finish digesting it—during which period it would not need to hunt or consume any food at all! Wow! This explained its exceptional size. After we’d taken a bunch of pictures of crocodiles on both sides of the river, we made our way back to the parking lot with Rama where we posed for more pictures. This was the only opportunity we had to take a nature walk on foot and it was a novel and very interesting concept.

Heading Towards the Migration Venues

And then Nixon received word from someone that we could possibly catch some of the migrating zebras and wildebeest. He did not say anything to us (as he probably did not want to disappoint us). But he merely put his vehicle in gear, left the site of the sunbathing hippos and crocodiles and headed in the direction of the migrating animals.

About fifteen minutes later, we were on a massive plain punctuated only occasionally by a lone acacia tree. Just ahead of us, we saw hundreds of zebras hidden by the tall grass. There were at least five hundred of them in the group—yes, when they are found in such numbers, they are part of the migrating hordes. But Nixon wanted to give us more. He drove ahead and reached the base of a low hill. Ahead of us, we could see another safari van mounting the hill. Clearly, the driver of this van had the same idea. If we parked at a height, on top of the hill, we’d have a panoramic view of the plains ahead from a height. If wildebeest passed in this direction, we’d be able to see them in their thousand.

And that was precisely what happened. As we waited in our parked vehicle, the herds of wildebeest came trundling along slowly. And then, as if sensing that they were in a good spot, they stopped. There were at least a couple of thousands of them spread out before us—several hundred clustered together, a small gap in which zebras loitered, and then another several hundred in another tight group. They had stopped to take a rest but were undecided about whether to stay at this spot and rest or whether to proceed. Were they to stay, they would have plonked down. As it was, they remained standing. Some of thenm loitered desultorily around. In the zoom lens of my phone-camera, some of them appear right in front of me, only a few feet away.

Then, a few of the zebras began running together in one direction but the wildebeest did not follow. They were probably much too tired and needed rest. At any rate, as far as our eyes could see, from our heightened vantage point, the plains were covered with animals. We were right in the midst of the Great Migration although we were not besides any of the river banks.

A few minutes later, Nixon drove us downhill and brought our van to a halt right in the thick of the migrating hordes. Now, these thousands of animals were only a few feet away from us. I tried to use my camera to be able to convey the vast numbers in front of us and stretching out for what seemed like miles in the distance; but I seriously do not think that our pictures or my video do any justice to the phenomenon.

I had to pinch myself to believe that I was witnessing this occurrence. It left me speechless. Just imagine, if you can, miles of low grass plains covered with large animals, all moving in the same direction and then coming to a long halt in one massive group? It simply defies description.

With our day not completely wasted and having seen much of what our other group members had covered, Nixon brought us back to our hotel. No, the ‘dream’ of which Amani had spoken did not quite come true. We did not see the wildebeest crossing the Mara (I am told by friends that we were there too early in the season and ought to have been there at the end of August, if we hoped to see these scenes). But, what we did do was bear witness to the mesmerizing movement of animals that occurs once a year in this most amazing part of the globe.

Lunch and a Refreshing Swim in the Hotel Pool:

We returned to the hotel in time for lunch which was one of those lavish buffet samplers that offers everyone something to suit their palates. As this was one of the first days during which we were actually at the hotel in the afternoon, a few of us decided to go to the pool for a swim. And that was exactly was Doreen. John, Em, Jude, Louella, Albin, Llew and I did. I think Gino too took a dip. The water was delightfully cool on the warm afternoon and we frolicked about wishing we could have stayed longer. Alas, we had to move on after half an hour as we had to shower, dress and get ready for the next item on our agenda: Sundowners!

Sundowners on the Mara

Another half hour later, we had piled into our vans and were ferried off to a vast clearing on the plains where we found tables set up with an array of colored drinks. A large bonfire stood in the center flanked by two Maasai warriors. Johnson, one of the tour drivers, who took charge in Amani’s place, welcomed us to Sundowners--a term coined by the British, during their colonial rule of Kenya, for the drinks that were sipped as the sun set on the Mara. I noticed that set off from the colored drinks in small juice glasses was a full bar. Johnson explained that while the non-alcoholic colored drinks were free of charge, we’d have to pay for any alcoholic beverages of our choice. I believe some folks ordered beer. But a range of cocktail smacks were also available, free of charge, and these were lined up to consume: roasted peanuts, mandazi (like beignets), rock cakes, fresh fruit—water melon, passion fruit—chocolate cake, more fresh fruit—pineapple and orange segments—chicken wings and meatballs with barbecue sauce. It was a time of great fun and much laughter as we posed with the obliging Maasai warriors around the fire as singles, couples and in unruly groups—a bit like herding (wild) cats! But finally, we took our fill of pictures before the sun disappeared over the horizon altogether at the end of another day. We’d had our fair share of adventures and were ready to call it a night.

Then, to our astonishment, one of our drivers told us that they could hear lions roaring—they were not sure exactly where—and they wanted all of us back in our vans again. We duly complied and, ten minutes later, with the sun having set, we began our drive to our hotel.

Spying a Lion on the Mara:

But no sooner were on our merry way homewards than our drivers made a detour: yes, they were not mistaken into thinking they had heard lions roar. One of them was right in our vicinity and then, before we could say ‘King of the Jungle’, there he was: coming right towards us, as if with a purpose, was this magnificent male. It seemed that he was hungry, but male lions are very lazy and will only hunt if they are starving. They wait for the females in their pride to do the hunting before they sit down, like lords of the manor, to feast on the spoils. This grand guy took his time circling our vans and then scooted off into the distance. We got our pictures and another Close Encounter of the Big Cat Kind

Please...…No More Adventures…

Well, off we went. It was dark now and we were about thirty minutes away from our hotel. That’s when our driver Steve noticed that the van in front of him was wobbling. He rather suspected “a slow puncture” and did not think it was safe for passengers to move forward on such dodgy wheels. He communicated with the driver ahead of him and offered to stop to help him change his tire.

And so, a few minutes later, we were all pulling up on the side of the road in the pitch darkness while lions roamed and roared on the Mara. Steve, our driver, positioned his van in such a way that our headlights illuminated the flat tire of the van in front of us. And then, being the skillful, resourceful men they are, the drivers used large stones they found on the wayside, to buoy up the van and used their jack and spare tire to get the job done. Another twenty minutes later, while we watched with bated breath, hoping they did not find themselves in the open air staring into the roaring face of a lion, the tire was swapped and the safari van procession moved on. Phew!

Dinner and Birthday Celebrations at our Hotel:

By this point in the day, I was seriously looking to quell any further excitement—we’d had enough! So, when we assembled in our dining tent to attack the buffet, I sat with a bowl of Carrot soup with croutons and another little plate of salad. That was seriously all I wanted to eat having made quite a meal of our Sundowner snacks. Of course, I did not pass up on dessert: there was a Chocolate Pudding with Custard Sauce and Mandazi (Bread) Pudding with Caramel Sauce.

And just when we thought we could quickly slip away to the quiet of our tent, one of those boisterous Birthday Processions emerged from the kitchen—and guess that? This time the lucky recipient of that frosted birthday cake with candles at the head of the winding staff crocodile was a member from our own group—Sandy. She noticed that there were two names on the cake. The other was Doreen’s. And so Doreen, who was hugely surprised by the fanfare, was summoned from a nearby table and asked to stand besides Sandy while everyone sang for them. It was Sandy’s birthday a while ago and Doreen’s more than three months ago—which made me wonder why I did not get a similar celebration as mine had been only a day before our safari began! But, I guess we had not informed Amani of our interest in being felicitated in this way! At any rate, slices of a lovely red velvet cake were then distributed to the members of our group—but most of us were simply too stuffed by this point to enjoy it.

And on that happy note, we made our way to our tent for a peaceful night’s sleep. We had gone through more adventures that one day than most people have on an entire safari. But we would not change these experiences for anything. To have been instrumental in the saving of a life, to have seen new Maasai life come into this world, to have stood in the thick of the Great Migration, to have come face-to-face with a single lion, to have witnessed automotive repair on the Mara with the ever-present danger of being attacked by wild cats, was simply too much to take in for one day. We went to bed with a prayer on our lips for Amani and his full recovery, for Steve and everyone else who had salvaged the day and for the continued success of our safari.

Until tomorrow, Hakuna Matata (No Troubles, No Worries).

Day Five of Our East African Safari: Leaving Nairobi After Breakfast; Six-Hour Drive to the Maasai Mara; Arrival at Mara Maisha Tented Camp; First Game Drive in the Mara; Dinner at Mara Maisha.

Tuesday, July 15, 2025

Day Five of Our East African Safari

Leaving Nairobi After Breakfast; Six-Hour Drive to the Maasai Mara; Arrival at Mara Maisha Tented Camp; First Game Drive in the Mara; Dinner at Mara Maisha.

Breakfast of Champions at the Hyatt Regency Hotel in Nairobi Westlands:

Of all the hotels at which we stayed on this trip, the Hyatt Regency at Nairobi Westlands was, in my humble opinion, simply the best! For one thing, it had this gigantic TV screen which enabled us to finally catch up on international news after living in a Safari Bubble for almost a week. Secondly, it had decaff coffee sachets in the tea/coffee station in each room (how thoughtful and considerate is that?). Thirdly, while I am usually not one to wax eloquent about hotel breakfast buffets, this place had the most magnificent breakfast ever—with smoked salmon (one of my favorite things in the world to eat) and real, genuine, Parisian-style croissants and pain au chocolat (which is to say, they were not just bread rolls shaped like croissants, but the real thing, complete with glazed lamination)! No marks for guessing that we ate really well. My travel-companions had saved their decaff sachets for me, as requested, and for the rest of our breakfast, they came trooping to our table carrying the precious sachets in their hands and depositing them with me. Suffice it to say that we had enough decaff coffee to cure the insomniacs in us for the rest of our trip—maybe for the rest of our lives!

Being spoiled for choice, I made a ‘no-carbs at brekkie’ exception to my own rule and helped myself to a small croissant, a small helping of scrambled eggs (they were soft and creamy--the way I like them), baked beans, half a grilled tomato, a pork sausage, rolls of smoked salmon and some orange juice. Yummy! It was perhaps one of my most enjoyable breakfasts. It was good to have John and Doreen join us at our table and to obtain more tidbits from them about their adventures in Nairobi. And as if this bounty were inadequate, Amani came around to our tables and told us (after we’d had our fill) that we were welcome to help ourselves to a take-out snack or sandwich—one or two for the road! Boy oh boy! Were we thrilled! It would save us the agony of another packed lunch!

Did we just swoop on the buffet once again? Yes, Sirree Bob! Did those croissants and pain au chocolat just fly off those shelves? You bet! Miraculously, the hotel provided us with brown paper take-out bags! Can you imagine anything more thoughtful? Never, ever, in my experience with buffets was such generosity in evidence. Needless to say, we did not have to be told twice. I fixed myself two smoked salmon sandwiches in croissants–even including some slices of raw onion from the salad bar. Llew, who does not eat fish, was presented by me with two ham and cheese croissant sandwiches which I fixed for him. I saw folks help themselves to madeleines (yes, the buffet carried those) and financiers (yes, we could have been in a patisserie/boulangerie in the South of France) and every conceivable kind of mini bread roll. We were like kids in a candy shop!

Passing by the large picture windows—for we were on the eighth floor of a high-rise building—I had great views of the Westlands area of Nairobi—I stopped to admire the view of other skyscrapers surrounding our building and I took a few photographs. Then, it was time for us to pile into our transport for another long ride—for we were headed to another highlight of our travels—a stint in the Maasai Mara.

Just before we boarded our vehicle, however, I remember that it was my brother Russel’s Birthday. Using our international calling plan, I was able to call him in Bombay and both Llew and I were able to wish him well and tell him that we were thinking of him and praying for his health and happiness. It was already 11.30 am in Bombay and my cousin, Linnet and her mother Ruby, his other cousins Meera and Ashley had, upon my request, gone over this place with a cake. There, they sang a ‘Happy Birthday’ to him as he cut his cake and blew his candle and made him feel very special indeed. I felt very sorry that we had missed his birthday, but to make up for it, we had organized a party for him, a few days before our departure on this safari. That sufficed to keep him happy and with relatives and guests trooping into his home on his birthday itself, he was a very happy camper.

Long Drive from Nairobi to the Maasai Mara:

Our morning’s drive from Nairobi to the Mara was a huge study in contrasts. As we passed through the urban heart of Kenya’s most populous city, Nairobi, we had glimpses of the daily routine of Kenyans. The industrious working set were out in droves, well-dressed in professional garb, for the start of their day. Public transport, in the form of local buses, were packed, commuters crammed inside like in a sardine can, strap-hangers swaying. Streets were simply filled with people, walking purposefully towards their destinations or standing at bus-stops in a disorderly crowd waiting to board local buses. Vendors, their wares spread all over the pavements, were setting up for the day as they sold cheap clothing and footwear. There were large bill-boards on the roads advertising everything from telecommunications packages like Airtel’s services to KFC’s meal deals. Buses honked, brakes screeched, people dodged traffic as they crossed busy streets, regardless of traffic light controls. Yes, indeed, all the confusion and assault on the senses that one associates with Third World cities anywhere in the world—at least the one’s I’ve visited--(Cairo, Fez, Bangkok, Calcutta, Bombay) was evident everywhere. In fact, downtown Nairobi reminded me of Bombay as it had been about thirty years ago (i.e. before the great Economic Revolution for re-development of the late, former Prime Minister and economist, Dr. Manmohan Singh, that had taken the country from a socialist model to a quasi-capitalist one). I was really really happy to receive this glimpse into the city (because, upon our return to Nairobi), we would be skirting around the most exclusive, affluent, former colonialist parts of the city, such as Karen, which were completely different from the chaos of this average, everyday world.

Gradually, passing under lofty flyovers (again, similar to Bombay in its current avatar), we made our way out of the city, flying through the suburbs on terrific tarmac roads. We were making our way into the beating rural heartland of Kenya and to do this, we had to pass through the scenic Rift Valley.

Pausing at the Spectacular Rift Valley for Photo Ops:

The Rift Fault, by the way, runs through the backbone of Kenya and Tanzania and makes the region susceptible to the earth’s tremors. This accounts for the sudden appearance of the single mountain—Kilimanjaro—and the vast crater surrounding the caldera of Ngorongoro. It has given its name to the range of low mountains that surround the suburbs and, in the post-monsoon season, the area remains lush, verdant and inviting. In the higher reaches, the air is delightfully nippy and pleasantly clean, free from the urban pollution of motor vehicles.

We stopped in a particularly appealing bend in the road in the Rift Valley to take pictures. It allowed us to stretch our legs and take in some of the most visually charming sights in the valley below, basking in anemic sunshine: fields and farms and occasional farm houses and barns. In couples or in snug groups, we posed for pictures, our drivers obligingly playing photographers or posing with us. Maasai huts lined the road selling the usual tourist tat and a few of us inspected the goods. There were a lot of sheep skin throws and sheep skin hats as well as cow hide floor coverings. We looked at small piles of local fruits and vegetables (loads of corn on the cob—the depleted stalks make excellent cattle food) that are regularly consumed by the local population, most of whom are Maasai nomadic cowherds.

And so we inched deeper into the rural territory. Yes, we did make a few rest room stops, every two hours, at the highway shops-cum-restaurants-cum-restrooms that allow travelers to find relief. They are usually clean enough, offer running water and toilet paper amenities (although no paper towels to wipe hands) and are uniformly well-maintained. But, I have to say that as we passed by small towns, looking at ordinary people going about their daily activity—filling gas at pumps, buying large bags of oranges or onions--I was struck by the names of the shops and business establishments. They were quite comical, some of them (Bless this Shop was one; this Blessed Shop was another; Get Well Clinic was a third). Stray dogs were evident (another Third World appendage), pools in potholes (yet another one) and make-shift stalls sold wares on the pavement.

It was very clear to us when we were nearing Maasai Country. The scenes changed dramatically. Hundreds of heads of cattle (cows and goats) walked alongside our vans on the roads, led by shepherds of varying age. But all of them wore the distinctive red Maasai blankets and carried shepherd’s staff--which are certainly their signature trademark. Wide open expanses of field and farm came into view as agriculture and animal husbandry are their chief forms of livelihood. That, and selling and making tourist trinkets (bead jewelry, wood carvings, paintings). Homes became far less permanent. Most looked like tin or asbestos shanties, rudimentary in the extreme. Steve informed me that the Maasai receiuve large government subsidies as they are the original owners of the land but find its maintenance taxing. They are extraordinarily insular in their customs and behavior and brook no interference in their traditional ways of life. Hence, they are treated with kid gloves. Over the years, the Maasai have come to realize how lucrative their unique culture can be—foreign tourists lap up the opportunity to visit their villages, to interact with them and pose for pictures, to watch them whoop and dance in customary fashion—all for a price, of course, We were told to pay $25 per head for the privilege. But the plan was cancelled for want of takers from our group.

Yes, we did feast on our sandwiches—kind courtesy of Hyatt--in the van. Someone pulled out a bag of crisps, another munched on an apple. And so, hunger pangs were kept at bay and we did not feel the need to make a stop for lunch. And after what seemed like an interminably long time, our drive ended and we were entering the property called Mara Maisha Tented Camp.

Checking Into and Having Lunch at Mara Maisha Safari Camp:

The owners of Mara Maisha Safari Camp are the same ones who own the Kibo Safari Camp at Amboseli. The layout of their establishment is identical—both outside and in our individual tents, capped with rustic thatched roofs. We were presented with a hot towel and a cold Welcome Drink at the entrance as the tedious task of giving us room keys and taking our baggage to our rooms commenced. By this point in time, we were pros at the process, but we were also pretty fed up with the frequent changes in accommodation. One of the greatest aspects of our prior safari, in South Africa’s Kruger National Park, ten years ago, was that we had checked into one camp (Hamilton Tented Camp) and had stayed put there for a whole week. This eliminated the tedium of checking in and out every single night.

Llew and I were led to our villa which was so far away from the main Reception tent that I almost believed the two of us were camping out on the Mara! (Not surprising that I heard lions roar at night and woke Llew up to hear them too). Here too, we loved the manner in which local materials (sand, stone, terracotta) were incorporated into the architectural design of the space. Little toadstools, studded with black basaltic stone, led us into our tent. But all we could do was have a really lightning lie-down and use the toilet before we were expected to return to the Lobby for lunch and the start of our next game drive.

Yes, lunch we did eat—it was a very late lunch but riding in a safari van for hours on end whets one’s appetite! The buffet was still open at the Dining Hall and we ate well. Soup and salad always do the trick. With our bellies satisfied, we trooped back into our vans for our next game drive. This time John and Doreen left us to ride in another van and Em and Jude joined us in ours. This drive would be on the Mara itself. And oh my! What a game drive it turned out to be!!! We won the safari lottery with the big cats!

Stalking Big Cats on the Mara:

Our drive started off tamely enough. We passed by herds of antelope, impalas and wart hogs. There were also dozens of zebra everywhere we looked. By this point in the game (hunt), these animals had lost their novelty and we no longer went crazy with our cameras.

However, very shortly, word got out that a pride of lions had been spied. And so the mad race to catch a glimpse of them before they sauntered off, began. Steve stepped on the gas on the long, winding, bumpy, dusty roads with us hanging on for dear life. Radio communication brought the other vans in our party to the same spot and then, hey presto, there it was. At first, all we could see was a lone lioness walking rather restlessly about ten meters away from us. Yes, we did keep safe distance as she was clearly on the prowl. Once we followed her movements, however, we made the charming discovery that there were two more felines lazing in the shade of some low-growing shrubs. They turned out to be a mother and her cub, lying side by side, trying hard to ignore our presence. There was another safari van that was much closer to the pride—Steve told us that these vans are especially equipped to handle the needs of professional international photographers who pay handsomely for government permission to go off road and get close-up shots of the creatures.

We got our fair share of photographs too—albeit from a greater distance. The mother stretched occasionally, threw her head back and yawned lazily—allowing us to get some really terrific action shots. The cub remained motionless for most of the time. The other lioness continued her aimless strolls, back and forth. All the while, our van drivers changed position to enable us to get better shots of them. But although we stayed there for almost half an hour, it was clear that the family did not intend to budge from their cool spot and after a while, we moved on.

Then Along Came the Show-Off Cheetah:

Our scouring of the plain continued. Rhinos had still remained elusive and as we were nearing the end of our safari drives, all of us kept wishing we’d hit the lucky jackpot and find them, sooner or later. And then just as these thoughts were invading our minds, Steve received word that a cheetah had been sighted. So, it was time to go out in search of him.

Another mad, tearing drive brought us to a flat clearing, almost entirely devoid of vegetation. And then, after we’d inched closer, we caught sight of him—this splendid, dotted creature whose antennae were clearly on alert. We followed his glance and saw that his sights were set on a pair of Thompson’s gazelles, in the distance. The cheetah was very clearly on the hunt. He was probably hungry and trying to figure out how he could get as close as possible and as stealthily as possible to his prey, without alerting the gazelles to its presence. He started to move in classic predatory fashion, one small, sly step forward at a time.

But then, to his annoyance, he found that his progress towards his target was entirely thwarted by the fact that our vans had fully encircled him and blocked his chosen path. The poor creature had no straight course to his gazelle. He looked around him in frustration, trying to find a spot through which he could squeeze to get past our vans and over on to the other side of our circle. Of course, this was all high-quality drama for us. But, by being so close to the animal, we had deprived ourselves of one of the rarest safari sightings ever—a predator moving in for the kill and grabbing its prey. Had we seen this, we’d have hit pure safari gold.

But no, we would not have that thrill. We had jeopardized our own joy. The cheetah walked with royal and slow splendor along the flat, grassless plain in front of us. And then, as if to taunt us, he came to the very wheels of two vans that were standing, nose to tail, and began to show off with a series of acrobatic moves that exposed the awesome muscularity of its lean structure. Yes, we were able to capture a lot of wonderful photographs. But we missed out on the real prize—watching the thrill of the chase and the almost certain possibility of fresh kill. After preening in front of us for a good ten minutes, the cheetah become tired of his own stunts and deciding that he had given us enough opportunity to be voyeurs, he grew tired of his own games and bounded away into the undergrowth. It was a lost opportunity that we would never get back.

For the rest of the morning, we saw a number of animals that we had never seen before but with which Em and Jude seemed very familiar. We saw an eland, for example, a kind of large horned ox with a pronounced hump that resembled an Indian cow. We also saw a sizeable antelope called a Topi, for the very first time. He was clad in ‘blue jeans’—a darker shade on his upper lags. For the next few days, we would continue to see large herds of topi, so that they would become for us as ubiquitous as gazelles

The best part of being out on the Mara, as twilight fell, was that we were in the midst of a splendid sunset. The sun’s slanting rays formed sharp luminous fingers in the sky and as they illuminated a herd of zebra alongside which we drove, we got some really evocative pictures of the Mara. More animals that we snapped as they wended their way home, in a hazy dusk across the land, were gazelles, antelopes, giraffes, impalas and more zebras. Yes, there are thousands of animals on the Mara and yet, you never tire of them as they remain constant companions on every game drive.

Drinks and Dinner with Friends:

At dinner this time, Llew and I found ourselves seated with Nama and Yair, the lovey Israeli couple who had joined us on the tour—they are friends/relatives of Sol and Dalia. I was pleased to have the opportunity to get to know another couple from our group a little better. Llew ordered red wine and Yair ordered a bottle of white wine. He offered me a glass and I graciously accepted and with our drinks in front of us, we started up a happy conversation.

Deciding to try and eat lighter, this evening, I enjoyed the Beef Bouillon (a most delicious clear consomme) and a plate filled with cheese, crackers and Greek Salad. They served as delightful appetizers. Later, I moved on to Steak Frites—yes, I had the Beef Pepper Steak with a flavorful mushroom sauce, a small helping of French fries, another small helping of pasta in marinara sauce and a small salad with loads of seeds and nuts. I finished with fresh grapefruit for dessert—something I do not get to eat too often in India. It was one of the nicest meals I had eaten all week. There was another birthday procession that brought music, noise and a dance procession to the space before we could call it a night.

Just when we thought we could make a dash to our rooms for an early relaxing evening, Em told us that a few of them would be sittign down to play bards. Llew joined them as well as Louella, Albin, Doreen and John to play Bluff while I joined a group that lingered on for post-dinner chatting—among them Brian, Marilyn, Frances and Ayaz, Ralph and Lynn.

It had been a long and tiring day but indeed a very productive one and all of us hunkered down in our rooms for the night filled with gratification for what we had seen.

Until tomorrow, Hakuna Matata (No Troubles, No Worries).

Day Four of our East African Safari --Amboseli National Park; Pit Stop at Oltukai Lodge and Pictures with Maasai Warrior; Lunch at Kibo Safari Camp; Long Van-Ride to Nairobi; Dinner at Carnivore Restaurant.

Monday, July 14, 2025:

Day Four of our East African Safari

Amboseli National Park; Pit Stop at Oltukai Lodge and Pictures with Maasai Warrior; Lunch at Kibo Safari Camp; Long Van-Ride to Nairobi; Dinner at Carnivore Restaurant.

Breakfast at Kibo Tented Camp:

For all its modesty. the Kibo Tented Camp offered us the most sumptuous banquets. Arriving first, as usual, to partake of breakfast, after what had been a very peaceful and restful night for us, Llew and I chose our seats and ordered our meal. As usual, Llew went for Eggs while I chose to do something different and ordered freshly-made crepes. Douzed with Chocolate and Butterscotch sauces, I have to admit that it was a bit like eating dessert first thing in the morning. But hey, I was on vacation and was quite happy to throw convention to the winds of the Mara. To wash it down, I chose watermelon juice and was quite happy with my much lighter breakfast. A saving grace for the day was that we did not need worry about those dreaded ‘packed’ lunches as our itinerary informed us that we would return to this same camp for a hot buffet lunch. And if breakfast offerings were anything to go by, I could be sure I’d be lunching well, for a change.

A Second Exploration of Amboseli National Park:

Breakfast consumed and our baggage placed in our vans (as we’d be staying in yet another place tonight), we set off. This morning, Mount Kilimanjaro was completely invisible and the Mara was covered with a fine mist. As we inched out of the gates of the park, we saw our first herd of zebras—they made for lovely hazy pictures in the softness of fog. Further on, we saw a small family of elephants, walking sluggishly towards us. Steve, our driver, informed us that their daily pattern is to wake early and make their leisurely way to a nearby swamp where they wallow in the waters, have a mud bath, give themselves showers and then slowly, at twilight, make their way back to where they came from—all the while they are tearing the Savannah grass off its roots and grazing for they eat at least half of their body weight daily.

Heading Towards the Swamp and Oltukai Lodge:

After about an hour, during which time we saw the usual suspects: loads of gazelles, impalas, wart hogs, zebras and a great deal of birds (Guinea fowl, eagles, black and white magpie-like birds, cranes and storks of various kinds, as well as Egyptian geese that were everywhere), we arrived at the watery reaches of a swamp. Steve pointed out a series of buildings to us in the distance and informed us that they were an intended resort whose construction was abandoned because litigation had commenced, for some reason. Finding this a safe haven, many animals, including baboons, had made the deserted, half-completed buildings, their home. He was sure that if he went closer, we’d get to see many of them.

Also, close to this series of building was another rather beautiful property called Oltukai Lodge where our tour group had permission to use the facilities. I fell in love with this place as soon as I entered its precincts. We walked to the main lobby along a wooden walkway called the Bird Walk over a very shallow pond. It was cozy but classy. I loved the décor which was decidedly African Bush, of course, but with a designer twist. Lovely solid teak furniture in the lobby was sprinkled over with staggering art work: a mural of embossed elephants on one wall, a series of Maasai shields on another, gorgeous paintings of local wild life by local artists on a third. Decorative items like lamps, vases and occasional stool were in a uniformly appealing aesthetic that I found hugely appealing. Yes, we did use the rest rooms here and some members of our group ordered coffee-to-go from the beautiful bar that overlooked a wide patio.

Posing for Photographs with a Maasai Warrior:

It was while wandering on to the patio to take in the interesting architectural elements of this space that I noticed a Maasai warrior, in full regimental garb, loitering around. I asked him if he would kindly pose with us for pictures (as we were unable to do so with the performing Maasai troupe at our hotel last night). He agreed (for nominal payment, of course). So while Llew was busying himself with trying to get free hotel wifi, I beckoned him over to the patio to enable us to get some pictures. By the way, American greenbacks are a parallel currency all over Tanzania and Kenya. One need not even bother about exchanging money for Tanzanian or Kenyan shillings—everyone, including the casual Maasai vendors and the salesmen in the hotel shops, take dollars.

For the next ten minutes, we posed with the Maasai warrior—I asked him his name but am afraid I found it unpronounceable. As Llew and I were in the process of finding the perfect backdrops for our pictures, our friend Frances came along and said she wanted pictures with him too. He made it clear that he would expect more payment! Of course, she was willing to pay and after we’d had our fill of pictures (much to his protests that we were taking too many!), we each parted with a dollar and left him to find more tourists in whose photo albums he could immortalize his presence.

On our return to our van, we found that a few cheeky, black-faced monkey had taken them over. They were all over the roofs (thankfully all closed up) but provided us with perfect photo ops and much entertainment. There were also large families of baboons but those we avoided as they were much less tame.

Skirting a Swamp in Search of Flamingos:

On our way out of the hotel, Steve told us that we would spend the next hour continuing to look for wildlife (mainly birds) as the swamp area breeds a whole lot of colorful birds. We were pleased to do so but we also kept out eyes peeled for hippos, a few of which we wallowing lazily in the waters.

The weather, I have to say, was always pleasant. It was warm enough for us to wear shorts but never oppressive or humid or uncomfortable. Winter is indeed a really perfect time to explore Africa. It is considered high tourist season and though the prices are higher, they are worth the extra bucks.

It was at this point, that we spotted pink flamingos. This was an unexpected sighting as most of them have flown out of Africa by the end of the monsoon season. These few stragglers had stayed on and were enjoying the pond. They allowed us to get some really good pictures of their strikingly pink wings, legs and necks while, in the distance, a single elephant, went on with the joys of his daily toilette as he showered and sprayed himself with swamp waters.

A little further on, following the course of the swamp, Steve brought us to a narrow channel of the swamp in which elephants were all lined up waiting for a wallow. It was indeed a charming sight, to see only a few inches of their back and the tops of their heads as they lay hidden in the cooling waters. Birds such as white egrets, fluttered about their backs seeking sustenance in the insects that they had picked up from the swamp’s waters. There were also many grey herons and storks near these waters. We took more pictures and moved on.

As it was nearing mid-day, Steve told us that we’d be driving back to our Kibo Tented Camp for lunch—as we’d need to fortify ourselves for our long and dreary ride to Nairobi (which would take anything between 5-6 hours). When we reached our hotel lobby, and before we dispersed for lunch or disappeared into the gift shop seeking goodies to take home for friends, Amani informed us that the traffic in Nairobi was crazy. He suggested we go directly to our dinner venue—the famous Carnivore Restaurant which is on every tourist’s agenda. We groaned as we knew we’d want a bit of a rest in our next hotel before showering and dressing for dinner. But Amani explained that if he went this route, we’d finish dinner and return to our hotels after 11.00 am—not a good idea as we’d have an early start tomorrow. Eventually, the consensus was that we’d go directly for dinner. As Llew and I were the only two folks wearing shorts and as we had at least two hours at the Kibo Resort before the long drive to Nairobi, I decided to pull out a better set of clothes from my baggage that would be more suitable to diner in a fancy restaurant. These (a silk shirt and a silk scarf and a pair of trousers), I stuffed into my bag with the idea of changing in the restaurant’s rest room when we arrived there.

Drinks and Lunch at Kibo Tented Camp:

With time on our hands, we finally had the chance to enjoy the beautiful environs of the Kibo Tented Resort. The Lobby and the Bar (in a separate tent) were just stunning with their log-cabin type of décor. The fireplace in the Bar tent was simply arresting with its large elephant head centerpiece flanked by life size logs. As it was a warm afternoon, most of us opted for a chilled glass of white wine as we loitered around the property, waiting for the buffet lunch service to begin, or posing for pictures with groups of our new friends. We missed our friends John and Doreen who were still in Nairobi having had to spend the night there while John received medical treatment. Reportedly, they were enjoying themselves in the city and looked forward to their reunion with us in the evening at Carnivore Restaurant.

The wine was cold and delicious. We sat and shot the breeze and talked about the most memorable parts of our safari experiences thus far until the buffet was opened and we trooped into the Dining Tent. There we began with Butternut Squash Soup that was just wonderful, a lovely selection of salads, including fresh avocado which was very popular, pasta with a selection of sauces, an Indian section offering eggplant bharta, dal, pullao, and a whole Continental section with perfectly steamed vegetables, a beef steak carving section, fried chicken plus pizza. Around the large tree that grew right in the center of the tent was the Desserts Section where many of us virtuously went for the fresh fruit although we could not resist the creamy custards and selection of cakes.

Off to Nairobi:

And then, stuffed to the gills with our delicious meal, we trooped back into our vans to begin the long ride to Kenya’s capital, Nairobi. There is not much to comment on about the journey. For a good part of it, we were in the Rift Valley, our van swooping down into the dips and then climbing on to the sloping road snaking ahead of us. Roasted corn was available to passing motorists as we passed miles of corn fields filled with ripened grain. Business ingenuity had led casual street vendors to set up roasting spits by the side of the road and for 50 cents (500 Kenyan shillings), one could partake of an impromptu snack. We also passed by a number of rural village schools, all sporting Christian names, and the occasional tiny church which clearly served the spiritual needs of the community. Every two hours, we stopped at wayside washrooms which included the mandatory handicrafts shops. By this time, we had become wise to the fact that highway robbery was literally committed at these shops and we avoided them like a plague. The vendors were particularly aggressive and atrocious at this stop, one of them clearly having alcohol on his breath as he tried to interest me in Maasai carvings. However, a nicer salesman stepped in and with some astute haggling, I managed to procure (at a price that pleased me) a Maasai couple in ebony with horn embellishments that I thought would make a lovely souvenir of our travels in East Africa. These were duly wrapped up and carried to our van.

Our journey to Nairobi continued until, about four hours later, we had clearly arrived on the outskirts of a big city. Long rustic dusty pathways made way for tarmacked roads and the bumps of our rural rides were history. Now, clear signs pointed the way to the various exits in and out of Kenya’s most important commercial city. We recognized signs for KFC and Art Caffe, the chain of upscale coffee shops that is Kenya’s answer to Starbucks (which does not exist in this country).

We drove around the city’s periphery for about an hour, fully embroiled in its notorious traffic before we took a diversion to make our way to the restaurant. We were more than ready, by this point, to attack a horse, and it was with great anticipation that we hopped out of our vans after we entered the wide and impressive gates of Carnivore Restaurant.

Dining at Carnivore Restaurant:

Carnivore Restaurant is one of those places in Africa that offers a taste of its distinctive cuisine mingled with a cultural show. It reminded us of the Boma Dinner we’d enjoyed on our South African Safari exactly ten years ago. Please see: https://rochellesroost.blogspot.com/search?q=boma+dinner for more details.

This dining experience was distinctly different. While our Boma Dinner was another buffet affair featuring all of the exotic meats of Africa including Cape Buffalo steaks, Kudu Stew and Antelope culets, this was a complete and identical reproduction of the Brazilian churrascaria meal with which all of us were familiar. We were seated at a very long table and left to order drinks. An African man, dressed in traditional long robes and fez-like cap, came around with a drinks tray around his neck. He called himself the Dawa Man or Medicine Man and he dispensed a particular house cocktail called Dawa. I ordered one and found it to be very similar to a Gimlet—a gin and lime cocktail but with added lemon juice and simple syrup. It was delicious and refreshing enough and was certainly very popular among the diners.

From this point on, after warmed metal plates were placed in front of us, we were treated to a steady stream of food brought it by waiters who plonked the offerings on our plates. It began with a carousel of tiered stands each bearing a variety of relishes and sauces placed before us and continued with a number of salads (chickpeas, corn, gren salads) and snacks (chicken meatballs, veggie spring rolls) and other nibbles. Then came the stars of the show: the grilled meats—and there were so many of them I forget what we were offered. Suffice it to say that there were ostrich meatballs that were quite good indeed (not made from wild ostrich but from the farmed kind) and beef sausages, fried chicken, grilled lamb, pork spare ribs, beef sirloin and tenderloin, leg of lamb, rump steak, leg of pork, turkey, chicken yakitori, filleted fish (no shell fish was offered, much to Llew’s disappointment). These were brought on roasting, skewers and carved at our table. Indeed, we were so inundated with every meat and game bird imaginable that by the time it came to the crowning dish—fried crocodile tail—we were simply too stuffed. However, determined to partake of the local food, I did opt to taste it. Not only did I find it very delicious but it tasted like…you guessed it…why, chicken, of course! It’s always so funny to me that all unfamiliar, exotic meat always tastes like chicken.

While we were in the middle of our meal, John and Doreen arrived We gave them a rousing welcome as we had missed their presence (especially in our van as they were part of our particular Sexy Six-some). John looked none the worse for his medical crisis and Doreen told us how impressed and satisfied they had been with the kind of medical attention they had received in a really fine, well-run and impeccably clean facility, the Aga Khan Hospital, in Nairobi. They had used their free day to explore the city on their own and have bravely used Uber cars to ferry them from one venue to the next, including the beautiful Botanical Gardens where they had lingered for a bit before moving to the Malls and checking out the merchandise.

Finally, dessert was offered: cheesecake. vanilla crème brule, chocolate brownies with chocolate ice-cream (the only time we ate ice-cream on this trip as, for some confounded reason, none of the hotel buffet dessert counters offer ice-cream). Well, we were simply too full to do justice to our dessert or really enjoy it, but it was wonderful.

Checking into the Hyatt Regency Hotel in Westlands:

With this memorable meal behind us, we piled back into our vans and were driven by Steve to the Nairobi Westlands Hyatt Regency Hotel, our abode for the night. This was the only modern hotel at which we stayed—it was your typical high-rise, five-star hotel, complete with sprawling lobby, huge Reception area and very classy décor. Amani and our drivers dealt with the onerous task of getting the right baggage to the right rooms after we’d identified it and, as we made our way to our rooms, just drooping with fatgue (for the long drive had truly tired us out), we were ready to have quick showers and sink into our beds.

Our rooms turned out to be really lovely—this place had the largest TV set I’d seen (the rural lodges did not have TV sets) as well as all mod cons. To our delight, we actually found decaff coffee sachets in the tea/coffee station in our room and eagerly seized on a cuppa—as both and Llew and I are habitual decaff coffee drinkers. This gave me the brainwave of using our Whatsapp group mode to request those members of our group not using their decaff sachets to save them for us. I was overwhelmed by the instant response. People immediately agreed to hand them over to us and for the rest of our trip, we had warming cups of decaff to enjoy upon our return to our rooms.

And with these occurrences today, our day came to a quiet but very exhausted end. We hoped to sleep soundly and awake refreshed on the morrow, ready to tackle the sight-seeing associated with a busy next day in Africa.

tomorrow, Hakuna Matata (No Troubles, No Worries)

Day Three of our East African Safari: Exploring Tarangire National Park in Tanzania, Crossing the Tanzania-Kenya Border, Game Drive in Amboseli National Park.

Sunday, July 13, 2025

Day Three of our East African Safari

Exploring Tarangire National Park in Tanzania, Crossing the Tanzania-Kenya Border, Game Drive in Amboseli National Park.

It was another lovely dawn in Tanzania. Llew and I had a 6.00 am wake-up call which left us enough time to eat a hearty breakfast. He and I were usually the first to arrive at the Dining Halls—which left us adequate time to order our eggs, request decaff coffee (we were usually given instant coffee powder) and enjoy our repast without hurry. Just after I placed by order for an Omlette With The Works (except chillies), I checked my phone to find myself reeling with shock.

Yet Another Hiccup—a Medical Emergency:

After dealing with the nuisance of their relatives’ lost baggage (which had been delivered to them only yesterday, i.e. on the fifth day of their travels on Kenya Airways), our dear friends Doreen and John were presented with yet another crisis. They had come through a late-night adventure of sorts. Or so Doreen’s text informed me. Poor John, who had looked dreadful by the time we’d reached our Lodge last night, was simply heaving with discomfort and told Doreen that he needed to see a doctor immediately. Long story short, John received the emergency treatemnt he needed and the safari continued for the two of them. Phew!

Eventually, I was able to return to the serious business of relishing my breakfast. I chose overnight oats which were topped by a really delicious rose syrup—I saw this bottle on almost all buffet tables near the maple syrup. It was studded with blueberries and banana slices—so delish! As for my Omlette, it was divine—with half a grilled tomato, sauteed mushrooms, baked beans and bacon. Replete with our meal, we made our way into our safari vans and settled down for another exciting morning of wildlife scouting.

A Word About My Van Companions:

By the third day in the company of my van companions, all ice had been thawed and everyone felt fully comfortable with the other. Llew and Albin discovered that, as fellow-bankers, they also happen to be in a similar area of expertise—Trade Finance. Albin discovered that his Uncle Eddie lived in the same Reserve Bank of India Colony in South Bombay in which I had grown up as a ‘townie’ (having arrived to live in Bandra only when I was 18). In fact, his Aunt Grace (Eddie’s wife) was a distant relative of my Dad and his cousins were my playmates during my childhood and teenage years! We also discovered that we knew several of Albin’s relatives in the US—in Long Island and New Jersey. Louella told us about her profession as a pediatrician and I made the passing remark that it was so good to have a doctor in our midst. Ooh, truly…more prophetic words were never spoke! Because it would not be too long before Louella’s skills would be put to the test. But I am getting ahead of myself…

We also discovered that Albin has a delightful sense of humor and a very easy way with words. He is able to pun quite effortlessly and through most of our drives, we were treated to his wit and humor as Louella smiled on. Our long drives educated us on the manner in which the three couples in our van had met and the comedic aspects of their courtship and dating. It all made for so much laughter during the hours that we drove through miles of deserted landscape only occasionally punctuated by the presence of a herd of gazelles or beautifully-horned impalas. Llew and I felt as if we had fully lucked out with our travel companions as we talked about our own journey from the USA to India and the factors that had motivated our repatriation to our beloved motherland.

A Sight for Sore Eyes—The ‘Pride’ of any Safari!

And then, not even five minutes after we had left the main entrance of Tarangire National Park, we spotted them! It was a whole pride of lions, not even eight feet from the main road. How splendidly regal they looked, almost camouflaged by the tawny grass as they sunned themselves and enjoyed a full-stomached rest! We were besides ourselves with joy! To be able to pause and take in the movements of this entire feline family, to watch them yawn, stretch, wander, roll over on their stomachs (there was a couple of frisky teenagers in the pride), eye us with open curiosity and not the slightest hostility—as if they were a batch of kitty-cats—was simply too much to enjoy. Our cameras could not stop clicking as we watched them move, change position, stroll several feet away then return to the family fold, gambol in utter freedom. Wow! Truly, the family that plays together, stays together! It reminded me of the lioness, Elsa in the film, ‘Born Free’. How marvelous it was to see these great big cats in their natural habitat, unconcerned about danger and free to grow up and grow old in the company of their doting parents. It was indeed one of the most un-fur-gettable sightings of my entire safari

After we’d had our fill of leonine laziness, we moved on. The day had begun brilliantly and we expected to be floored in this way for the rest of the morning. And we were not disappointed! Just a little ahead, we passed by a huge herd of Cape buffalo, grazing serenely on the plains, once again unperturbed by our presence. Sprinkled in their midst were a few hungry zebras also feeding in focused manner and oblivious to our presence. In the distance, we saw a few wildebeest, giving truth to Hemingway’s description of them as “big headed dots, seeming to climb as they moved in long fingers across the plain” (“The Snows of Kilimanjaro”). Even further in the distance, we saw a wart hog that scuttled off, its tail straight as a flag post as it disappeared among the acacia trees. The harmony of these herbivorous creatures as they shared space sans conflict was deeply moving to me.

In this manner, our game drive meandered on, There was perfect camaraderie inside our van as jokes were bandied about, legs were gently pulled and laughter erupted frequently. And outside, on the great plains of Tanzania, we passed scores of impala minding their business, pairs of giraffes (those gentle lolloping giants that stole our hearts away), any amount of zebras in their funny striped pyjamas and graceful gazelles whose coloring was worthy of a paintbrush and who scampered lightly away with a spring in their step. Mussa kept up a steady commentary as he also kept in radio contact with his cronies in the customary courtesy that exists on safaris—drivers informing each other about really prize sightings. And we were about to get very lucky…

Sighting Cheetah Siblings in the Grassland:

Word had it that cheetah had been spotted—pun unintended! And so began the mad race to arrive at the spot in time to catch them—on our cameras, of course. It is during these phases that one encounters the bumpiest, dustiest phases of game drives. In their hurry not to miss a sighting, drivers race on with the determination of Grand Prix champs, tearing across the Savanah for all they are worth, their radios going crazy with static as the excited tones of fellow-drivers mount.

And soon we were right there! Gazing in the distance, with their backs turned to us, was not one but two cheetahs—young adolescents on the prowl. Imagine, if you can, our sentiments! It is well-nigh impossible to see a cheetah…they are famously shy and determined to remain elusive. And here, we were…feasting our sights not on one, but both brothers, according to Mussa. Recently weaned off from their mother, they were testing their own predatory skills as the focused on the far distance in the hope of spotting a baby wart hog or a tasty gazelle. Off course, we kept hoping they would abandon their hunt and turn to us instead, the better to enable us to immortalize them with our cameras. Or indeed that they would find a fitting target and enable us to enjoy the thrill of the chase. But again, they were not so obliging. And the best we managed to come up with were pompous profiles of the pair. They left us enough time to take a fair share of photographs before they ambled away, at leisure, into the undergrowth, to be hidden forever from our sight! But what a treat! If only momentarily, we had garnered enough pictures to share, earned major bragging rights and were provided with a bonus sighting—cheetahs are not one of the Big Five (leopards are—and we had seen one, albeit in the far distance yesterday). This left us just one more creature to complete our score of all five Big Five—the elusive Rhino. And indeed, we’d have to cool our heels patiently in our quest for that one!

Right after this magical encounter, a lone hyena crossed our path, another snoozing lioness was sighted catching up on her zzzzs and a number of smaller animals played hide and seek with us.

And then, along they came!

Elephants Up the Wazoo:

Nosing away from the cheetahs and deeper into the plains, we caught sight of long trails of elephants. In the far distance, we watched them trundle towards us, thrilled with the possibility that they might actually cross our path. What struck me, as I watched them progress slowly towards us, was the utter silence of the Bush. There was simply not a sound to be heard. The complete lack of sound automatically induced us to speak in whispers, if only to hold on to the enchantment of the moment. Second by pin-drop silent second, they inched towards us and then…glory be…there they were not even a few feet from us, these amazingly grand Bulls, followed by their quiet females whose enormous girth sheltered the littlest ones as they huddled under those imposing legs seeking to be hidden. At that point in time, they seemed like the most adorable sight on earth.

Just as this lot of about eight pachyderms wandered into the plains away from us, another lot followed. And then a third! And before we knew it, we had spied, photographed and marveled at no less than 25 elephants in tight family groups, clearly on their way to a swamp—going by their determined progression in the same direction. That they had been so close to us—almost close enough to be touched—was simply awe-inspiring! This is the stuff of which an African Safari is made, I thought to myself, as the last group moved away in stately procession.

By this point in our morning game drive, we had more than the fulfillment we had expected. We were ready to move on…and indeed we would. It was time for us to leave Tanzania behind and cross the border to say “Jambo (Hullo) Kenya” as our African Adventures would continue.

Crossing the Border from Tanzania into Kenya:

Arriving at the Tanzania-Kenya Border at Namanga took us a good couple of hours. Yes, en route, we stopped to use rest rooms which involved the mandatory looksee into tourist traps in the form of handicraft shops which, we soon realized, quoted atrocious prices.

And then, our approach to the border crossing was announced by a long stretch of covered lorries that were filled to the brim with commodities in the form of fruit like oranges and veg such as onions and potatoes. As we moved closer towards the check point, Mussa explained that these trucks carry essential goods across the border daily to meet the needs of the inhabitants of both countries. At the Namanga check point, we used rest rooms, then went through Security. This was the first point at which we were asked to show our Yellow Fever cards and as our passports were checked for coordination, we were allowed to enter a hall where our bags were put through Scanning Machines. Our drivers took care of all of these aspects of our travel. Amani was active in directing us into the correct queues and instructing us to make sure that we had two stamps on our passport—once to prove exit from Tanzania and one to prove entry into Kenya. They two windows were, literally, side by side, not even two feet from each other. Our progress from one window to the next was slow but steady and, at any rate when 28 people need to fulfil immigration formalities, you can just imagine how much time is necessary. While I had a rather surly man dealing with my exit from Tanzania, I had the sweetest woman at the Kenya window, welcoming me warmly into her country with the most dazzling smile.

And so, with both stamps obtained and all immigration paperwork accomplished, we walked into a new country and said, “Jambo Kenya”.

Meeting the Most Amazing Maasai Vendors:

Not even five minutes later, after we’d located our safari van, now under the authority and control of new drivers—for we had bid Mussa goodbye at the entrance of the Namanga check point—we made acquaintance with a Kenyan driver who called himself Steve and led us to our vehicle.

Once inside, we were delighted to find the most beautiful handwoven throws in vivid red on each seat. We were told that these were traditional Maasai blankets and a most unexpected gift from Faith Holidays. How every generous of them! We were charmed. Indeed, from this point on, we are deep in the heart of Maasai Country and we saw scores of these towering tribesmen and women all over the place. In fact, we did not just see them, we actually rubbed shoulders with them.

As we settled down in our seats and while waiting for the rest of our party to accomplish their border formalities, we were surrounded by a group of vibrantly-dressed Maasai female vendors. They were carrying all sorts of portable trinkets—mainly jewelry—and urged us to buy. I was struck by the close and very neat beadwork on their necklaces and bracelets that they carried. There were also bookmarks and keychains and while it was very obvious that a certain amount of haggling would be necessary, I was struck dumb by the sales techniques of these enterprising and shrewd women who had more admirable business salesmanship than graduates from Wharton! While some of them had only a smattering of English, one of them latched on to me with a vengeance. Using every possible method to cajole and pursue and urge, she implored me to “support” her. This weighty word always does the trick, doesn’t it? Of course, I felt obliged to assist her in her efforts. I bought several beautiful Maasai bead necklaces with large horn pendants to give away as gifts and I felt very pleased with our deals. Best of all, I was thrilled to have the opportunity to interact with these tribeswomen in their native land, to chat with them about their goods and to wish them well. It was the same kind of thrill I had felt when haggling for antique brass coffee and pepper grinders in the Grand Market in Istanbul, Turkey, with a wily only crone who didn’t give an inch. But these encounters, to my mind, bring experiential learning to a course in Cultural Studies.

By the time we’d finished doing business with these colorful Maasai women, dripping with beaded jewelery and shrouded in their blood-red blankets, the rest of the members of our party had completed their border formalities. We were ready to roll and our next port of call was a lunch stop. No marks for guessing that we were starving by this time and ready to dive into a substantial meal.

Another “Packed” Lunch at Paradise Gallery:

Our hopes were sadly dashed. It would be yet another dratted “Packed” lunch with which we’d be presented—only this time we had a choice between chicken sandwiches and beef burgers. Orders were royally messed up and several people who had ordered the burgers in the morning had to make do with chicken. But, by that stage, few of us cared. It was enough to be able to enter a place called ‘Paradise Gallery’ where, as in the case of IKEA, you had to walk through a very dimly-lit showroom filled with ethnic handicrafts before emerging into a courtyard garden where African music was blaring.

Seats were quickly arranged for our party and as we took our places at table, our drivers distributed our lunch boxes. Same old, same old. Think a wrap or a burger, chips, fruit and a juice box. Nothing was more unappetizing and we went through the motions of eating just to live. Meanwhile, we enjoyed the moves of a group of African dancers who were swaying to the music and keeping us entertained.

But then, when our boxes had been cleared away, some of us moved into the shop to buy a few knick-knacks. I found ear-rings to match the stunning Maasai necklace I’d bought for myself as well as a magnet—for Llew and I collect them from every place to which we travel.

Encountering Caravans of Camels!

Soon, it was time for us to leave Paradise and re-enter our vans to speed off to our next destination: Amboseli National Park in Kenya, which is reputed to have the largest collection of elephants anywhere in the country. And yet, as we dashed ahead, some nodding off dozily, we began to see camels. Yes, camels! I thought I was seeing things! What were camels doing in the Bush? Had we left the Savanah and strayed into the Sahara? It was inconceivable. But then Steve, our new driver, whose English was far more limited than Mussa’s and far more heavily accented, explained that they were captive on camel farms, set up to provide milk and meat to local villagers. Yes, we did take many pictures because it was a most incongruous sight! But see them we did! We also passed by large flocks of cattle—cows and goats-- as Steve explained that we were passing right through the heart of Maasai Country and that the tribe make their living from cattle farming. Their wealth is measured in the number of cows they possess and the animal is intrinsic to their economy and well-being.

Deep in the Home of Kenyan Elephants—At Amboseli National Park:

Eventually, we arrived at the gates of Amboseli National Park. It is renowned as a place for the conservation and study of the African elephant. In fact, my close friend Virginia Dean in Fairfield, Connecticut, had sent me the contact details of her friend who is actively involved in the elephant conservation program here and is passionate about her project. Virginia had hoped I would be able to meet her—but given the schedule and pace of our itinerary, I knew we’d never be able to deviate from it.

Suffice it to say that we were inundated by elephants in this corner of the world. We saw simply dozens of them, in all sizes, totally unnoticing of our presence, as they carried on with the serious business of grazing, pulling at the branches of trees, protecting their young and moving on. Everywhere they went, snow-white egrets followed them to feast on insects lodged in the mud they’d picked up during their frequent and habitual mud baths. Indeed, we saw so many elephants and yet, we did not tire of them at all. Once again, I was struck by the stark silence of the landscape, the only sound being that of an occasional bird screeching.

Yes, Amboseli is also chockful of bird life and we saw ostriches, Marabou storks, flying cranes, lapwings and plovers everywhere. Among other members of the animal kingdom, we spied loads of zebra, wart hogs, gazelles, antelopes, impala and even, to our utter delight, a jackal—our first one and caught in the act of dining. Rather shy, he did not wait long to be scrutinized, but dove into the bushes with his prey.

It was here that we saw, for the first time, vast numbers of wildebeest marching in the distance, to some unheard drum. They had a steady gait as they walked in a straight line. This was perhaps the beginning of the signs we saw of the Great Migration. While most of them were serene, the long march had surely taken its toll—we saw some locking horns with each other—a sure sign of hostility. We also saw a calf trying to suckle and while its mother did allow it a few moments to do so, she pushed the calf away very quickly. Gamboling around them were frisky zebras for the two species seem to live in blissful harmony together, their habits happening to coincide beautifully.

After a few hours of animal-stalking, we were ready to call it a day and our drivers made tracks towards our next refuge for the night, the Kibo Safari Camp.

Camping out at Kibo Safari Camp and Glimpsing Mount Kilimanjaro—At Long Last:

Kibo’, by the way, is the Maasai word for Mount Kilimanjaro. And our next home away from home was located at the very foothills of the great mountain. As we drove towards us, I kept my eyes peeled—hoping to catch a glimpse of it, But Steve, while pointing in the direction of it, told me that it was completed enshrouded by cloud cover and would probably remain hidden tonight. What a tragedy! I felt very disappointed. I really did want to see the mountain before we left the area. I could only hope that we’d have clearer skies tomorrow.

But, miraculously, as we neared to our Lodge, the clouds parted enough for me to be able to see the monolith towering right in front of me. It was overwhelmingly large and my camera captured a few shots of it before the cloud cover obscured it again. Still…mission accomplished!

On our arrival at Kibo Safari Camp, we saw the entire staff lined up in two orderly rows to welcome us in. I must state that each time we entered a new hotel for the first time, we were presented with a Welcome Drink and a Hot or Cold Towel. Seriously, nothing could be more welcome after our long, dust-ridden drives. Whoever, in the hospitality industry, had thought of these little touches to comfort and cheer, he/she is a true genius. I totally appreciated these little aspects of our travel.

Another Mini Conference in the Lobby:

Amani gathered his troops around him, upon our entry into a sprawling space, decorated in primitive fashion, in imitation of a rustic Maasai habitation. The main structure housed the Reception, Lobby and Gift Shop, minor structures housed the Bar and Drawing Room as well as the huge Dining Room. Amani put us through the paces, explaining what the next few days would entail. He distributed our keys and invited us to return to the Dining Hall for supper.

I have to state that from the time we had left our last Lodge (Tarangire Sopa Lodge) to the time we entered this one at Amboseli, we had spent about 7-8 tedious hours on the road. We were tired and disgruntled and dying for hot showers and a lie-down. Hotel staff led us to our individual tents—unique because they were opened and closed by a full-length zipper. There was a lovely porch that led us inside, but, unfortunately, we did not have the opportunity to enjoy any of the properties at which we were based, to explore any of their facilities (including pools and spas) or wander around their beautifully landscaped gardens. This, we thought, was a great pity, as these properties were truly one-of-a-kind. It’s a very good thing that we had taken a walk in The Retreat at Ngorongoro because it was unlikely that we would have such time hanging on our hands again.

b>Dinner and Much Longed-For Rest in our Tents:

Llew and took swift showers and then joined the rest of our group for dinner. It was amazing how run down we all felt after merely sitting in a car for 7 hours! Our showers had revived us, somewhat, but most of us were only interested in ordering a relaxing cocktail at the bar before adjourning to the Dining Room for dinner.

Glancing at the Drinks Menu, Llew chose to have a glass of red wine from the Wine List while I debated about getting either a margarita or something called a Jumbo Crush. Ultimately, I chose the latter. But when I received my drink, it tasted suspiciously like a margarita. I did not say anything, but later, when my new friend, Frances, joined me and asked what I was drinking, I confidently informed her it was a Jumbo Crush and quite delicious. She ordered the same. Only when her drink came, it did not resemble mine in the slightest! A question to the cocktail waitress confirmed that she had brought me a margarita and had charged me for it! When I told her that I had not ordered a margarite but a Jumbo Crush (made with gin and passion fruit juice), she offered to replace my cocktail. Hence, I ended up sipping two for the price of one! A good deal, after all.

Drinks consumed, we walked into the Dining Hall where there was another bit of fanfare in the celebration of another birthday. By this point, we had become accustomed to this practice and had begun to think of it as “old hat”. Still, the buffet was huge and very substantial. There was pizza on offer and we ordered one for the table. Plus, around a tree that grew right in the middle of the tent was the Desserts counter with a plethora of sweets. We were truly spoiled for choice!

Watching a Maasai Cultural Program:

After dinner, we hurried out to the spacious patio of the hotel to watch a Maasai Cultural Preogram that was free of charge for residents of the Camp. The setting was just lovely. A huge circular fire pit in the center sent out a soft romantic glow over the space. Chairs were arranged all around for the audience. In front of us, a group of about 12 Maasai trpibesmen, garbed in the distinctive red blankets of their culture and holding long, sparpened sticks in their hands, were about to begin entertaining us with their traditional song and dance. We watched them, these gigantic black men, whose genetic composition has remained pure (as inter-marriage with other tribes is not permitted) and gives them their towering height. They sang in their local languages (not Swahili), brandishing their sticks menacingly in imitation of their hunting moves and making acoustic sounds that accompanied those moves. Next, they encircled the area, whooping happily, climbing on each other's backs, forming circles and dissolving them, moving back and forth in neat rows, then falling into circles again. All the while, we were kept enthralled by their act. This was the closest we would come to native Maasai culture and we were all delighted to have the opportunity to do so. The embers in the fire pit were waning as we left, about a half hour later, thanking them and showing our appreciation by clapping enthusiastically, as we made our way back to our villas with their amazing thatched roofs.

It had been another memorable day and we were still eager for more.

Until tomorrow, Hakuna Matata (No Worries, No Troubles).

Day Two of our East African Safari: Wildlife-Stalking in Lake Manyara National Park and Tarangire National Park

Saturday, July 12, 2025

Day Two of our East African Safari: Wildlife-Stalking in Lake Manyara National Park and Tarangire National Park

We slept well. How could we not? There was the quiet serenity of our surroundings, a really comfy bed, birdsong in the background and a day of happy exploration to anticipate. Yes, we did have an early wake-up call (that would be very much the order of the day for the entire trip) and we did set our own alarms too. With our little strollies packed and ready, we left them outside our villa doors and set out to find breakfast.

Right outside, we encountered Doreen and John who had the exact same idea. Naturally, we had to pose for pictures as the floral gardens, a riot of tropical color, begged to be photographed. Then, together, we made our way to the Dining Hall for a right royal repast. Llew and I had Mushroom, Cheese and Ham Omlettes with all the fixin’s and strawberry milkshakes to wash it all down. It was more than adequate to keep hunger pangs at bay until our next meal—lunch (which would turn out to be another “packed” affair—groan!)

Off to Lake Manyara:

It was nice, as we were setting off, in our van with Driver Mussa and our Sexy Six-some of yesterday, to watch that the entire staff of the hotel that lined up outside and were waving us off in a most cheerful manner. This, I realize, from watching Downton Abbey is a British tradition. ‘Servants’ always lined up outside a Mansion to welcome and bid goodbye to visitors. I have seen this colonial tradition followed also in posh hotels and resorts in Kerala, India—so this is certainly another aspect of the British colonial hangover that also prevails in Africa.

The drive to Lake Manyara took an hour from The Retreat at Ngorongoro. Vegetation along the roadway was lush, greenery was profuse. The rainy season had certainly left its mark on the land. We passed by little shanties which made up the bulk of the rural accommodation of the Tanzanians, most of whom are engaged in agriculture or livestock farming. In the higher elevations, as in the area we were in, there was a distinct nip in the morning air and on the mountainous slops, coffee plantations were everywhere, their black-red berries ripe for the picking. Kenyan coffee is among the best in the world and makes a very good take-home gift. Sadly, decaff is not widely available and I could not risk trying it and then lying awake for hours on end at night.

There was a huge sign to proclaim our arrival at Lake Manyara. It featured a lion crouched up in a tree—because, as you might have guessed, this National Park is renowned for its tree-climbing lions. The idea of bringing tourists to this Park is to enable them to seek and find wildlife in the environs of a natural lake that is spring-fed and relies on the annual rain to keep it in spate. It is an alkaline lake formed in a depression of the Rift Valley system. Around the lake’s banks are extensive marshlands and alkaline flats—these attract a vast variety of birdlife including the famed pink flamingos that congregate here in the rainy season turning the surface of the lake into a pink plain. By the time we arrived at this venue, however, most of the flamingos had long flown away.

Clowning Around at the Entrance:

Soon after we alighted from our vehicles at the entrance, we used the rest rooms and discovered a huge sign that said ‘Lake Manyara, Tanzania”. It was one of those photo-frame structures into which one (or a group) can insert themselves to make it look like a picture frame. Needless to say, the jollier members of our group immediately seized upon the site and began take photographs themselves, becoming more dramatic and hilarious as they went along. These pictures will be great souvenirs of our trip, doubtless.

Safari Drive at Lake Manyara:

Unlike our safari drive yesterday at the Ngorongoro Crater where we drove along flat plains looking for wildlife, this was a true jungle. Thick vegetation formed a canopy overhead and covered the forest floor. A very narrow roadway snakes its way deeper into the Park, drivers cruising forward slowly to enable visitors to look up into the branches to find, hopefully, a snoozing lion. Alas, we had no such luck today. But we did see a multiplicity of moneys—of every kind: from fat, ferocious baboons to delicate, black-faced monkeys that reportedly sport blue tongues. They congregated in the trees, screeching occasionally and offering us a load of photo ops. Among the many animals we saw on this segment of our search were baboon families, lone giraffes as well as family groups (a matter of great excitement as these were the first giraffes we saw) and a solitary elephant at a water hole.

After driving for more than an hour, we arrived at the shores of Lake Manyara, a wonderfully serene space that was highly photogenic. There, a huge family of baboons added to our visual pleasure even as we spotted a number of waterfowl and colorful birds including the lilac-breast roller (which is the most photographed bird in the world) and as vivid when sitting as it is in flight—where its shades of turquoise are simply stunning.

A Word About African Vegetation:

African vegetation is varied, of course, in keeping with the terrain, elevation and water availability. For the most part, one can easily distinguish the stars of the tropical forest, but, in addition, there are two distinctly recognizable African trees that are synonymous with the word, ‘safari’. One is acacia—a very pretty, short tree that forms an umbrella-like canopy above one’s head; and the gigantic, sturdy, many-armed baobab tree which can live for hundreds of years. Its trunk is a favorite of elephants who use it to rub themselves after mud baths, in order to shake off pesky insects or just to scratch where it itches. Hence, all over the Savanah, one comes across these impressive trees with wide trunks at the base that have been worn away by decades of elephants and rhinos rubbing against them. Lake Manyara NP is filled with both these trees and while being visually arresting, they support a vast eco-system especially with regards to bird life.

Posing for Pictures:

In a short while, we arrived at a lookout point, which also doubled as a rest room area. The entire Rift Valley seemed spread out for our viewing pleasure at this point, Not surprisingly, we assembled as a single, large group to take a photograph. Looking at this picture now I realize how stringently we paid attention to all the instructions that had been sent to us regarding choice of cothing. Most people are dressed in the soft, pastel shades of the African Bush: shades of brown from tan to Burnt Sienna; every shade of forest green from soft mint to bottle green; salmon pinks and soft blues (reflective of the cloudless skies). There were no bright or harsh colors on anyone during our ten days together. Similarly, almost everyone had religiously adhered to the baggage rules and brought with them only carry-on size baggage as storage space was very limited in the safari vans that ferried us from one point to the next. Most of us chatted about how carefully we had measured our baggage to ensure that we were not violating regulations, some of us even purchasing new suitcases to conform to the rules.

Group and couple pictures taken, we trooped back into our vans to make our way to the venue for lunch—a commercial space called ‘Safari Land’, which is really a vast storehouse of traditional Tanzanian art and craft items. We reached there about a half hour later and were seen into the space by the attentive sales force.

Lunch at Safari Land—The Tanzanite Spiel:

By this point in time, most of us had realized that Tanzania is noted for its mining of a most unique precious stone that has been dubbed the Tanzanite by no less an authority on jewels that Louis Comfort Tiffany. This is mined only in the foothills of Mount Kilimanjaro and has not yet been found in any other part of the world. To the untrained eye, it resembles a sapphire, but is far less precious. As we entered the space, we were ushered into a room where we were treated to the typical tourist spiel of salesmen trying hard to sell their most expensive wares to a captive audience.

Accordingly, we were treated to a short audio-visual presentation in which the origins of this stone were spelled out. It was ‘discovered’ only very recently (mid-twentieth century) and has, since then, been mined quite vigorously. So vigorously, in fact, that there is every chance it will actually go extinct. Or this is the USF—Unique Selling Factor. Buy now or forever hold your purse!

The chap who explained the mining and creation of Tanzanite jewelery to us was a Patel. It was interesting to learn about the stone and its varied shades. As in the case of diamonds, so too here, stones are classified on the basis of the 4 Cs: color, carat, cut and clarity; and it was clear to see that the cheapest ones are as light as aquamarines while the darkest ones are as striking as sapphires. The jewelry that filled the showroom is set with pure diamonds and forms the basis of highly glamourous, evening accessories. While I have to admit that many of us were tempted, we did have sticker shock and nobody bought. I was reminded of the words of Atul Mohod, my flying companion on the Kenya Airways flight who had advised me to put my money into diamonds instead. They would have far greater resale value, he said.

With the Tanzanite spiel out of the way, we were able to get out of the high-end showroom and enter the more plebian parts of the store. This was a vast space that carried a number of items that would make good gifts—carved ebony in the shape of Maasai busts that would function as book ends, ebony mask wall pieces, marble and stone table carvings, keychains, book marks, magnets (for the more modest pocket), jewlery made of Maasai beads and stones, loads of wooden spoons and salad servers carved with the likeness of animals such as elephants, giraffes and cheetahs (these are a very popular gift items and I purchased several), oil paintings, huge Maasai warrior figurines, etc. They had different price points and offered something for everyone. When we had browsed enough or bought what we desired, we were directed to the floor upstairs where folks sat down to lunch.

b>‘Packed’ Lunch at Safari Land:

The ‘packed’ lunch at Safari Land was a complete repeat of the previous day’s meal: chicken wraps or vegetarian sandwiches with a vegetable samosa thrown in plus potato crisps, salad and fruit with a juice box. It was most unappetizing, even childish, and we certainly wished the chefs at the hotels that prepare these boxes would use more creativity, imagination and talent in putting them together. They were the least successful part of our trip.

With lunch done, we could move towards the next part of our agenda.

Driving to and Exploring Tarangire National Park:

We came to Tarangire to see a variety of wildlife for in the post-rainy season, there were vast herds of migratory animals (wildebeest, zebra) as well as impala, gazelles, monkeys and even elephants who make these environs their home. Not surprisingly, we began to see animals and birds all over the place as we headed deeper into the Park. Giraffes were everywhere—in happy family units that included little ones.

It was here that we had our first encounter with a leopard. Draped on a faraway tree, one could barely see him with the naked eye. It was only with the aid of very powerful binoculars that the lot of us could distinguish him tucked into the fork of a sturdy tree branch, fast asleep. Because Llew has a very powerful magnifier on his phone camera, he managed to get the best possible picture of this particular leopard. For some reason that I cannot fathom, none of the safari vans (and there was at least a dozen that had congregated there) were willing to go off road to get closer views of the animal. It is possible that they were afraid as a leopard at a height is very capable on dropping right down on the roof of a van. At any rate, this was a rather futile exercise in trying to gain a better view as the leopard remained elusive despite a very long and patient wait at this venue.

John Looks Ill:

It was at this point that I noticed how quiet and withdrawn our friend and van-companion John had become. When I asked if he was okay, he responded that he really needed to pee but was unable to do anything about it. I misunderstood his response into thinking he was uncomfortable as he could not get out of the van to relieve himself (it is generally prohibited). But, as time went by, I realized that his situation was much more complicated than that.

As we drove away from the elusive leopard, we made our way to a pool where, in the waters that were as still as a mill pond, we saw a whole herd of elephants comprising three generations: great big Bulls, fond maternal specimens and adorable baby jumbos. They were reflected most picturesquely in the algea-colored waters and delighted the photographers in us. We watched them take mud baths, spray themselves for impromptu showers, roll and loll in the cool stream and generally do what elephant families do at a swamp.

Encountering Beautiful Bird Life:

It was here that we also saw an abundance of bird life. From two large Southern Ground Hornbills that mate for life and always travel in pairs, to black and white hornbills to vibrant iridescent turquoise birds, we saw a multitude of them, each more visually stunning than the other. In addition, there were a variety of hawks in the trees as well as waterfowl and the ubiquitous Egyptian geese. By this point, we were also able to recognize African jacandas, lovely two-toned birds that frequent water spots. Off course, ostriches were everywhere, waking in stately fashion, like elegant society ladies, disdaining the presence of our vans and either ignoring us or fleeing off to safer pastures.

I have to say that having spoken to Amani, our tour director, the previous day, about the silence of our driver Mussa, the situation was immediately addressed and rectified. If I know the names of these bird species, it was because our driver Mussa came splendidly into his own and provided almost non-stop commentary, much to our satisfaction. Suddenly, we were learning so much about water reserves, camouflage possibilities of these creatures, their feeding and mating habits, etc. It was a joy to drive around in a van in which the driver, an articulate and well-informed person, was finally sharing his knowledge with us. Thank You Mussa for enhancing our knowledge of the African Bush.

b>Driving To and Arrival at Tarangire Sopa Lodge:

About an hour later, we began our drive to our next shelter for the night—the Tarangire Sopa Lodge. This place was far less luxurious than The Retreat at Ngorongoro, but it was just as atmospheric. Once assembled in the Lobby, I was able to take in its spacious size that was conveniently divided into Reception, Bar, Dining and Lounge areas. After we’d identified our baggage and received our room keys, we discovered that our rooms were individual villas and that the entire space is designed in imitation of a typical Maasai village. In our own room, we had a double bed with mosquito nets surrounding it, plus a mini-bar and a little balcony from where we sat down to view the sunset after brewing ourselves a comforting cup of tea and watching the antics of resident, black-faced grey monkeys.

b>Dinner at Tarangire Sopa Lodge:

I was looking forward to dinner, I must admit, as our packed lunch box had not cut it for me. Furthermore, while waiting for our room key in the lobby, I had discovered the Notice Board where the night’s Dinner Menu was very clearly marked. My mouth watered at the thought of the extensive salad bar that offered among other dishes, a Strawberry Avocado Salad, a Chimichurri Salad and a Tuna and Tilapia Cocktail. Soup (Chicken Mulligatawny) was really delicious and truly hit the spot. Among the Mains to which I helped myself was Tuscan Chicken, Marinated Beef Satay with Peanut Sauce (which was really very good indeed), a Vegetable Lasagna and Lemon and Herb Fish Steak. As you can tell, I am a firm afficionado of Continental food and since I now live in India where I am inundated by Indian cuisine, I stay far away from it when I am traveling. The vast variety of dishes in these hotel buffet menus always provided me with something that met the needs of my fastidious Western palate. And for dessert? Why, there was Amarula Crème Brulee. Amarula is the African cream liqueur made from a hard fruit native to the continent called Marula. I was hoping to taste it at least once during our travels, but it eluded me completely. I also opted for the Mandazi Pudding with Vanilla and Cardamon Custard (in my attempt to get better acquainted with African food). It was creamy and delicious.

The most interesting aspect of our dinner tonight was the lovely cultural program that was presented by the wait staff at the hotel. On the steps leading down into the huge dining room that can seat hundreds at a time, they had arranged themselves in voices to sing us traditional songs in Swahili. The crowd was most appreciative and although we focused on our plates, we saved enough attention for their lovely voices.

Dinner done, we went directly to our rooms. The early morning wake-up calls were clearly beginning to take their toll on our tour participants and the inability to take an afternoon nap left them energy-depleted. Llew and I were given an escort to return to our rooms (this is customary as animals prowl on the property and the staff know how to fend off potential attacks).

Once in our room, we showered, changed, made ourselves comfortable for the night and repacked—because yes, we would have another early morning wake-up call which would require us to check out of this hotel and make our way in the van to yet another part of our safari.

Until tomorrow…Hakuna Matata (No Troubles, No Worries).