Few adventures capture your imagination like an Africa safari. The dark continent flickered through my childhood on the pages of National Geographic and scenes from Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.
Growing up in the ’70s and ’80s, the major national parks and wildlife reserves across Africa were at the frontlines of ecological fights. They lost up to 60% of the large wild animals between 1970 and 2005 from disease, habitat loss, and poaching from decades of drought and civil unrest.
As I continued to age and move past my 50th birthday, it felt like it was now or never to take the African Safari of my dreams before it disappeared.
Planning for an African Safari in Tanzania
The first step to planning an African safari is picking a destination. We chose Tanzania because it’s home to the Serengeti, and the Northern Parks Circuit is particularly suited for first-time visitors. The second question was when to take a safari. We selected late October because it is the end of the long dry season but past the summer crowds.
Finally, we had to choose our safari company. We selected Altezza because they’re committed to sustainability and ensuring their safaris benefit the animals and the locals while maintaining industry-leading service standards. Right away, they worked with us in earnest to plan our African Safari. All that was left was solving the logistic puzzle of long flights and tight weight limits.
Departure Day
We’ve driven to Atlanta to fly overseas before. Huntsville is just too close to Florida to support consistent recreational flights and the flood of business travelers to Rocket City keeps the ticket prices high. We’ve never had to contend with presidential candidates campaigning in a swing state. We passed the Trump motorcade heading north on a closed I-75, and it took more than an hour to clear airport security, even with TSA Precheck.
Layover in Doha’s Hamad International Airport
It already felt like we had a full travel day before we boarded our 13-hour flight to Doha, Qatar. The flight was uneventful, but unless you have a severe gluten allergy, I recommend ordering the rice dish instead of pre-ordering a special gluten-free meal on Qatar Airlines (unless you really love rice cakes…lol!).
Hamad International Airport in Doha is known for its luxury, duty-free shopping and food scene. For our 9-hour layover, we split our time between the Priority Pass Lounge and the Sleep’n Fly sleep pods that also accepted Priority Pass. We had just enough rest to appreciate a golden sunrise illuminating a cauldron of clouds below that swirled and billowed around the peak of Kilimanjaro as we descended into Kilimanjaro Airport.
Arriving in Africa
Kilimanjaro International Airport is the smallest of the three international airports in Tanzania. Our Airbus 330 pulled up to the back of the terminal, and the ground crew wheeled over a set of rolling stairs. We were about to put boots on the ground on the African Safaria of our dreams! Among the many questions in our minds was, after a lifetime of anticipation (yes, really a lifetime for both of us), could it possibly live up to our dreams and expectations?
Boots on the Ground
Our first surprise was how temperate the air felt stepping out of the plane. We were expecting a punch in the face from equatorial weather. Instead, it was a pleasant October morning. Our elevation at 3,000′ certainly helped, but October is early spring below the equator and the start of the short rainy season.
Our second realization shouldn’t have been a surprise. Things were a little funky in one of the world’s poorest countries, with a gross domestic product per capita that is less than the cost of our week-long luxury safari. Customs could not process our online visa application since we didn’t print it, so we had to borrow a pen and fill out an immigration form.
We weren’t the last people through customs, but our bags were waiting for us past immigration. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came straight from the belly of the plane to baggage claim without ever touching a conveyor belt. An Altezza driver was waiting for us with a sign outside the airport, and we began our hour-and-a-half drive to Arusha.
The Road to Arusha
The arid African countryside greeted us as soon as we left the small footprint of the Kilimanjaro Airport. Huts that were presumably occupied stood adjacent to dusty fields that lay untended, waiting out the long dry season that just finished.
The landscape wasn’t completely foreign. I recognized the blue flowers of the jacaranda trees from living in San Diego and the distinctive shape of the acacia trees from Wild Kingdom. Only these didn’t have lions living under them, no matter how hard I looked.
The scenery became more lively when we reached the Arusha-Himo road. A right turn would take us to Moshi, the capital of the Kilimanjaro region and gateway city to the mountain. We turned left towards Arusha.
The road was filled with overloaded and underpowered vehicles. Diesel trucks struggled to climb small grades while belching out clouds of black smoke in protest.
We couldn’t help but marvel at the creative loading of the 125cc motorcycles that swarmed like flies. One had a bushel of dried corn stalks strapped to the back that extended four feet on either side. Another had four pieces of rebar that almost touched the ground behind the bike and extended forward beyond the handlebars as if he were a knight ready to joust. Seeing three men on a motorcycle was common, but we didn’t expect to see a ball of twenty live chickens tied together by their feet and fastened to the gas tank.
Approaching Arusha
The landscape greened as we grew closer to Arusha, and the road bustled with activity. Zamseed advertisements adorned the rooftops like the Mail Pouch barns back home. Roadside stalls sold bundles of sticks and homemade bricks for building houses, and severe but unmarked speed bumps slowed traffic entering the small towns. I was glad I could watch the scenery instead of driving, especially when I realized Tanzania drives on the left from its days as a British protectorate.
We entered the rain shadow of Mount Meru about thirty minutes away from Arusha. Signs announced the turn-off to visit Arusha National Park and opportunities to stay at game lodges and take safaris. We continued forward until we reached the gates of the Gran Melia Arusha Hotel, with grounds that looked like an oasis within a garden of green.
Gran Melia Arusha Hotel
Even though it was barely noon, our room was thankfully ready. We checked in, dropped our bags, and resisted the overwhelming urge to nap. We had spent two restless nights sleeping in planes and airports, with one travel day in between shortened by a 9-hour time change. Our bodies’ internal clocks were blinking 12:00.
We chose caffeine over crashing and went to the lobby coffee shop for a little pick-me-up. It might have been the best cup of coffee we ever had, and we soon learned why.
After our coffee, we wandered down to the hotel’s beautiful pool. It was still too cool for swimming, so we explored the 18-acre grounds. An excited gardener proudly showed us the hotel’s extensive organic gardens and coffee plantation.
Organic Gardens and Coffee Plantation
We started with the coffee plantation, hand-picked ripe fruit, popped out the slimy white beans, and spread them onto a wire mesh to sun dry. Three days later, these beans will be ready to roast in the coffee shop’s small batch roaster, which I suddenly realized was functional and not purely ornamental.
We moved on to rows of leafy greens, vegetables, and herbs, all carefully labeled in English because the hotel’s culinary classes include garden tours. Our guide showed us organic gardening touches like marigolds to keep out pests and an extensive rainwater collection system. We finished at the poultry house that provided farm-fresh eggs and even fresher chicken.
The Sanaa Workshop
The Sanaa Workshop is an artisan collective on the Gran Melia grounds beside the gardens. Here, marginalized people make unique products, mainly from recycled waste. Our guide, Mustafa, showed us all the departments, including weaving, sewing, glass blowing, basket weaving, and making cow horn jewelry.
The artists were happy to see us and eagerly showed us how they make their wares. Like all good tours, we ended up in the gift shop. If not for our tight weight limits, we would have certainly purchased something since the proceeds are used for all of Sanaa’s charitable projects.
We opted for a Buddha bowl in the Garden Cafe adjacent to the workshop. It was overflowing with fresh flavors from the gardens, including succulent chicken. A 3:00 coffee was no match for a belly full of food, so we set our alarms and settled down for a short afternoon nap.
Evening in the Gran Malia
We woke up with enough time to go to the rooftop bar for a sunset view of Mt. Meru towering over the pool and gardens. Then, we headed down to the acclaimed Saba Saba buffet. Saba Saba is an homage to the July 7th national holiday and the hotel’s former name. The food was fresh and flavorful, with extensive European and local choices.
We had made it through our first day with full bellies and tired eyes. Our bed was remarkably comfortable, but I don’t think that would have mattered. We were more than ready to sleep and begin our first day of safari in the morning.
Safari Day 1: Tarangire National Park
We woke to light rain falling in Arusha and Mt Meru veiled in clouds. The breakfast buffet was phenomenal, and we didn’t feel remiss packing a bagged lunch from the buffet.
After breakfast, we met our Altezza guide, Cathbert, in the lobby and were on our way to Tarangire National Park. We stopped on the way out of town to pick up rice for our refillable photography bean bag, but that’s all since Cathbert had the jeep stocked with cold drinks and snacks.
On the Road to Tarangire
The rain let up as we left Arusha, and shortly after passing the Arusha Airport, the green vegetation turned to dusty brown plains. Instead of fallow fields, this was open grazing land for the Maasai.
Mile after mile, we passed Maasai villagers carrying on a traditional life ripped from National Geographic’s pages. Young boys were taking herds of cows, sheep, and goats to pasture, and women were at the ponds with donkeys carrying water back to the village. Everybody was dressed in the colorful traditional robes I associated with the scenes of Africa from my youth.
We saw our first zebra wandering free outside of Makuyuni. They were probably on a walkabout from their primary home at the Makuyuni Wildlife Park. The town of Makuyuni was at a crossroads between Tarangire National Park and Lake Manyara National Park. With a population of over 10,000 people, it was by far the biggest town we passed through since leaving Arusha. Twenty minutes later, we turned off onto the dirt road to Tarangire National Park.
Entering Tarangire
Tarangire is famous for its Boabab trees, including a giant specimen beside the park’s gate. They’re known as the Tree of Life since a single tree can support an entire ecosystem in the soft hollows within its soft, bulbous trunk. They lose their leaves during the long dry season and were begging to leaf out with the recent rains. A pair of young Maasai men stoop next to the enormous tree, eagerly posing for pictures with tourists for tips.
Cathbert went off to secure our permit and pay entry fees while we stretched our legs. We spent considerable time researching safari clothes that offered UV resistance with an anti-microbial and insect-repellent treatment.
Apparently, the other park visitors weren’t concerned. We saw busloads of uniformed school kids out for a field trip and twenty-something women with cut-off jean shorts and cotton t-shirts. The roads were dry enough that private minivans were entering the park along with beefy 4×4 safari jeeps with redundant spare tires and vehicle snorkels.
Elephants Being Elephants
Elephants were our first animal spotted. They were about 1/4 mile away, tromping through a stand of trees. We could see them through binoculars but hoped for more. We came to a field with a few herd animals about twenty minutes later. It was fun watching the young male gazelles establish dominance and zebra graze, but this footage would be on the cutting room floor for Wild Kingdom.
We had the experience we sought when we rounded the corner and encountered a herd of elephants in a small, muddy lake. The elephants took turns wallowing and rolling in the mud, and we particularly enjoyed the young males who seemed to inevitably get their trunks caught in their tusks.
Watch Out For That Tree
The herd moved from the mud and started grazing on a grove of acacia trees. They’d pick up bundles of branches in their trunks and knock over trees for no apparent reason that broke with a loud snap. They would wander away for a good scratch on a fallen tree and wander back next to the jeeps for the babies to nurse. They were wild elephants being wild elephants, and it was beautiful.
We looked over to the jeep next to us and saw two twenty-somethings setting up a selfy with the elephants in the background. We just assumed they were wearing cut-off jeans.
On the Road to Lake Manyara
We spent four hours on a game drive through Tarangire, including a lunch stop. We loved our elephant encounter and saw many animals, but not the huge herds or big cats we hoped for.
We retraced our steps to Makuyuni and took the road to Lake Manyara. The Maasai were everywhere outside the town. This time of night, they were hosting passing safari jeeps in their villages for paid visits and dance sessions.
The River of Mosquitos
We passed through Mto wa Mbu, a town at the entrance to Lake Manyara National Park. Cathbert said that this region has advantages and disadvantages. There is year-round agriculture with irrigation from readily accessible groundwater. One downside is that all that water breeds mosquitos. Mto wa Mbu is Swahili for the river of mosquitos, so we were thankful our hotel was on the dry escarpment (cliffs) overlooking the lake.
We saw two of the region’s three idiomatic highlights before leaving the valley. Manyara has the largest concentration of baboons anywhere in the world, and we saw plenty hanging out by the side of the road. We also stopped by a roadside stand to try the local red bananas, which tasted like banana custard. We didn’t see the famous tree-climbing lions, so no big cats for us that day.
Escarpment Luxury Lodge
We pulled into the Escarpment Luxury Lodge late in the day and were greeted with a Maasai welcome dance. We would have loved to have stayed awake for the sunset dance and subsequent campfire, but jetlag got the best of us.
We woke up for a candlelit dinner on the expansive deck overlooking the Great Rift Valley. Dinner was delicious, with international and local cuisine prepared from farm-to-table ingredients. We returned to our comfortable bed and slept through the night with full bellies.
Safari Day 2: Ngorongoro Crater
Tarangire was good but not great. I understand the logistics now because we were only 15 miles from Ngorongoro Crater and leaving at 6:30 in the morning to facilitate the day ahead. Our plan was to visit the 100 sq mi, 2000′ deep Ngorongoro Crater and then travel overland to the central Serengeti.
Descending into Ngorongoro Crater
Ngorongoro has two gates, one for the overarching conservation area and one for the crater itself. Maybe it was the early morning or because we were beyond the range of one-day safaris from Arusha, but our fellow travelers at both gates seemed much better prepared or at least better dressed.
The crater has one road down and one road up; both are paved with bricks to prevent washing out during the rainy season. Our animal encounters began as soon as we descended the crater with a large troop of baboons meandering down the road.
Cathbert loved seeing an orphaned juvenile under the protection of the troop’s patriarch. We loved watching the babies wrestle and catch rides with their mothers. It was a barrel of monkeys watching these guys cruise up the road and right by us. As soon as they passed, we continued down to the crater floor.
Pussies Galore
We realized the difference between Tarangire and Ngorongoro when we reached the crater floor. Instead of the handful of herd animals from Tarangire, a huge herd of wildebeest and zebras stretched from Lake Magadi, the crater’s alkaline lake, to the rim.
We thought we had hit the jackpot until Cathbert moved the jeep to a nearby spring with about 30 vehicles parked to watch something. We saw a lioness resting on a fallen log. One by one, the rest of the pride emerged from the bush and piled onto the log. A young male curled up beneath his mom, enjoying his limited time remaining in the pride. A quartet of cubs sauntered onto the log filled with kitten energy.
Before long, the lions filled the log. They lingered long enough for a catnap and then dispersed into hunting positions in the tall grass adjacent to the mixed herd we saw earlier. An alpha male walked right next to our jeep in classic feline indifference before assuming his post. We don’t know what brought the pride together or how they knew it was time to go hunt, but it was obvious that they weren’t afraid of us.
Looping Lake Magadi
We continued around the crater after our lion encounter. Lake Magadi has several inlets but no outlets. We stopped by one of the significant inflows to watch hippos and flamingos enjoying the relatively fresh water entering the salty lake.
We continued around and saw a family of warthogs playing before spotting a trio of rhinos in the distance. The free-roaming rhinos are supposed to be one of the highlights of Ngorongoro. It’s awesome that the park is protected enough that they’re free from poaching, but they were really too far away to enjoy. That doesn’t stop us from counting it towards #SafariBingo.
We spent about five hours in Ngorongoro. We saw more black rhinos in the distance and were reunited with the lions from the morning coming down to a stream to drink, but it didn’t compare to the first encounter. We left the crater at about 1:30 and began the long drive to the Serengeti.
The Maasai of Ngorongoro
Cathbert explained how a Maasai cowbell goes ngoro ngoro and is the namesake for the crater. The Maasai were relocated from Serengeti National Park when it was formed in 1959 and later from the crater basin with the 2009 Ngorongoro Wildlife Conservation Act.
We passed several traditional villages in the Melanja Depression adjacent to the crater in the morning and again in the afternoon on the road to the Serengeti. Closer to the crater, their fields were green and cattle fat. We even saw a family of giraffes walking near Melanja, even though they couldn’t descend into the crater.
The Serengeti Main Gate
We saw Maasai boys escorting their flocks all along the bumpy, hour-long drive to the Serengeti Main Gate. The land became drier and browner with every passing mile. The only trace of civilization was the Olduvai Gorge Monument & Museum, commemorating the discovery of the earliest humans in Tanzania.
As soon as we passed through the gate, zebra and gazelle replaced the herds of cattle, sheep, and goats. We could see that the savannah has a limited carrying capacity. A fence could decide whether that’s the Serengeti ecosystem with some of the world’s most iconic animals or a pastoral tribe resisting integration into modern society.
Sunset on the Serengeti
It was 3:00 by the time we reached the Serengeti Main Gate and 3:30 before we finished with bathrooms and paperwork at the administrative center at Naabi Hill. I was expecting more game drive excitement crossing the world-famous Serengeti National Park. Still, the hour-long transit between Naabi Hill and the small town of Seronera in the central Serengeti was remarkably unremarkable. That all changed when we entered the Mara Region, where they have projects, including several small dams, to encourage year-round animal habitat.
We stopped atop a small dam to watch the hippos splashing in the impoundment pool. This was an immersive experience filled with hippo sights, sounds, and smells, unlike earlier in the day. Cathbert explained how they were active at twilight because they were getting ready to leave the pond for their nightly feeding. We watched them roll, yawn, and leave the water in small groups.
Elephants and Airstrips
We encountered our largest herd of elephants yet crossing the road in front of the Seronera Airstrip. There were huge bulls, tiny babies, and elephants of all sizes in between. We loved watching how protective the families were of their little babies. As they approached the jeeps, they formed a cluster with the young ones in the middle. They were willing to pass quite close, but the big bulls would snort and flair their ears as a warning if we made too much noise.
It was dark enough by the time we reached the Kubu Kubu Tented Lodge that we had a hard time seeing the zebra, wildebeest, and water buffalo meandering around on the lodge’s approach road.
Safari on the Serengeti (Day 3)
After a lifetime of waiting and three days approaching on the ground, we were ready for a full-day game drive on the Serengeti that shattered all preconceived expectations. We realized we weren’t on the Serengeti just to see animals. We were there to experience them in their natural habitat.
Zoo animals are beautiful creatures. They’re clean, healthy, and easy to view. But the only place to see animals in the wild is the wild, and there’s no place wilder than the Serengeti.
A Gnu Dawn
We woke the gnu-ing of wildebeest outside of our luxury tented camp. Technically, the walls were canvas and there was an outside shower, but Kubu Kubu was more luxury than tent. We had 24-hour electricity, hot water, cozy bedding, and an oversized deck overlooking the savannah. This morning, thousands of wildebeests were passing under our deck in a single-file line stretching across the horizon like ants going to a picnic.
We went to the dining hall for a full, hot breakfast, where Cathbert asked us the most crucial question of our trip. Do you want to return to camp for a hot lunch or take a boxed lunch with us? We were here for the animals, not the food, so our answer was easy and the best decision we made in a long time.
It’s About the Journey
There were relatively well-defined circuits through Tarangire and Ngorongoro. Roads stretched out in all directions on the Serengeti, so I asked Cuthbert if he had a plan for the day. He said we would drive around and see things, which was all the planning we needed.
As soon as we left Kubu Kubu, we saw a dung beetle rolling its namesake prize down the road. Before we left the access road, we encountered a wildebeest herd making its way from night camp on the nearby highlands to grazing on the plains. There were so many of them, and they were so loud. We could hear their snorts, hooves, and gnus all around us.
As we traveled down the road, ribbons of wildebeest crossed in front of us, always following the lead of the zebras. We looked towards the high grass and saw a family of lions watching the herd with keen interest.
Life on the Serengeti was dynamic, constantly flowing from scene to scene, place to place. We got snapshots of life as we drove and stopped when anything interesting popped up.
Cheetahs Can Prosper
We saw a small congregation of jeeps and nosed closer for our day’s first stop. A lone adult cheetah was rolling and playing near the jeeps. She was sleek, beautiful, and very much a cat. We couldn’t guess what she heard, but she went from playfully rolling to on the prowl in a flash. She got up and wandered away in complete cat indifference.
We kept thinking of her and spotted her again with a freshly killed gazelle. Not only are cheetahs the fastest runners on the plains, but they are also the fastest eaters. Within 15-20 minutes, she wolfed down the little gazelle, stood up, and wandered off with a full belly.
Spotting Leopards
We joked with Cathbert after our cheetah encounter that all we needed was a leopard to complete our big cat trifecta. We drove for about 15 minutes and pulled over. He said a leopard hunting gazelle was up on the ridge about 1/2 mile away.
We could see the gazelle, but it took us a long time to see the elusive cat. We watched her stalk her prey, which was surprisingly uneventful because stalking cats are very good at staying hidden. All of a sudden, the gazelle scattered. Cuthbert claimed she got one, but we couldn’t tell. We soon lost track of her without gazelles as a reference.
Two in The Bush Works Just Fine
Cuthbert spotted her again, hauling her prize down the hillside. She was coming a little closer but mostly traveling across. It took her over a 1/2 hour of struggling with her kill to travel a mile to a tree near the road before stopping in a thick bush for a short rest.
A baby gazelle charged into the bush where the leopard was resting but never remerged. Mama leopard came out with the smaller gazelle in her mouth and hauled it up into the tree before returning for the larger gazelle. We thought she was going to feast, but she took a well-deserved rest before climbing down, taking a drink, and disappearing into the grass.
Front Row Seats to the Cat Show
There were many jeeps at the scene by that time. They all dispersed after her, but Cuthbert suggested we pull into the prime spot by the tree, eat our lunch, and wait. We had just finished when we saw her return with her cub.
She bounded up the tree, but baby sat at the bottom and let out a pathetic little cry. Like a good mother, she patiently waited for him to figure it out and follow behind her. She opened up the kill and let the little one have first dibs. Eventually, after much playing, he ate lunch and settled next to momma for a nap.
Amorous Antelopes
The love between a mother and child is undeniable, but Cathbert says the biggest love story on the Serengeti is between the smallest antelope. Despite my off-color mnemonic, the dik-dik antelope mate for life. Their love is so strong that the surviving partner often only lives for a few days after the death of their mate. That’s a lot of heart for a little creature barely over a foot tall, even if you measure from the base.
After our leopard encounter, we saw a pair of dik-diks foraging in the bushes, followed by a massive family of impalas. Impalas have the opposite family strategy. This herd had a single alpha male with about 20 mates and as many younglings. Throughout our trip, we only saw two types of impala herds – a family group, like this one, with a single alpha male or a bachelor group that was only young males.
The Rains Down in Africa
A torrential afternoon downpour cut our impala viewing short. We rolled up the windows and headed to the one and only gas station to try and fill up before tomorrow’s drive across the Serengeti. A week or two of light rain had made everything turn green, but a heavy rain could wash out the roads. It was already raining hard enough that they stopped dispensing fuel at the station because the refilling truck was waiting out the storm.
The animals didn’t seem to mind. The antelopes, giraffes, and zebra carried on as normal, and we saw one enormous bull elephant playing in the rain like a kid in a sprinkler. As beautiful and refreshing as the rain was, we didn’t want our big cameras exposed to the elements. We headed back to Kibu Kibu just a little before dinner.
On the way back, we saw a double rainbow in the late afternoon sky, which gave us hope for dry roads in the morning. A little further down the road, we passed the lions from the morning about 100′ down the road from where we first spotted them frolicking under an amber sunset. Even though we left early, we spent enough time watching the lions and sunset that we arrived at camp just before dark.
The Lion (Doesn’t) Sleep Tonight
There was one constant at every tented camp we stayed at. You call the front desk for an escort if you’re walking outside at night. A Maasai warrior walked us to dinner, which was a remarkably flavorful affair. That night, we had barbeque with a sauce that came with multiple warnings. Against Jenn’s warnings, I was craving a bottle of Coke to wash down the heat.
Maybe my wife was right, or I was processing the day’s excitement, but sleep didn’t come easy. I lay awake in bed, listening to the sounds of the savannah, when I heard something low and primal. It wasn’t too close, but I wasn’t going to go outside and find out. We double-checked in the morning, and the Maasai escorts confirmed what my primal brain already knew. The lions and hyenas were active during the night.
Safari Day 4: Crossing the Endless Plains
Willy Wonka mused that a boy who suddenly got everything he ever wanted lived happily ever after. He wasn’t accounting for serotonin depletion. Cathbert says Serengeti is derived from the Maasai word for endless plain. With our morning mood, we thought it was more like endless pain. The coffee could not come quickly enough, but luckily we realized that the lodges had to-go cups.
Eventually, we got rolling on our 2.5-hour drive westward to the Lahai Tented Lodge. We didn’t head straight there, and soon, the Serengeti worked its magic. Our morning mood lifted, and we had ample opportunities to leave the jeep to “water the grass,” as our double coffee also did its job.
Hungry Hungry Hippos
We left the lodge around 8:00, which was a relatively late start for us. The big herds of herbivores had already left their overnight beds on the hillside and worked their way down into the valley. We saw lions and leopards out and about. They were beautiful but not up to much, so we pressed on.
The first animals that drew us in were hippos. Scientists call groups of hippos a pod or herd, but colloquially, they’re known as a crash, thunder, or bloat. Their jolly bellies explain bloat, but as we watched them next to the jeep, we soon understood crash and thunder.
A Crash and Thunder of Hippos
The hippos were always in motion, from a simple flick of their ears to a massive yawn with their jaws open wider than 180 degrees. They’re always grunting, groaning, and articulating something, but the real show is when they poop. They back up to the pond’s edge and use their tail like a propeller to spread it as far as possible.
After an hour of watching the hippos, we decided they were like middle-school boys at a pool party. A little loud and stinky with a propensity for roughhousing and an inordinate fascination with pooping. The only difference is that, unlike teenage boys, they weren’t always eating. That was a nocturnal activity happening when they leave the water.
Rocks Rock
We were starting to enjoy our day with no expectations. We didn’t have to see another animal to have a complete safari. It’s like we were playing with house money. We took time to notice the smaller things, like a colorful weaver flying in the brush or a monitor lizard basking in a stream bed. Even the rocks had stories to tell.
Anybody who has seen Lion King knows about Pride Rock. In the Serengeti, those rocks are called kopjes and look just like they did in the movie. They’re rock islands in a sea of grass and are home to many plants and animals, from colorful lizards to mighty lions.
Crossing the Sea of Grass
We came to badlands as we crossed the plains, where a thin layer of soil covered a hard rock layer. Periodically, a lone tree sprouted through a crack in the hard cap. However, the dominant features were endless attempts at termite mounds.
These little builders would burrow down, only to be thwarted by an impenetrable layer. Undaunted, they could abandon that nest and try again a few feet away. In the heart of the badlands, failed nests covered vast swaths of land with near-perfect geometric precision.
A Towers of Giraffes
The parallel catchments of the Grumeti and Mbalaget Rivers form the Western Corridor of Serengeti National Park, with a band of hills called the Central Ranges in the middle. We traveled through the Western Corridor to reach Lahai Lodge.
Vast stands of trees grew on the flanks of the highlands because of the improved soil and abundant water. In turn, we saw enormous elephant herds and quite a few giraffes. Literature suggests groups of giraffes, known as towers, could number in the 40s; we observed that they always seemed to come in threes.
The pattern was so pronounced that when we saw a group of two, we stopped to scan for the third. We saw it lying on the ground in obvious distress. We felt hopeful when it tried to struggle to its feet, but our hearts sank as it settled back down.
The Final Approach to Lahai
A small sign marked our turn off the main road. Cathbert confirmed that a crucial skill for safari guides is knowing the way through this wilderness. The approach road circled a valley filled with whistling thorned acacia, so named for its symbiotic relationship with resident ants who play the thorns like a whistle when disturbed. We didn’t hear the ants whistling, but a heavy perfume rose from the scented thorn acacia as the sun sank to the horizon.
We could see the Lahai Lodge shimmering on the hill above us as we crossed the valley. When we reached the summit, the elevated views seemed to stretch on forever. The recent rains were enough to make the seasonal Grumeti and Orangi Rivers flow and grass sprout, so there wasn’t a blazing orange sunset charged by the dust of a long, dry season. Still, the sun setting over the endless plains was a fitting finale for our last night in Serengeti National Park.
Safari Day 5: Fly-out Safari
We’ve heard much about fly-in safaris to solve the logistic problems of long approaches on bumpy dirt roads. We chose a fly-out safari to swim with whale sharks on Mafia Island as the season was opening. That choice imposed a strict weight limit where photography equipment consumed more than half. It also had us starting malaria medication at the Lahai Lodge, commonly associated with GI distress, which had us dreading the two-hour drive across the Serengeti.
Even though we had a noon flight and a long drive ahead, we still found some magic in our final morning. As usual, Cathbert was waiting for us with the jeep washed clean, and ready to travel.
The Circle of Life
Cathbert slowed the jeep as we approached the spot where we had seen yesterday’s distressed giraffe. “Over there in the grass,” he pointed. Our friend didn’t make it through the night, and the scavengers were gathering.
The hyenas had arrived shortly before us and were working on the head and entrails. After 15 minutes, the vultures swooped in. They tried to grab what they could, but the hyena clan wasn’t in a sharing mood.
A Wake of Vultures
The name of a group of vultures depends on context. When they’re in a tree, they’re called a committee, venue, or volt. In flight, they’re a kettle. But when they are feeding on a carcass, the group is called a wake. A traditional Irish wake honors the dead and celebrates their life. It’s a social occasion filled with feasting.
The Maasai culture commonly practices a scavenger burial where the deceased is left in the bush for scavengers to eat. They’re often coated with blood or fat because it’s a sign of piety to be eaten on the first day. Given the crowd that had gathered for this wake, our giraffe led a good life and served many, even in death.
The Seronera Airstrip
I’ve eaten at restaurants bigger than the Seronera Airstrip. There wasn’t an air traffic control tower, paved runway, or even any planes. Only a windsock hinted that we were at an airfield, not a bus station. We checked with agents seated at a card table and pointed to our names on the manifest.
I’m not sure if they checked our IDs or put us through security screening, but they made sure to double-check our bag weight. We were given a color-coded boarding pass that indicated we were in the orange group without any boarding information and shuffled into the departure lounge.
We quickly learned that flight schedules were more suggestions. A few planes came and went, but there wasn’t a single screen to hint when ours would arrive. Finally, an attendant called for “orange,” and we shuffled to the exit. We handed her our ubiquitous boarding card to be used again for a future flight and headed out on the runway.
Wheels up on the Serengeti
As we left the terminal and walked to our plane, we heard Cathbert yelling our names. We turned to see him waiting to ensure we were ok on the other side of a chainlink fence. He was still taking care of us. We said our final goodbyes and boarded a 13-passenger plane back to civilization.
We had the 10,000′ view of the Serengeti out the Cessna’s window. Immediately, we noticed that there was way more grass than roads, even in the relatively developed central Serengeti. Over time, we realized the park’s sheer size as we flew for almost a full hour before seeing signs of civilization. Then, we traveled for another hour to the coast of Tanzania, and we couldn’t look out the window without seeing houses, roads, or cultivated fields somewhere in our field of view.
The thing about progress is that it’s always moving, expanding, and filling the vacuum of wilderness. Sometimes, the most progressive ideal is to stop progress. To preserve an area large enough to contain the Great Migration of over two million wildebeest and zebra and Stone Age tribes that still communicate with clicks and hunt with bow and arrow. You can see African animals at zoos, but you can only see wild animals in the wild.
Even though we were leaving the plains of Africa, our connection with the people, places, and, most of all, the animals will last a lifetime in our memories.
Disclosure: A big thank you to Altezza for hosting us and setting up a fantastic itinerary! For more Tanzania travel inspiration, check out their Instagram, Facebook, X, and YouTube accounts.
As always, the views and opinions expressed are entirely our own, and we only recommend brands and destinations that we 100% stand behind.
Hi! We are Jenn and Ed Coleman aka Coleman Concierge. In a nutshell, we are a Huntsville-based Gen X couple sharing our stories of amazing adventures through activity-driven transformational and experiential travel.