AUGUST 2014
On safari – eventually
In August 2014, a bunch of us went on an expedition to climb Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania. To be honest, we didn’t even really know where it is, but once we realised that the Ngorongoro Crater and the Serengeti were a mere hop, skip and jump away, it was too good an opportunity to pass. And so we found ourselves on safari.
Mind you, it took us a while to get there. Our man, Freddie, who was to be our driver, guide and compadre for the next seven days, picked us up from Arusha, and then took us on the longest, most convoluted journey possible to get to the Ngorongoro Wildlife Lodge. He pointed out several places of no interest whatsoever; “This is the International School in Arusha.” “George Bush visited a factory down that road.” And of course we were taken to the obligatory souvenir/craft shop, selling statues and masks that are so fearsome they’d scare the crap out of you while you were watching tv at home, should you of course make the fatal error of actually buying one.
Having been driven round the proverbial houses one of our party lost patience and had a word. “Why is a three hour drive taking close to six hours?” “Why are you driving so slowly?” “Why do you have a limp?”
He of course did not ask the last question. But Freddie did have a pronounced limp, and some heavy scaring on his forehead. I had visions of him losing his loved ones in a horrific car crash so was relieved when later in the week he revealed himself to be happily married with two kids, one of whom had recently graduated from school, and Freddie himself was doing an Open University course in tourism to further his earning potential. Good on him.
Having spent seven nights in tents on Kilimanjaro, we’d opted for permanent lodgings while on safari. But were disarmed to discover that the interior of the aforementioned Ngorongoro Wildlife Lodge bore considerable resemblance to the Overlook Hotel in The Shining, especially as it ran electricity only in the evening and in the early morning and was somewhat dark throughout. If someone had daubed “REDRUM” on the walls, I’d’ve been out of there in a flash. Mind you, if someone daubed “REDRUM” on the walls of any hotel I wouldn’t hang around to ask questions.
Aside from those wee gripes, the property was excellent. The rooms had fantastic views, the lounge was roomy but cosy, and the terrace was stunning – a broad deck running the length of the main building, decorative wrought ironwork, and a spectacularly expansive view across the crater.
And complain as we may about the travel time, we had driven through numerous small towns, seen several Maasai with their traditional red shawls, had a great view over Lake Manyara from the Rift Valley escarpment, views of the Ngorongoro Crater, and seen many of the remarkable baobab trees, with their spectacularly wide trunks and disproportionately sparse branches. For someone new to Africa, it was all absorbing.
The big five (nearly)
It’s still a lengthy drive over bumpy roads to reach the crater itself but we’d barely got anywhere before there was a large giraffe grazing just metres from the road. And then there were zebra here, there and everywhere. At the lip of the crater rim, we’re afforded stunning views of the crater with the morning sun breaking through the clouds and scattering great shafts of sunlight though the sky.
Once we descended into the crater itself the proliferation of wildlife is just incredible. Almost immediately we’d see large numbers of zebra and wildebeest, which hang around together and are apparently good mates. The zebra have superior eyesight and the wildebeest superior hearing, so they work together to combat the threat of lions.
There’s a long-legged secretary bird, the ugly marabou storks, a Kori-bustard, weaver birds and their elaborate nests, the brilliantly-iridescent and brilliantly-named ‘superb’ starlings, black kites, crested cranes and ostriches.
There are Grant’s and Thomson’s gazelles, baboons, blue monkeys (which oddly enough have blue testicles), hyenas and warthogs, ugly little critters that the latter two both are. And there are golden jackals, which, despite the fact that there is nothing in history or mythology to suggest that they may be evil, I still think of as so, thanks to the film The Omen.
The hippos are a sight to behold, wallowing in a watering hole, honking and farting as they do, flexing their huge jaws in expansive yawns, submerging then popping their eyes out to cast a wary look around. There are a few on land and they truly are massive beasts. And not ones to mess with. Despite their stocky shape and short legs they can easily outrun a human, are aggressive and unpredictable, and widely regarded as one of the most dangerous animals in Africa.
A cluster of vehicles at the roadside is a sure-fire indication of something notable to see, although in this case you’d need bionic eyes and uber binoculars to spot the black rhino lurking in the grass somewhere in the distance. We then encountered a shaggy male lion seeking shade in some trees alongside a river bank, and then, sitting right next to the road, almost within touching distance, a lioness and two cubs. They seemed utterly unperturbed by the presence of humans, cameras and Toyota LandCruisers and just go about their business as natural as can be. Magnificent.
There are many more nuzzling zebras and skittish wildebeest clustered around a stream. They’re drinking away happily, and then suddenly panic, and chaos ensues as they scramble away, for no apparent reason. Then they return to the river, carry on drinking, panic. Ad infinitum. I guess the threat of a lurking crocodile may be considered apparent reason, but there are almost certainly no crocs in this wee stream.
In the search for another black rhino, we instead found a picnic site and stopped for lunch. Freddie warned us to be careful as the black kites that are hovering around love a bit of chicken, but I wasn’t prepared for one to swoop down, brush past my head and whisk a piece of chicken from my hand, just as I was about to pop it in my mouth. It’s a good job I didn’t see it coming otherwise I would have categorically and unequivocally shat myself.
While I was reeling from my near brush with death at the hands of a gigantic bird of prey (slight exaggeration perhaps) a cheeky monkey did off with someone’s sandwich. Mind you, he had some difficulty removing the cling-film which may then have given him some unusual digestive trouble for a few days…shrink-wrapped monkey droppings.
As we were driving alongside a large watering hole Freddie was earnestly scouring the opposite bank, where there appeared to be bugger all. And then he spotted a black rhino. It’s a long way off, too far for our camera lens, but can be seen clearly through binoculars and is very definitely a rhino: a critically endangered black rhino.
When we encountered a herd of buffalo Freddie made buffalo mating noises in order to attract the beasts attention and get them to look our way – although I think the only thing he achieved was to make me giggle uncontrollably. He also told us how a guide friend of his was attacked by a buffalo last week and severely injured. You can’t help wondering if he too wasn’t making buffalo mating calls and was a bit too successful in his efforts. What a way to go…the paramour of an amorous water buffalo.
This list of creatures may not be entirely accurate, there may be some omissions, even some additions, in fact it could be entirely made up, but either way it gives some idea of the staggering array of wildlife in the crater.
And the crater is a marvel in itself. Whoever first found it, and recognised it as an almost perfectly round volcanic crater must have been beside themselves with excitement. It is the world’s largest inactive, intact, and unfilled volcanic caldera. It’s 610 metres (2,000 feet) deep and the floor covers 260 square kilometres (100 square miles). The volcano that collapsed in on itself to create the caldera must have been a whopper, possibly similar in size to Kilimanjaro.
A walk on the wild side
Part of our itinerary included a walk through the bush in the company of a Maasai ranger. To be honest, I was expecting a Maasai herdsman complete with red shawl and shepherd’s crook, so it’s a bit of a disappointment that he’s wearing military khaki and is armed – presumably to protect us from wild animals and not something more sinister.
But the walk itself is good. He takes us through a small Maasai village, and explains the layout, but also requests us not to take photos. The Toyota Hi-Lux appears a little incongruous next to the straw huts but they also appear to be embracing concrete and steel so I guess their traditional way of life is evolving. I did ask the ranger and received a lengthy, rambling response which made no sense whatsoever. I’ve still no idea what he said.
You can also look too deep for meaning where there is none. One of our group noticed some of the kids wearing keys around their necks and asked what they symbolise. There’s a bit of quizzical discussion back and forth before the villager says, “They’re to lock the front door”.
As we walked across the hills we were followed, at considerable distance by a group of kids, who appeared wary of coming too close, either out of genuine fear of foreigners or simply playing games. As we turned back through the village we collected a few more kids who were less shy about meeting foreigners and not concerned about having their picture taken, especially when we took selfies with them and then showed them their own delighted faces.
We got back to the truck, with our army of friends, to find that Freddie had set out some chairs and a table and some beers, so that we can sit and watch the sunset. So there is an awful picture taken of the white men sitting on their directors chairs contentedly drinking their beers with a bunch of hungry looking Maasai kids in the background.
Up close with giants
Next on the agenda is Lake Manyara National Park. It claims to be home to tree-climbing lions but I can’t confirm that as we didn’t see any. But almost as soon as we got there we did see numerous troops of the ubiquitous baboons, some bushbucks, dik-diks and klipspringers as we drive slowly through the forest.
Near the eponymous lake there is a hippo-viewing spot – which is a bit contrived but given how dangerous the buggers probably the most sensible option. But it’s clear that one of the primary attractions here is the incredible birdlife. Within one relatively small watering hole there are cranes, egrets, pelicans, herons, yellow-billed storks, geese, ducks, cormorants and countless other feathered brethren that I sadly don’t know.
The sight of giant pelicans, soaring on thermals in large, disorganized flocks, and seeing how graceful they are, is quite amazing. They come in to land as if by parachute; gracefully, steadily, airily. The storks on the other hand are anything but elegant. They approach landing like kamikaze pilots careering out of control, coming in to land too fast, before, at the last minute, arresting their wayward dive, correcting their direction, and putting the brakes on just in time to land. It is like waiting for a car crash to happen.
As we wound our way on through the park there were zebra, wildebeest and giraffe. And a few minutes later Freddie had us right alongside a herd of elephants as they grazed next to the track. There were two adult females, one juvenile and one baby, estimated by Freddie, to be just a few days old, and I’d swear you couldn’t get any closer in a zoo. They are such slow, ambling, amiable looking creatures, but you don’t for a moment forget the size and power. Absolutely magical.
Throughout the day we’d see dozens more elephants, all invariably close up. One young male I suspect we encountered just as he and his mate were about to get amorous and he didn’t seem too pleased. He glared in our direction, made some elephant noises, took a step forward, and Freddie was out of there in a flash.
Lake Manyara is a soda lake with a high concentration of pink flamingos. Unfortunately it was the dry season, which means the lake is relatively low, small and largely inaccessible, so our only glimpse of masses of flamingos is through the binoculars, and even then it is little more than an indistinct pink blur in the distance.
Freddie clearly then had a tip off about something as he hared off up the track not stopping the truck for anything. And after fifteen minutes or so we came across a dry river bed where a pride of lions were seeking shelter from the sun. There were two males, two females, one juvenile and one cub – the adults resting in the shade of the trees and the cubs playing in the dry river (or wadi to give it it’s technical name).
Safari-goers talk about the Big Five, a term coined by the big-game hunters of yore to refer to the five most difficult and dangerous animals in Africa to hunt on foot. Obviously today’s safari-goers are neither big game hunters nor on foot but the term still works. In this part of Africa the big five are the lion, elephant, buffalo, leopard, and rhinoceros. Which means we’ve managed to see four out of five. This is not about ticking things off lists, or dumbing down the whole safari experience to say ‘I’ve seen an elephant, what’s next’, but that’s not bad going. And we still have the magic of the Serengeti to come.
See more photos at Black and white safari
Useful links:
Ngorongoro Wildlife Lodge: https://www.hotelsandlodges-tanzania.com/properties/en/ngorongoro_index.php