After a lovely farewell from the staff at Chem Chem we made our way back to the entrance of the gate keeping our eyes peeled for any unexpected wildlife sightings; we did see more impala and as I write this I am sure they a paying little or no attention to the comings and goings of these strange humans.  When I leave a place I reflect on the silence brought about by our absence and the freedom that comes with that thought.  

We were met at the gate of the concession by our guides, Emanuel and Logi, from the Entamanu Safari Lodge.  Emanuel was an older gentleman having been a guide in this area for over 30 years and in my view it felt as if he was more of a wise sage accompanying us on our journey.  Logi was his apprentice whom he had known for a long time and was set to take over from Emanuel when he retired – which he hoped was soon; Bob and I could sympathize with his desires. The guides and drivers work very long hours and seem to spend most of their time on rough roads; they must adapt to this sort of thing that would make the rest of us go somewhat insane.  Yet they are always excited about the wildlife and showing us their treasures, especially the hidden ones.  

We spent most of the drive on a nicely paved highway that apparently takes you all the way to Egypt which was an interesting thought.  We then veered through more Masai land herding their cows and goats that for me was an interesting comparative study to the Native Americans who also managed to thrive in a place that seemed rather devoid of any lush accompaniments, but that consideration alone discriminates against a people who live in relative satisfaction with their lives – so who is really the more privileged?  As I sat in the comfort of the land rover, rolling by in relative ease, internalizing, much like I did in Nairobi, especially as we drove by the interminable Kibera slums (over 2 million people), at how much of the world does not experience my immunity to that way of life. 

Emanuel insisted that Entamanu wasn’t Chem Chem and Bob and I had no issue since we weren’t subscribers to Architectural Digest and had expectations of something a bit more rustic.  Emanuel said there are other “fancy people” lodges in the vicinity but not at the elevation of this one.  We didn’t come to Africa to be pampered, you can get that at any resort along the Mediterranean, though we did start growing accustomed to the outstanding service levels we were to meet along our trek.  

After a few hours we started climbing into the highlands with its deep red soil and lush vegetation.  The air reminded me of the Pacific Northwest for some reason though the landscape was set in a more jungle-like atmosphere much like Hawaii.  The elevation and positioning near the equator creates a rich elixir for the senses with a fascination of vines and thick undergrowth.  We passed through one of the local towns with its usual madness of tuk tuks, motorcycles and donkeys.  It’s a fusion of the new and the old, with the old ways being somewhat more practical when modern civilization fails you.  Though one does wonder how the art of carrying the sofa on the back of a motorcycle is cultivated.  

Soon we arrived at the gate to the crater.  The Ngorongoro Crater is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the largest unbroken caldera in the world.  The road that leads to the crater is not paved and the larger potholes are filled only every few months to no avail…as if by design; it was very busy so we had a lot of bumps, curves, exhaust, dust and what appeared to be near misses with other vehicles, but that was only true in the over-civilized imagination.  

I discovered that there are two classifications of dust on the safari circuit: Civilized dust that occurs on structured roads that is mixed with exhaust and sets your sinuses on fire and the uncivilized kind that blows through you as you rough-road through a savannah, seeping into your cells so you can become one with the earth, a visit back to a forgotten self. The latter is the kind of “dust” I hope to visit in my dreams. 

After what seemed like an eternity, (an exaggeration on about 45 minutes) we came across an orderly battlement of vehicles worthy of an outdoor cinema; this was a front row seat into the caldera from the viewpoint of a bird.  Like the Grand Canyon, you momentarily forget all your senses as you peer through the gates of heaven trying to reconcile that such a magnificent vista really exists.  Here Mama Africa cupped her hands and cried tears of joy as she gave birth, flooding the plains with a deluge of creation.  

We moved further up to our lunch venue near facilities (many times there are attendants who come and clean after the “flush” with a hose, because the water pressure may be in question) that apparently is a common meeting ground for tour groups.  I have found that many of the general tourist-area toilets (very true for the bush airports) are wanting for some reason – considering the volume of visitors.  The lodge facilities are typically great if not outstanding.  

We settled on stumps and fold-out chairs, mostly to avoid the ants at the picnic tables, and ate what had been given us from Chem Chem, sharing much of it with our guides as we were at this point already being overfed; such is the tradition in Africa.  

Unfortunately, Emanuel’s sandwich was torn from his hand by a passing eagle😫 On the bright side it could have been a seagull or a crow, but he was afforded a more prestigious grab.

We then meandered through the equatorial jungle that broke into highland grasslands, passing through more Masai country with their bomas, and as we gained elevation we could see the distant plains of the Serengeti and its earthly haze.  We turned off to the road leading to the Entamanu Lodge – the highest one in the Ngorongoro Highlands and in its own unique location on the rim; this location also affords you access to the crater floor before just about everyone else. 

https://www.nomad-tanzania.com/camps/northern-tanzania/ngorongoro-crater/entamanu

We arrived and after our briefing, decided to go on a walk around the highlands to stretch our legs.  We were accompanied by a ranger complete with a rifle and a Masai with a spear and a walking stick that I decided to use on the downhill slope.  It was a beautiful and clear day through forest and grasslands, there were elephant and antelope sightings though we didn’t encounter any, but we were graced by the giraffes who poked their heads above the acacia trees; referred to fondly by the Masai as “bush towers.”  We learned about the trees and medicinal properties of many of the plants.  We encountered the ubiquitous cattle drive, with the soothing tinkling of bells and momentarily became herders ourselves.  We managed to get about an hour of elevation cardio in before we went to our room and freshened up for dinner.  

We had our sundowner with others in the lodge, set near a lovely fire. We ran into Americans who would be staying at the Serengeti Safari Lodge so we would have a somewhat shared experience moving forward.  

At this height, It doesn’t take long for it to get cold and windy and after a nice supper we were escorted to our room (a practice we would find at every lodge) with a nice gas fireplace – that was truly welcome!  Our room had a bit of a Scandinavian vibe to it; very understated with cow skins and rugs so you could settle in for an evening, protected against the elements. 

During the night, the wind rattled things a bit and we were awoken at 5:00 with a tray of superb coffee that was placed in a kiosk built into the wall – much like a stationary dumbwaiter, so we can easily retrieve it without too much disturbance, and also letting the cold in.  We huddled in bed until the fire got us warm enough to get dressed.  As we stepped outside, bundled in almost every layer we had thought to bring, the wind mixed with the fog made for a very atmospheric, almost jack-the-ripper start to the day. We were escorted to the land rover, complete with blankets and hot water bottles.  We retraced our way to the entrance that lead to the crater floor; we wound down this portion of the road that has been, thankfully, repaved into cobblestone.  The mist started to lift and the sun eventually parted, revealing the treasures below.  

At the threshold of the cauldron, a rhino was spotted in the distance but it was too far for my camera lense, but we watched as he sauntered across the grasslands in solitude.  There were currently very few other vehicles in the vicinity.  

Our first stop was a fresh lion kill which at the time was a very novel event for us.  We were glad we were early birds because in about an hour nearly 20 other vehicles started to pile up for a look, even though only five vehicles are technically allowed at a time.  Many had up to six people packed in trying to get selfies; and fortunately for us being early gave us the best vantage point and the lions would be fast asleep by the time many of the other sightseers arrived. 

The morning meal with the lion family was a sight to behold, giving us Africa in all her savage glory; blood soaked faces and mama licking her cub clean.  The tearing of the flesh and breaking of bones is an auditory and elemental experience. 

We also had a chance to study two magnificent male lions before they too passed out for a day-long siesta.  Emanuel called one of them “Mufasa” and they were certainly stunning specimens (I sometimes wonder if he isn’t also referring to himself!).  There had been two kills as the remains of a wildebeest were not far away, on the other side of the road.  When you observe the family, even though their bellies appear horrendously full, they keep eating as they sometimes don’t know when their next meal will be. 

Mufasa

There was a troupe of hyenas and circling vultures nearby, but they hadn’t ventured too far as the two male lions were not far away, and I guess that was more than the scavengers could bear for now.  

As we were by a lake, we saw plenty of bird life including flamingos.  The area was rife with hippos who would move occasionally but were otherwise content to be enormous slugs along the shoreline.  

We managed to squeeze past the increasing number of vehicles, some that were blocking our progress, and at the point were happy to be extricated from the fray, and proceeded through the vast ecosystem seeing some stunning bird life – the Crowned Crane topped the list and proliferated everywhere it seemed. 

Gray Crowned Crane

We saw Ostrich couples and studied the vultures that looked very similar to condors. Many people think they are ugly, but like the hyena, they are very unique and necessary to the savannah.  I find them quite fascinating.  

We then moved onto more hippos including the rare experience of a mating couple  🫣. We then stopped for breakfast, which is basically an area reserved for tourists with decent bathrooms.  It was set overlooking a lake with an accompanying marsh with elephants, more birds and of course hippos; we witnessed two sparring which was a treat and of course you don’t venture too close to that sort of spectacle (one gentleman was getting too close and the guides started to freak out). 

As we ate and chased away the neon blue starlings on the hunt for breakfast bits… but this time the eagles were absent and we managed a meal in relative peace. The sun was breaking through the cloud layer making for ethereal backdrops with the game seemingly small against the dramatic escarpment. We even encountered a small wildebeest migration crossing the road; a prelude to what we hoped we would experience in the Serengeti.  The crater is an astounding area within its own microcosm, protected so the inhabitants can live out their daily lives in relative peace (save for us tourists but rangers can come and break up the “party” if the drivers get too aggressive).

We stopped off on a knoll overlooking the grasslands, a gentle wind ushered in a peaceful vista, filling my lungs to capacity.  I can imagine at night, even when the predators are restless, the peace here is palpable and it’s when the cauldron truly comes to life.  When one thinks of a cauldron it usually means fire, but here, this is a cauldron of life.  

We made our way back to the rim and ended the day with a highland bush walk, again with a ranger and a Masai guide that took us through a herd of giraffes who poked their heads above the canopy – they stopped and watched as we walked past.  We headed for our sundowner spot, all set up with an open bar and a lovely view, across the landscapes of the Ngorongoro – the sky becoming a picturesque magenta. 

We then began to hear the chants as dancers from the local Masai village filed in, in all their respective glory; it was certainly one of the highlights of the day.  

As the dancing faded we could once again hear the cow bells from the nearby herds, a background symphony that earned this area its name:  Ngorongoro echoes the tune of cow bells, as demonstrated by a song rolling off the tongue of our Masai guide.  There is no end to the charm of this place.  

The next morning our guides took us back down the road-from-hell and it seemed like even more tourists were winding their way back up.  After about 45 minutes we reached the gate and the accompanying mayhem.  It certainly makes for great people watching. I’m torn by the need for tourism to fund the people of Tanzania, and the abuses that accompany this sort of progress.  

Back on smooth roads again we were driven to the Manyara airstrip for our next stop, the Serengeti and the Great Migration. The strip is small and we were flying in a cessna so it was going to be cozy to say the least.  We bid Emanuel and Logi a fond farewell – we felt so blessed to have had a private vehicle with two excellent guides; they did an incredible job of showing us the sights and skirting any potential hoards.   We soon squeezed our way into the cabin. The she-captain tells you to fasten your seat belts but the gentleman across from us couldn’t get his belt to work so he tied it around his waist #thisisafrica.  As we ascended, the crater opened up below us, giving us a parting panorama as the massive cauldron and its inhabitants slid into the distance.