After navigating the quirky Tanzanian/Kenyan border crossing, we boarded our short flight, more like a hop, to the Masai Mara – our last stop on the safari circuit. We landed on the remote Mara Ol Kiombo airstrip (unpaved and in a swirl of dust) and were greeted by our guides from the Mara Expedition Camp, Julius and his apprentice Diana. The Great Plains Conservation land cruiser was outfitted such that it beckoned a bygone era with the wood detailing and leather accessories.
I had been pining over Great Plains Conservation for years, drifting into a sort of dream state, imagining the golden age of exploration complete with campaign furniture and vast plains teaming with game as far as the eye could see. Founded by National Geographic photographers Derek and Beverly Joubert, they own a string of lodges stretching from Kenya to the Okavango Delta. They fund anti-poaching units and private concessions; not only do you get an exclusive experience, but you also enjoy the privacy of the concessions which is like eating at a rugged Michelin Star restaurant – with the added satisfaction of knowing the money you are spending is helping to protect fragile wildlife corridors.
As we drove across the plains, the views emerged into what I had imagined; you don’t think there is game anywhere because the horizon seems unreachable. We stopped off for a bush tea break under the shade of a fig tree, stretching our legs and adjusting our senses to the calm.
When we arrived at the Mara Expedition Camp it felt as though we had walked through a portal in time: Huge black and white animal prints adorned the walls that surrounded a collection of african furniture and artifacts – leather, teak, including massive moroccan lamps harking back to the colonial days, all on display in a flourish of understated class. There are only six tents in all, with the main lodge and dining area set in a snug grove of acacia trees.
Our tent was a short yet meandering walk from the main area. It was set on a polished wood platform, complete with a campaign desk, a leather journal, USB plugs and our own wi-fi; technology being present but obscured by the furniture design. Trunks and rugs adorned the terrace and tent allowing one to go about in barefoot bliss. The bathroom, shower and dressing area were outfitted with polished brass fittings including such details as animal faces carved into the brass plugs. We had a lovely teak table and director chairs on the terrace and even the zipper pulls were fitted with colorful Masai beading.
The area was absent the normal invasion of flies (including the dreaded tetse) and it was off-season for the mosquitoes. The breeze carried the woody scent of acacia through the tent and it felt good to be able to breathe so deeply; I felt a sense of tranquility I hadn’t felt in days, the only rush being a band of baboons that went hurtling past the tent.
This was bohemian living – African style.
Bob unfortunately had taken ill with a balance issue he had been battling for several months. The bush flights were bumpy and in some cases we had to make multiple stops to drop passengers off at different airstrips. Add to that the immense amount of off-road jolting for the last several days, caused his condition to reach a tipping point. On the bright side he had an outstanding venue in which to recuperate and would hopefully get out on safari the next day.
After lunch, I was happy to lounge around the main area as Bob got a massage; other guests must have been out as I had the whole area to myself🥰
I took time walking around the grounds which was safe during the day. There was an electric fence around the perimeter to keep the elephants and giraffe at bay, otherwise the trees would have been stripped and who knows what other damage could occur. Predators were still allowed to roam freely though, and after dark lions have killed game near the dining tent…while the guests were having dinner. A rare occurrence but still gives you a sort of unnerving pause just the same.
After a nap, we enjoyed a lovely dinner with the lodge fire blazing nearby and the kerosene lanterns dotted everywhere. The service and food were superb, and I found the meals in Africa to be meat (or vegan options), vegetables and rice with woody undertones of African spices and a simple portion of desert. There was a group of Americans at the larger table and the night lit up with laughter.
We were escorted to our room which was being attended by David, a tall elegant gentleman with an easy manner and ready smile. He became one of our favorite staff. After a restful night’s sleep without much activity, except for calls of distant hyenas, we woke to David-the-favorite bringing us coffee and biscuits. It really was a heinous privilege!
Bob wasn’t up to the challenge of a morning safari, so I wound up setting out solo with the two guides, greeting the sunrise across the Masai Mara as huge as an African smile. I was now embarking on an impossible reality; until now I only held inadequate ideas of what to expect. As the sun rose, we passed a scattering of backlit topi and gazelles, traversed brackish gullies, one that I thought we would be stuck in for sure, and then spotted several other land cruisers in the distance. Julius spied the group with his binoculars.
…cheetah.
If the lion is the king, then the cheetah must be the supreme diety of the savannah; worshipped without shame above all the other felines.
We arrived with only a few other vehicles, which was just as fortunate as her presence. There she stood, her head just above the grass, then like an apparition she glided through the grass, pacing the way angels pace themselves so as not to disturb us mere mortals, the sun positioned at such an angle her spots shone like solar flares across her fur.
The savannah is always a mesmerizing experience, but add a cheetah to the mix and you could easily become her prey. Like Medusa, you stare into her eyes and become transfixed as though you wished for a privileged death at the threshold of such a magnificent creature.
Hello gorgeous
Julius watched her trajectory and slid the rover past the others towards a fallen acacia, though I was a bit concerned that we were moving away from her. We arrived with only two other vehicles, he whispered “if we are lucky, she will climb on top.” We watched for several minutes as she strolled through the tide of grass and then, as if mama Africa had handed her a script, mounted the tree, stretching and looking about; it was as though we did not exist. She took her place upon the tree, like a goddess on a throne: I could almost see her taking a paw and positioning the sun just right, and saying “see, who really is the most beautiful of them all.”
It was at that moment I could have exited this earth with little complaint.
I would have been happy with a clear view of her on a small clutch of rocks and had not remotely expected a travel brochure moment. I couldn’t believe my eyes, transfixed, if not paralyzed by this moment in time. Then she decided she was done with us mere mortals, leapt off the tree and sauntered through the grass before becoming a glint in the sun.
A seminal moment on safari
At this point Julius said we need to go as we were apparently somewhat off-road at that point and the rangers would be by. As we drove away the other vehicles followed her and within a few minutes, alas, the rangers showed up and dispersed the other vehicles; crowding her too much could prevent her from pursuing game and frankly, after such a magnificent display why not just leave it there???
Julius and his intuition became the highlight of my safari experience. I relaxed into my seat and watched the game go about their morning business as we made our way to a convenient breakfast spot, overlooking the savannah and in grand African style, and of course with more food than I could possibly eat.
Sure, we have now seen just about every animal at this point, but it’s their placement in different parts of the continent that make it so special. Just being in the Masai Mara, in the high plateau of thin, undisturbed air, brings a clarity and freedom as opposed to the more condensed, touristed areas. There are so many places that go unexplored, absent vehicles and disturbances, you can refresh your weary mind and commune with the animals; they don’t suffer the human constructs of existential crisis’ and it’s as though you are given permission to just blend in with the rhythm of the land.
After lunch and a short nap I decided to go out on the afternoon drive; Bob was content to relax at the lodge. We were mostly on our own, which isn’t so difficult to do; you may see a vehicle kick up dust in the distance, and as the heat and wind builds up and then recedes the grass feels alive once again. The lions we met on the way were still sleeping it off and the antelope were content for the moment; they do not fear the day – that is the only time we can even walk around the camp without being escorted by a Masai Warrior, so we can relate.
I know how he feels
During our afternoon jaunt, we ventured past a hyena hide, basically a nest in the low bush and you could see where the dirt had been smoothed out from use. And then we happened upon herds of elephants, with adolescents in tow.
Elephants – always
Due to the density of the wildebeest in the Serengeti, there were a fair amount of carcasses but in the Masai Mara we didn’t run into as much, but you still see the occasional bones, and wonder how many generations they have been sitting there.
Julius had been informed that there had been a leopard sighting and if there was any event that dulled my experience it was the fifteen some-odd vehicles crammed around a grove of acacias to catch a glimpse. When we arrived there were a few vehicles that were shamelessly crushing their way into the trees for a better view. Julius said the leopard was asleep and would probably leave once the vehicles were gone. I told him Hakuna Matata – this is not how I wanted to experience the local wildlife. We abandoned the love-fest and headed up to a knoll where we stopped and settled in for a sundowner; this would be my last afternoon safari and I celebrated the day with a nice spot of whiskey.
Below us was the leopard-grove, hiding the cluster of vehicles, and I was content to watch the sun draw down into a beautiful evening. The gazelles were kicking up dust as they clustered together for the evening. I asked Julius if they did that for safety reasons and he said yes, the herds will start coming together at dusk for the “night is dark and full of terrors.”
Sundowner on the Masai Mara
The leopard-grove-love-fest vehicles had dispersed, and we ventured back down to see if we could catch a glimpse of the feline in question, but it was too dark and Julius suspected that he had moved on. We headed back to the lodge as the plains drew her curtains and we arrived to the glow of lanterns marking the pathways and a welcoming campfire.
During the night I heard the occasional hyena, but otherwise dreamt about legacies of bones and filaments of grass disturbed only by the passing of a cheetah.
In the morning we set out for the Mara Concession; Bob remained absent and bid me an adventurous morning. As the sun rose, I could see giraffes patterned in miniature against the dawn. We drove through some pretty rough roads reminiscent of the Ngorongoro Crater, but soon came to the gate: Only private vehicles were allowed and a limit of five at that.
Within the concession was a Masai village that had been purposefully set-aside for the local tribe as indeed, they had lived for generations on the Mara. I’m sure Karen Blixen and Denys Finch-Hatton would have been thrilled to know that there were those who carried on their vision of preservation; hold-outs against the hubris of greed that has left Nairobi in the state it is currently in.
The roads then changed dramatically – they were dirt but well-groomed and I settled in as we passed through rolling hills and watering holes teeming with Cape Buffalo and then we broke over the crest onto a vast, flat plain. Here there were herds of Hartebeest that I had not seen since South Africa, and for a while the concession seemed devoid of game with a scattering of lone trees.
Cape Buffalo
Julius said we were heading for the Mara River, yes, the same one that feeds the Serengeti. As we neared, you could see the groves of trees hugging the banks and then large herds of giraffe and antelope emerged; it was as though we were heading into an unexplored wildlife corridor.
The Mara Concession
We ventured to the precipice of the river; the area struck me as the perfect camping spot and if it wasn’t protected, I could well imagine it would have been overrun by now. The guides set up the bush breakfast and we sat on the escarpment with a clear view of hippos, crocodiles and a herd of timid zebras on the other side.
This is what happens when you get my age
The swifts and the colorful bee eaters were swimming on the skin of the river, diving into their muddy nests, while the eagles became grounded in the trees. It was a veritable quandary of wildlife; Julius said this was his favorite spot and I would concur; it is a place where the likes of John Muir would set foot, not so much to find the truth but to return to it.
The zebra eventually dared one another to dodge the sleeping slug-of-a-hippo for a drink in the river. It’s a stressful affair because even if the hippos don’t scare you off, the insidious crocodiles may be in striking distance. This went on for a good half-hour with only two of the zebras wandering to the shore and successfully satiating themselves.
A typical day on the Mara River
We packed up (I was somewhat reluctant but vowed to commit to this place in memory) and headed out for the plains where we found lions mating in the shade of a bush and further on a large male guarding the remains of a zebra. I had only seen wildebeest kills and the hide of the zebra created a contrast against the muted tones of the lion. He had had his fill and was panting heavily, and I suspect would be in for a very long nap. An observant hyena noted this, and within a blink of an eye, retrieved a leg and high-tailed it to a safe spot.
A not so petit dejeuner
As the temperature rose I could actually see the mirage of heat coming off the grass, yet it really didn’t feel too intense.
And…more elephants
As we headed back, we skirted the Masai village, women in their colorful robes looking like facets of beads strung across the neck of a tree, swaying with the wind.
This would be my last safari drive and I was grateful to have ended it at the Mara Expedition Camp. It was everything I had imagined, if not more; it could have easily stayed a few more days.
Once back at the camp, Bob said the staff had found a nest of Bush Babies (tiny nocturnal primates), we stopped by one of the thick acacia trees and up in the branches one was slung over a limb, awake and staring at us with those huge eyes. Since they are nocturnal so it was a real treat. Then he pointed out the baby Bush Baby – I melted on the spot. I wish I could take one home!!
When we reached the tent I decided to lay down for a while; the flame of this experience finally burned down and I wound up convalescing in the tent; my body raging against the altitude and my inability to consume anymore. Unfortunately it was our anniversary and I was out of commission – it was almost as if the build up and let down of such overpowering experiences had depleted all my resources. Fortunately, even though Chem Chem had the date wrong, we at least had a once-in-a-lifetime celebration in the bush.
We were set to leave the next day: I managed some toast for breakfast and then the staff danced in with our anniversary cake that almost reduced me to tears (see the camp reel below). I had to tear myself away from this place, the atmosphere had put me in a dream-like trance despite my ailments.
On our way to the airstrip Julius got word that two cheetah brothers had been sighted; considering that Bob had not been on safari during our stay in the Masai Mara, this was a real treat. We arrived with only a few other vehicles nearby and there they sat, under a large tree, observing a herd of gazelles – or trying to if they could just stay awake.
Our safari ends in feline splendor
I’ve noted that lions will look at you but cheetahs look past or through you – as if you don’t exist, as if humans are so inferior we aren’t worth the bother. It is somehow fitting for the haute couture of the savannah.
Thank you Mama Africa for such an exemplary farewell, your children have delighted us beyond measure and I will think often of your treasures. The safari couldn’t have been scripted any better, except that I wish I could have enjoyed your embrace a bit longer.
Mara Expedition Camp Reel
Julius and Diana waited until our flight took off, it was a larger plane with only one stop in Amboseli. We soon arrived at the funky Diani Beach airport in the pouring rain, yet I felt like I could stand there and let it wash me clean. We were now south of Mombasa, on the Swahili Coast and back at sea level. At the private resort of Kinondo Kwetu we found a thatched roof paradise reminiscent of Hawaii, void of the summer crowds with only the antics of monkeys. I felt like I was floating to and fro with the surf, bathed in the perfect temperature ranging between 70-80 degrees.
https://www.kinondo-kwetu.com/
We were well away from Diani Beach itself, with its cluster of large resorts reminiscent of Honolulu. Kinondo is very secluded, I felt as though we were in our own bubble, virtually undisturbed, unencumbered, in the drift, and I was starting to feel like my old self. We stayed grounded for the most part, lounging around the pools and cabanas, save for our meals that were always served at a different venue in the resort.
Funky cabana-style lunch venue in an old boat
Besides the thieving black faced monkeys there was a family of beautiful Colobus monkeys that came through the resort, oddly disinterested in our food our belongings and were a joy to watch.
Colobus monkey
We ventured out for short shopping and snorkeling trips and were very content just to return to the resort where we could meander freely into the evening without the threat of being eaten, and at times collecting impressive shells on the beach that had washed upon virtually untouched shores.
Snorkeling in the Indian Ocean
On our last evening the staff set up a private table by the pool; they troubled themselves to bring the food from the kitchen to this unexpected, and final, venue. Lanterns lit the path and the pool surround, and we found ourselves dining in tropical splendor – the only sound being the surf and the wind in the palms. We don’t know why we were chosen for this particular experience but we lingered in the moment; it’s as though our anniversary dinner was transported from the Masai Mara to Diani Beach🥰
Who would ever want to leave such a place and would you ever grow bored??
I’m going to really miss this place
Though we weren’t heading back to a career or workplace, we knew the transition of reality would still be difficult after such phenomenal experiences, and that we may never venture to this level of travel-euphoria again. The price of privacy can be unobtainable for many, and we have been blessed to be able to indulge in such a fashion🙏
The next day we landed back at the Fairview, we decided to have one last dinner by the pool before our flight home; but our venue was short-lived when the heavens opened up and Nairobi gave us a monsoonal deluge, a sort of equatorial send-off sending everyone rushing for the cover of the bar: It was as if Africa was washing away the dust of our experience, preparing us for the stage of our journey.
In Conclusion
Africa in an untouched state is a formidable land, with roots that run deep into the human psyche…if you open your heart wide enough to let her in. When we left it was like a dear friend who had passed on; you navigated the headwinds together and the precious trinkets you’ve gathered have taken on a soul of their own. We surround ourselves with souvenirs until they too become bones on some distant plain.
There are no straight lines on the savannah, no matter how much you can try, Mama Africa will not allow it. She will wash out your roads, feed you a buffet of dust, and displace your sweat to the clouds. You cannot tame her elephants or zebras and her guardians will disperse you if you misbehave where her children are concerned.
I have reflected several times on the curious behavior of the eagle that had landed on the lawn when I was visiting the Blixen museum. It wandered about, like a protectorate of sorts. If Karen Blixen had a spirit-animal I do wonder if it would be an eagle, untethered, flying to great heights, drifting above the fray, while civilization forced the land creatures into an unnatural migration from the Ngong to the plains. But not the birds, as their song softens the blow of civilization to counter-balance its progress. Eagles, like the two lovers who soared across the Great Rift Valley, float in the elusive animal-ether of which the Baroness was a part. Silence will speak, said the animal spirit…if you just take a moment to listen.
FocalDreams 