Our Kenyan Adventure
November, 2000
Finally the day arrived for us to start our safari, a long-awaited dream, but I wasn’t feeling joy. Instead a touch of sadness because we would be leaving the company of our English friends, with whom we had just spent two weeks cruising from Athens to Mombasa via the Suez Canal. Hugs and promises to be together soon completed our good-byes and we descended the gangplank to set foot on Kenyan soil for the first time. A thrill and a shudder of anticipation coursed through me. My relationship with Africa had begun.
We were transported to Mombasa airport where we boarded a Kenyan airways 50-seat propeller airplane to Nairobi. There we were greeted by Fred, our driver and were joined by four others whom we would travel with for the next week. The four-wheel drive safari van with pop-up top was most comfortable in all positions – front, middle or back seats. But an agreement was made to circulate positions every half a day. Traffic was heavy through Nairobi and we chuckled at the ‘Mitatus’ – vans used as local buses where the expression “Always room for one more” means they cram them so full it’s not unusual to see people hanging out the back door, or hanging onto the outside for dear life. We left the city traveling northwest towards Lake Naivasha. As we climbed around the mountain overlooking the Rift Valley, we encountered our first wildlife. Right beside the road, a family of baboons, unafraid of the busy traffic and us. We stopped beside an elegant male (displaying his genitalia with pride) but stayed in our van to take a photo. Unlike them, we felt afraid.
My heart was soaring as we traveled on, passing villages and marketplaces teeming with members of the Kikuyu tribe and displaying the most beautiful fruit and vegetables. Our destination was Lake Nakuru Lodge and what a beautiful location! The panoramic vista from the lodge overlooked Lake Nakuru below. We noticed a pink ring around the perimeter of the lake. It was the flamingoes in such numbers that we could spot them from our perch several miles away. The lodge was set in a profusion of flowering shrubs; each room was a little octagonal hut with twig chairs on the front porch enticing us to sit a while. The perfume from the yellow oleander, purple jacaranda, bougainvillea, flame trees of Thika and others I couldn’t possibly name, filled the air.
Lunch was served on the patio; a buffet of ethnic treats with a strong Indian influence. The tea, grown in Kenya, was absolutely superb, strong but never bitter. As we nibbled and sipped, a family of baboons frolicked nearby. We were warned not to feed them as they can become quite demanding and vicious, so we just enjoyed watching the youngsters tumble and play fight.
Our first game drive began at 4:30pm. The pop-up top of the van was elevated and all six of us could stand with our heads out at the same time. Only three minutes after leaving the lodge, we viewed our first animals. So exciting! Imagine our amazement to see first just one zebra and then another and another – unperturbed by our intrusion, as have all the game been. Then within the herd of zebra, we spied Thompson gazelle, waterbuck, Cape buffalo and impalas. It seemed as if someone had laid it all out for us, so hard to believe this was nature in the raw as we drove through the curvy trails meandering down through meadows and forest towards the lake shore. We passed a pair of black rhinoceros very close, gigantic cape buffalo in huge numbers and Rothschild giraffes – so graceful and gentle in demeanour. Our driver took the van right out onto the dried up area of the lakebed to the edge of the water. The pink of the flamingoes was glowing as the sun sank in the sky. As some of them flapped their wings and rose into the sky, we noticed bright coral markings on the underside of their wings. There must be millions of them; we all gasped at the beauty. Kenya surely must be the “Garden of Eden”. Segregated from the flamingoes were a huge colony of pelicans on the lakeshore. They allow us to walk very close to them before some take to flight. A jackal sauntered along beside the pelicans but they don’t care.
We are urged along by our driver as the sun will soon be setting and there is more to see. Into the trees we drive and we see a giant wart hog, posing for us and then his family appear, so close we could reach out to touch, which of course we don’t. We all snapped so many pictures that we wondered if we had brought enough film. And then unbelievably, we caught sight of a pride of lions lying regally beneath a tree. As we watched, the females slowly got up, stretched and wandered casually along. The male didn’t budge. This surely was the climax of a perfect day and with that and sunset we returned to the lodge. In one and a half hours, we saw more game than we thought we’d see in the whole week. Dinner, shower and bed with filmy mosquito netting surrounding us and dreams of our ideal day followed.
The next day dawned and 6:00 am a knock at the door and “Jambo!” (hello) – our wakeup call. No phones or other electronic devices exist to disturb the environment. Breakfast and an early morning game drive and then on the road to the “Mountain Tree Lodge” at 7,100 foot elevation on the slopes of Mount Kenya. It was Sunday and streams of people in their best finery walked miles to church along the side of the road. The colours of their clothing cross the spectrum in the brightest shades imaginable. The roads disintegrate to very bad as we travel further. They had once been paved – we thought maybe in British colonial times. Now the holes were so deep that it was an obstacle course for our driver to maneuver. Several times our heads hit the ceiling when he didn’t quite get it right. Luckily, there was some padding above. We passed tea and coffee plantations and thriving farms. Finally, we began the climb to our “Mountain Lodge”. Ahead of us loomed a knoll, on top of which sat our destination hidden in the foliage. This was Mau Mau territory. They inhabited this hilltop and surrounding areas during the uprising. It would have made a formidable bastion.
We arrived early in the afternoon and we had quite a long walk from where the vans dropped us off through a winding trail fenced on each side by eight-foot high logs. This was our first clue that the tables were turned and we were the caged ones and needed protection from the animals. The lodge resembled an ‘old west’ fort in construction. The weathered timbers were the colours of the forest and so the lodge seemed to nestle comfortably into the environment curving around the water hole. Suddenly, as we meandered along the pathway to the reception area, little heads popped over the top of the fence and dozens of Samango Blue monkeys followed us all the way tumbling and chattering and growing in number as we progressed. We were warned to watch our cameras and glasses as these mischievous little primates watch for any opportunity to snatch them. One of them did try to grab my binoculars but I held on tight, delighted with their antics.
I will never forget Mountain Lodge. It’s a magical kingdom. Every tiny room of the lodge faced the water hole and every room had a private balcony with padded benches and leaning counters with shelves underneath to stash binoculars, cameras and guidebooks. The monkeys clambered all over the sides of the building and you’d never know when they’d reach in and steal from you. We could hardly tear ourselves away for lunch and dinner. There was also a rooftop viewing area and a comfortable lounge with a crackling fire and floor to ceiling windows. It gets quite chilly at night at this high elevation.
When we arrived, there was a herd of Defassa waterbuck, impala and many birds of all kinds at the waterhole. Wandering in and out over the evening were bushbucks, red duikers, a big herd of water buffalo, a mongoose or two, bats galore, genets and some really nasty hyenas that caused a scuffle every time they appeared. Their barks and howls gave us the chills as the sounds echoed through the night air. They ended up having a terrific fight in the bush and one hyena was injured quite severely – when it came out of the bush about a half an hour later it couldn’t put weight on its front leg and seemed to also have injuries to a rear leg. We discovered a tunnel on the lowest level of the lodge that led out to an underground bunker with game viewing slots. It put us only about fifteen feet from the edge of the waterhole and in the middle of the grazing land above. How delighted we were to find a massive buffalo about three to four feet away from our faces, his huge head gently grazing. We could hear his snorting and crunching and he seemed unaware of our proximity. How hard to believe that the buffalo are considered the most dangerous of the African animals.
As the sun went down and dusk encroached, mercury vapour lights came on so gradually that the animals didn’t notice the change. The lamps cast an amber glow around the waterhole and there was enough light to continue to view the activity and recognize the species. That night, we slept fitfully. The sounds of the night echoed through the clearing. We were only able to recognize a few of the calls – the hyenas, for sure. Having left instructions with the stewards that we wished to be awoken if elephants, rhino or leopard appeared, we should have slept well, but instead woke at least once an hour and went out onto our balcony to watch the night action.
The following morning, as dawn broke, the peaks of Mount Kenya greeted us out of their cloudy shroud of the previous evening. The sunrise cast a pink aura on the snowy peaks. Birds started to awaken; monkeys and baboons came down from their beds in the trees and the waterbuck and duiker returned. But after breakfast, we packed up our safari bags and sadly bid farewell, knowing that one day we’d return.
The drive that day was a long one, practically circling Mount Kenya and heading north to Samburu. The countryside changed from mountains to hills and we passed the greenest fields of the most beautiful crops and then as we descended further, the land became more arid and the temperature rose. The people were different too; instead of the predominantly Christian (mostly Roman Catholic) population, now there was a mosque and women dressed in Muslim attire. In the town of Isiola, one side of the street is Muslim and the other side Christian. The colours of the Kenyan dress are vivid – red, orange, turquoise and all in iridescent shades, and as their principal mode of transportation is ‘on foot’, the street scenes were in technicolour.
The roads into Samburu are treacherous and we were bumped and thumped and covered with dust, but finally arrived at an oasis by the river, the Samburu Serena Lodge. We are craving a “Tusker” beer (Kenya’s best), so as soon as we are escorted to our A-frame cottage by the river, we freshen up and head for the bar. The main lodge is open all around, restaurant, bar and reception – and cool breezes waft through, rustling the lush foliage surrounding the hotel. The décor is of the Samburu tribe and spears and fierce-looking carvings dominate. The Samburu game reserve is set in a valley, the lodge nestling into the surrounding hills alongside a slow-flowing river. At 4 o’clock pm, we set out on our afternoon game drive. Once again, we were the only van where all six of our heads were stuck out of the pop-up roof in anticipation. It wasn’t long before we reached a wide expanse of open plain, only broken by low shrubs and the occasional acacia tree. Suddenly, a herd of elephants came into view and as we got closer, we noticed giraffe and zebra mingling in. What a scene with the sun lowering in the sky and the red earth gleaming. The animals all continued to munch uncaring of our presence even though we came within ten feet of them. The giraffes seem gentle and graceful creatures with long eyelashes. There were two types of zebra, the common and the Greves. The common one (donkey like in configuration) has wider stripes in apparent disorder, while the Greves’ stripes are narrower and parallel and have a white underbelly. The Greves zebra was more horselike, a far more beautiful animal.
One small herd of elephants decided they wanted to cross the trail where our van was stopped and started to paw the dust, swing their trunks and generally threaten us. The babies stayed close to their mothers, eyeing us suspiciously. The family had no intention of circling around us and made it clear that we were the interlopers, so we quickly moved on. As we meandered through the valley, we had numerous encounters. The tiny dik-dik, a tiny antelope, was very hard to catch on camera, darting away as we arrived. Their miniature stature and huge eyes caused us all to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at their beauty. We spied a family of mongoose, about twenty of them in all, migrating from one bush to another. The babies would roll into a ball so their mothers could pick them up in their mouths and quickly run them across the open area to the safety of their new home.
We stayed at the Samburu Lodge for two days and had early morning and late afternoon game drives each day. The following day, we made our mission to find lions, leopard and cheetah. The big cats make themselves far more scarce. We did (we think) spy a cheetah but from such a long distance that we were not positive. As the sun was setting and we were just about to head back to the lodge, we stumbled across three lions, all females fast asleep and cuddled up together only about six feet away from us. We felt such excitement and watched as they stretched and flexed their massive paws. But they didn’t get up. Our driver radioed the other vans and eventually eleven vans were clustered around. Lions are so elusive that we felt privileged to experience this proximity to them. We were then fairly satisfied to return to the lodge for a shower and dinner even though no leopard sighting.
I think the lodge keepers know that leopards rarely make themselves known without offering them some incentive. So just across the river from the lodge they had built a high perch to hold bait as enticement for the leopards. Every evening, a truck delivers a whole goat to the platform and within seconds of the truck pulling away, a leopard appeared gracefully jumping up onto the platform and settling in for the next hour to salivate over his easy meal. We were standing beside a short wall separating us from the banks of the river watching the leopard when we noticed a large crocodile swerving up the sandy bank towards us. A few minutes later another croc followed then another and another. Their stomach clocks had gone off – because every evening, the lodge feeds them too. I’m not sure what it was the men threw over the wall, but it looked like scraps of goat too and those huge mouths with sawlike jaws made quick work of the morsels. I was a little afraid that they could lunge over the wall at us, as the wall was only about three foot high so I shuffled back behind some of the other people who seemed totally unconcerned of my perceived danger.
We received an invitation from a Samburu tribe to visit their village. The invitation came with a twenty dollar charge per person but it is collected by the chief and goes directly into the community, so we paid happily. They weren’t sure we would be coming (about fifteen of us) so they scuttled around when we arrived, the young men getting their warrior attire and makeup on. The chief, a skinny man with large holes in his earlobes welcomed us and with the assistance of a beautiful young woman who spoke flawless English, told us about their tribe and led us through the little hamlet. The women, mostly with babies tied onto their backs with colourful shawls, had huge stiff beaded necklaces and performed a dance that reminded me very much of an ostrich’s movements in the way they thrust their shoulders and neck forwards.
There were about a dozen huts all made of sticks covered with hardened cow dung. The dung became the consistency of concrete but there was no discernible odour and it apparently keeps the mosquitoes away. The roofs were made of branches and palm fronds. The first one we visited was a home and we had to stoop quite low to enter the doorway. In the first room, lying on a hardened buffalo hide were two little boys, smiling shyly, and a tiny baby fast asleep. The only light is from the cracks in the dung and branches.
The schoolhouse is a one-room structure and the children seemed thrilled to chant the alphabet to us. It is very primitive and supplies are almost non-existent. We had brought many pencils and pens and were pleased to be able to donate them to the school. We only wish we had brought more and paper and books etc. They also love to receive logo items such as t-shirts and hats from foreign countries and absolutely love sports logos but we didn’t know this in advance and so sadly had nothing for them. Rebecca, the schoolteacher, uses whatever she can as teaching aids and is very imaginative in her approach. The children use bottle caps for counting and old computer paper strung around the walls with the letters and numbers on. Next visit to Kenya, we will stuff one large suitcase with all the supplies and other items that we can fit in.
While we were touring the buildings, the women of the village had a chance to set up stalls of their wares to try to sell to us. We couldn’t resist buying many of the beaded bracelets and a beaded belt that we had seen a young girl making, one little bead at a time. After all, these people had opened up their homes to us letting us see for a moment into their humble lives and entertained us admirably. I think that we all spent enough money there that they were probably giggling with glee after we left.
Our destination the following morning was Mount Kenya Safari Lodge, established by William Holden in 1959 and visited by numerous dignitaries and celebrities over the years. It is set in the foothills of Mount Kenya at 7,000 feet elevation, right on the equator – ‘oo’ latitude. The days were warm and sunny but the nights got a bit chilly. The lodge is very British in décor with remnants of “The Great White Hunter” era on the walls – tusks, heads, etc. This seemed quite a paradox seeing that now animal conservation is the focus of the resort. They have a wonderful animal orphanage and a program to protect and rebuild endangered species. Peter, a young conservationist, gave us a tour of the orphanage at feeding time and we delighted in the opportunity of hand feeding many of the species. There is a herd of Bongo, an almost eradicated species of antelope with white stripes circling their girth. They are such a gentle species and their velvety lips caressed my fingers as I fed them pellets, each of them waiting their turn without pushing. They have many acres of grazing ground but love to wander up to the compound and feast on the pellets made of who knows what. Four young cheetahs, abandoned by their mother, are being taught to kill their dinner in preparation for their final release to the wilds. A pair of pygmy hippos (a threatened species), who won my heart, resides there too; the female is pregnant. They trundled over to us with glee and opened their huge mouths like baby birds waiting to be fed. We carefully threw a handful of pellets into each of their mouths and they gobbled it quickly, opening up again for more.
Two white rhinos (very few left) grazed contentedly only a few feet (and an electric fence) away from us. The female is expecting but their gestation period is sixteen months and they only usually have one baby at a time, so it will take a long time to increase the population. There were bush pigs and wart hogs and ostriches with immense eggs. Colubus monkeys, who used to be killed for their beautiful black and white fur, until poaching was regulated swing in their enclosure, as interested in us as we are with them. They have just four fingers and no opposable thumb but seem to be just as dexterous as their thumbed cousins. There were several other monkey species as well and even though apparently confined in large cages, they have an opening to come out whenever they want. One of them jumped out and onto my shoulder when he realized I had food. His little fingers grasped each morsel of food and tickled my arm as he reached down.
Roaming freely around the compound are duiker (a tiny antelope but not as small as the dik-dik), a couple of sheep, a red setter, a baby buffalo and several llamas (wrong continent – I’m not sure why they are there), a young pair of jackals awaiting release when mature, many crowned crane (national bird of Uganda) who just choose to reside there, two zebra crossed with a horse, so they had black stripes on a brown background --- Zorse? ----- Hebra? This I decided was my Utopia. How I would love to work here in this environment.
We left the orphanage just in time to have afternoon tea in the bar of the Mount Kenya Club, overlooking the swimming pool, immaculately tended grounds and the peaks of Mount Kenya. A huge stork plodded up the hill from the pond below and stood at the window staring right at us with his beady eyes, willing us to share our cakes. The storks are to be found all around the grounds and are often seen sitting on top of the chimneys. Sacred Ibis in profusion barely scatter as one walks across the grass and as the sun went down, the ibis congregated in one deciduous tree beside the pond turning it into the most magnificent saucer magnolia tree imaginable.
Our cottage welcomed us on our return with a roaring fire alight in the sitting room we shared with a young couple. The staff kept the fire stoked and piled with logs all night long and the smell of log fires permeated the air pleasantly. A shower and change of clothes for dinner – the no shorts, jeans, running shoes rule was a challenge for some but it was nice in the oak paneled ding room to see everyone spit and polished. The cuisine was gourmet and seven courses and absolutely delicious. We found out with surprise that the chef was British, not French or Swiss as we expected. Dinner over, a tribal dance performance on the lawns was about enough for the day and it was a pleasure to return to our cosy cottage for the night.
The following morning, we got up at dawn to see the sun rise over Mount Kenya and after breakfast we said our goodbyes to the Mount Kenya Safari Club and departed for Nairobi, the safari now essentially over. It was about a three and a half hour drive to Nairobi and we arrived just after noon. This gave us lots of time we thought to wander around the city but we were warned not to venture out ---- verrrrrry dangerous! The streets were teeming with activity and we couldn’t see a single Caucasian face. This meant of course that, with my hair, I’d stick out like a sore thumb. But this never stopped us before so we figured we’d just walk a block or so away from the hotel because it was the middle of a business day and we were right in the center of town. We took off watches and rings and sunglasses and only had about $20 total in our pockets so nothing really to lose if we were mugged. They would be welcome to the $20! So we strolled up the busy street; no one paid much attention to us, so we strolled up another block and found a supermarket where we bought some of the wonderful Kenya tea and coffee we had been drinking. Even standing in the long line in the overcrowded supermarket, no one stared or bothered us. So we wandered over to the city market about five more blocks away, to lap up some of the local colour. The flies led the way to the meat market; and the stench made us trot through it fairly quickly. As we entered the central part of the covered market suddenly I was noticed “Just take a little look at my wares” and “You don’t have to buy, just take a look” and “It’s my turn now” or “I’ll give you my best price” all of them coming at me like flies to honey. I smiled and repeated – no thank you, over and over until we were able to exit out the opposite side. But I did enjoy our stroll around Nairobi – it’s always fun to wander off the main path. We made sure that we got back to the hotel before dark. Safely looking down from our hotel room window, we noticed a lack of lighting in the open areas and imagined all kinds of horrors taking place in the shadows.
Our stay in Kenya was almost over. This was our last day and we would be flying out on the red-eye to Amsterdam leaving Nairobi just before midnight. Our safari driver, John, arrived in the morning with a pleasant day planned for us. Our same group of six piled in to the van and we were taken on a tour of the city. Peter described the horror a couple of years ago when the US embassy right in the middle of the business district was bombed and leveled. Over 200 Kenyans and 17 Americans were killed. The blast blew out windows several blocks away. No one has been arrested yet. We then drove into the country to the home of Karen Blixen (Out of Africa), now a museum. Huge white tents were set up in the vast grounds for a Christmas party for several Nairobi cultural groups and immense barbecues were piled high with what I found out was goat. I asked the fellow who was tending the barbecue what goat was like and he immediately grabbed a huge knife and carved off several long ribs that he made sure were cooked well and handed them to me on a paper plate with napkins. I wasn’t really wanting to taste it – I just was interested but now I couldn’t be unappreciative so I pulled a bit of meat of the bones and stuck it in my mouth after thanking him profusely. I offered some of the others a taste, but no takers. Fifteen minutes later, I was still chewing on the first mouthful of goat (must have been a really old goat); it wouldn’t break down so I delicately removed and discarded it. I took the remaining ribs over to our van driver and asked whether he would like some and he grinned widely with glee and shared them with the other three drivers. He told me that’s what they cook for Christmas dinner – barbecue goat. I think I’ll say no next time it’s offered to me.
Next we had a visit to the Giraffe Center. The giraffes roam free on many hectares of land but come to the center for food. So we climbed up to a platform to the level of their huge giraffe heads with big soulful eyes and long eyelashes. I grabbed a handful of pellets and offered some to the first giraffe. His long blue tongue flicked out and slurped it all up. Then I had to give some to the next and the next and I couldn’t keep up. If you don’t feed them fast enough, they’ll head check you and that would really send you flying. Luckily, some of the others joined me to help satisfy the hungry beasts. There is something so satisfying in feeding the animals and being so close to them.
I made sure that I had a brochure from our safari company before we left for the airport that night because I was already planning our return to Kenya. Next time we’ll come for two weeks and perhaps travel down to the Serengeti and the Ngorongoro crater in Tanzania and perhaps a balloon ride over the savannah………….
Finally the day arrived for us to start our safari, a long-awaited dream, but I wasn’t feeling joy. Instead a touch of sadness because we would be leaving the company of our English friends, with whom we had just spent two weeks cruising from Athens to Mombasa via the Suez Canal. Hugs and promises to be together soon completed our good-byes and we descended the gangplank to set foot on Kenyan soil for the first time. A thrill and a shudder of anticipation coursed through me. My relationship with Africa had begun.
We were transported to Mombasa airport where we boarded a Kenyan airways 50-seat propeller airplane to Nairobi. There we were greeted by Fred, our driver and were joined by four others whom we would travel with for the next week. The four-wheel drive safari van with pop-up top was most comfortable in all positions – front, middle or back seats. But an agreement was made to circulate positions every half a day. Traffic was heavy through Nairobi and we chuckled at the ‘Mitatus’ – vans used as local buses where the expression “Always room for one more” means they cram them so full it’s not unusual to see people hanging out the back door, or hanging onto the outside for dear life. We left the city traveling northwest towards Lake Naivasha. As we climbed around the mountain overlooking the Rift Valley, we encountered our first wildlife. Right beside the road, a family of baboons, unafraid of the busy traffic and us. We stopped beside an elegant male (displaying his genitalia with pride) but stayed in our van to take a photo. Unlike them, we felt afraid.
My heart was soaring as we traveled on, passing villages and marketplaces teeming with members of the Kikuyu tribe and displaying the most beautiful fruit and vegetables. Our destination was Lake Nakuru Lodge and what a beautiful location! The panoramic vista from the lodge overlooked Lake Nakuru below. We noticed a pink ring around the perimeter of the lake. It was the flamingoes in such numbers that we could spot them from our perch several miles away. The lodge was set in a profusion of flowering shrubs; each room was a little octagonal hut with twig chairs on the front porch enticing us to sit a while. The perfume from the yellow oleander, purple jacaranda, bougainvillea, flame trees of Thika and others I couldn’t possibly name, filled the air.
Lunch was served on the patio; a buffet of ethnic treats with a strong Indian influence. The tea, grown in Kenya, was absolutely superb, strong but never bitter. As we nibbled and sipped, a family of baboons frolicked nearby. We were warned not to feed them as they can become quite demanding and vicious, so we just enjoyed watching the youngsters tumble and play fight.
Our first game drive began at 4:30pm. The pop-up top of the van was elevated and all six of us could stand with our heads out at the same time. Only three minutes after leaving the lodge, we viewed our first animals. So exciting! Imagine our amazement to see first just one zebra and then another and another – unperturbed by our intrusion, as have all the game been. Then within the herd of zebra, we spied Thompson gazelle, waterbuck, Cape buffalo and impalas. It seemed as if someone had laid it all out for us, so hard to believe this was nature in the raw as we drove through the curvy trails meandering down through meadows and forest towards the lake shore. We passed a pair of black rhinoceros very close, gigantic cape buffalo in huge numbers and Rothschild giraffes – so graceful and gentle in demeanour. Our driver took the van right out onto the dried up area of the lakebed to the edge of the water. The pink of the flamingoes was glowing as the sun sank in the sky. As some of them flapped their wings and rose into the sky, we noticed bright coral markings on the underside of their wings. There must be millions of them; we all gasped at the beauty. Kenya surely must be the “Garden of Eden”. Segregated from the flamingoes were a huge colony of pelicans on the lakeshore. They allow us to walk very close to them before some take to flight. A jackal sauntered along beside the pelicans but they don’t care.
We are urged along by our driver as the sun will soon be setting and there is more to see. Into the trees we drive and we see a giant wart hog, posing for us and then his family appear, so close we could reach out to touch, which of course we don’t. We all snapped so many pictures that we wondered if we had brought enough film. And then unbelievably, we caught sight of a pride of lions lying regally beneath a tree. As we watched, the females slowly got up, stretched and wandered casually along. The male didn’t budge. This surely was the climax of a perfect day and with that and sunset we returned to the lodge. In one and a half hours, we saw more game than we thought we’d see in the whole week. Dinner, shower and bed with filmy mosquito netting surrounding us and dreams of our ideal day followed.
The next day dawned and 6:00 am a knock at the door and “Jambo!” (hello) – our wakeup call. No phones or other electronic devices exist to disturb the environment. Breakfast and an early morning game drive and then on the road to the “Mountain Tree Lodge” at 7,100 foot elevation on the slopes of Mount Kenya. It was Sunday and streams of people in their best finery walked miles to church along the side of the road. The colours of their clothing cross the spectrum in the brightest shades imaginable. The roads disintegrate to very bad as we travel further. They had once been paved – we thought maybe in British colonial times. Now the holes were so deep that it was an obstacle course for our driver to maneuver. Several times our heads hit the ceiling when he didn’t quite get it right. Luckily, there was some padding above. We passed tea and coffee plantations and thriving farms. Finally, we began the climb to our “Mountain Lodge”. Ahead of us loomed a knoll, on top of which sat our destination hidden in the foliage. This was Mau Mau territory. They inhabited this hilltop and surrounding areas during the uprising. It would have made a formidable bastion.
We arrived early in the afternoon and we had quite a long walk from where the vans dropped us off through a winding trail fenced on each side by eight-foot high logs. This was our first clue that the tables were turned and we were the caged ones and needed protection from the animals. The lodge resembled an ‘old west’ fort in construction. The weathered timbers were the colours of the forest and so the lodge seemed to nestle comfortably into the environment curving around the water hole. Suddenly, as we meandered along the pathway to the reception area, little heads popped over the top of the fence and dozens of Samango Blue monkeys followed us all the way tumbling and chattering and growing in number as we progressed. We were warned to watch our cameras and glasses as these mischievous little primates watch for any opportunity to snatch them. One of them did try to grab my binoculars but I held on tight, delighted with their antics.
I will never forget Mountain Lodge. It’s a magical kingdom. Every tiny room of the lodge faced the water hole and every room had a private balcony with padded benches and leaning counters with shelves underneath to stash binoculars, cameras and guidebooks. The monkeys clambered all over the sides of the building and you’d never know when they’d reach in and steal from you. We could hardly tear ourselves away for lunch and dinner. There was also a rooftop viewing area and a comfortable lounge with a crackling fire and floor to ceiling windows. It gets quite chilly at night at this high elevation.
When we arrived, there was a herd of Defassa waterbuck, impala and many birds of all kinds at the waterhole. Wandering in and out over the evening were bushbucks, red duikers, a big herd of water buffalo, a mongoose or two, bats galore, genets and some really nasty hyenas that caused a scuffle every time they appeared. Their barks and howls gave us the chills as the sounds echoed through the night air. They ended up having a terrific fight in the bush and one hyena was injured quite severely – when it came out of the bush about a half an hour later it couldn’t put weight on its front leg and seemed to also have injuries to a rear leg. We discovered a tunnel on the lowest level of the lodge that led out to an underground bunker with game viewing slots. It put us only about fifteen feet from the edge of the waterhole and in the middle of the grazing land above. How delighted we were to find a massive buffalo about three to four feet away from our faces, his huge head gently grazing. We could hear his snorting and crunching and he seemed unaware of our proximity. How hard to believe that the buffalo are considered the most dangerous of the African animals.
As the sun went down and dusk encroached, mercury vapour lights came on so gradually that the animals didn’t notice the change. The lamps cast an amber glow around the waterhole and there was enough light to continue to view the activity and recognize the species. That night, we slept fitfully. The sounds of the night echoed through the clearing. We were only able to recognize a few of the calls – the hyenas, for sure. Having left instructions with the stewards that we wished to be awoken if elephants, rhino or leopard appeared, we should have slept well, but instead woke at least once an hour and went out onto our balcony to watch the night action.
The following morning, as dawn broke, the peaks of Mount Kenya greeted us out of their cloudy shroud of the previous evening. The sunrise cast a pink aura on the snowy peaks. Birds started to awaken; monkeys and baboons came down from their beds in the trees and the waterbuck and duiker returned. But after breakfast, we packed up our safari bags and sadly bid farewell, knowing that one day we’d return.
The drive that day was a long one, practically circling Mount Kenya and heading north to Samburu. The countryside changed from mountains to hills and we passed the greenest fields of the most beautiful crops and then as we descended further, the land became more arid and the temperature rose. The people were different too; instead of the predominantly Christian (mostly Roman Catholic) population, now there was a mosque and women dressed in Muslim attire. In the town of Isiola, one side of the street is Muslim and the other side Christian. The colours of the Kenyan dress are vivid – red, orange, turquoise and all in iridescent shades, and as their principal mode of transportation is ‘on foot’, the street scenes were in technicolour.
The roads into Samburu are treacherous and we were bumped and thumped and covered with dust, but finally arrived at an oasis by the river, the Samburu Serena Lodge. We are craving a “Tusker” beer (Kenya’s best), so as soon as we are escorted to our A-frame cottage by the river, we freshen up and head for the bar. The main lodge is open all around, restaurant, bar and reception – and cool breezes waft through, rustling the lush foliage surrounding the hotel. The décor is of the Samburu tribe and spears and fierce-looking carvings dominate. The Samburu game reserve is set in a valley, the lodge nestling into the surrounding hills alongside a slow-flowing river. At 4 o’clock pm, we set out on our afternoon game drive. Once again, we were the only van where all six of our heads were stuck out of the pop-up roof in anticipation. It wasn’t long before we reached a wide expanse of open plain, only broken by low shrubs and the occasional acacia tree. Suddenly, a herd of elephants came into view and as we got closer, we noticed giraffe and zebra mingling in. What a scene with the sun lowering in the sky and the red earth gleaming. The animals all continued to munch uncaring of our presence even though we came within ten feet of them. The giraffes seem gentle and graceful creatures with long eyelashes. There were two types of zebra, the common and the Greves. The common one (donkey like in configuration) has wider stripes in apparent disorder, while the Greves’ stripes are narrower and parallel and have a white underbelly. The Greves zebra was more horselike, a far more beautiful animal.
One small herd of elephants decided they wanted to cross the trail where our van was stopped and started to paw the dust, swing their trunks and generally threaten us. The babies stayed close to their mothers, eyeing us suspiciously. The family had no intention of circling around us and made it clear that we were the interlopers, so we quickly moved on. As we meandered through the valley, we had numerous encounters. The tiny dik-dik, a tiny antelope, was very hard to catch on camera, darting away as we arrived. Their miniature stature and huge eyes caused us all to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at their beauty. We spied a family of mongoose, about twenty of them in all, migrating from one bush to another. The babies would roll into a ball so their mothers could pick them up in their mouths and quickly run them across the open area to the safety of their new home.
We stayed at the Samburu Lodge for two days and had early morning and late afternoon game drives each day. The following day, we made our mission to find lions, leopard and cheetah. The big cats make themselves far more scarce. We did (we think) spy a cheetah but from such a long distance that we were not positive. As the sun was setting and we were just about to head back to the lodge, we stumbled across three lions, all females fast asleep and cuddled up together only about six feet away from us. We felt such excitement and watched as they stretched and flexed their massive paws. But they didn’t get up. Our driver radioed the other vans and eventually eleven vans were clustered around. Lions are so elusive that we felt privileged to experience this proximity to them. We were then fairly satisfied to return to the lodge for a shower and dinner even though no leopard sighting.
I think the lodge keepers know that leopards rarely make themselves known without offering them some incentive. So just across the river from the lodge they had built a high perch to hold bait as enticement for the leopards. Every evening, a truck delivers a whole goat to the platform and within seconds of the truck pulling away, a leopard appeared gracefully jumping up onto the platform and settling in for the next hour to salivate over his easy meal. We were standing beside a short wall separating us from the banks of the river watching the leopard when we noticed a large crocodile swerving up the sandy bank towards us. A few minutes later another croc followed then another and another. Their stomach clocks had gone off – because every evening, the lodge feeds them too. I’m not sure what it was the men threw over the wall, but it looked like scraps of goat too and those huge mouths with sawlike jaws made quick work of the morsels. I was a little afraid that they could lunge over the wall at us, as the wall was only about three foot high so I shuffled back behind some of the other people who seemed totally unconcerned of my perceived danger.
We received an invitation from a Samburu tribe to visit their village. The invitation came with a twenty dollar charge per person but it is collected by the chief and goes directly into the community, so we paid happily. They weren’t sure we would be coming (about fifteen of us) so they scuttled around when we arrived, the young men getting their warrior attire and makeup on. The chief, a skinny man with large holes in his earlobes welcomed us and with the assistance of a beautiful young woman who spoke flawless English, told us about their tribe and led us through the little hamlet. The women, mostly with babies tied onto their backs with colourful shawls, had huge stiff beaded necklaces and performed a dance that reminded me very much of an ostrich’s movements in the way they thrust their shoulders and neck forwards.
There were about a dozen huts all made of sticks covered with hardened cow dung. The dung became the consistency of concrete but there was no discernible odour and it apparently keeps the mosquitoes away. The roofs were made of branches and palm fronds. The first one we visited was a home and we had to stoop quite low to enter the doorway. In the first room, lying on a hardened buffalo hide were two little boys, smiling shyly, and a tiny baby fast asleep. The only light is from the cracks in the dung and branches.
The schoolhouse is a one-room structure and the children seemed thrilled to chant the alphabet to us. It is very primitive and supplies are almost non-existent. We had brought many pencils and pens and were pleased to be able to donate them to the school. We only wish we had brought more and paper and books etc. They also love to receive logo items such as t-shirts and hats from foreign countries and absolutely love sports logos but we didn’t know this in advance and so sadly had nothing for them. Rebecca, the schoolteacher, uses whatever she can as teaching aids and is very imaginative in her approach. The children use bottle caps for counting and old computer paper strung around the walls with the letters and numbers on. Next visit to Kenya, we will stuff one large suitcase with all the supplies and other items that we can fit in.
While we were touring the buildings, the women of the village had a chance to set up stalls of their wares to try to sell to us. We couldn’t resist buying many of the beaded bracelets and a beaded belt that we had seen a young girl making, one little bead at a time. After all, these people had opened up their homes to us letting us see for a moment into their humble lives and entertained us admirably. I think that we all spent enough money there that they were probably giggling with glee after we left.
Our destination the following morning was Mount Kenya Safari Lodge, established by William Holden in 1959 and visited by numerous dignitaries and celebrities over the years. It is set in the foothills of Mount Kenya at 7,000 feet elevation, right on the equator – ‘oo’ latitude. The days were warm and sunny but the nights got a bit chilly. The lodge is very British in décor with remnants of “The Great White Hunter” era on the walls – tusks, heads, etc. This seemed quite a paradox seeing that now animal conservation is the focus of the resort. They have a wonderful animal orphanage and a program to protect and rebuild endangered species. Peter, a young conservationist, gave us a tour of the orphanage at feeding time and we delighted in the opportunity of hand feeding many of the species. There is a herd of Bongo, an almost eradicated species of antelope with white stripes circling their girth. They are such a gentle species and their velvety lips caressed my fingers as I fed them pellets, each of them waiting their turn without pushing. They have many acres of grazing ground but love to wander up to the compound and feast on the pellets made of who knows what. Four young cheetahs, abandoned by their mother, are being taught to kill their dinner in preparation for their final release to the wilds. A pair of pygmy hippos (a threatened species), who won my heart, resides there too; the female is pregnant. They trundled over to us with glee and opened their huge mouths like baby birds waiting to be fed. We carefully threw a handful of pellets into each of their mouths and they gobbled it quickly, opening up again for more.
Two white rhinos (very few left) grazed contentedly only a few feet (and an electric fence) away from us. The female is expecting but their gestation period is sixteen months and they only usually have one baby at a time, so it will take a long time to increase the population. There were bush pigs and wart hogs and ostriches with immense eggs. Colubus monkeys, who used to be killed for their beautiful black and white fur, until poaching was regulated swing in their enclosure, as interested in us as we are with them. They have just four fingers and no opposable thumb but seem to be just as dexterous as their thumbed cousins. There were several other monkey species as well and even though apparently confined in large cages, they have an opening to come out whenever they want. One of them jumped out and onto my shoulder when he realized I had food. His little fingers grasped each morsel of food and tickled my arm as he reached down.
Roaming freely around the compound are duiker (a tiny antelope but not as small as the dik-dik), a couple of sheep, a red setter, a baby buffalo and several llamas (wrong continent – I’m not sure why they are there), a young pair of jackals awaiting release when mature, many crowned crane (national bird of Uganda) who just choose to reside there, two zebra crossed with a horse, so they had black stripes on a brown background --- Zorse? ----- Hebra? This I decided was my Utopia. How I would love to work here in this environment.
We left the orphanage just in time to have afternoon tea in the bar of the Mount Kenya Club, overlooking the swimming pool, immaculately tended grounds and the peaks of Mount Kenya. A huge stork plodded up the hill from the pond below and stood at the window staring right at us with his beady eyes, willing us to share our cakes. The storks are to be found all around the grounds and are often seen sitting on top of the chimneys. Sacred Ibis in profusion barely scatter as one walks across the grass and as the sun went down, the ibis congregated in one deciduous tree beside the pond turning it into the most magnificent saucer magnolia tree imaginable.
Our cottage welcomed us on our return with a roaring fire alight in the sitting room we shared with a young couple. The staff kept the fire stoked and piled with logs all night long and the smell of log fires permeated the air pleasantly. A shower and change of clothes for dinner – the no shorts, jeans, running shoes rule was a challenge for some but it was nice in the oak paneled ding room to see everyone spit and polished. The cuisine was gourmet and seven courses and absolutely delicious. We found out with surprise that the chef was British, not French or Swiss as we expected. Dinner over, a tribal dance performance on the lawns was about enough for the day and it was a pleasure to return to our cosy cottage for the night.
The following morning, we got up at dawn to see the sun rise over Mount Kenya and after breakfast we said our goodbyes to the Mount Kenya Safari Club and departed for Nairobi, the safari now essentially over. It was about a three and a half hour drive to Nairobi and we arrived just after noon. This gave us lots of time we thought to wander around the city but we were warned not to venture out ---- verrrrrry dangerous! The streets were teeming with activity and we couldn’t see a single Caucasian face. This meant of course that, with my hair, I’d stick out like a sore thumb. But this never stopped us before so we figured we’d just walk a block or so away from the hotel because it was the middle of a business day and we were right in the center of town. We took off watches and rings and sunglasses and only had about $20 total in our pockets so nothing really to lose if we were mugged. They would be welcome to the $20! So we strolled up the busy street; no one paid much attention to us, so we strolled up another block and found a supermarket where we bought some of the wonderful Kenya tea and coffee we had been drinking. Even standing in the long line in the overcrowded supermarket, no one stared or bothered us. So we wandered over to the city market about five more blocks away, to lap up some of the local colour. The flies led the way to the meat market; and the stench made us trot through it fairly quickly. As we entered the central part of the covered market suddenly I was noticed “Just take a little look at my wares” and “You don’t have to buy, just take a look” and “It’s my turn now” or “I’ll give you my best price” all of them coming at me like flies to honey. I smiled and repeated – no thank you, over and over until we were able to exit out the opposite side. But I did enjoy our stroll around Nairobi – it’s always fun to wander off the main path. We made sure that we got back to the hotel before dark. Safely looking down from our hotel room window, we noticed a lack of lighting in the open areas and imagined all kinds of horrors taking place in the shadows.
Our stay in Kenya was almost over. This was our last day and we would be flying out on the red-eye to Amsterdam leaving Nairobi just before midnight. Our safari driver, John, arrived in the morning with a pleasant day planned for us. Our same group of six piled in to the van and we were taken on a tour of the city. Peter described the horror a couple of years ago when the US embassy right in the middle of the business district was bombed and leveled. Over 200 Kenyans and 17 Americans were killed. The blast blew out windows several blocks away. No one has been arrested yet. We then drove into the country to the home of Karen Blixen (Out of Africa), now a museum. Huge white tents were set up in the vast grounds for a Christmas party for several Nairobi cultural groups and immense barbecues were piled high with what I found out was goat. I asked the fellow who was tending the barbecue what goat was like and he immediately grabbed a huge knife and carved off several long ribs that he made sure were cooked well and handed them to me on a paper plate with napkins. I wasn’t really wanting to taste it – I just was interested but now I couldn’t be unappreciative so I pulled a bit of meat of the bones and stuck it in my mouth after thanking him profusely. I offered some of the others a taste, but no takers. Fifteen minutes later, I was still chewing on the first mouthful of goat (must have been a really old goat); it wouldn’t break down so I delicately removed and discarded it. I took the remaining ribs over to our van driver and asked whether he would like some and he grinned widely with glee and shared them with the other three drivers. He told me that’s what they cook for Christmas dinner – barbecue goat. I think I’ll say no next time it’s offered to me.
Next we had a visit to the Giraffe Center. The giraffes roam free on many hectares of land but come to the center for food. So we climbed up to a platform to the level of their huge giraffe heads with big soulful eyes and long eyelashes. I grabbed a handful of pellets and offered some to the first giraffe. His long blue tongue flicked out and slurped it all up. Then I had to give some to the next and the next and I couldn’t keep up. If you don’t feed them fast enough, they’ll head check you and that would really send you flying. Luckily, some of the others joined me to help satisfy the hungry beasts. There is something so satisfying in feeding the animals and being so close to them.
I made sure that I had a brochure from our safari company before we left for the airport that night because I was already planning our return to Kenya. Next time we’ll come for two weeks and perhaps travel down to the Serengeti and the Ngorongoro crater in Tanzania and perhaps a balloon ride over the savannah………….