Three Days in the Mara

---

Day 1

We left Nairobi early this morning, the group divided into two little safari trucks for our three day trip to the Masai Mara. I was in a vehicle with seven other girls, and it was nice to have a chance to get to know each other and chat about where we've come from and what we've done up until now. Our driver is a Kenyan called Humphrey, and he's always laughing and talking in the third person. "You have question, you ask Humphrey. Humphrey tell you answer". He greeted us with "jambo" and he used the phrase "hakuna matata" within the first two minutes of meeting, so he instantly endeared himself to me.



The only thing we saw much of in the hour after we left the city was trees, ochre coloured dust, and boys selling fruit at the roadside, but as we crested the top of one hill, we saw the Great Rift Valley spread out before us. It was breathtaking, and once the initial gasps had died down, there was silence in the truck as we stared at it. Two mountains dominate the vista, one at either end, and fields and plains stretch off into the distance, so far that you can't see where they end. It was so quiet at the viewpoint; the only sounds were cameras clicking, birds singing and the occasional car or truck going past, whilst the inevitable people selling cold water and Masai curios stood a respectful distance away.



It took about an hour to drive through the Great Rift Valley, where we began to see cattle being herded in the fields and donkeys grazing at the roadsides. We came across small towns with locals trading at colourful markets or just sitting outside to watch the traffic go by as if they didn't have any cares in the world. Children stopped what they were doing to wave at us as we passed, and the look of delight on their faces when we waved back was priceless.



The final hour and a half to the Masai Mara takes you along a potholed road which soon turns into the sort of track that is found within the reserve itself, full of rocks and bumps and holes, and the conditions are so bad that Humphrey describes it as 'dancing' the last ninety minutes to the park. It took over an hour for me to start feeling ill, so I think I did quite well.



We arrived at our campsite - more about that later - and once we were assigned our tents, we headed out for a game drive. Our first sighting was a pair of dik diks, before we had even reached the gates of the reserve, but I wasn't able to get a picture of them because they are so shy and skittish. They are the smallest member of the antelope family, and it is said that if one of them dies, the other one won't eat or drink until it dies as well. Within five minutes of driving through the gates, we saw lovely looking birds with yellow crests on their heads, as well as gazelles, zebras and a family of warthogs.



At this point, it was such a new experience that these sightings were as exciting to us as any of the Big 5. But the Big 5 is what everyone wants to see on safari, and it didn't take too long before we came across a trio of lions, two females and a juvenile male. They weren't at all bothered by us. In fact, it took a while for them to even stir, and once they did, they only gave us a cursory glance before getting up, stretching, and flopping down in the shade again.



We moved on, and came across a herd of elephants with a few babies. One of them was about the size of the six month old orphaned elephant I saw at the sanctuary two days previously, but the other one was so tiny that we could only see the top of his back above the sea of grass, whenever the rest of the herd parted enough for him to be visible. Most of the time, they crowded around him as they walked. I wouldn't like to be the lion who goes up against that line of defence.



We found another juvenile lion further on, but this one didn't seem as healthy as the one we had seen earlier. He was all skin and bone, his ribs visible through his fur. After spotting some giraffes and a hyena, we returned to camp at sunset to find dinner ready and waiting for us. The night finished with the group sat around a fire under the stars, mostly chatting and laughing, but often just sitting in happy silence. It was magical, and a perfect end to a perfect day.





Day 2



Last night was an experience. The girl who will happily spend over £100 a night to stay in 5 star accommodation slept beneath a mosquito net, with baboons running across the roof of her tent and a lizard hidden away in one of the window covers of the adjoining toilet. Hyenas called to each other somewhere outside, and cow bells rang as cows from the nearby fields ambled past our campsite. As I lay there, I came up with an idea for a crime novel about a serial killer who rings a cow bell whenever he's about to claim his next victim. He's called the Cow Bell Killer. I haven't Googled him yet, so I don't know if someone's already come up with the idea. Anyway, I didn't get much sleep, all things considered.



Our game drive today started off normally enough, but after an hour or so we came across a cheetah resting with her baby. Like the lions the day before, neither of them paid us any attention, but soon the mother got up and stared off into the distance. She had spotted something that none of us could see, and she began to walk slowly and silently away from her cub and from us. Suddenly we saw a flicker of movement over to the left; it was a young gazelle, not quite fully grown. The cheetah stalked him, concealed by the golden-brown grass. It didn't quite seem possible that something I had watched in wildlife documentaries numerous times was actually about to play out in front of me.



But it did, and I swear I held my breath the entire time.



The cheetah launched herself forward and ran so fast that she was just a golden blur. The chase lasted no more than ten seconds, then the grass went still. None of us could quite believe what we had just seen, and we weren't sure whether the gazelle had got away or the cheetah had won. We couldn't see either of them. The grass was perfectly still, where before it had been waving madly in the wake of the animals' race. Humphrey started up the engine and slowly circled around to the other side, and we found the cheetah dragging her prey through the grass, stopping every few seconds for a rest and to look around - both for her cub, and to make sure that the nearby jackal wasn't going to come and take her kill.



We could hear a high pitched crying noise, which at first sounded like it was coming from a bird, but we realised that it was actually the cub. He was making the noise to let his mother know where he was. As the mother came into view, her baby ran to meet her and they both disappeared beneath some foliage to eat. We drove around to watch them for a bit longer, and the adult cheetah was so exhausted after hunting that we could see how heavily she was breathing, her mouth open to allow her breaths to come more easily.



I can't describe how it felt to witness something like that. Part of me wanted the gazelle to get away, but the other part wanted the cheetah to win. Either way, I knew that I would be unlikely to see something like that a second time. It was the ultimate struggle for power, a display of strength and vulnerability, and a lesson in just how tough the fight for survival in the Masai Mara is. I felt - and still feel - incredibly lucky and privileged to have seen it. The prospect of seeing a hunt in the wild, let alone a hunt ending in a kill, wasn't something that I had ever considered. But now that it's happened, it's something that will stay with me for the rest of my life.



It was a given that nothing we saw for the rest of the day could top the cheetah's hunt, but we carried on and found a herd of buffalo and a pack of lions. This one was bigger than the group we had seen the day before. There were six or seven lionesses and one male. He looked older than the juveniles we had seen on our first game drive, but still quite young as his mane didn't appear to be particularly full. Like before, none of these lions reacted overly to us, but the male and one of the females stared at us for a while before deciding that our truck was just a harmless, unappetising animal, and going back to sleep.



In the early afternoon, we crossed over from Kenya to Tanzania and drove for a few minutes to the famous river which plays host to the annual wildebeest migration. There were no crocodiles, but plenty of hippos hiding beneath the water. Sometimes they would surface from the water with wide open mouths, and I can well believe how much damage their jaws can cause. Rangers advised us to stay well back, but it was unnecessary advice. None of us had any intentions of getting that close to them.



We ate a picnic lunch surrounded by black faced monkeys who tried their hardest to join in with our meal, and looked sad whenever they were shooed away. Some of them managed to make off with stolen bananas, and one of them even got into our truck before Humphrey chased him off. As free entertainment goes, it was fantastic.



After the game drive, we went to the village of the Maasai people, which is within the gates of the reserve and surrounded by branches lashed together to act as protection from wildlife. We were greeted with a song and a dance by the warriors, who wore traditional brightly coloured clothing with their hair long and in braids. Some little Maasai boys, no older than two, did their best to join in. After, our Maasai guide gave us some information about his people. He told us that they live peacefully alongside the wildlife, and will only kill for their own protection or that of their livestock. One warrior alone is able to bring down a lion if it attacks. Our guide also told us that polygamy is allowed, and that a man may have any number of wives, though no one wife is any more special than the others.



The women sang and danced for us, some of them with babies on their hips, and then we were given a demonstration of how the Maasai make fire using specially carved implements, cow dung and dried brush. A tour of one of their homes came next, and it was fascinating to see how they live. The houses consist of two rooms, one for sitting and making fire, with alcoves to either side for the family to sleep on top of cowskins. The other room is for cows, so that milk is readily accessible through the night. The houses are made by the women and have no windows, so even in the middle of the day it is pitch black inside until your eyes become adjusted to it.



I had always assumed that living that sort of nomadic lifestyle, far away from civilisation and modern medicine and all the things that we take for granted, would mean a short life compared to average life spans today. But we saw the tribe chief, and he's ninety-six years old, whilst the oldest member of the community is one hundred and ten. They're all happy. They have no interest in the outside world, and their traditions will last for as long as they do.



Today was a real eye-opener.





Day 3

The alarm went off at half past five so that we could be at the gates for when they opened at six-thirty. Compared to our last two days, today's game drive was fairly uneventful. There were no exciting hunts - not that I really expected any -, and disappointingly, no lions. But we did see one of the two Big 5 animals that we had been missing.



The safari drivers communicate with each other via radios, so that they're all aware of any exciting sightings. After a flurry of conversation over the radio, Humphrey turned the truck around and headed off across the plains, all of us bouncing around in the back. The reason for the fuss soon became apparent. A solitary rhino had been spotted, grazing in the grass. Along with the elusive leopards, rhinos are difficult to spot on safari. There are only thirty-five rhinos left in the Masai Mara due to poachers hunting them for their horns, so to see one was a real treat.



This rhino seemed a bit smaller than I have always imagined rhinos to be, and after briefly investigating another truck and looking around at us all with a bemused expression on his face, he turned his back on us and trundled off. None of the animals seem to care about the human presence in their territory. They consider us neither predator nor prey, and I suppose that they have just adapted over time and have become so used to us that, for the most part, it's as though we're not there at all.



We drove back to Nairobi after our morning game drive, and tomorrow we'll leave Kenya and cross into Tanzania for the next part of our adventure. It's been an experience so far, and I can't wait to see what the next few weeks hold for us.

---