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Nairobi is a fascinating town, bustling with commerce and life. I particularly enjoy the Nairobi Museum, where you can actually touch "Lucy's" skull. The sign by the 25 foot crocodile's cage says "If you throw litter in, you must retrieve it." The bazaar of blue stalls offers a marketplace of myriad hundreds of avid capitalists promoting their wares. My home houses many treasures. You mustn't miss the world renowned Carnivore Restaurant, where waiters slap speared shanks of everything from aardvark to zebra onto your plate, and ask if they should carve. I admit to a liking for ostrich, but couldn't bring myself to sample the mammals. Personally, I delighted in the Horseman's Restaurant in Karen (named for "Out of Africa"'s author, Karen Blixen....Tony supplied the horses for Robert Redford and Meryl Streep's movie), owned by the equestrian Rolph Schmidt. Our own favorite Ride and Tie'r, Raymond N'gombia Thoya, introduced me to the place.
The adventure begins immediately upon starting out across the Great Rift Valley towards the Serengeti. Consider wearing your Troxel in the landcruiser! Towards the end of day, we rounded a stand of acacia trees to see green tents pitched in a semicircle, with horses tethered munching ample grass on the outskirts of the clearing.
Each tent allows two beds, table, and room to dance. Toilet and shower tents discretely hide behind the bedrooms. The dining pavilion, complete with linened table, would soon become our favorite habitat.
Each night a different serenade entertained us. Hyena's lilting laugh reverberated through the equatorial night. Leopard and lion voices huffed. The loudest and most inexplicable turned out to belong to the miniature rock hydrox, the size of a squirrel, relative of the elephant. (Some would vote for or against the snore of Danny, from tent #4)
Each day, we rode by not dozens, but hundreds of animals. Zebra, so like other equines, soon 'roused a bored "so what". Giraffe, however, never ceased to amaze us, with their otherworldly graceful movement. Those things in zoos are not giraffe. I have to admit, we stampeded a herd one sunset, and galloped over the plain among them. On other trips, I'd never seen a cheetah. This time, we sighted seven of them up close from landrovers. I will not even say what we watched lion doing. When we rode within 20 yards of a herd of 60 elephant, including babies, even though I am not a student of elephant psychology I was pretty sure we were too close. The two tusked matriarchs whirled, waved their ears, trumpeted and charged! I happened to have my camera in hand, and as our horses once again bolted to safety, I pushed the shutter behind me, knowing I had captured either the sky above, the grass below, or the cover of National Geographic. Turned out, I had the faces of two horses and riders, eyes rolled back in sockets with fright, no hint as to what was chasing. We continued our observations at a more hospitable distance.
My fifteen year old daughter had died her waist-length hair purple the night before we left for safari. I should not have worried....the Maasai loved it. Daniel, grandson of Chief Batian, a majestic figure draped in red cloak, spear, club and machete at hand, introduced her to the young folk. Maasai warriors guarded our horses at night. Artisans brought their goods to barter and trade at camp each evening. We visited a Maasai "manyatta" village constructed of sticks and cow manure mud to watch the unique blood-letting ceremony. Maasai are mainly anti-vegetarian, subsisting largely on milk, meat, and the blood of their cattle. As one holds a selected beast by the nose and ear, another shoots an arrow into the jugular. The resulting spurt is caught in a ceremonial gourd, mixed with milk and urine, and offers a high protein drink. The cattle must have developed a superb clotting factor, as a smack on the bottom of the nose causes an upward jerk of the head, which cuts off bleeding immediately.
Camping along the Mara river, hippopotamus provided the entertainment. Although comical in cartoon form, the real McCoy probably kills more people in Africa than any of the other big five. Here's where the camaraderie of the fire becomes even more welcome. From all walks of life and disparate professions, friendships are made which cannot compare to those which do not include sharing being bombarded by baboon feces at midnight. (We'd inadvertently pitched camp under their bedroom.)
When I am in the African plains and mountains, I am every time overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of it all: the skies, the vistas, the wildlife, the people, the vastness. Whether or not your future includes experiencing it personally, I encourage all my friends to help preserve this irreplaceable and incomparable wilderness. |
