MASSAI MARA - We’re Surrounded. The Entire Place is Crawling with Living Things…

Living in the UK and Canada isn’t the best preparation for an African safari because there’s a temptation to think of nature reserves as very large zoos. Going through the front gates (where one can’t help but be reminded of Jurassic Park…) you look intently from side to side waiting for the first elephant to lumber out of the undergrowth, swiftly followed by a cheetah at full sprint. Instead, what you find is an area of over farmed dirt stretching off into the distance. Those who remember the last blog entry will remember my references to Massai cattle herds sneaking into the Mara; and that’s what you see when you enter the reserve. It’s brown and bleak; with a few lone gazelle or zebra climbing over the rocks on one side or the other.

The Massai Mara, though, is a huge ecosystem covering 1500 square kilometers. And as we reach the head of the first set of hills, a sight familiar from postcards the world over greets us. Vast expanses of grasslands stretch out under the glint of the morning sun, with occasional acacia trees breaking up the flat horizons (wildfires are common here, and the acacia trees are the only ones which tend to survive) The next lesson to learn is this; safari is a systematic blend of tracking and opportunism.

The tracking comes from Elijah and Samuel who, with an incredible knowledge of the on and off road tracks of the Mara alongside their short wave radio, are able to systematically guide us through most of the reserve’s habitats. The opportunism comes from following the vultures. Either the animal kind, which stick close to dead animals and can be a good way of finding recent kills, or what we come to refer to as the ‘white vultures’: the legions of non descript minibuses carrying safari tourists who congregate in large groups around interesting animals. The practice seems a little distasteful, except for the facts that (A) We, of course, join them as well to see what they’ve found and ( B) It’s clear that, as most drivers seem to be adept at the practice of watching, the animals pay their watchers little or no regard.

And there are, of course, always the groups who have their own particular focus for their day’s viewing. We encounter our Canadian agri-foresters several times during the day and realize that, more often that not, the thing that has gripped their attention and caused them to reach for their zoom lenses is not some great moment of animal activity, but a rather interesting tree.

Our first moment of excitement during the day comes when we spy our first lion. A lioness, to be exact, lying out on a mound beside some bushes. For a moment it looks like she is sleeping; then we spot buffalo moving amongst the undergrowth nearby. It becomes clear that the lioness is hunting; watching the buffalo (who are big enough to defend themselves and give a single predator some nasty injuries, Elijah tells us) and waiting for her time. We wait with her. The situation looks like a stalemate until a curious warthog wanders into the fray. The lioness’ attention switches and, a few minutes later, our patience is rewarded as the warthog steps just slightly too close and she makes her move. Unfortunately for us; her move is a rather lazy jog towards a warthog which is more than prepared to make its dash for freedom. It’s soon over; as the warthog reaches safety long before the lioness seems to get very interested in the chase. The incident gives us two major pointers for the rest of the day: patience is important in the course of a safari, and it’s astounding how nature lovers become surprisingly bloodthirsty when it looks like we’ll see an actual kill.


Lionness preparing to do... well, not much as it transpired.

Radio contact from other safari expeditions brings us to our next major sightings: a group of three male lions lying under a tree, followed by a family of cheetahs close by. The lions are a particularly prized sight, remarks Elijah, since male lions rarely spend time together once they reach the age to gather their own prides. Our three are young and lazy, but astoundingly impressive all the same. The cheetahs are livelier; a mother watches on as her two cubs scrap atop a nearby ditch. It transpires that the sprinting for which they are famed is such an exhausting process that they can only do it for a few dozen metres at a time. As we get deeper into the park, the numbers of the animals we see at any one time become larger; to the point where we’re driving through uncountable groups of zebra, buffalo and gazelle all grazing in the same watering holes and grasslands.


Bachelor lions lying out in the shade.


Young cheetahs at play.

One of the most impressive natural wonders in the region is the annual wildebeest migration. At the end of the winter, thousands of these animals flood over to the border from the Serengeti National Park in Tanzania (of which the Massai Mara is, effectively, the northern continuation) and then once the grass has been eaten for the season, they head back in late summer. We are in the Mara at the end of the return process, and we see versions of it throughout the day. Sometimes up close, as we watch herds of wildebeest at watering holes and river crossing, and often from afar as we’ll be driving across grasslands and see hundreds of the animals in the distance walking single file across the border. It’s fascinating to observe although, as with everything else in the reserve, there is a nasty temptation to want to see animals come to harm for our entertainment.


Grazing in the foreground whilst, in the background, wildebeest migrate southwards.

This reaches its zenith in the early afternoon when, as we approach the Mara River, we see groups of wildebeest standing at the edge of the river canyon. They need to cross if they’re going to reach the Serengeti but, as becomes clear as we drive along the edge of the river, there’s plenty of good reasons for them not to want to. Crocodiles and hippos are clearly visible in the waters below. It’s clear that if the wildebeest make their move, at least some of them will be sacrificed. So we wait to see what will happen, along with several other safari vans. Having dozens of long lenses focused on the site of an impending massacre is all rather gruesome but, clearly, the wildebeest are aware of this and they do not move. At all. For almost an hour. Finally we decide to head off to other pastures, leaving the wildebeest to contemplate their fate under the watchful eye of the remaining white vultures.


Hippos in the water.


The white vultures (well, not so white this time) await the wildebeest massacre. They are to be dissapointed.

Leaving proves to be the better course of action since, on our way back towards the gate, we have two of our most impressive encounters of the day. First there is a group of elephants we encounter on open grasslands. For a while we believe it’s just one lost young elephant, wandering alone under gloomy skies. But after following him for a while, we find the rest of his group who have trudged much further ahead. We’re able to gently coast along beside them, admiring their graceful lumbering. Just as we leave them, the clouds finally break and we’re treated to an intense bout of rain. As we splash along the road we see the remains of a recently killed zebra to the side of it and, on closer observation, a group of lions lying down in the grass around it.


Lone elephant wandering the plains...


... not so lone elephant wandering very, very close to us.

Clearly what has happened is that the lions made their kill but their eating was interrupted by the rain. We decide to wait and see if we can wait out the rain and see them resume eating (because, again, safari going seems to make us all want to see things die and be eaten as much as it does live things) We wait for some time as water pools on the road ahead and the smell of fresh earth fills the air. Finally, the rays of the sun return (along with an impressive rainbow) and the lions too seem to come back to life. First they wander into the road and spend time playing with, or possibly taunting, each other. The group is a pride of one male and two females. And as they move back to their kill, we can see the group dynamics as work. The male begins to eat alone, with one of the lionesses picking away beside him. It’s only when he leaves that both the females eat together.


Lionesses playing, or maybe fighting, after the rainstorm.


Male lion gets sleepy as it waits out the rain.


The male lion begins his feed. Moist zebra! Yum!


The lionesses move in for their share of the meal.

Watching the lions play and eat is incredible. So much so that we barely notice the sun begin to dip and our final drive to the gate has to be made at some speed. The Mara isn’t open to safaris at night, and the fines for leaving late are steep. Elijah and Samuel are used to the phenomena of the most impressive sightings occurring in the evening, though, and we’re soon heading back to our tent camp for a second night’s stay. Leaving the animals of the Massai Mara to hunt, play and eat away from the observation of the death obsessed human vultures!


Zebra and distant rainbow following the late afternoon Mara rainstorm.

Following an evening where we regale the rest of the camp with the sound plastic cups being slapped down on tables (thanks, Ruth!) we head back into the Massai Mara at dawn to see if we can find some of the animals we missed. Including the elusive, and rare, black rhino. In the quiet morning, our first encounters are with giraffes. Having not seen any close up the day before, we spend a lot of time watching one of them feeding alone; fascinated by its extraordinarily long tongue. They're very deliberate eaters, and seem to be the animals most aware of the human presence.


Early morning giraffe.


Impressive tounge length from the feeding giraffe.

We then creep (read: drive really slowly) through the undergrowth looking for tell tale signs of the elusive rhino. We meet another group of elephants in the middle of a feed, and even some more lions lying out after their early morning hunt. Finally, after following an ostrich across open plains we receive a radio call which has us u-turning back towards a low valley. There we watch as two rhinos are lumbering around just a few hundred metres away. They’re fabulous animals; a sort of throwback to prehistory. To see them wandering around is exhilarating.


Sunlight begins to hit the Mara as elephants head off for the morning.


Black rhinos out in a Mara valley.