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by Buzzy Gordon
In – and through – Kenya
Note: This safari took place just last month in Kenya. Earlier in the year, there had been political violence, resulting in a travel advisory to avoid travel to Kenya. That has now been lifted, and it is perfectly safe to travel to Kenya.
The Kenyans like to boast it is “The Seventh Natural Wonder of the World” the Maasai Mara reserve at the time of the annual “great migration” of herds of wildebeest to and from the Serengeti. Then again, the Canadians claim this title for Niagara Falls, the Americans for the Grand Canyon, the Australians for the  Great Barrier Reef and the Zambians for Victoria Falls. Suffice it to say that a safari in southwestern Kenya is an experience of a lifetime – especially during the months when the files of migrating animals stretch across the savanna to the horizon, as far as the eye can see.
But if you’re traveling all the way to Kenya, it makes sense to see a lot more than just one game reserve, even a spectacular one. Which is why my hosts at As You Like It Safaris (http://asyoulikeitsafaris.com) planned a real juggernaut: four national parks in three different regions of the country, over the course of 17 days.
There are two ways to safari: you can fly from lodge to lodge, or drive. We did not take a single domestic flight, and logged hundreds of miles over Kenya’s bone-jarring roads. It was occasionally tedious and frequently uncomfortable – but it does introduce you to the real Africa. And you can drive some hard bargains for beautiful African carvings at roadside curio shops that offer better variety and value than hotel gift shops.
 We began our marathon at Amboseli National Park, a few hours’ drive south of the capital city of Nairobi. Its claim to fame is elephants, and you will never get closer to those huge creatures as they amble nonchalantly alongside the road, casually munch their way through kilogram after kilogram of swamp grass, or interact as families: babies napping under their mothers’ bellies, teenage males engaging in friendly horseplay.
But there is lot more to see than elephants: the show-stealers were the ostriches engaging in their courtship antics, the females spreading their wings  invitingly, the male giving chase and doing his incredible dance, culminating in mating gyrations that give new meaning to the word “rubbernecking” (and to the word stamina: no sooner was he finished with one female partner than he was off pursuing another; he was successful with two of the three prospects).
Amboseli lies at the feet of the iconic highest mountain in Africa, Kilimanjaro. It is always a thrill to see a world-famous natural landmark; unfortunately, you might have to hurry to see it before it loses all of its snow. Like a balding patriarch, the peak has lost its entire mantle on one side, and continued melting threatens what remains. This is a lesson in global warming that eclipses a thousand Al Gore movies.
From Amboseli we return for a quick stopover in Nairobi, primarily to visit two of the country’s more interesting animal orphanages (unfortunately, there is little of architectural, historical or cultural interest in the sprawling city). At the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust, which rescues helpless baby elephants and rhinos, you can pet little elephants as they suck on huge bottles of formula; and even if you do not stay at the luxurious (and very expensive) Giraffe Manor, you can feed – and even kiss -- once-endangered Rothschild giraffes. (Fortunately, there are other accommodations in the city that are luxurious in their own way, and far more affordable: The Nairobi Serena Hotel and the Karen Blixen Coffee Garden Cottages).
Safaris entail rising early in the morning, whether to cover ground while driving from one game reserve to another, or to catch the animals when they’re most active, before the heat makes them (and you) lethargic. We will crisscross the equator several times; but since we stay at altitudes just above or below 5,000 feet, the temperature remains pleasant. Our northward journey takes us to Samburu National Reserve, home of the rare Grevy’s zebra, which has narrower stripes than the ones we normally see, and the Beisa oryx, with its distinctive long horns that curve straight upwards.
Perhaps because Samburu is less crowded than some of the other parks, it is the most likely place to spot a leopard, the most elusive of the Big Five (elephant, rhinoceros, lion, leopard, Cape buffalo). Sure enough, this is the only reserve where we see one, complete with the carcass of a half-eaten impala hanging from his tree, where he carried it to keep it away from the hyenas who would otherwise try to steal it.
Just about right on the equator is the Mt. Kenya Safari Club Wildlife Sanctuary,  founded by actor William Holden. It is here – and likely only here -- where most people can see two of the rarest and most unusual creatures anywhere: the zebroid, the result of a human experiment to cross a zebra with a horse; and the bongo, an endangered species of antelope with uniquely spiraled horns and almost bizarre white markings on a bright auburn-colored body and face.
About halfway between Mt. Kenya and Maasai Mara lies Lake Nakuru, where colonies of literally thousands of pink flamingos and white pelicans live in harmony and colorful splendor. The views from Lake Nakuru Lodge can be among the most spectacular one can enjoy from the privacy of one’s own room.
Maasai Mara is acknowledged to be the jewel in the crown of Kenya’s network of parks and reserves. Certainly, from the point of view of its sweep, it ranks among the planet’s great seas of land, like the steppes of Russia. It is here where the camera crews of National Geographic and Animal Planet spend days and weeks filming in order to capture the many dramas of nature as played out in the wild kingdom.
In fact, one of the AYLIS driver/guides, Charlie Boy, drives regularly for Jeff Corwin and National Geographic videographers; his eagle eyes, and those of his fellow drivers in our five-Land Cruiser convoy, routinely spot creatures that are totally undetectable to the untrained or unpracticed eye. There may be a lion crouching in the tall grass, stalking a reedbuck – but you will not see it until your guide hands you the binoculars and tells you at what hour on the face of the clock to look (12  o’clock is straight ahead through the windshield). On the other hand, if you spend five days in the Mara, as we did, you will almost definitely see at least one hunting sequence – perhaps even a cheetah racing at full speed after a gazelle, as one of our jeeps (lamentably, not mine) did.
Sex and violence is a recurring theme: not once but twice we came upon a pair of mating lions, who repeatedly performed their ritual most unabashedly just yards away from us. I do not know what kind of censorship cable television exercises, but I think it is highly unlikely that you will hear in your living room the actual roar of the male lion as he climaxes, or the gentle purring of both of them together afterwards.
The skeletal remains of prey litter the landscape, but you may also see a carnivorous cat devouring its catch, or the squabbling of vultures as they tear at the last remaining flesh on the bones. With luck, you might have a ringside seat when a lone vulture tiptoes towards the leftovers of a cheetah’s meal, approaching cautiously under the watchful gaze of the cheetah, until he is satisfied that the cheetah has eaten his fill and won’t come after him. As the disinterested cheetah, no longer hungry, looks on, the vulture digs in – soon to be joined by other ravenous buzzards in a frenzy of gluttony.
The highlight is a river crossing by wildebeests in the course of their migration. Picnic lunches are packed for a full-day stakeout, if necessary, at potential crossing points, identified by the massing of wildebeests and zebras along the riverbank. The animals may wait there, grazing for hours – and then possibly retreat or disperse without crossing. But at any given moment, one leader may jump in – and the rest will follow, leaping into the swirling waters with abandon, sometimes landing one atop the other. They swim in a wide arc in order to avoid being swept downstream by the strong current. It’s every beast for himself; the babies have to try and keep up, sometimes lacking the strength to climb up the opposite bank after barely making it across.
Some will not make it: as the herd swims in a group, a crocodile will surface and begin to swim nonchalantly alongside the furiously paddling four-legged quarry sizing up just the right one to snatch. Suddenly, jaws will open wide and clamp down on the unlucky casualty. The water churns as the hapless victim struggles and its fellow swimmers panic. Just as suddenly, calm returns; and the crocodile carries its dead prize away to feast on it in peace.
For all the life-and-death theater that takes place on the Mara stage, there are relaxing times on safari as well. At the Nyumbu Camp, owned by AYLIS (and partners) -- before retiring to your deluxe elevated tent, fully equipped with hot shower and flushing toilet – you nurse a beer or glass of wine by a roaring outdoor fire and watch the whole sky turn ablaze in one of the most magnificent sunsets you can ever imagine. A truly authentic African safari experience, indeed.
© September 2008 LuxuryWeb Magazine. All rights reserved.
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