Garuda Indonesia Colours Magazine April 2017 | Page 124

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Travel | Masai Mara
In one of the most dramatic river crossings of recent years a mad rush
of an estimated 30,000 wildebeest hurl themselves into the Mara River...
in a desperate race (in the wrong direction!) towards lush grazing
to the south of the river.
The wildebeest swarmed down the riverbank in a tangled
mass of legs and horns. We’d been watching them gather on
the other side of the Mara River for almost an hour. Finally,
under sheer force of numbers, the animals closest to the ridge
were forced to jump and the stampede began.
It was impossible to estimate how many
there were in this offshoot of the main
migration, but our guide Joseph reckoned
there were about 30,000 wildebeest
splashing across the river and scrambling
up the bank towards us.
They’d chosen one of the steepest parts of
the riverbank. They cascaded over the 10m
cliff in a drop that would surely have killed
most horses, and I was horrified to think that
a carnage of twisted and broken bodies
would be left in the crocodile-infested water
once the herd had passed through.
I’d travelled in Kenya many times, but I had a
reason for secretly hoping that this safari
would be a little tamer than usual. Beside me,
clinging to the rim of the open-top Land
Rover, 10-year-old Lucia was gasping as a
young calf slid helplessly towards the jaws
of a giant crocodile. For a second I regretted
that she was there to see this.
I’d wanted Lucia’s first safari to be a life-
changing experience, but I should have
remembered that Kenya very often has a way
of surpassing all expectations. Self-driving
around the Kenyan bush can be challenging,
but with a fully equipped 4x4 and enough
time, it is a viable option for most people
with a sense of adventure. With kids it pays
to take things slowly, and her first few
African days, staying at the lovely Nairobi
Tented Camp, were a priceless learning
experience for little Lucia. We taught her
how to read the handheld GPS so that she
was actively involved in the navigation
rather than just being an uninvolved
passenger. We showed her how to set
up the roof-tent, mounted on top
of the Land Rover like a tree-house,
and how to keep it secured against
the mischievous monkeys.
We loaded the rented Land Rover Defender
and drove south to Amboseli National Park,
where Lucia was astounded by great herds
of elephants and charmed by fat, waddling
hippos. Her first sight of the snow-capped
peak of Kilimanjaro, rising sheer out of the
desert haze, was more spectacular even
than the cinematic Lion King backdrops
of her imagination. The land was dry
and dusty, and the mini whirlwinds
dancing between the lakes reminded
Lucia of twirling ballerinas.
Lucia took to bush-camping like a natural,
and when she woke with her hair wild and
tangled – looking like Mowgli – she would
talk excitedly about the lions we’d heard
roaring in the night. Within a couple of days,
the little city-girl was collecting firewood
and preparing steaks for barbecue dinners.
Usually we drove ourselves in the parks, but
when staying in lodges or tented camps we
occasionally joined group safari vehicles
to take advantage of trained local guides
who knew exactly where to find the animals.