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Upon leaving Amboseli National Park nine days after arriving in Kenya, we were not only
completing our first safari in East Africa but also leaving Kenya, at least for quite awhile.
Elly and our latest cook, Nyerere, drove us from the park to Namanga, a small town that’s a main entry point via
highway into Tanzania. Elly made sure we navigated the emmigration/immigration paperwork hassle-free (visa - $30/each),
and then bid us farewell; patting us on our butts and sending us on our merry way, so to speak. We had already
paid Come to Africa Safaris Ltd $30 each for a shuttle bus south to Arusha, where we were hoping to organize the
next leg of our adventure, and where we would be greeted by an affiliated safari company and escorted to our accomodation
of choice... "no charge and no strings attached". When we had agreed to this arrangement back in Nairobi
we’d suspected that the cost was a bit hefty, but we’d also figured it was worth the convenience. But as the saying
goes... the plot thickened.
The “plan” was that we would be climbing on to a bus at the border at 2 pm and arriving in Arusha in late-afternoon,
at worst. Getting into a strange town after dark in Africa was not especially appealing to us. But somehow the
arrangements got botched up and there were no seats for us on the 2 pm bus. Whether this was the fault of Come
to Africa, or of Davanu Shuttle Services, we still do not know. But I must say in all fairness to the safari company
that IF they were the ones responsible, it was absolutely the only gripe we had with them... everything else was
virtually flawless.
So we waited. Now all of you who have spent any time in a border town know fully well just how unenchanting these
armpits of the world are. Little to do but sit on a bench, read and people-watch, fending off the beggars and peddlars,
we became increasingly irritated as the hours slowly passed. If we had made our own arrangements we would been
infinitely more patient, but we had paid top dollar for convenience, and worse yet, when we wanted to know what
the hell was happening our contact from Davanu, a lady named Zaituni, was absolutely no-where to be found! “We
could have screwed this up on our own for a lot less money,” we agreed.
Finally... just before 6 pm (having never seen Zaituni again) we left on a bus and sped off to Arusha, contemplating
the fact that for the first time in East Africa we were really on our own. Up to this point someone had been holding
our hands every step of the way. The ride was magnificent. First of all, the quality of roads in Tanzania is light-years
ahead of Kenya’s. It is certainly a country also saddled with extreme poverty, but the infrastructure appears to
be in better shape. Our view from the bus window was superb: a stunning wide-screen landscape with lush green,
rolling grassland; tiny Maasai bomas and splashes of crimson as the guardians of their cattle drove their herds
before them; a few zebras crossing the highway and a giraffe browsing from a tree. And later I sat transfixed as
Mt. Kilimanjaro appeared on our left, Mt. Meru (the second highest peak in Tanzania) came into splendid view straight
ahead, and on our right - a brilliant blood-red sunset. All was well again.
We arrived in Arusha at around 8 pm and looked for our contact... Benjamin. We soon saw a man holding up a big
piece of cardboard with our names scrawled on it. But then another man also held up a sign bearing our names, and
people were tapping on the windows trying to get our attention. Upon stepping off of the bus we were immediately
surrounded and several men tried to grab our backpacks and stuff them into their vehicles, each insisting we go
with them. Since we had been given a contact name I yelled out, “Who’s Benjamin?”
At least five men answered, “Me... I’m Benjamin!”.
Back and forth it went for awhile, from one guy to another, each trying harder than the other to convince us that
they were our Benjamin. We were standing in the middle of a verbal pinball machine... and utter chaos! It might
have all been quite hilarious had it not been for the fact that we were tired, hungry, needing both a shower and
a toilet, and feeling just a wee bit cranky. It wasn’t until the real Benjamin pulled out his photo ID card that
we finally discovered who was actually Benjamin and who wasn’t. How they all got our names remained a mystery,
but we were at long last headed to the guest house of AAH Tours and Safaris Ltd. - accommodation being provided
to us free-of-charge with hope that we would subsequently hire them for a safari.
As I’ve previously mentioned, safari touring in East Africa is highly competitive. In Arusha, a city of 350,000
and an ideal base for most key destinations in Tanzania, there are well over 100 safari and touring companies.
Most are highly reputable operations, but some have sold their soul to the devil a long, long time ago and run
absolute sham operations... these scoundrels would probably steal a penny from a blind leper if they could! How
to tell the difference? Well first there is the Tanzania Tourist Board on Boma Rd which provides a “black list”
of rogue and unlicensed agents, and you might stop in as we did to check up on who you’re considering. Of course
the best option is to go with a company that’s been recommended by a reliable source, if that’s possible. In any
event look over the contract carefully, being clear about what’s included, take a look at their vehicles, and if
you can, meet the driver/guide before forking over your money. You’ll have no trouble getting in contact with companies
in Arusha, as touts from both the good and the bad ones are everywhere, prowling the streets, badgering you to
visit their offices. One even marched up to our table in a cafe while Heide and I were trying to relax over our
coffees. For me that was the proverbial “last straw”...I jumped up and chased him out!
Even though we had already far exceeded our pre-trip expectations regarding safaris, Heide and I were very keen
on not leaving Tanzania without visiting the renowned Ngorongoro Crater, famous for its uniqueness and beauty.
The next morning we spoke with Akhtar Hussein, director of AAH, about putting together a short trip without bankrupting
us. We settled on a two-day tour to both the Crater and nearby Lake Manyara National Park, which I'd also heard
good things about in my pre-trip research. We agreed on $170 each and would leave the next day. I should point
out that Tanzania is more expensive for safaris than Kenya - why I am still not quite sure, but if you decide to
go on safari to either country it is generally cheaper to make arrangements once there, rather than prior to arriving.
Located 130 km west of Arusha, Lake Manyara National Park is also in the Rift Valley. It is not a large park and
much of it consists of the lake itself. Though not as spectacular and chocked full of such a vast variety of game
as Masai Mara, we found it to be possibly the prettiest of all the parks or reserves we visited, as it is heavily
forested and criss-crossed with small rivers... almost jungle-like in a way. It is particularly well-known for
its “tree-climbing lions”. Apparently because of its density of vegetation the lions there sometimes climb up on
to the lower limbs of the acacia trees for a better vantage point of their prey. But we were pre-warned on the
way there by our driver about the chance of seeing the lions in the trees: “The odds are not good.”
But nonetheless, less than an hour after entering the park we spotted three lions lounging in a massive acacia...
father, mother and their two-year-old cub... as cozy-looking as any family unit could ever be. We parked no more
than about 4 meters away, so close I could actually count the flys crawling on the male’s paw. They stretched,
yawned, rubbed against the tree, and watched us watch them. Sometimes it almost seemed as though they were posing
for us. Eventually several other vehicles pulled up and plenty of rubber-neckers were all bunched together observing
them, but the lions seemed totally uneffected by all the attention. After about 30 minutes of camera-clicking and
awe-struck murmuring, we left them there... still yawning, stretching, and acting fairly bored with it all. The
“odds aren’t good” huh? Well so much for the odds! But then again, as far as viewing game was concerned, we’d been
beating the odds the entire trip.
By the way... figure on a minimum of two rolls of film per day on safari. Absolute minimum.
Lions have long been deemed the “King of the Jungle”. Now with all due respect to “panthera leo” (after all I’m
a leo myself), my vote goes to the elephant as the bona fide king. There is really no animal in Africa that fully
rules their domain like “laxodanta africana”. By far the largest land mammal on earth, the elephant clearly “takes
no shit from nothin’ or nobody!” Other herbivores will all mix with each other and share the savannah, amicably
eating, sleeping, drinking, and so on all together. But not the elephant. You might say they have a bit of a “personal
space issue”. All other wildlife cuts them a wide swath and stay off their turf, and “homo sapiens” are wise to
do the same.
All the safari drivers are well-schooled on just how close one can safely get to them and when to back off. When
threatened, elephants can quickly transform their massive bulk into a powerhouse of frightening aggression. Fortunately
there are tell-tale signals you can watch for - lifting their trunk, flapping their ears, shaking their head. These
all have significant meaning and will tip off the learned intruder on what’s probably going through the elephant’s
mind. And usually they will false-charge you once, if not twice, before actually reducing you to mincemeat. Usually.
Besides the obvious point that you should avoid a mother and her offspring (duh!), one thing elephants clearly
do not go for is having their path blocked (you may recall the earlier incident in part 1 regarding the van stuck
in the river).
In Lake Manyara Park there are plenty of elephants, and due to the density of flora they can suddenly appear upon
rounding a curve. On one such occasion we found ourselves squarely in the middle of a herd of about a dozen crossing
the road. We stopped to watch and photograph them. One young male which had already crossed in front of our vehicle
was “feeling his oats” a little that day, and he displayed his displeasure at our close proximity by spinning around,
waving his trunk, and letting out a few shrill trumpets. All good fun... no problem. But while he had our full
attention, another adolescent male about two meters behind us decided to play “I can top that!” and let roar a
massive scream. More than just a wee bit startled we turned our heads to look at him just as he false-charged the
van, absolutely scaring the crap out of Heide and me! I can still recall the blur of gray rushing directly at us.
Nothing like a little adrenalin rush for an afternoon pick-me-up.
Our driver on this safari was Baba - not his birth name. He did inform of us of that when we were formally introduced,
but everyone called him Baba, a title of respect implying both father and teacher. He had been a safari driver
for 13 years and apparantly had trained, at one time or another, almost every driver in East Africa... at least
it seemed that way. Everywhere, and I mean everywhere we went, he was enthusiastically and reverentially greeted
by name. And not just by the drivers... in the villages... along the highway... at the park entrances... calls
of “Baba, Baba” constantly rang out. You would have thought that we were traveling in an entourage with Nelson
Mandela!
Baba is 45-years-old, quite short but tough and wiry, and always has a bright, infectious smile. He also knows
the land and all its creatures intimately... it was not just by good luck that we found the tree-climbing lions!
I asked him the same question I asked each of our guides, “What’s the scariest situation you’ve ever been in?”
His quick response was, “I don’t get scared anymore.” Now normally if anyone said this to me I would be very, very
sceptical. But I believed him, especially after he shared one particular story with us. Knowing that many companies
are expanding into Uganda to do mountain gorilla expeditions, I asked him if he had been there yet. “Yes in 1979...in
the war.” At that time Idi Amin, the demented and despotic ruler of Uganda, arrogantly and unwisely decided to
grab some border land from Tanzania (a mistake that would eventually lead to his downfall), and Baba was part of
a militia unit sent there to kick his ass and get the land back. “My friends were getting killed all around me,
but the Ugandans were too disorganized to beat us and we chased them away. They dropped their weapons and just
ran,” he laughed, as if survival was a casual matter. I noticed that he didn’t flinch a bit when the elephants
got pissed off.
That night we camped near Ngorongoro Crater. Although we’d experienced no rain at all so far in our trip, that
night there was an absolute deluge, some water got into our tent, and in the morning the road to Ngorongoro was
a complete quagmire. 4WD vehicles are mandatory for entering the crater and it’s a damn good thing we had one.
Spinning, sliding, but always in control, Baba calmly drove onwards. Descending one fairly steep hill we encountered
a truck stuck directly in the road. Never hesitating, Baba swung our truck up on to the muddy shoulder and whipped
around the stricken vehicle. But while doing so we slightly clipped the rear end of another truck backing up. “No
harm, no foul,” apparently, as we sped on, slalomming all the way to the bottom of the hill. Never letting off
the gas he turned and with a grin as wide as an elephant’s ass and his characteristic high-pitched laugh he exclaimed,
“I love it! Oh, but this is easy... you should see how it gets sometimes!”
Ngorongoro Conservation Area was established in 1959 and in 1978 was declared a World Heritage Site. About 2.5
million years ago it was an active volcano, but when the cone collapsed it left a crater between 16 to 19 km across.
The rim is 2,286 meters high with the floor 610 meters below it. Ngorongoro has been called the “Garden of Eden”,
“Noah’s Ark” and “Paradise on Earth”, and with an estimated 30,000 animals residing within it, along with the Maasai
grazing their cattle, it is truly something special. The panorama of the crater from the rim is incredible, or
so I’ve heard. I have to say that since when we arrived the clouds obscured our view completely. But as we started
working our way down the narrow, winding, switch-back dirt road the spectacle unfolded below us, rather like a
huge amphitheature. Breathtaking is the only word I can come up with to describe it!
We leisurely explored the crater floor by truck, every vantage point dominated by a view of steep crater walls
in the distance looming upwards... a lush dark-green that cradled us. We did not see that many predators there,
but the antelopes, gazelles, wildebeest, zebras, buffalos and other grass-eaters were plentiful, sprawled across
the verdant plain. We also saw a couple of black rhino, a few elephants, and visited two pools filled with basking
hippos. Lake Magadi has a few thousand pink flamingos wading in its shallow waters and there are many other kinds
of water fowl feeding and flying around, including ducks, geese, herons, ibis and African jacanas. But Ngorongoro
impressed us not so much because of the wildlife, but more so because of its hypnotically immense grandeur.
It was during our lunch break at a picnic site in Lerai Forest inside the crater that I took a fantastic upclose
photo of a Green (Velvet) Monkey eating a sandwich. My sandwich! As Heide was sitting in the Land Cruiser feeding
her face, I grabbed her camera to capture this moment for posterity. While I squeezed the shutter a monkey seemingly
came out of no-where, hopped up on to the hood of the truck and swiped my sandwich out of my lunchbox lying there.
When he dropped to the ground I captured him in posterity... looking quite smug while chewing away. Frankly I would
have preferred my sandwich to the photo, but as the saying goes, “Snooze, you lose.” I’m telling you these guys
are fast... and bold!
A few minutes later another monkey climbed into a vehicle parked nearby as a woman ate her lunch inside it... imagine
her surprise! And I am embarrased to admit that that I got caught snoozing not just once, but twice! In an obviously
devious, carefully crafted diversionary move, a baby monkey strolled up, stood erect and enticingly posed for me.
Standing directly next to my lunchbox I jerked up the camera... it was clearly a “Kodak moment” I just could not
pass up. Do you know that while I was photographing the infant monkey, the other one jumped back up and swiped
my muffin from directly under my elbow! I still had my apple and cookie, which from then on I tenaciously guarded,
but that day the monkey ate a lot better than I did.
Some people like to organize their own safari. You can certainly do that; rent your own 4WD, bring your own camping
gear, buy some maps and guide books and do your own thing. And many do. It certainly creates for you the freedom
to go where you want to go when you want to and to stay as long as you want to.. But you definitely won’t save
any money. Even with the much higher cost of the two-day safari in Tanzania factored in, we paid any average of
$64 per day, per person, for our eleven days (six parks in the two countries). And when you figure in the entrance
fees (average $25 to 30/day), the rental cost (probably about $50/day), petrol, food and all the rest, it makes
no sense to do it on your own... especially when you add in the invaluable experience and companionship of the
drivers, plus all the things that were done for us. And what if you get stuck in the mud or sand, or get a flat
tire 40 meters from a pride of lions?
Any decent guide book will provide you with an adequate list of what to bring to Africa, but I’d like to add a
few items that might not be listed, and which I believe are invaluable:
- bandannas – many, many uses...bring a few
- lip gloss or chap stick – easy to overlook, but important
- lots of plastic bags – for your camera (dust is a problem) and any food you’ll buy
- duct tape – you can repair almost anything with it
- ear plugs – trust me on this one
- collapsible rubber wash basin – for washing clothes and flushing naughty toilets
- slip sheet – made by folding a sheet and sewing up the bottom and part of the side
- aloe vera – for sun burn, and for inside your nose to prevent dryness and nose-bleeds
- sarongs – practical for skirt, towel, scarf and beach-cover for women.
Imagine pulling up in your car up to the entrance of Yellowstone or Yosemite Park in the U.S. and seeing a sign
announcing “Admittance: 25 Euros”. Wouldn’t it seem a bit odd to you that foreign currency was preferred over local
currency? Yet in all the parks and reserves in Kenya and Tanzania entrance fees could only be paid in U.S. dollars.
These governments don’t even want to accept their own schillings. What kind of statement is this that they’re making
about confidence in the stability of their currency? At Lake Manyara Park, Baba used one of our travelers checks
(TC) in U.S. dollars to gain our admittance, and Heide had to personally endorse it in front of the ranger at the
gate.
Entrance visas to both Kenya and Tanzania were requested in dollars. And many, many hotels, especially in Tanzania,
wanted payment in U.S. dollars to such an extent that we would get penalized with horrific exchange rates if we
used schillings. But here’s another kick in the wallet. When we tried to pay with a TC they either wouldn’t accept
it or else would devalue it by 10 to 15%. One bank in Arusha wanted a commission of $20 to change a TC into Tanzanian
schillings. So let me get this straight. They want U.S. money, but they discourage visitors from using TCs, right?
Now you tell me... who in their right mind would go prancing around Africa with their pockets stuffed full of cash!?!
Regarding the issue of cost - in general it’s anything but cheap in East Africa, especially in Kenya. When shopping
in stores, the same ones locals use, we noticed that many, if not most of the items on the shelves, could actually
be purchased for less in Berlin. When you consider that in Kenya the average wage earner makes less than $75/month,
it is hard to imagine how most people can afford anything! I’ve found it much less expensive to travel in most
of Eastern Europe than in East Africa, and if you want to upgrade your accomodation beyond the kind of places I’ve
described, you’re probably looking at paying as much as you would in Western Europe or the U.S.... at least.
Our time on safari was finally over. In addition to hundreds of photos, we’d collected countless and priceless
mental images so vivid, so dramatic and so remarkable that the imprint of these would be, if not indelible, certainly
very long-lasting. These images were of wildlife, landscapes, people... all of them unique to anything we’d ever
experienced before. But Africa is like that - incomparable, intense and also thoroughly uncompromising! There are
such extremes and so many enigmas everywhere, it all both fascinating and maddening! The payoffs are huge, but
yet so are the demands of traveling there. There was still much, much more for us to experience in East Africa,
and some of it would be even more challenging.... as you will see when we continue on with our journey.
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