Kenya - Eyes Wide for the Big Five

By LARISSA BUIJS
*originally published in Cruise and Travel Lifestyles

Ever wondered how a giraffe got so tall? Or how a rhino grew horns? Or what happens on the grasslands when night falls? Kenya is one of the last epic destinations on earth, where visitors can catch a glimpse into prehistoric times and the amazing spectacle of life and death in the wild. Safari-goers, look no further.

THE LAND CRUISER SCREECHES TO A HALT. Red dust from the road plumes up around us.

“What is it?” I shout. “There he is,” says our guide, Peter Kamau, calm as ever. We nearly scramble out of the open roof of the vehicle trying to aim and focus our cameras. At the side of the road, a beautiful blond lion stands in our falling dust, unconcerned that we so rudely slammed the brakes beside him a moment ago.

“Oh my,” exclaims a woman in our group. “Look ahead!”

Crossing in front of the truck, another male, slightly smaller and sporting a wispy black mane, skulks toward the blond.

“They’re brothers,” says Kamau. Having guided in the Kenyan wilds for ten years, he is savvy and knowledgeable—not a huge surprise as the standards for guiding in the country are high. Kamau explains how the lions are searching for a scent of the females, likely only a short distance ahead with the cubs.

The brothers open their basketball-sized jaws and hold them agape while we snap away. We’re so close to the cats I can zoom in on their teeth.

“Step out of the vehicle now,” says Kamau, cheekily, “and you’ll die."

A visit to Kenya is, in the best of ways, an assault on one’s visual senses. From the moment visitors step off a propeller plane at any of the country’s national parks and game reserves, they are met with an alphabet of natural attractions. In the brief drive from the airstrip to the Fairmont Mara Safari Camp, we were quickly introduced to the abundance of wildlife existing anywhere and everywhere: zebra, warthogs, wildebeest, impala, gazelle, crocs, a river full of hippos, and a giant stork.

If the main things visitors wish to see in a trip to Africa are (1) game, particularly the Big Five, (2) ancient landscapes including the savannah and acacia-filled hillsides, and (3) a world far away from civilized life, all are possible in Kenya.

Masai Mara, along Kenya’s southwestern border, is the most popular safari destination in the country. Safaris are fruitful year-round here, but during the lush winter season from July to September, 1.5 million wildebeest and about 600,000 zebra migrate north from the Serengeti, constituting a spectacle sometimes known as the eighth wonder of the world.

I found it was like a busy urban center out there. On our first game drive in the Mara, we saw 19 different species including giraffes, a trio of ostriches, a pair of black-backed jackals, a family of baboons and a lone cheetah scratching its back in the grasses. We even got close to three of the Big Five: elephants, Cape buffalo, and a leopard. The latter was a lucky encounter; driving back to camp, its spotted silhouette passed silently behind our vehicle. We were only a few minutes from the lodge gates.
THAT NIGHT, as I slipped into my tent—not your average roll-up but a permanent, luxurious structure —I listened to the monkeys howl and the hippos bellow. I couldn’t believe the density of wildlife existing here in relative harmony. How did primates, mammals, reptiles and birds evolve to survive with one another? It was a question I’d carry throughout the week.

We were two weeks early for the wildebeest migration, but the good news came as we pulled into the Fig Tree Camp on the north end of the park and met up with hot air balloon pilot ‘Captain Kim.’ He said the winds were in our favor that day and the herds were already there—in fact, they would be moving directly under our flight path. We screamed with joy!

Imagine: hundreds of thousands of wildebeest—no exaggeration—continuing as far as one can see, like insects dotting the plains. Floating over the savannah, at times barely ten meters above the ground, we watched as the animals ran, erratic and determined. They were a wave that never quite stopped coming ashore. There was, in truth, a sea of animals beneath us.

And then, to make it even more unbelievable, we rose up to cross some bushes and out crashed a black rhinoceros, trotting about twenty steps beneath our balloon before ducking back in. Wow! Captain Kim said he’d never seen this before—rhinos are seriously endangered after decades of heavy poaching. There are only about 500 black rhinos left in Kenya.

We landed with a soft thud and a safari vehicle whisked us to a buffet bush breakfast. We clinked our champagne glasses while wildebeest mingled in the distance. Having seen a pride of ten to 12 lions devour a fresh kill early that morning as we drove to the balloon launch, along with black rhino sighting we
were at all five of the Big Five in our first two days in Kenya.

Our next stop was Amboseli National Park where, by contrast, large African elephants are the ruling class. Approximately 1,500 elephants dwell year-round in the park and can easily be seen in the marshlands surrounding Ol Tukai Lodge, a quaint collection of chalets at the center of the park. There’s nothing more peaceful than an afternoonafternoon nap with massive herds of elephants ambling
along in the distance.

From Amboseli, our group traveled overland to Tsavo West National Park, closer to the coast where the landscape changed to low, dormant volcanoes, mineral-rich sands, scrubby woodlands and freshwater springs. Though Tsavo is presently less visited than the Mara, this is classic safari terrain where visitors are unlikely to run into other vehicles and visitors.

We had a quiet game drive on our last morning in Tsavo, spotting just a few animals including a group of beautiful lesser kudus and impala. We saw a lioness and cub heading back to their den after what Kamau believed was an unsuccessful hunt. He said you could tell by the way the mother looked up and down that she was hopeful for one more opportunity, and judging by how skinny she was that they were very hungry. The cub was cute and bouncy but it wouldn’t survive much longer, Kamau said, unless the mother was able to get some food.

“It’s a game of wits,” said Kamau. There’s no guarantee predators will eat every day; most prey have adapted to hunting methods and can often outsmart their pursuers. Crocodiles, for example, are alerted by the thundering sound of approaching wildebeest, but if the smaller Thompson’s gazelle, which is easier to catch, crosses the river first the crocs might miss their chance.

“If you stay for long enough and just watch,” Kamau said, grinning, “you can see it’s all about out-witting one another.”

With the help of the Kenya Wildlife Service, conservation efforts in Kenya have improved populations over the past few years, and promise to for years to come. There is presently a countrywide ban on hunting and an increasingly cooperative management system between ranchers, local people, and the government to manage areas such as the Mara Triangle. Everybody seems to understand that wildlife is Kenya’s gold.

We’re expected back at Finch Hattons for one last bush breakfast when we meet the lion brothers at the side of the road. Kamau, like most guides I expect, has eyes everywhere on his head. As I admire the morning sun in the lions’ manes, I ask how the heck he saw them. Even the lion, the largest cat in Africa, blends in with the woody brush and copper soil.

Kamau, who clearly loves every minute of being on safari, smiled and said he just saw something move out of the corner of his eye when he slammed on the brakes. Unfortunately, the vehicle in front of us didn’t see the lions—or perhaps the cats sauntered out after it passed—but this is it, the crowning moment on our trip. “You never know in the bush,” says Kamau. “Everything is changing all the time—that’s just how it is. A leopard could walk out right now, or not.”

After a life-changing week on safari, I believed it.