'You're doing what? Sleeping under canvas in Africa? With wild animals all around you? You must be tougher than me - and a LOT braver!'
I've had this said to me more times than I can remember... Now and then I just smile and say nothing - feeling the need to preserve whatever image the person has of me.... On other occasions I am more honest - and I start to tell what it's REALLY like to go on safari... specifically that tents in the camps can have marble floored bathrooms with flush toilets, that the animals aren't necessarily the most frightening things on the safari and that, while one learns a lot about the flora and fauna of the country, one learns an equal amount about one's fellow man.... I'm hoping that some of these tales might make you smile - or just think....
Come and join me ON SAFARI...



GLORIOUSLY UNPREPARED:  THE KIFARU SAFARI:

THE KILL  THE THINGS PEOPLE SAY:  THE LION:



GLORIOUSLY UNPREPARED... Yes - that is a tiger and yes, we ARE talking about Africa. It is, to me, the most appropriate symbol for the way some people approach their safaris....

We had a spare day in Nairobi and had decided to spend the afternoon taking a game-drive in the Nairobi Game Park (which is only 20 minutes from the city centre). We found ourselves in a safari vehicle with a family of four, mother, father, teenage son and young daughter....

We all go on safari, hopefully, to learn a little more about the natural world - but I think it not unreasonable to expect that most people come armed with a minimum of knowledge of the country and its wildlife? I couldn't believe my ears when the young teenager drawled 'Gee - do we get to see any tigers this afternoon?' at the beginning of the drive...

Now safari-drivers are, in the main, a breed apart. There are good ones, for whom every day is still an adventure as much for them as for their clients and there are bad ones, who are only doing it because it's a relatively well paid job in a poor country but who have, in all honesty, seen one lion too many. The good ones impart their knowledge with patience, skill, enthusiasm and often a great sense of humour. How they retain ANY sense of humour in the face of the crass ignorance with which they are often faced, is beyond me.

This particular driver replied that no, tigers were not found in Africa and kept his patience throughout the three-hour drive, despite a barrage of some of the most stupid questions one can imagine... until finally - around 6.30 in the evening - we were making our way out of the Park to go back to the hotel...

There in front of us were a herd of several thousand grazing wildebeest (gnu). The mother of the party tapped the driver on the shoulder and asked 'Do these animals have to sleep out in the open?' .... not a flicker crossed the driver's face but inside something must have finally... seriously... cracked....

Unsmiling and in a quiet voice he said 'No madam - they check into a hotel'...

Now we knew it was a breach of etiquette, that one should, no matter what the provocation, remain polite to a client but Rob and I rolled round the back seat, desperately trying not to laugh out loud. We knew the driver had lost any chance of a tip from the family - but we just wanted to applaud and applaud..... so we gave him double...

As we walked back into the Norfolk Hotel we saw a lady at the reception desk asking - were there any rooms vacant? 'No, I'm sorry ma'am' replied the receptionist, 'we're fully booked at present.'

Rob and I looked at one another - 'No wonder' I said, 'It's all those b----- wildebeest!'... and we walked away, howling with laughter.




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THE KIFARU SAFARI. We knew there were going to be problems the minute the two ladies climbed on board our safari bus for the start of a 12-day, 1800 mile trip on what can only be described as not so much roads as very long potholes with an occasional boulder for relief.....

The first was a retired lady, obviously used to being in charge of everything and everybody around her and the other her paid companion - whose first words were 'Oooh, I do hope it's not going to be bumpy because I get terribly travel-sick'........ Rob and I looked at one another in horror, hoping she was joking...... she wasn't......

It was called the 'Kifaru' safari - that's Swahili for rhino.... which was ironic because it was the one animal we couldn't find... but more of that later.... and despite the dust and the bumping and the heat it was, so far as we were concerned a very enjoyable one.... or it would have been - had it not been for the stream of complaints issuing from the seat in front of me where our retired lady held court....

She complained about the food, the beds, the dust, the vehicle - apparently taking offence that every animal in Kenya hadn't lined up along the road to greet her personally..... I have a wonderful photo of Rob with two large chunks of pink Kleenex stuck in his ears and his hands in a strangling position behind her neck.....

We bore all this stoically until our bus finally pulled up at a glorious spot called Lake Bogoria...

I want you, if you will, to imagine the scene. There is a lake, behind which there are rolling hills... There are boiling hot natural geysers spouting water anything up to twelve feet in the air; this descends in a misty spray through which the sun shines, creating rainbows.... and there - round the lake edge are waterbuck and warthogs feeding and one of the greatest bird spectacles in the world - the incredible sight of three million (yes - MILLION) flamingos of every shade of pink from the palest rose to the deepest salmon....standing, preening, feeding or flying... To say nothing of the occasional dark silhouette of a fish eagle swooping overhead, searching for prey... It was, in anyone's book, a stunning scene...

I turned and said to Rob 'Well, there's surely nothing here she can complain about'.... Oh NO? Stepping out of the bus and surveying the flamingos in front of her, she shook her head miserably and pronounced to her companion - 'Oh DEAR! - I thought they'd be PINKER than that!'

We knew then, that there was no hope for her.....

Towards the end of the safari she even threatened to sue the travel company because they had called the safari 'the Kifaru safari' and we hadn't seen a rhino! Fortunately, as we drove out of the last game park on the way back to the airport, we caught sight of a grey lump in the far distance that, on close inspection with very strong binoculars, turned out to be the long awaited rhino... an audible sigh of relief echoed round the bus...



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THE KILL. Watch any TV programme on African wildlife and one tends to get the impression that it's a constant parade of death out there.... that everywhere you turn, you are going to see animals being chased and torn apart. In fact, if you go on safari hoping to see a kill, chances are you are going to be disappointed. We have done 14 safaris and only seen one kill... but then I didn't want to see one. I try not to be a sentimentalist - I know these animals have to kill to live and I accept that - I just didn't want to witness it - any more than I want to visit the abattoir that provides my Sunday roast... But I knew it might happen and I vowed that, faced with it, I would close my eyes, put my fingers in my ears and wait for it to be over... It didn't work out that way...

We were in Samburu Game Reserve, in the north of Kenya. We knew something was happening from the line of buses parked by an area of acacia-scrub. Buses are around all the time but what was unusual was the number of people watching - in total silence. The usual clicking of cameras, the hushed but excited whispers, the movement as people jostled for a better view - was all missing.

Parking behind them we looked over to our right and saw a female cheetah (watched by her two full-grown offspring) slowly creeping from bush to bush towards a browsing gerenuk (a long-necked gazelle)... For nearly twenty minutes she made her way, silently, towards her prey... My arms were aching from trying to keep the video camera focussed on the scene, my heart-rate went up and we could almost taste the tension - but I was still expecting that, when it came to the last few minutes, I wouldn't be able to watch. Suddenly the cheetah broke cover and in a blur of spotted fur moved in on the gerenuk, who instantly took flight - towards our vehicles...

In a matter of moments, the cheetah caught up with it and sprang... there was a small cloud of dust, legs flailed in the air and the gazelle was down, the cheetah's jaws clamped firmly around its neck cutting off its air... in no time it lay lifeless and the cheetahs immediately began to feed before the smell of blood on the air could attract other predators...

I hadn't stopped filming and I hadn't stopped watching.... Whether the black and white lens of the video camera had made it less real or whether it was the excitement I didn't know... I didn't feel sick or shaken - saddened yes, that a beautiful creature had died - but I had long come to accept that that had to happen... but I couldn't understand why I, who cannot stand the smallest hurt to any animal, had not been emotionally torn apart by watching it as I had expected.

When I got home and started to edit the video I realised one possible reason for my reaction to the incident. What had seemed like an age at the time - from the cheetah's breaking cover to the point where the gerenuk lay dead - had taken a total of 14 seconds....

A cruel, terrifying death? Maybe - for a few of those seconds. But is it as terrifying as lying in a hospital bed, incontinent and unable to feed oneself, hooked up to goodness knows how many machines.... seeing months of grief from friends and family or, possibly worse, watching those people trying to be cheerful when they are torn apart inside? Given the two choices, I know which I would prefer. I wouldn't even run.... I would lie down on the ground, bare my neck, close my eyes and be grateful for small mercies....



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THE THINGS PEOPLE SAY (AND DO!) Most Safari Lodges and Camps in Africa have a guest/record book for visitors to sign and comment on their stay and/or to record their animal sightings. These books often contain pithy comments, some of which stick forever in the memory...

Rob's favourite is a cynical one-liner written by someone who had obviously had enough. He had simply written - 'Seen one elephant - seen 'em all!'...... I'm glad in wasn't in HIS bus...

Back to the tiger theme again, I think my favourite was in the animal record book where someone had written 'We saw 1 lion, 1 cheetah, 1 leopard and 1 tiger'... 1-upmanship is not always a good idea...

There was also a touching little story which unfolded over several pages.... A family who stayed at the lodge for several days had somehow rescued a trapped and injured gazelle. Each day they went to find the animal and a full report was put into the book in a child's handwriting. The gazelle appeared to be recovering well from its ordeal. However, the last entry in the book was very short and simple... it read, 'Cheetah caught our gazelle and ate it'....

That's safari for you.

Another time I heard an American lady talking to her daughter. The daughter asked 'Mom - are the animals out there REALLY dangerous? I mean - would they kill you?' If I was quite surprised by the question I was even more surprised by the answer.... 'Oh no, I don't think so' said the mother soothingly, 'I guess they have them sorta trained'....

I was very tempted to ask how she thought anyone could train a Cape buffalo or spotted hyena and surreal visions of Barbara Woodhouse attempting to make them 'Sit!' crossed my mind.... but I said nothing.

I have to confess that, when it comes to safaris I do actually long, in some ways, for the days when it was done in style. I appreciate the up-to-date lodges and camps and their facilities and the fact that it is accessible, financially, for more people (including us!) - but at times I long to see everyone properly dressed in the correct clothes, behaving with some regard for etiquette and above all being QUIET.

One day we were sitting in the foyer of the Norfolk Hotel, waiting for our safari bus when a lady came out of the reception area wearing what can only be described as 'Hollywood Safari' gear. Oh she had on the correct beige and khaki safari jacket and shorts, long socks and boots, yes. She also had a large knife strapped to her leg - God alone knows what she thought she was going to do with it. She wore a safari hat - perched on top of the most enormous, perfectly coiffed and lacquered head of red hair and make up that must have taken hours to put on. She also wore several gold necklaces around her neck, gold earrings, rings and a HUGE 'does-everything-except-make-the-tea' wristwatch as well. Is it any wonder people get robbed, if they parade this kind of wealth in front of people who earn less in a year than it costs to buy just one of those pieces of jewellery? Three to four hours of the dusty and bumpy roads of Kenya, sweating because all the windows of the bus have to stay shut (otherwise the bright orange dust would soon choke everyone and cover everything) lay ahead for her... and pit stops - at garages, where the toilets often come in the squat-over-a-hole-in-the-ground variety or, in emergency, 'bush stops' out in the wild - where you look for the bush that affords the best cover and hope that nothing with teeth lurks nearby.... To say nothing of mornings when she would have to be up at 5.30 and in the safari bus at 6.30 ready for the first game drive of the day... I can't help wondering how (or if?) she survived...

On the subject of 'correct' safari clothes - I once heard a story about a very loud couple (whose nationality shall remain nameless) who walked into a safari outfitters in Nairobi. 'Wow!' said the wife to her husband, looking at the choice of outfits around her, 'We sure found the right place - now what colour do you want?' The proprietor of the shop, an old-colonial type of the first order, drew himself up to his full height, sniffed and said 'Safari outfits come in BEIGE madam!'

Now maybe that was a bit snooty - but I can't help admiring him. It IS tasteless to go on safari in clothes that would look better on the beach in Benidorm or at Disney World. How the hell can you blend in to the surroundings and hope that the animals won't notice you, if you are wearing a red t-shirt and yellow shorts? But people do.....

AND they come on safari with loads of new or borrowed photographic equipment that they don't know how to use and expect the animals to stand still - and the rest of the bus to wait - whilst they figure it out....

AND they come on safari with children who are too young to have an attention span of more than five minutes and exert so little discipline on them that they cannot keep them quiet.... Result? With total disregard to anyone who has actually come on safari to watch and learn, they scare away anything that walks, flies, swims or slithers....

AND they come on safari when they are, believe it or not, terrified of the most harmless of animals... when a bat in the bathroom causes hysterics, an African mouse scurrying across the windowsill in the night means panic or the sound of footsteps on the roof of their tent or chalet starts them trembling and is a cue for rampant insomnia....

Which brings me to my final story....



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MUSIC FROM 'THE LION KING'
(Winamp or similar needed)

Photos from the Maasai Mara THE LION. I woke up about 5.25 in the morning - Room 41,Keekorok Lodge in the Maasai Mara Game Reserve. It was still dark and I knew there were only about 5 minutes left before we would have to think about getting up. There were already sounds in the distance of early morning tea and coffee being prepared by the staff for all of us who were going on the dawn game drives...

All of a sudden a short, unmistakable roar cut through the darkness from just beyond our bathroom window. Nothing sounds quite like a lion...

I sat bolt upright and said, in a hushed whisper, 'Rob - there's a lion out there'... Silence - he was still asleep. Again I said (a bit more loudly) 'Rob - wake up - there's a lion outside'... There was a 'Hmph!' from the bed and then 'It'll go away when we all get up - what time is it anyway?'

I told him and we decided it was about time we were up and getting dressed.... Eventually the bags were packed with all the necessary binoculars, books and cameras and it came time to walk the 100 metres to the lodge for coffee and biscuits. I was ready first, getting impatient and dying for a drink... Rob said 'You go on without me then - I'll catch you up'...

I walked out onto the patio and felt a little chill creep up my spine... Mornings in the Mara can be quite cold until the sun rises but this time it wasn't the temperature affecting me. I was thinking - 'That lion could still be literally a few metres away on the other side of this chalet'.... The 100 metres between me and the lodge restaurant suddenly looked like 100 miles. I started to walk along the stone pathway, trying to look and feel brave - but I don't mind admitting I was scared out of my wits. Unless you've been there, you cannot imagine how it feels to know that, despite all our superiority, man is the least capable animal on the savannah faced with this situation. Had that lion come from behind me, I knew I couldn't run fast enough, I wasn't strong enough, nor had I his knowledge of how to kill - or his teeth... I also knew that if he did decide to attack I wouldn't even hear him until it was too late... My heart was pounding but I tried to walk as calmly as I could - remembering the warnings NEVER to run from a lion...

A LOT of things went through my mind before I reached the lodge. Some I'm better keeping to myself - some I can't even remember now. But one thought I had does stick in my mind... I remember picturing myself lying on the pathway being quietly chomped by a lion who had, let's face it, just got himself a king-size meal.... and thinking... 'well at least I would die here in Kenya... (which is where my heart is, no matter where I happen to be living)... I suppose that's something'...

Which really does sum up how I feel about Africa and safaris.



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All stories © Rosie Hardman, 2000.

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