Safari in Serengeti and Ngorogoro Crater- Northern Tanzania

Banded Mongoose

Claire and Olivier, from Quebec

Serengeti Plains

Crown Cranes

From camp in Mtuambo, we headed out toward the Serengeti, 5,700 sq miles of wild bliss.  To get there, we passed through Ngorogoro Crater wildlife preserve, a giant green crater formed in the Great Rift Valley by some volcanic action.  In the backseat of the Land Rover, Mark and I were grieving.  We were thrilled to be heading toward the Serengeti, but for $795, we had hoped to have better seats.  We were relegated to the back of the Land Rover where we had to strain our neck and back to see out the dusty windows.  Paulo, the cook, sat between us and took pity on our strained bodies.  He motioned that we could open the sun window above our heads and stand on our seats to get a better view.  Our spirts instantly lifted- we were free!  We popped up into the wind and let our hair fly.  From our perch, we could see wild donkeys and Maasai men and children walking in their black tire sandals and tending to their goats and cows that roamed the hills and valleys.  Maasai warriors with their spears were seemingly everywhere.  A few of the wooden-poled Maasai villages had Land Rovers parked outside, evidence of cultural tours taking place.

Elephant Crossing, Ngorogoro Crater

Nightfall in the Serengeti

Leopard Spotting

Sunrise in the Serengeti

Cheetahs sunning on an ant hill

Our driver, Hugo, hauled ass through the dirt roads toward Seronera Campsite, the middle of the Serengeti.  We were loving the views, but at 40-55mph over dirt roads, it was tough to get a good picture of the wildabeast migration.  They were beautiful creatures with their faded leather skins of toupe to brown to black.  I loved the scruff under their necks, like a prettier version of an oversized goat, and I got a kick out of the way they randomly bucked and galloped to play.  This was the perfect time of year to see the 1,000 wildabeast babies that were being born each day.  The hills and plains were filled with wildabeasts and zebras (the two types of animals travel together for protection, just like the impalas and baboons).  The zebras were adorable because they rolled in the mud with their legs in the air while the babies stood like newborn colts with brown felt fur and big eyes.  Some young zebras bucked around for fun while the adults stood rear to head, a way to swat flies off of each other while watching both directions for lions.  By far, my favorite animal, was the magnificent tall giraffe with its beautiful long neck and sprawling legs, exquisite paintbrush tail, and seemingly fake eye-lashes.  I loved watching them regally move over the land, slowly pausing to eat the leaves from the trees.

Around 5pm, we dropped our cook and gear off at camp and headed back out for a 1 hour Sunset Game Drive.  We were sure we’d witness magic on the game drive because already camp was surrounded by water buffalo, herds of elephants, and dozens of banded mongoose (gosh, they’re adorable).  On our game drive, we observed hillsides and plains filled with black-striped Thompson gazelles, pairs of tiny dik diks, and horned grant gazelles.  A hyena ran off into the horizon.  Upon hearing our vehicle, warthogs tightened up, hoisting their paintbrush tails straight into the air and trotting off at top speeds like soldiers in a running march.  Hippos bobbed lazily in a swamp, and we kept our eyes peeled for anything extraordinary.  We were scouts on high alert.  Up the road from our jeep, we spotted a couple of Land Rovers with binoculars in hand.  We pulled over to see what they were looking at, apparently nothing.  Just as we were debating about pulling away, Claire spotted a leopard.  We were in awe as it skulked through tall grasses and sprayed a tree.  Further exciting us, it prowled across the road, rubbed against a tree, wandered back across the road and jumped up into a tree to present an even better view for our camera lenses.  The stocky spotted cat sprawled out across the limb, dangling its feet below.  We were in rapture.

I'd like to take you home with me to be my pet

Dirty hyena

Warthogs, ie: Pumba!

Two rhinos in Ngoro crater

Wildabeast migration

Back at camp, hyenas paid no notice to the armed guard protecting our camp from wild beasts in the night.  Hugo, our driver, had warned us not to leave our shoes out for fear of hyenas.  Sure enough, hyenas tore through camp at about 2:30 in the morning.  I nudged Mark, to have someone awake with me in case something happened, but they left as quickly as they had come.

The following morning, we woke up for tea at 6:30am, daybreak.  Our 5-6 hour game drive would bear spectacular views, but our hands would be chilly.   An ugly spotted hyena raced across a field with awkward jerky movements.  These were fierce, dirty creatures that attack in packs.  I flashed back to the Lion King.  With the colorful sunrise peeking through the trees on the horizon, the sunrise was every bit as beautiful as the Disney movie portrayed.  Wild ostrich and jackals roamed the grasslands, but we were in search of bigger, rarer creatures.  Every giant ant hill caught my eye- could it be a lion?  One anthill particularly caught the light.  I asked if anyone else saw what I was seeing:  two cheetahs sunning themselves on top of an ant hill.  We stopped to stare.  It was amazing.  Through binoculars, we each took turns marveling at their spots and the details of the cheetah’s teared eyes. 

Lions

Ngoro crater

Mark and Annie on a game drive

Seronera Campsite

Maasai greeting vehicles passing by

A few hours in, we saw two jeeps in an area where lions tend to hang out.  Our driver didn’t want to stop, but we each insisted.  Reluctantly, he pulled over and our knees nearly gave out with excitement.  On the banks of the creek, a pride of 12 lions lounged in the sun, totally exposed to our camera lenses just 50 feet away.  It was incredible.  We couldn’t believe our luck.  Our cameras clicked away for at least an hour.  The detail in their ribs was amazing.  One lion wore a tracking collar.  In the tall grasses off to the side of the other lions, the father of the pride blended into the grasses.  Occasionally, he turned his head to have a look and we went nuts with ooohs and ahhhs.  Around the corner from the lions, a yellow belly stork and Crown Crane (the national bird) bathed without concern.

Baboons

Maasai tire sandals

Lions



Zebras



Water buffalo

Wildabeast

I could have stayed all day near the majestic giraffes on the hillsides, but with eyes full of elephants, zebras, and wildabeasts, we progressed to Simba campsite on the rim of Ngorogoro Crater.  From the rim of the crater, we stared 610 feet below to the lush green plains with streams of water throughout the 304 sq km preserve.  Depending on the time of year, the area can be lush green or desert brown.  As we set up camp, Allen proudly delivered news from the outside, protests in Libya were looking like Gadaffi would soon be ousted.  Claire and Olivier were delivered to their ritzy $400 per night lodge.  The photos they later showed us revealed spectacular views from their room and the wrapping veranda.  I was happy for them, but mortified when Allen on three separate occasions invited himself into their beautiful room, something along the lines of “Don’t be surprised if we show up to camp on your floor.”  Yes, it was cold, but we paid to camp, Allen, not sleep in the Hilton at someone else’s expense.  Allen was pushing the limits of tolerance in each of us.  Mark and I bundled up in every article of clothing we could find and created an oven in our tent.  We slept so soundly, we didn’t notice the warthogs rummaging the campsite in the night.

The following morning, we polished off the remains of the hot coffee.  The drinking chocolate had already been emptied the night before in a feeble attempt to restore warmth after the chill of post-rain.  Claire and Olivier rejoined us and shared stories of a beautiful feast at the Hilton, a different world where they felt like shabby backpackers amongst the truly wealthy of the world.  They spoke of European families on vacation with teenagers who didn’t appreciate the safari or pricy accommodations.  “We want to go to Zanzibar; This is boring,” they complained.  Oh, teenagers.  You’re so good at pushing your parent’s buttons, and the work you put in to complaining is really quite remarkable.  The simple act of your parents refraining from throwing you over the balcony to the lions is really a testament to their love for you.

Our morning game drive led us down into the depths of the crater through sections of mossy green trees and rolling hills.  Cattle, goats, and Maasai warriors dotted the sweeping views of the crater.  The plains made it easy to spot wildlife, particularly the tall, dark grey single male elephants with their gorgeous ivory tusks.  We drove over a dirt road where a family of elephants peeled bark off of trees with their trunks.  In a field to our right, a baby elephant frolicked playfully like Dumbo with his big ears flapping.  I was in love and wanted to take him home with me. .. him and a giraffe... create my own little petting zoo in the backyard.  Large numbers of water buffalo ranged wearing horns that reminded me of the Wendy’s girl’s braids.  Pink and white flamingos soared over the lake.  In the distance, we spotted a boulder-looking object.  Hugo informed us that there were no boulders in the crater and that we were indeed seeing a rhino.  Olivier was skeptical; we needed a closer specimen to officially cross it off of his Big Five list.  We managed to see 8 rhinos that day which was very rare.  I’m sure it had something to do with us hassling our driver, Hugo, to pull the heck over.  He was resistant to our requests to see the animals and downright obstinate when it came to our instance to pull over near other jeeps.  We didn’t understand his attitude.  He failed to slow down for our photos until we threatened to form a mutiny.  Needless to say, Hugo did not receive a tip for his failed service.  Before heading back to Arusha, we stopped to have a box lunch at crater lake.  Hugo told us to stay in the vehicle for lunch because the birds were known thieves.  Olivier had had enough of Hugo’s commands, so he and Claire plopped down under a shade tree and commenced lunch.  Instantly, a bird swooped down and stole Claire’s sandwich right out of her hand.  We were laughing hysterically, yet felt bad for her.  I gave her my sandwich and we soldiered on.  It was another beautiful day in Tanzania, and we certainly weren’t going to let a bad driver and thieving bird destroy the last day of our $800 safari.  The 4 of us popped our heads up above the jeep and let the wind scatter our hair as we headed up out of the crater.  It was a lovely day for a safari.

2011 Mt. Kilimanjaro Marathon- Moshi, Tanzania

When our friend, Mike Hale from Colorado, heard about the Mt. Kilamanjaro Marathon, there was excitement in his eyes.  Unforeseen budget constraints had kept him from climbing the mountain, but if there was an option to race around it, he was up for the challenge.  As you may recall, Mark and I accompanied him on his shopping adventure for running shoes in Dar Es Salaam just two short weeks ago.  The last time we saw Mike, he departed the bus and headed into the Usambaro mountains for marathon training, so it was completely unexpected when we were having breakfast in Arusha two weeks later and looked up to Mike standing in the restaurant’s doorway.  “No way!” we smiled.

I felt like such a fatty after all of my safari eating, so I was extra thrilled to have a new running partner.  Mike and I decided to take a sunrise run toward Mt. Meru the following morning.  There were only 2 days before the race, so I thought Mike would make it an easy 30 minute run, but we ended up running and walking for 2 hours.  I had been traveling for 2.5 months, so I was out of practice and my knees were yelling at me.  By the time I got back home, my quads felt clumsy and were slow to respond to my commands to stand or bend.  I could about imagine how much Mike was going to hurt when this race was over.

The 3 of us took a bus from Arusha to Moshi, the base town for Mt. Kilimanjaro and we settled into a cheap hotel.  We weren’t sure what fuel the marathon would provide (if any), so Mark and I decided to support Mike and the other marathon runners by providing cashew nuts, gummy bears, gum, sunscreen, bananas, water, and juice boxes.  We debated about renting a taxi or rickshaw, but in the end decided to go with our own motorcycle.  It turned out to be the perfect way to cheer on the 6,000 runners.  We clapped, cheered, and danced alongside the pack for all 42 kilometers (26.2 miles).  We cheered on Canadian maple leaves, American flag shorts, a Polska jersey, Duetchland t-shirts, Kenyan women, and throngs of Tanzanian kids.

The route layout was a little confusing; it looped back on itself twice from one of the main roundabouts in town.  Tanzanian families lined the streets in clusters, staring incredulously as the runners passed.  Some clapped; some joined in the race; others just stared.  The front of the pack whizzed by at an incredible speed.  The front-runners were a lean, black, streamlined pack of no more than a dozen men.  There were maybe 12 water stations with cups of water and occasionally coke.  Contrary to rumors, there were no bananas, no food, no fuel.  I was shocked.  Surely the $60 entry fee could cover a spaghetti dinner, free bottles of water, swag, or bananas along the way.  Instead, runners were only provided with water, a yellow t-shirt, and a medal at the finish line.  Fortunately, Mike carried Snickers bars, and we kept him supplied with gummies and bananas.  The runners around Mike also benefited from the same.  They joked with us as we cheered them on from the motorbike.  “I want to swap your bike for my tennis shoes!”  “This is so hard!” they cried.  We smiled and kept cheering them on, “Good job!”  “You got this!”  “You’re doing it!” 

The middle of the race seemed particularly discouraging to several runners.  They were tired and the hills began to climb.  Fortunately, there was a breath-taking view of Mt. Kili protruding above the clouds and lush green vineyards on each side.  Some runners were too tired to care, but overall the mountain-view and the vineyards helped keep the temperatures low and spirits high.

Around 31 km in, a 10 year old kid in a green t-shirt started running with Mike.  The young boy ended up finishing by Mike’s side.  Mark and I were impressed.  The finish maze was a bit confusing.  We ran with Mike for the last 1 km to the stadium.  He finished at 5 hours 1 minute, an astounding feat given that he had partied hard 2 nights previous and only trained for 2 weeks.  We were proud to support the marathon runners and were encouraged particularly by the number of 50-60 year old men and women who competed; they were an inspiration.

Preparing for Safari in Serengeti- Arusha, Tanzania

Allen, the least cool Aussie you'll ever meet



As a funny side-note, clothes in Africa are marketed differently than in the States.  In Africa, women’s skirts and pants are displayed on wire hangers that bulge in an exaggerated fashion at the hips, giving the appearance of a very full-figure.  I laugh every time I see it- hubba hubba (big girls are seen as sexy- it means they are healthy enough to avoid malnutrition and wealthy enough to eat well).  Aside from one dress, I haven't been tempted to buy clothes here.



I doubt this display is sells well to Western women

 

4 types of bananas for sale: mini, eating, cooking, and red

Our Land Rover, loaded and ready for the Serengeti

Arusha's Clock Tower, the Center of Africa

Maasai warriers tending to their goats and cows

Mt. Meru, view from just outside Arusha

In total, we spent 8 nights in Arusha, the gateway to the Serengeti.  We hadn’t planned to spend that kind of time in such an armpit town, but that’s the way it worked out.  The first 3 days were spent committing to the idea of spending $795 for 3 days in the Serengeti.  The next 3 days were for safari company research, ATM withdraws, and safari standby arrangements.  The last 2 days were laundry, internet, and travel days.  Slowly, Arusha grew on us.  By the time we left, we knew where to find all the cheap eats in town, and the majority of touts left us alone as we passed by the clock tower to the Hot Bread Internet Café.

Focus in Africa, the company we decided to safari with, checked out with the Tourism Office (they have two booklets, one that reads “Recommended” and another that reads “Black List”), so we made arrangements with Gideon to be picked up around 8:30am February the 20^th.  Mark and I weren’t sure how to pack because when we asked about temperatures, Gideon ambiguously stated, “It’ll be hot; it’ll be cold.”  Our day packs were bundled accordingly, and we drove to Select Safari (a sister company to Focus in Africa) where we met our new travel mates: Claire and Olivier from Quebec, Canada, and Allen, an I.T. mining contractor from Australia.  We instantly hit it off with the French-speaking couple as they were roughly our age whereas Allen quickly became the least cool Aussie we’ve ever met.  Allen, a classic narcissist, demanded the cook’s front seat citing previous motion sickness disasters which may or may not have ever taken place (we infer this because he later cited allergies as he was eating said allergens).  Allen, an annoying flibberty-jibbit, craned his neck to the backseat of the jeep where he spewed biscuits and the occasional spittle as he filled the vehicle with anti-climactic stories and back-door-brags about “got-to-see” travels.  Mark and I lamented being relegated to the backseat of the Land Rover with its low windows and a safari cook, Paulo, crammed in between us.  We tried to console ourselves; we were on our way to safari with the outdoor creatures of the wild Serengeti.

To save costs, we opted out of the Lake Manyara National Park game drive, so while the other 3 went on safari, we got dropped off with our gear at Sun Bright Campsite in Mtowambu.  The camp consisted of a restaurant/bar hut, showers, and proper toilets.  It was Sunday, so church was in session on 3 sides of the campground.  To the sounds of preachers waxing revival style, we opened our picnic box lunches to discover a calorie-laden spread: a triangular sliced veg sandwich on white bread, a canoli-shaped meat pocket, a sugar juice box, a cellophane-wrapped crepe, a cold hamburger, a banana, a hard-boiled egg, a green apple, and a small sleeve of peanuts.  Just a few hours in to this safari and I already felt obese.  Mark and I fell into a semi-coma in our open tent.  Biting ants crawled over my skin as we talked about how we had enjoyed the past 2.5 months in Africa and were now ready for a change.  We had planned on going through the Middle East, but fellow travelers were telling us it could be expensive, and the place was exploding with political protests.  I threw out the question, “What if we could go ANYWHERE in the world?”  South America was next on my list.  “What’s Peru like this time of year?”  Places like Australia and New Zealand were mentioned, but eventually the conversation came back to Greece, Turkey, and the Middle East.

After a few hours of conversing, we emerged from the tent and Mark hired a local teen to retrieve a coconut from a nearby palm tree.  The teen tried to collect $5 for his services.  Instead, we paid $1 and some left-over sandwiches.  We wandered into town with our cameras and heard more church services in session.  As we walked in the shade of trees parallel to the town’s main road, Maasai warriers peddled by on bicycles.  I loved the contrast of these cattlemen in their traditional red and black checkered one-arm Scottish togas and tire sandals using the modern technology of cell phones on their bicycles.  A local man showed us around his shop and took us on a tour of fruit trees behind it.  Shopsmen invited us in to see their children’s paintings, wooden carvings, and bananas for sale.  Men walked beside us with handfuls of necklaces for sale.  Kids held our hands and walked beside us with smiles.  We stopped at an outdoor café for a 35 cent glass-bottle of coke.  At this point, we’d been in Tanzania for almost a month.  We were enjoying it immensely, and were looking forward to our last Tanzanian hoorah- a safari in the Serengeti.

Mini Update- We're Spending Money and Going Places

We shelled out the cash and are leaving this morning for 4 days of camping and safari in Lake Manyara, Ngorogoro Crater, and the Serengeti.  Can't wait to post pics when we get back to Arusha.

Travel Funk- Arusha, Tanzania

Valentine's Day Flowers from Mark

Our Internet Cafe/ Bread Shop

Muslim Parade- Birthday of Prophet Mohammed

The bus ride from Dar to Arusha took nearly 13 hours.  The further west we journeyed, the more we saw changes outside the bus window.  In contrast to the southern region of green fields and full crops, the north was dry and brown.  The skies became wet and hazy.  Contrary to our vivid expectations, Mt. Kilamanjaro was only vaguely perceptible from the town of Moshi.  Defensive locals explained that the skies were always blue (even though they appeared thick and grey to us).  Mark’s and my eyes began to water and we sneezed due to the fields burning (this is the season for burning off the old growth in the fields, making way for new crops to be planted).

We arrived in the dark which nearly always makes a town look more ominous than it actually is in the daylight.  Even so, I was disappointed.  These were the gateway towns to beautiful places like Mt. Kilimanjaro and the famed Serengeti, but they somehow weren’t meeting my expectations.  I skimmed the Lonely Planet Guidebook and settled on a budget hotel for the night, Monjes Guesthouse.  Our taxi driver delivered us to the Manjes Petrol Station and when I insisted that we were looking for a guesthouse, not a petrol station, he gave me a free lesson in pronunciation.  “Moooohhh-njes, not maaahhh-njes,” he intonated.  I was tempted to quip about applying common sense (“gueeeeesthouse, not peeeetrol station”), but just nodded and slumped down in my seat.

The $13 hotel was clean and had a king size bed.  Other than that, I was again disappointed.  The corner sink was miniscule, the tv didn’t work, the walls were paper thin, the first floor window was located next to a noisy parking lot, there was no fan, and worst of all, the vapors from the bathroom squatty potty made the room stink.  To top it all off, the power went out.  I decided to tough it out for the night; we could get a new hotel in the morning.  Morning came and I was going to need some sunlight to face the day, so I opened the drapes, but Mark was concerned about privacy, so he closed them.  I felt deflated.  Why was this so overwhelming?  As we walked into town, I started to nit-pick with Mark about which direction we were going, how we were crossing the street, little unimportant things that were getting under my skin.  I communicated to Mark that I was feeling overwhelmed and needed a decision-free day.  He agreed and suggested we blow some time at an internet café.  I downed two lattes, two hours of internet, and one pack of peanut m&m’s.  I was still overwhelmed, but we came up with a game plan.  Instead of traipsing all over town for another hotel, we’d ask for a bucket to cover and contain the toilet stink, and we’d request a working television.  That helped.  Then we went looking for some pirated DVD’s to kill time.  Along the way we stopped for ice cream and cheeseburgers.  It was all helping, but I was still feeling travel funk, that crappy negativity that can creep up on a person and leave them feeling disoriented and uncertain.

Throughout town, relentless touts followed us around, shaking our hands and thrusting Serengeti business cards into them while filling our ears with chatter about how we should follow them to their tourist office.   Sometimes I can be too direct with salesmen, but I somehow managed to remain indifferent this time around.  I wanted to take a second safari at some point on the trip, but the price tag for the Serengeti was looking like $150/person/day, and it takes a minimum of three days.  Yes there’d be lions, wildabeasts, zebras, giraffes, and big cats, but spending $900 USD on a three day excursion was more than I could manage, not to mention I was a little scared of camping with all of the animals.  I told Mark I needed another day of no-pressure sales to gather my bearings.  Queue the pirated copy of Matt Damon vs. Leonardo Dicaprio laptop DVD’s, HBO’s edited version of “The Hangover” and “17 Again,” some fruit and yougart, and a nap.  We spent a significant portion of each day lounging in bed.  Mark bought me belated Valentine’s Day roses which I put on display in my red Nalgene bottle, and we found a local hole-in-the-wall restaurant with cheap masala chai tea.  The restaurant was a good find for our newly adjusted budget of $29 per day.  Much of the world lives on $2 per day, and here we’d been managing to spend $60 per day.  Our lifestyle was still extravagant by local standards, but from our perspective, being on a new budget kinda sucked.  No more all day snacking and Western meals.  No more unlimited wifi internet at the café.  No more shopping for trinkets and clothing.  On our new budget, food felt scarce, and I nearly growled at Mark when he reached for a sip of my latte splurge.  We both recognized that we were feeling travel fatigue, so we decided to hold off on making any decisions, and just lay low for another day in the dump of Arusha.

Slowly, the travel funk started to fade.  We gathered information about the Serengeti tours, looked into potential routes and destinations.  We had been thinking about going next to Brundi, Rwanda, Uganda, and Kenya, but there was also a possibility of returning to Dar and flying straight to Turkey.  We considered nixing the Middle East entirely.  We threw out the idea of scrapping Turkey due to the cold temperatures.  We debated about heading overland north, but the thought of being landlocked by Sudan, Somolia, Chad, and Congo was a problem.  Neither of us was willing to spend two weeks on a boat heading up the Red Sea or White Nile-  I mean, let’s face it- there are only so many books and movies a person can entertain themselves with on a two week boat ride.  We explored the possibility of getting dropped off north of the park and slowly making our way to Nairobi.  There were too many options and nothing seemed desirable.

We ventured to the Tourist Information Office to confirm the legitimacy of Focus, the company we were looking at for the Serengeti Tour, and stopped next door at the posh Africafe.  As we sat in plush chairs under modern lighting and cherry wooden ceiling beams, the skies magically parted and the sun streamed through.  Instantly, our spirits felt lifted.  We realized it was the first stream of sunlight we had seen in over three days.  I felt like I could sit up straight again.  In honor of the sun, we ate supper outside in the courtyard- gouda cheese on multigrain crackers, salted cashews, papaya, bananas, and an apple.  Again, I was feeling more restored, stronger, normal.

The following morning, I woke up smiling.  Mark woke up joking.  We both teased each other and laughed.  The power was out, but sunlight streamed through the drapes.  The travel funk had finally lifted.  We went to breakfast next door at Pizzarusha and enjoyed reading the newspaper and gabbing about our travel experiences, and our friends back home.  After three days of travel funk, we were finally free to enjoy ourselves again.