A little disgruntled from lack of sleep on the short overnight flight from Cape Town, I am eyeing the swamp-like traffic conditions and drones of people walking to work on the city streets of Nairobi. I don’t recall Kenya’s capital quite this busy, but then it’s been close to 20 years since I was last here.
Somewhat relieved to arrive at Wilson Airport in plenty of time for my flight to the Maasai Mara, I notice that little has changed.
That is, except for the flat screen monitors displaying flight information, the cute coffee shop upstairs serving croissants and bagels, and the security, which has been stepped significantly more than what I remember.
Flying over the rift valley and slowly leaving heavy clouds behind, I spot the occasional Maasai kraal on the open expanse below.
And when the small Air Kenya aircraft touches down on gravel with a short skid of the wheels some 40 minutes later, it is just as I remember.
Surrounded by open savannah land, with tall waving yellow grass, I see zebra, wildebeest and Thompson gazelles slowly drifting past, almost mirage-like in the quivering heat of the mid-morning sun.
The Maasai Mara in Kenya is one of the most spectacular wildlife places in the world, and for many, it is the ultimate safari dream.
Often touted as the greatest wildlife show on Earth, its trump card remains the annual migration, during which an estimated one million wildebeest and some 200 000 zebra make the arduous journey north from the Ndutu Plains in Tanzania.
But getting there is costly, as are conservation fees and, as the final blow, the prices of safari lodges and camps, which are firmly set in US dollars.
So, it’s a huge relief to find a portfolio of camps that offer South Africans special rates. Asilia Africa’s Rekero Camp, situated on the banks of the Talek River, near the confluence of the Mara River, is one such example.
Consisting of just nine spacious classic safari-style tents with full en-suite facilities, the camp is perfectly positioned for visitors to witness the annual migration during the July-October season.
But you need not visit the Mara to enjoy phenomenal wildlife sightings. And my March trip is a case in point.
We haven’t even arrived at the camp, and bang! We come across a leopard perched on a rock in broad daylight. “It is Bahati,” smiles Daniel Morompi, the guide who is driving us to Asilia Rekero Camp.
“She is the daughter of, and granddaughter of – two leopards made famous by the BBC’s Big Cat Diary television series.”
Stretching languidly, Bahati yawns and comes down from her perch, walking straight past our vehicle at only an arm’s length. Striding along, she ascends a termite hill to peer over the landscape before jumping off to disappear into the sun-bleached grass.
I almost pinch myself as we continue driving.
A little later as we pull into the well-concealed Rekero bush camp, I am met by the manager who runs the camp with staff comprising a mixture of local tribes, including Kalenjins and Kisii, as well as Maasai. Unfenced and enshrined by riverine forest, the camp is divine.
“We’re not exactly a quiet camp,” I am told. “There is a lot of activity at night, so, things may get a little noisy.”
Zipping up the tent flap and showing me around, she leaves me to settle in, which I do with great vigour. The interior is lovely and very spacious; traditionally designed and containing everything a gal could possibly want. The en-suite bathroom has a flush toilet and bucket shower, for which hot water is provided twice a day.
There is even an anteroom, a canvas-covered vestibule or foyer if you prefer, complete with coffee table, director’s chairs and a day bed to relax on with a view over the Talek River.
It is also where early coffee or tea is served as a morning wake-up call before the morning game drive.
This, surely, is camping at its best.
Lunch is served outside, overlooking a bend in the river, after which we head out on our afternoon game drive. The sweeping landscape, broken only by a soulfully lone acacia tree on the distant horizon, is breathtaking. Driving towards the confluence between the Mara and Talek Rivers, our vehicle rouses the curiosity of a very young, still-black hyena pup that sticks out a stubby nose from the den. “STOP!” I yell, realising that the driver has not seen it.
Reversing back, I can’t see anything anymore, and just as I am about to doubt myself, a little face peers out from the grass. “There!”
With the engine switched off, we wait for a while before the little cub appears once more, followed by a second and third. Soon all the siblings are out, and begin to play.
It’s a rare sight and even more spectacularly so when three adult hyenas lope across the savannah towards the den. By the time we return to camp, it is close to nightfall. Askaris, or Maasai guards – clad in colourful traditional red-checked shukas, and bearing spears – accompany us to our tents to freshen up before dinner.
“Just call me,” my askari advises, “when you are ready.”
After a candle-lit dinner under canvas, I am escorted back to my tent. Incredibly, no more than 20 minutes afterwards, as I lay in bed, I hear elephants trumpeting very close by, followed by the rustling sounds of leaves on trees.
It is pitch dark, so I can’t see anything through the tent mesh, but there, perhaps three to four metres away, I hear an entire family herd feeding from the trees.
We catch up with presumably the same herd of elephants that was around camp in the grey post-dawn light, discovering a tiny little calf that is hurtling around, flapping its tiny trunk as if not sure what to do with it. A little later, picking up a strong scent emanating from the thick treeline, we find two male lions, hungrily gnawing at the fresh carcass of a buffalo.
By the looks and smell, of things, the lions made their kill during the early morning hours, and given the overwhelming odour, we don’t stick around for too long.
Appearing much more refined are the family of cheetahs that we come across later in the day during the afternoon drive. The four lovely big cats are alert and, pretty soon afterwards, on the move.
We follow them for a while, revelling in the playful chase-and-pounce sessions that the cubs have obviously learnt to perfect.
Just as I think it cannot get any better, Daniel spots two adult lionesses lying on a low hill with their offspring gambolling about, practising pincer movements and bites to each other’s necks that suddenly conjure up the image of the two males on the buffalo.
After all this, it is Bahati who grants us the final surprise. Drawing out of a thick riverine shrub, she steps out into the open to bask in the morning light. Completely at ease with ourselves and two other vehicles, she remains poised until a large troop of screeching baboons appears from a valley.
Lowering her back and neck, she slinks into the patch of yellow grass beside the road, blending in so well that it is impossible to see so much as a single patch of fur.
The baboons amble past purposefully, except for the screaming youngsters, and only when they have completely disappeared, Bahati rises like the proverbial phoenix from the ashes.
I can’t believe this show of practical magic, and only now understand the meaning of a leopard’s incredible stealth and camouflage.
Driving back to the Ol Kiombo airstrip, I contemplate my fly-in visit to the reserve. Conservancies are popping up all around the Mara, creating massive buffer areas that allow free movement for migrating wildlife into dispersal areas, and which promote more of a sustainable and harmonious balance between people and wildlife in the greater Maasai Mara.
And with Asilia Africa’s presence in both the conservancies and the park itself, South Africans are perhaps a little closer to that special safari. Now, what could be better than that?
l For more information on Asilia Africa’s special rates for South Africans, please visit www.asiliaresidentsafaris.co.za