SIX-NIGHT SAFARI VISIT TO AFRICA FULFILS WOMAN’S LIFELONG DREAM
Breathtaking beauty in Tanzania without yellow fever-carrying mosquitoes
“I think I’ll cry when I get there,” my wife Carrie said when we booked our trip to Africa.
Twenty years ago, she stared death down when life-threatening complications from kidney failure sought to take all her dreams away. Luckily, she received a kidney transplant. With new life, she was able to become a teacher, have a family, and pursue her love of travel. But Africa?
There was always one tiny thing that stood in the way of a trip to Africa — mosquitoes that carry yellow fever. It’s endemic in many parts of Africa and South America. Most people can protect themselves by getting a yellow fever vaccine, but because it’s a live vaccine, it’s something transplant recipients can’t receive.
Having to take a twice-daily dose of anti-rejection medications, Carrie has a heightened awareness of the fragility of her health. And with a compromised immune system, there is a good chance she would become seriously ill.
We put Africa out of our mind. But some dreams don’t go away. They visit you and tug at your sense of wanderlust.
Researching some destinations to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary, I realized the East African country of Tanzania doesn’t have mosquitoes that carry yellow fever.
This was our opportunity.
We would first go on a sixnight safari, then spend a week enjoying the sun on the island of Zanzibar, which sits about 50 km off the coast of Tanzania.
Booking a safari, we came to learn, can be overwhelming. There are hundreds of safari companies to choose from, all seemingly offering the same thing. The cost typically includes everything — transportation, accommodation, meals and driver. There are certain prices that are fixed, such as national park permits, but a safari can be tailored to your budget.
In the end, there is a certain leap of faith you need to take when choosing a company. We went with Wildebeest Safaris and were pleased with their service leading up to the trip and during the safari.
On our second day, we drove to the Serengeti, the oldest national park in Tanzania. Much of the way, we travelled along a bone-jarring, dusty, I-think-this-jeep-is-going-to-fall-apart dirt road. It was a journey every bit worth it.
Along the way, we passed small villages home to the nomadic Masai people. Young Masai boys and men walked with their goats and cattle in search of grass and water. Some of the boys wore black cloaks and a detail of white chalk on their faces. This is a traditional rite of passage, which includes circumcision. After a few months, the boys become warriors, and protectors of the village.
We visited one Masai village, where we learned about their culture and traditions. The village chief told us that women have five jobs and men have two.
“Oh, really,” Carrie replied, with a not-so-subtle hint of inflection in her voice.
The Masai also practice polygamy, but it’s the wives who apparently help choose the next wife to ensure they will get along. A new house made of clay, cow dung and grass is built by the village women for each wife. Cattle are important for the Masai, and as the herd grows, so, too, must the help; hence the reason for large families. I tell Carrie that if I were a Masai, I think I would have 10 wives.
“You think so, do you?” she said in a way that suggested I should stop dreaming.
Once at the Serengeti, which means land of endless space, we popped the roof of our jeep. I looked around in every direction. It was breathtakingly beautiful: the grassy plains, the colour of honey, stretched on seemingly forever and wispy white clouds were brushed against a perfect blue sky.
Looking across the great expanse, I wondered if we’d see any animals. But it wasn’t long before we were in the midst of zebras, baboons, wildebeest, a hippo sunning itself, and two giraffes.
I imagined hearing Elton John as we watched a few lions dine on a wildebeest. And not far away we were witness to two lions mating. The lovemaking lasted five seconds and then both lions were asleep.
Later, we came upon a large family of elephants, including some little ones who stayed close to their mothers. We watched in awe as these gentle giants wandered past our jeep.
With the sun falling slowly to the horizon, we found our accommodation, which would be home for the next two nights. In the middle of the Serengeti wilderness were 14 tents. But this wasn’t the kind of tent you might imagine when you go camping. They have flush toilets, a king-sized bed and running water. And when we wanted a warm shower, the staff would bring a large bucket of hot water and fill a small tank at the back of the tent.
At night, when we wanted to go to the dining tent we had to wave our flashlights to alert one of the staff who would escort us in case there were animals nearby.
Carrie had a mental wish list of animals she wanted to see. And after two days of criss-crossing the Serengeti, we were able to see most of them, even a beautiful cheetah that had gorged itself on a gazelle, then preened for us on a small dirt hill before walking off to rest under the shade of a tree.
Our guide, David, caught on that Carrie would like to see a leopard (and preferably sitting perfectly on the branches of a tree). But this isn’t a zoo, and there wasn’t a guarantee of a sighting.
Undeterred, we set off to an area where David had seen leopards on previous visits. Nothing. We then spent 45 minutes waiting next to some bushes, where one had been spotted. Still nothing. Off to another area, where a small caravan of safari jeeps had stopped. And there it was, a leopard climbing down from its per china tree.
Carrie, flashed me one of those “this so cool, we are actually here” smiles.
We left the Serengeti and retraced our route south to the Ngorongoro Crater. There are places on this planet that are so unique there isn’t another anywhere else. This is the case for the Ngorongoro Crater, which was formed millions of years ago when a volcano exploded and collapsed on itself. The floor of the crater covers 260 sq. km and sits 2,000 feet below the rim.
With stream sand lakes, the crater has an ecosystem all its own. I imagined Noah’s Ark had once sailed into the crater and emptied its cargo of animals.
Driving the steep road out of the crater, where forest, thick with trees, clung to the crater wall, I looked back as the grey skies gave way to the afternoon sun, which flooded the crater floor with light.
Beautiful.