THE WALL & THE WATERS
Justine Picardie explores Germany, from Berlin to Baden-Baden
animals into vivid focus. That evening was a taste of the days to come, with a leopard sitting regally in the cleft of a tree, lions muzzle-deep in a zebra flank, jackals and hyenas and giraffes everywhere. At Mwiba, we saw the most wonderful array of wildlife, among which, most excitingly for me, were two caracals: diminutive, elusive, bat-eared cats that scurried ahead of us on the road and then darted for cover.
Alex Walker is an African institution: a legend in the world of game guiding, he runs a series of mobile camps across Tanzania and Kenya. Hugely affable, bearded, giving an impression of great, quiet strength, he’s the sort of man you’d want beside you in the trenches. Julian told me that he’d spoken to Walker about our (frankly unreasonable) demands, and they were met, they were exceeded, they were blown from the water. The week we spent with Walker at his two camps – one in the southern Serengeti, one at Kusini, further north – were truly memorable, unique and (this is no exaggeration) life-changing.
Here’s an example that was indicative of the experience as a whole. Within a few hours of arriving at Walker’s camp – proper tents, but with comfortable beds, and each of them with a view to die for – we were out in the Jeep, driven by a dreadlocked Maasai called Benny. The afternoon was fading into evening as we roared out onto the plain, with storms on either side of us – a great billowing mass of cloud over Lake Victoria to the west, lightning forking over the Ngorongoro to the east. And then, there they were, as if Walker had summoned them just for us: a pack of painted wolves lolling beneath a tree. They were astonishingly charismatic, snapping and yapping at one another, before they set off across the grass in search of prey. We followed them for a while, and then the light fell further, and we drove home with thunder rumbling, the sky lit up every few seconds from one side, then the other.
We were plunged deep into the wildebeest migration – at Kusini one of their main routes went straight past our tent, and we fell asleep to the mumbled grunting of the herds, the eerie alien calls of hyenas further off. It’s impossible to describe the sheer numbers of the wildebeest, the sense of a stream of life flowing endlessly along. We saw two male lions perched on a rocky kopje, shaking their manes, lazily eyeing the teeming horde, and spent a morning following a mother leopard and her two cubs as they slunk through the wooded scrubland. I could go on: every day brought some fresh marvel, every moment a new appreciation of the astonishing diversity and richness of this glorious landscape.
We had one night fly-camping, pitching tents in a glade where the kids had archery lessons, and then, as the sun set, we were led to a secluded spot where a copper bath had been filled with warm water, and a cocktail cabinet set up, and the nightjars called from the trees about us. The next morning, we went for a walk through the bush with Walker and his guides, and didn’t see any animals beyond the occasional impala or warthog; but to be with someone who knows the land like Walker does is an education in itself, so that every termite mound, every hoof-print in river mud, every tuft of fur caught on an acacia thorn, spoke of the infinite complexity of this vibrant ecosystem.
It must always have been a challenge for Julian to find an experience to follow Alex Walker, but he did. If Walker is about one kind of authenticity, then Singita, in the north of Tanzania, is another kind. This is a story of wealth and power harnessed to deliver unequivocal good. Paul Tudor Jones, the charismatic US hedge-fund manager, bought a huge swathe of north-western Tanzania in the early years of this century. He recognised that there was a lacuna between the great reserve of the Serengeti and the Maasai Mara in the north, and that a protected corridor was needed for game to move between the two. What he has achieved is something exceptional: where once there was rampant poaching, there is now a rich congregation of lions, giraffes, elephants and leopards. A range of spectacular lodges are nestled across the reserve; Oprah owns a house there. This is also a project that has engaged enthusiastically with the local population: those who once poached are now gamekeepers, those who previously scraped a living are now building careers as chefs, gardeners, waiters and guides.
We stayed in Paul Tudor Jones’ personal lodge – Serengeti House – whose recent inhabitants included the Obamas and the Beckhams. It’s a breathtaking place, overlooking a drinking hole where, on our last night, elephants came to snort and splash. Our guide, Bernard, took us to see new-born lion cubs, baby elephants and hippos wallowing in a lake. Then we came home to our butler, Ngolo, who brought us exquisite food made by Gertrude, our cook, and drinks he mixed from our long bar. This is high luxury, but luxury that is ethical, part of the greater good. The Singita project isn’t some half-hearted nod towards sustainability, it is the future of tourism, that recognises the visitor’s role in shaping the future of the country he or she visits.
I realised, when we returned, that Julian and Yellow Zebra had created an unsurpassable experience of Africa for us. Because once you’ve tasted perfection, it’s hard to make do with the merely excellent. We are living in an age in which people are prepared to pay the highest prices for authenticity, for stepping outside the tourist trail. A proper safari is by its very nature a once-in-a-lifetime experience; our trip contained within it a lifetime’s worth of memories and joy. A safari, if you do it at all, is worth doing right.
Yellow Zebra Safaris (020 8547 2305; www.yellowzebrasafaris.com), from about £8,350 a person a week, not including flights. Singita’s properties can be included at a supplement of from £1,400 a person a night; and Singita Serengeti House, from £7,184 a night (sleeps four).