Narok County, Kenya
We meet in the lobby at 7am, eight intrepid explorers gathered for an African adventure. From Detroit come the Chen family - Harrison, Olivia and Lee; from Australia husband and wife pair Keith and Nancy; travelling solo but a fellow Aussie comes Karen; and then from Ireland and England there's Coman and me.
We've all slept badly, having variously arrived into Nairobi the night before, our broken dreams exacerbated by jet lag, malaria pills, barking dogs and, in our case, an erratically humming minibar. We'd also had to change rooms as our first was lacking mosquito nets around the beds, with our second raising an eyebrow with the porter as it has just a double bed.
We're too tired to change rooms a third time, despite being aware that East Africa is hardly homo-friendly, so a handsome tip lays any questions to rest and we're free to unpack our bags and crack open a Tusker beer before our restless attempts at sleep.
Once briefed about our forthcoming safari we split into two vehicles, ourselves with the Chens and the Aussie trio in a second jeep. Our journey out of Nairobi traces a different route to our arrival last night where we had driven through the downtown modern metropolis, with its neon advertising and corporate buildings.
This morning, under grey leaden skies, we head through the poorer outer suburbs, past shanty towns and villages of corrugated iron and half-finished concrete sat in mud and dust. Along the side of the road people walk to work, buy food from the roadside shacks, or go to one of the thousands of evangelical churches that seem to be as plentiful as the butchery stalls, ripe with hanging meat.
As we travel further our driver Martin points out tea and coffee plantations and huge greenhouses growing roses for export. After an hour, as the sun starts to break through the clouds, we arrive at our first stop overlooking The Great Rift Valley, a jaw dropping sight. The sign by the inevitable gift shop informs us that it stretches 9600km from Mozambique to Israel, one of the great wonders of the natural world.
Pictures duly taken, we drive into the valley down a road built in 1942 by Italian POWs. They also built a Catholic Church to welcome travellers as they descend, but it seems the unloved edifice is mirrored by its fading importance. I ask its name but Martin is uncertain. "Er, Saint Something" comes his reply.
The road stretches for many miles, long and undulating over the valley floor, populated by belching buses and lorries, through changing and beautiful wide open lands. Some parts fertile enough for wheat fields, others semi arid desert, we travel past occasional villages and grocery stalls, donkeys carrying huge bags of wood to be turned into charcoal and the odd industrial installation, including a gigantic complex housing the legions of Chinese workers building the new Mombasa to Nairobi railway.
After three hours we pull into the busy town of Narok for a rest stop and as we wait more and more safari vehicles pull up, all using the last facilities before we turn off road and drive cross-country to reach the fabled Maasai Mara. Martin warns us that the next two hours are going to be very bumpy and we should prepare for an "African massage!"
The tarmac road continues through increasingly barren land for another 30 minutes or so but I'm taking no chances and inflate the travel cushions we've bought especially for this bit of the journey. Sure enough the tarmac suddenly ends and only dirt track remains. Apparently they start the mammoth task of tarmacing the road all the way to the Mara next month, but for now the track becomes a bone-shaking feat of endurance. However the cushions work a treat!
Bouncing along we catch our first glimpse of Maasai tribespeople walking along the road, and soon after wildlife comes into view. First Coman spots a giraffe, then we see a couple of wildebeest and in the distance a zebra. To be honest I'm surprised they're not fleeing from the terrible racket our jeep is making, spraying rubble and rock in its wake.
As we venture deeper, we see gazelles and spectacular scenery, mud hut villages and goat farmers, eventually arriving at the entry to the Maasai Mara Reserve at 1pm. Passing through the gates we travel a couple of kilometres more to pull up at our base for the next two nights, the Mara Sopa Lodge.
Themed around the Maasai ("sopa" means "hello") it is decorated with Maasai paintings and carvings and has traditional Maasai entertainment in the evenings. We're treated to a display of dance on our first night, involving a troop of Maasai ululating and jumping for about half an hour.
Open as we are to cultural experiences, it does go on a bit in slightly shambolic fashion with little variation on the basic theme. Karen, more prosaic after a few red wines, ventures, "And this is why they invented television."
The following day we get given the full Maasai experience. Completing our safari we're taken to a traditional village where we are welcomed by another jumping dance. At the end I am picked from the assembled group and given the honour of being draped in a robe and crowned with the chief's hat, made of lion mane, and staff before Coman and I are led by one of his sons into a pitch black hut, constructed of cow dung, and shown how the Maasai live.
The chief's son is confused by our relationship, especially as Coman and I give somewhat conflicting versions of how we are related. We're shown how to make fire, clean our teeth, keep livestock, create medicine and more but, having expected none of this, all we are concerned about are the amount of mosquitoes biting us in this house of excrement, having left our repellent in the jeep.
While the chief's son starts his well-rehearsed sales pitch about which one of his wives has made which piece of jewellery that we are now expected to buy - resulting in me simply donating every Kenyan shilling I have on me as it doesn't buy even the smallest item - Coman is bleeding from a nasty bite on his hand meaning the cultural exchange goes somewhat sour in a flurry of his clear financial disappointment and Coman's vivid blood.
We return to the lodge for a Christmas Eve dinner, soundtracked by terrible carols, and the enormous task of editing down the hundreds of photos we have taken inside the Maasai Mara... of which, more to come soon. We saw some incredible things!!
