Tarangire National Park - Tanzania
VROOM! VROOM! 5 minutes to departure and still 5 km’s to go, my boda boda driver and I weaved through Mombasa rush hour traffic with the urgency of a pregnant woman in labor. Recklessly pressing through the nominal space afforded between bumpers, we inched closer and closer to the bus station and my rapidly approaching departure time….SPUTTER! POOF! The boda engine blew! Ahh!!! Heaving my big bag on back and small bag on front, I took to the streets. Appearing more like a deranged penguin, then a backpacker, I waddled through the congested streets, sidestepping samosa carts, tea stands, slow pedestrians and the extended hands of dozens of children. Sweaty and flustered, I arrived with one 1-minute to spare. Hastily flashing my rumpled ticket to the Raqib Coach attendant, a wide uncomfortable smile crawled across his face. “My friend,” he said, “we have a slight problem.”
The bus, scheduled to depart at 6:30 am, would be delayed 30-minutes. In “Africa Time” this means anywhere from 30-minutes to 1 full day. Weighing on the side of optimism, I plopped down on the dusty road shoulder and extracted my latest novel. “Only 30-mintes Reg, relax.” 1 hour, 2 hour, 3 hour, 4! My optimism glass, which was once half-full, now registered empty! Unwilling to refund our money, the smug faced attendant continued to say, “Hakuna Matata, Africa Time”, to which I finally responded, “Return my money or I will call the police!” Seconds from hitting send on the police digits, the “luxury coach” rambled in - Raqib Coach, more like Rancid coach. Hot, bothered and covered in hours of roadside dust and exhaust, I struck one last death stare at the attendant, and reluctantly huffed aboard.
8 bumpy hours and 1 expensive border crossing later (100 USD for Tanzania) I arrived in Arusha – the jumping off point for the famed, Serengeti Region.
Selecting the cheapest hostel in the Lonely Planet, Arusha Backpackers, I was relieved to find the “LP Curse” had not laid claim. In other words, once a recommendation is published in the “bible” (The Lonely Planet), service goes down and prices go up…often considerably. Thankfully, prices hadn’t changed in years, 8 USD/night for a dormitory, and the service was impeccable. “Free” wifi also circled throughout the happening rooftop bar and the showers were…get this…HOT! Soaking up this liquid luxury, I scrubbed for what felt like hours! Weeks of filth and grime finally meeting their warm, soapy fate!
Next order of business, safari research. Although speaking with tour guides at 9 p.m. was not my idea of fun, I had a gut instinct it would behoove me in the long run. Enter Samuel - a plump, clean-shaven, jovial Tanzanian with impeccable English. Owner of Victoria Expeditions, he offered a 3-day tour (Tanangire National Park, Ngorgoro Crater Conservation & Lake Manyara) for the “reasonable” price of 420 USD! I about choked. Stuffing my lungs back in my constricted chest, I calmly replied, “Sorry Samuel, it is way out of my budget.” Besides, I only wanted to visit the Ngorgoro Crater Conservation, not 2 additional parks. The cheapest Crater tour ran 200 USD, again, a price I was not willing to pay. Seeing my peril, Samuel went to work on my budget bones, encouraging a trip to Tanagire National Park and Ngorgoro Crater (“a special package just for me”) for the special reduced price of 260 USD. A steal for most, but an amount I could not commit to without sleep. Thanking Samuel for his time, I climbed the two flights of stairs to my small dorm and collapsed on my lower bunk, hitting REM in record time.
Another stroke of luck, my roommate from the night before, a Flemish girl named Lynn, booked with the same company. Quick witted, like-minded and extremely animated, Lynn and I got on like a house on fire. A sentiment also shared with our guides. Edson and Hassain. Energetic and passionate about their jobs, Edson, our Landcruiser driver spoke English while Hassain, the official tour guide, spoke only French with the 3rd and only other safari client, Nicola, a middle-aged, conservative French woman.
I appreciated both the guides but Hassain, although extremely kind, would test my nerves within the first hour. He loved to hear himself speak and although he probably provided a wealth of information for the French woman – I couldn’t understand any of it! I asked Edson for more details in English but his mixed concentration between the road and commentaries, created many gaps in his answers filled by none other then Hassain. Looking intently into my eyes, he rattled off some French answer to which I continuously responded, “No French, English please”. A request he refused to acknowledge . Thank goodness for Lynn. Speaking both English and French fluently, she became my personal translator.
Thankfully, Tanzania has invested a lot of money in their road system and the first few hours of our journey were graced with smooth pavement. Gazing toward the distant horizon, a tan and russet colored landscape stared back. An arid land where farming is almost impossible and nomadic herding becomes the primary sponsor of human life. The Maasai tribe, believed to have originated in Egypt, settled in the area between Tanzania and Kenya thousands of years ago and are an unmistakable and unforgettable part of the landscape. Cloaked in red, blue, or purple plaid fabrics (depending on tribal rank) with large sticks in hand, the Maasai people roam this land as they did thousands of years ago – moving their cattle herds to food and water sources. Cattle are their livelihood. Wasting no part of the beast, they eat every piece of flesh, appendage and organ and even drink the blood. What’s not consumed - skin, hair, and bones - are used for clothing, jewelry, pottery, etc. They even capitalize on cow poo – packing and drying cow paddies for housing construction materials. The number of cows a Masaai has is the primary measure of affluence. The more cows you own, the richer you are and subsequently the more wives you can marry. Maasai practice polygamy but the society really should be considered matriarchal. The women do everything!!!
The bus, scheduled to depart at 6:30 am, would be delayed 30-minutes. In “Africa Time” this means anywhere from 30-minutes to 1 full day. Weighing on the side of optimism, I plopped down on the dusty road shoulder and extracted my latest novel. “Only 30-mintes Reg, relax.” 1 hour, 2 hour, 3 hour, 4! My optimism glass, which was once half-full, now registered empty! Unwilling to refund our money, the smug faced attendant continued to say, “Hakuna Matata, Africa Time”, to which I finally responded, “Return my money or I will call the police!” Seconds from hitting send on the police digits, the “luxury coach” rambled in - Raqib Coach, more like Rancid coach. Hot, bothered and covered in hours of roadside dust and exhaust, I struck one last death stare at the attendant, and reluctantly huffed aboard.
8 bumpy hours and 1 expensive border crossing later (100 USD for Tanzania) I arrived in Arusha – the jumping off point for the famed, Serengeti Region.
Selecting the cheapest hostel in the Lonely Planet, Arusha Backpackers, I was relieved to find the “LP Curse” had not laid claim. In other words, once a recommendation is published in the “bible” (The Lonely Planet), service goes down and prices go up…often considerably. Thankfully, prices hadn’t changed in years, 8 USD/night for a dormitory, and the service was impeccable. “Free” wifi also circled throughout the happening rooftop bar and the showers were…get this…HOT! Soaking up this liquid luxury, I scrubbed for what felt like hours! Weeks of filth and grime finally meeting their warm, soapy fate!
Next order of business, safari research. Although speaking with tour guides at 9 p.m. was not my idea of fun, I had a gut instinct it would behoove me in the long run. Enter Samuel - a plump, clean-shaven, jovial Tanzanian with impeccable English. Owner of Victoria Expeditions, he offered a 3-day tour (Tanangire National Park, Ngorgoro Crater Conservation & Lake Manyara) for the “reasonable” price of 420 USD! I about choked. Stuffing my lungs back in my constricted chest, I calmly replied, “Sorry Samuel, it is way out of my budget.” Besides, I only wanted to visit the Ngorgoro Crater Conservation, not 2 additional parks. The cheapest Crater tour ran 200 USD, again, a price I was not willing to pay. Seeing my peril, Samuel went to work on my budget bones, encouraging a trip to Tanagire National Park and Ngorgoro Crater (“a special package just for me”) for the special reduced price of 260 USD. A steal for most, but an amount I could not commit to without sleep. Thanking Samuel for his time, I climbed the two flights of stairs to my small dorm and collapsed on my lower bunk, hitting REM in record time.
Another stroke of luck, my roommate from the night before, a Flemish girl named Lynn, booked with the same company. Quick witted, like-minded and extremely animated, Lynn and I got on like a house on fire. A sentiment also shared with our guides. Edson and Hassain. Energetic and passionate about their jobs, Edson, our Landcruiser driver spoke English while Hassain, the official tour guide, spoke only French with the 3rd and only other safari client, Nicola, a middle-aged, conservative French woman.
I appreciated both the guides but Hassain, although extremely kind, would test my nerves within the first hour. He loved to hear himself speak and although he probably provided a wealth of information for the French woman – I couldn’t understand any of it! I asked Edson for more details in English but his mixed concentration between the road and commentaries, created many gaps in his answers filled by none other then Hassain. Looking intently into my eyes, he rattled off some French answer to which I continuously responded, “No French, English please”. A request he refused to acknowledge . Thank goodness for Lynn. Speaking both English and French fluently, she became my personal translator.
Thankfully, Tanzania has invested a lot of money in their road system and the first few hours of our journey were graced with smooth pavement. Gazing toward the distant horizon, a tan and russet colored landscape stared back. An arid land where farming is almost impossible and nomadic herding becomes the primary sponsor of human life. The Maasai tribe, believed to have originated in Egypt, settled in the area between Tanzania and Kenya thousands of years ago and are an unmistakable and unforgettable part of the landscape. Cloaked in red, blue, or purple plaid fabrics (depending on tribal rank) with large sticks in hand, the Maasai people roam this land as they did thousands of years ago – moving their cattle herds to food and water sources. Cattle are their livelihood. Wasting no part of the beast, they eat every piece of flesh, appendage and organ and even drink the blood. What’s not consumed - skin, hair, and bones - are used for clothing, jewelry, pottery, etc. They even capitalize on cow poo – packing and drying cow paddies for housing construction materials. The number of cows a Masaai has is the primary measure of affluence. The more cows you own, the richer you are and subsequently the more wives you can marry. Maasai practice polygamy but the society really should be considered matriarchal. The women do everything!!!
3 hours after departing Arusha, Edson pulled into the lively carpark of Tanangire National Park. I honestly didn’t expect much from Tanangire. Just a simple add on to the more famous, Ngorgoro Crater portion of the trip. Thankfully, however, Tanagire responded to my reluctance - providing my best safari yet!
Compared to Nakuru National Park in Kenya or Murchison Falls National Park in Uganda, Tarangire has a much higher concentration of wildlife. Not just a few dozen zebras or small packs of impalas, this park has hundreds gathered in each sighting. It also houses the highest concentration of elephant then any other park in Africa. Best of all, it was baby season. Every large animal followed closely by a mini-me replica. Their naïve eyes, wobbly legs, awkward trunks, and utter dependence on Mom portrayed nature in its finest hour. Some moms tried to shield their youth from our inquisitive stares while others practically offered them up for an endless photo op. |
Take the monkeys for instance. While enjoying lunch, three mother monkeys with babies clung around their mid sections, allowed me to move within feet of their low tree branch locale. Overwhelmed by these uncommon moments of intimacy, I snapped photos like a demon until the puppy eyes of the nearest youth, caught mine. Losing all interest in, “the perfect shot”, I simply watched. The wee ones wrapped tightly in their mothers arms with only an occasional foot or hand peaking beneath the mothers fur. I couldn’t believe how human-like the babies were. Lacking the huge mat of adult hair, their small faces reflected smooth lines, their ears displayed perfectly rounded characteristics (although proportionally larger to their tiny heads) and their hands, aside from a bit of hair, were human like right down to their whitish finger nails. Lynn and I mused it was a, “Benjamin Button Baby”. Hairy and wrinkly yet young and fragile.
The other big safari highlight, and historically the most difficult to spot, the infamous leopard! Perched high above the dry savannah, this spotted marvel sprawled out amongst the branches of a large acacia, digesting her epic meal. The main course, impala, as displayed on the adjacent branch. Limp and gnarled, the body lay as trophy for all other predators to admire. Belly full, her four legs hung limp on either side of the thick branch while her head lulled from side to side. Her only other movements, occasional toothy yawns and lip smacks.
A final Tarangire speciality, the landscape. Studded with "Baobab Trees", these massive trunks rise against the otherwise sparse surrounds. The largest tree in the world, they are also known to locals as, “upside down trees”. Their branches appearing more like roots that should be planted below the earth, not rising high above it. I could just imagine Rafiki from the Lion King governing his kingdom from high above its broad trunk. |
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The only bad characteristic of Tarangire…those damn Tetse Flies. Can’t escape them. And, I once again forgot the cardinal rule of Tetse, “No dark clothing, especially blue.” Large pieces of poisoned grey and blue fabric hang throughout the park, attempt to pull the Teste attention away from tourists, but in my case, they just thought I was another canvas. Grey and Blue Reg…could you be more poorly dressed.
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Retiring to our evening campsite, Lynn and I had no sooner sat down for dinner when the power blew. But our concern was not lighting, it was charging. Heaven forbid, how will we charge our depleted camera batteries? Edson assured us the power would come on by morning so with that, we sat back, relazed and savored leek soup, Tanzanian spaghetti, and buttered bread between swigs of our Sprite and Konyagi (Tanzanian gin). Perfect first day of Safari.
Check out Day 2: Ngorgoro Crater Conservation
Check out Day 2: Ngorgoro Crater Conservation