Safari Part 6b

September 3, 2009 (Serengeti Day 3)

Continued...

We continue steadily north until we come to the edge of the Serengeti. There is a stretch of no man’s land, a 6 mile wide swath, which divides Tanzania and Kenya. Their borders have been closed for years.

We lunch at the edge of the park and drive up to the border to find that we are greeted by one of the creepiest welcome signs I’ve ever seen, we may as well be headed into a prison and not one of the most amazing parks I’ve ever seen. The sign is a heavy block of concrete with peeling black paint that is topped by the skull of a Cape Buffalo. I have a feeling tourists don’t often get to this sign. Who knows…

On our way back in the park, we come across a pride of lions that have made a zebra kill. The black, white and red of the zebra stand out starkly against the tan of the grass and lion fur. Across the road, not 50 yards from the kill and pride, is the herd of zebra. A group of three stands stock still at the edge of the road staring at the lions eating one of their own. These zebras do not move a muscle the entire time we are there. As we pass them on the road, they do not flinch or move. Their focus never wavers.

Great vistas open beneath us as we drive in these hills. There are moments when you look out and realize that you can see giraffe, elephant, zebra, wildebeest, eland, warthog, and impala spread out together on the same hill, living in a peaceful afternoon light. Can this be real?

The day has been cloudy and cool. And by late afternoon, the Serengeti is putting on a spectacular light display. Rays break through the clouds, lighting the animals and savannah below. It’s as if she knows this is our last day and is saying a lovely farewell.

We return to camp, and for our last evening together, Anita, Lisa and I decide to all wear the shukas that Mike has given us. We get cleaned up, make some dresses from the Maasai wool, and head up for dinner. Mike is dressed beautifully too, and he loves our outfits. Tonight, we will close down the restaurant yet again.

Most of the other guests are reserved and fairly formal. I guess we are the obnoxious Americans, because our table is filled with stories and laughter all night, and the bright red of the shukas is certainly hard to miss. The staff loves it though, and most come by to chat at some point that evening.

As we’re headed back to the tent, a break in the clouds catches Anita in the light of the full moon. It doesn’t stay out for long, but for a brief moment we are graced with her silvery presence.

Tomorrow, we go home…

Photos: The Tanzania welcome sign at the border. Help! Sunset over a kopje. Dressed for dinner in shukas.

Safari Part 6a

September 3, 2009 (Serengeti Day 3)

This is our last full day on the Serengeti. We’ve already seen lions hunting, cheetahs hunting, elephants charging, and all kinds of birds, gazelles, warthogs, hippos and zebra. So everything now feels like icing on the cake (and the really good kind of icing—you know, with the cream cheesy goodness preferably on carrot cake, mmm…).

Mike decides that instead of going back into the heart of the Serengeti, where we’ve been the past two days, that we should head north, toward the Kenyan border.

Here the land changes. It is hillier and greener. More trees dot the landscape, as do more grazers. It is here we will see our first eland. The animals up here are more human shy, harder to spot and quicker to run. In Tanzania, the Serengeti is a protected national park with no hunting allowed. In Kenya, right over the border, it runs into Maasai Mara, a game preserve, where legal big game hunting is very big money. The animals up here therefore associate humans with guns, they don’t stick around.

But it is a nice change of scenery for us.

Mike spots two bat-eared fox early in the day. These guys are rarely seen as they’re nocturnal and extremely shy. As we drive up they immediately retreat into their den. They’re funny looking critters, with their squashed face and huge ears.

We see many more impala, hartebeest, and zebra. And the cool day is perfect for hanging our heads over the top of the Land Rover, hair blowing in the breeze.


To be Continued...


Photos: Bat-eared fox. Hartebeest. Zebra.

Safari Part 5c

September 2, 2009 (Serengeti Day 2)

Continued...

In the late afternoon we see yet another leopard, this one with a young Thompson Gazelle in the crook of the tree. We see a number of other lions, giraffes, and countless zebra and gazelles. And as we coming around the last corner on our way home, Mike spots a Serval Cat. These are a medium sized African wild cat with marking similar to a cheetah. They’re very secretive and harder to spot even than the elusive leopard. He stalks off quickly into the grass but it was a privilege to even see one.

We return to camp where we finally see our camp’s namesake. We are staying at the Mbuzi Mawe Tented Camp. An mbuzi mawe is a small mountain goat. They look fairly similar to a dikdik and I’ve been wanting to see one. As we round the corner by our tent there are two just hanging out on a rock, almost as if they’ve been posed. They are beautiful.

As we’re getting ready for dinner, I realize I’m running out of clean clothes. So I decide to turn my shuka into a dress. It worked out fairly well, and as we head in for dinner, the staff gave me a lot of compliments. There was an African dance performance that night, and of course I was dragged up to dance with them because of how I was dressed. I did my mzungu best and we headed off to dinner and yet another evening where the four of us were the last to leave the restaurant.

Tomorrow is our last full day on the Serengeti.

Photos: Male Impala. Giraffe. Mbuzi Mawe. Me dancing in my shuka dress.

Safari Part 5b

September 2, 2009 (Serengeti Day 2)

Continued...

Mike continues on into savannah country, still determined to find cheetah today. As we’re driving along, he suddenly hits the brakes. Sitting in the shade of a low-lying acacia are four cheetahs. Ask and ye shall be given.

We stay and watch them for a while, but they seem to be content to just sit in the cool shade to wait out the heat of the day. So we press on.

We see two more leopards. Both in trees, of course, and both hidden. We have lunch by one of those trees hoping one will decided to move if we wait, but our hope is in vain. So we head back to check on our cheetahs.

They are all still sitting in the shade, and appear to not be interested in moving. Mike, however, stops and just says ‘Wait.’

So we do. We’ve sat for about 15 minutes before we ask Mike if we ought to just move on. ‘No, wait, they will move soon, you will see.’ And they do. I swear this man has animal ESP, or they’re all trained circus animals. One of the two.

The four cheetahs all stand up together and start to move. We realize they’ve locked onto a female impala with a young fawn about 40 yards away. The four move like synchronized swimmers. They move out, pacing in unison, and when the female impala turns her head their way, they all, in perfect sync, drop down in a lying position. Then as one, they move again. And then they commit.

A cheetah running is truly magnificent. They move with such grace and precision. Within seconds they separate the mother from her fawn and then proceed to play with their food. They are just like a housecat with a mouse as they chase the confused fawn down. By the end they’re walking, nonchalantly. This is effortless dining for them.

We’ve now been charged by an elephant and watched cheetahs take down an impala within the space of a few hours. It’s National Geographic, live and in Technicolor. We have truly entered the Twilight Zone. This is incredible.

To be Continued...

Photos: Cheetahs under the acacia tree. Cheetah stalk. Cheetahs in unison. Cheetah at full tilt.

Safari Part 5a

September 2, 2009 (Serengeti Day 2)

We awake excited to explore the Serengeti for an entire day. Mike is making it a personal goal to see duma (cheetah) today. We have a quick breakfast, pile into the Land Rover, and immediately pop the roof. Safari has turned us all into puppies in the car. We always want the roof up so we can stand with our heads in the breeze, hair flying, pointing out any moving animal of interest. If I had a tail it would be wagging, and I may have even had my tongue lolling out on occasion.

Immediately upon heading out we find our second chui (leopard). Of course it’s up a tree. This one is totally uninterested in us, and just wants to chill.

We move on and immediately run into a hippo, but this one is out of the water. He’s hanging out near a river, looking rather forlorn. Mike explains that he’s a male that’s been driven off by the alpha male. Between the hippo and the water there are now a family of elephants, so he seems lost and unsure and rather sad.

The elephants that surround him seem to be doing the maximum amount of damage possible to the surrounding trees. They’ve knocked down a fair number, stripping them partially before moving on to the next tree. It’s a fairly large herd and the swath of destruction is pretty wide.

We stop by a hippo pool and catch site of our first Nile crocodile, the largest in the world. They can be up to 18 feet long and are able to take full wildebeest down easily. Mike’s scariest moment as a guide relates directly to this primeval beast. He had taken a couple of F-16 pilots on safari and they’d stopped by a small pool to check out some crocodiles and had the lucky timing of watching one kill a gazelle. One of the pilots got really excited, jumped out of the Land Rover and ran over to get a better picture. He ran right to the edge of the pool.

Mike freaked out and was yelling for him to come back. He did not, however, follow. He wasn’t so worried about the crocodile currently munching a gazelle, but it had been a dry year and he knew that this particular pool often had many crocs and it was surrounded by tall grass.

Nothing happened, but he did say it was his scariest moment to date as a guide.

Shortly after we left the hippo pool, we had our scariest moment on safari. We turned a corner in the road and found a mother elephant with a very small baby maybe twenty yards away. She immediately freaked. Her ears flew out to the side and she unhesitatingly charged the Land Rover. Mike hit the gas.

We all immediately say ‘Go Back! Go Back!’

Mike looks at us like we’re crazy.

‘Go back! That was a false charge! We have to go back, the baby is so tiny and cute.’

I’d read in my obsessive Africa reading frenzy that in a false charge an elephant’s ears are out, making them look bigger and scarier. These charges are just warnings to back off and get out of the way. When it’s a real charge and they’re going for blood the ears are back against the side of their head, making them more aerodynamic.

Mike agrees with this. But it still takes begging to get him to go into reverse and return. He assures us he’s seen an elephant attack and damage a Land Rover and clearly isn’t as excited as we are by the elephant charge.

We finally make our way back and pull up alongside the mama and her baby. She turns and immediately charges again—ears out still. Mike again hits the gas. And we again make him return. By now, mama and baby have left the road, but the rest of the herd is nearby watching. We start taking a few pictures.

Mike says ‘Look, I think there’s another small baby on the ground.’

Sure enough, next to another large female, a small bundle of grey is curled on the ground. Mama has a watchful eye on us and is clearly agitated. She suddenly throws up her trunk, trumpets, and charges. Mike pulls ahead and the rest of the herd heads off.

We have just been charged three times in under 10 minutes. Awesome. Awe. Some.

To be Continued...

Photos: Male Hippo. Nile Crocodile. First charge by the Elephant. Second charging Mama Elephant. Baby hiding behind Mama.

Safari Part 4c

September 1, 2009 (Serengeti Day 1)

We enter the park, 5,000 square miles of savannah dotted by kopjes, and have lunch. We then proceed to drive into the park, and Mike swings by a few kopjes. It is mid-day, hot, and he knows the big cats like to rest in the shade of the rocks, or on top of them for better sight lines. Within thirty minutes of entering the park, Mike says ‘There, look there.’ Ahead of us are three, huge male lions, manes blowing in the breeze, sitting on top of a very large rock. You couldn’t plan this better. This is a shot from a movie or a dream. Amazing and fairly surreal.

We stop to watch. Here, unlike the Crater, it is just us. And Them. And the breeze. After a few minutes, one gets up. He comes down off the rock, and starts to check the scents on the air. He then moves straight towards us and pees on Mike’s Land Rover. We are now part of his territory.

The other two follow suit and then head over to the females in the pride. Holy mama.

Welcome to the Serengeti.

Every time I’m sure Mike can’t top the last experience. He does. Big male lions. Three of them. Big. Yeah.

We continue into the park and see countless gazelle. The Thompson Gazelle out here are in unbelievable number. Probably because they require no water beyond what they can get out the grass and the dew in the morning and haven’t been forced by the drought to higher land.

We head further in, coming to a riverbed with trees and see our first elephant out here, and many many giraffe. This is twiga country. We haven’t seen them since our drive to Kilimanjaro, but now they’re everywhere, running with an awkward grace and gentlness.

Then, our first chui (leopard). He is in his tree. It’s hot, late afternoon. And he’s clearly eaten. He is lying in what appears to be a most uncomfortable position with his huge belly protruding. Mike says this is one of the largest male leopards he’s seen.

In our time on the Serengeti, we will see 5 leopards (a lot!), and 4 of those we see in trees at a distance. Only one up close and on the ground, but he ran so quickly none of us got a good look. Elusive and beautiful, these big cats.

Then we head toward our camp. As we round the corner on our way in, we spot a dikdik. Smallest of all the gazelle. He is about the size of a mini Doberman Pinscher. Beautiful and delicate.

We pull into our lodge--the Mbuzi Mawe Tented Camp. This is technically not a lodge. The entire place is made up of semi-permanent tents. The flooring and furniture are permanent, as well as the toilet, sink and shower, but the top is definitely a canvas tent. This is definitely the best of the lodgings we have had the entire trip. The food and staff also win in our private rating system.

We settle in, have dinner, and call it a night. Tomorrow will be a full day on the Serengeti.

Photos: Big Male Lions! And a dikdik.

Safari Part 4b

September 1, 2009 (Serengeti Day 1)

Continued...

Our next stop is about halfway to the Serengeti. Oldupai Gorge.

Digression on the Oldupai Gorge:

The name normally applied to the gorge is the Olduvai Gorge. This is because the first European to discover the gorge, Wilhelm Kattwinkel, mispronounced or misheard the Maasai word oldupai (meaning wild sisal—a plant much used by the Maasai) when he asked for the name of the gorge. And people have been mispronouncing it for the last hundred years. Olduvai means nothing. Well done white man.

Kattwinkel was a German entomologist chasing a butterfly when he literally fell into the gorge. He then stumbled on some human remains that looked quite old. They were. He took them back to Germany and some years later and archeologist spotted them in a museum and started to ask questions. Excavations began in earnest.

The Oldupai Gorge is called the ‘Cradle of Mankind’. Since the 60s, when Louis and Mary Leakey started major excavations in the gorge, they have found countless tools and artifacts of early hominids, and more importantly the skeletons of Homo Habilis and Australopithecus Boisei that were living at the same area at the same time.

This was a huge discovery and the only one of its kind to date. There were two distinct hominids of differing genus co-habitating. This essentially proves the theory of evolution. Here are two different types of early man, one line that died out, Australopithecus, and one that didn’t, Homo (later becoming Homo Sapien--us).

Oldupai Gorge is also the place where they discovered footprints of a family like the famous Lucy.

End of Digression.

All in all, a pretty awesome place. We listened to an excellent lecture from someone in the park service and wandered the museum before heading on our way.

The next few hours were spent driving on a dusty, unpaved, bumpy road to the gates of the Serengeti. It is now flat (Serengeti means endless plain—an apt description) and, because of the drought, very very dry. We see herds of Maasai cattle and goats, all looking fairly emaciated, and very little green. This is the last we will see of the Maasai. Once through the gates, no people are allowed to live in or herd on the Serengeti.

This is the Africa I expected to see.

To be Continued...

Photos: Oldupai Gorge. Entrance to Serengeti National Park. A view of the endless plain. A lizard that was there to greet us at lunch.

Safari Part 4a

September 1, 2009 (Serengeti Day 1)

The morning that greets us is a foggy, cloudy, sunrisy spectacle. It’s definitely chilly as we pile into the Land Rover to head to the Serengeti. Our first stop of the morning, though, is Clemens’ village.

We stop at the Maasai market to pick Clemens up, and Mike picks up three shukas (traditional Maasai robes). He has arranged to purchase three to give to us as gifts, since he had noticed us admiring all the fabric. It is an unnecessary, generous gesture, and in this chilly morning, Anita and I immediately wrap up in them for warmth (Lisa, as usual, has more warm clothes than we do and is totally prepared for the fog). We are now glories in red, the Maasai color of choice.

Then we head to Clemens’ village.

His village is really a homestead. He has two, one for each wife, and all the people that live in each village are a part of that family. So, from what I can gather, each Maasai village is essentially one family (don’t quote me on this). By the time we arrive, most of the kids have already left for school, and only the three youngest remain. Clemens’ wife and a few warriors are there, getting the day started. We peek into a cattle enclosure, a round, fenced area, where Clemens’ wife is finishing the milking before a few warriors take them down into the Crater to graze.

He has a lot of cattle, and he knows each one by site, although they’re also branded and have ear notches for good measure.

We then see the goat enclosure, and all I can imagine is Clemens locked into it for the night to kill a leopard. There’s no quick way out if things go wrong.

Then Clemens invites us into his home. It is a traditional Maasai home, made of mud, cow dung, and branches, with a thatch roof. There is one door, no windows. And no hole in the ceiling. Ergo all the smoke from the fire is currently coming out the door. We pony up and enter anyway.

It’s dark inside, the only light is from the small fire. Our tour. There are three rooms. One for the youngest goats and cattle for protection at night. The living/cooking/fire space that doubles as Clemens’ bedroom. And a small room where his wife and kids sleep. The living room, the largest of the three, is no more than 5 x 9 feet square. And filled with smoke. Fine, I’m sure, when you’re used to it, but for the three wazungu, it’s pretty intense.

I take the bull by the horns and explain that, while I love his home, my lungs are unaccustomed to the smoke. He laughs a bit at that and we make our way back outside.

He finishes the tour with the garden enclosure. This looks exactly like a cattle enclosure. Cultivating land in the National Conservation Area is illegal, and as it isn’t a traditional part of Maasai culture, they are expected to adhere to this stricture. So Clemens cleverly farms what appeared to be corn and spinach in what looks like a cattle enclosure to any outsider.

We then purchase some jewelry that his wife has made, give a box of crayons and some candy to the two young boys there, and leave a box of pens for the older kids to take to school. We thank him for his exquisite hospitality and stories and then head off, promising to send pictures to him through Mike.

To be Continued...

Photos: Clemens' wife milking cattle. Clemens' son with crayons. Clemens' home. Anita in her shuka.

Safari Part 3c

August 31, 2009 (Ngorongoro Crater—on the inside)

Continued...

On our way back to the lodge, Mike stops to gas up the Land Rover. As we’re leaving he suddenly stops and yells. ‘Professor! Professor!’ There is a man he clearly wants us to meet. A well dressed man in his 50s pops his head in. We all say hello. He asks us where we’re from. ‘Canada and America.’ ‘Where in America?’ ‘New York and Phoenix.’

‘New York! I love New York. I lived in the states many years, working and teaching and lecturing. So much fun. Riding in the limos in New York. Oh I love America. American women—they are the best!’

At the end of this last statement, the professor puts his right index finger into his mouth (and not just the tip mind you, the whole finger) and then pulls it out in the clearest pantomime of a blow job I have ever seen.

We all sort of pause, awkwardly. What does one respond? Should I be flattered or offended? Is he expecting an offer?

Mike solves this by saying a quick good-bye and we take off. He tells us we’ve just met Tepilit Ole Saitoti, a well-respected Maasai scholar and author of a number of Maasai books (this is true, I’ve Googled him since). He has given up a career in education to return to his village and the Maasai way of life.

And that is all that is said of our run-in with the Professor. Until the last night on safari after two bottles of wine, when there is much laughter and a number of good impressions and pantomime shows of our own.

At the gate to the lodge sits another Maasai gentleman.

‘Clemens!’

Ah. The mysterious Clemens has come to join us at last. He is a Maasai warrior about 60 years old (the Maasai don’t chart age the way we do—it’s more stages, whether you are a child or an adult—it’s not about what number of years you’ve lived). He is thin, and cataracts cloud his eyes, but they twinkle with his ready laugh. We invite him back into the lodge for a beer. We all get a drink and settle down in the bar.

He proceeds to launch into a few stories—I wish I could do it justice in writing, next time I see you, ask for a Clemens story.

One story was of the leopard he killed. This was only ten years ago or so, so he’s about 50. A leopard had been taking some of their goats at night, as leopards are want to do, but one night he took a little girl from the village. The little girl was Clemens niece. The next day they found her up in the leopard’s tree (leopards are the only one of the big cats that kill for sport, not just to eat—and the only cat the Maasai fear). Clemens resolved to do something about it.

That night he slept in the goat pen where the leopard had been coming. He lay there wrapped in his shuka and armed only with his spear and knife. During the night he heard the goats get restless. He woke up and lay still but couldn’t see the leopard. Then he heard a goat scream. He sprang up. The leopard turned and came for him. He threw his shuka over the leopard's head to confuse him and then—wham—put his spear between the cat's ribs, directly in his heart.

Whether this story is entirely true, I don’t know, but it's still pretty impressive.

Clemens also told me of when he was mauled by an elephant on the road by the lodge. He was walking the road at night with two other warriors when they were set on by an elephant. The two other warriors were young, so they ran to try to draw the elephant away from Clemens. It didn’t work.

The elephant hit him once, raking his right leg from ankle to hip. The elephant hit him again, gouging his right side. This hit knocked Clemens, luckily, into a ditch. This hit also, luckily, removed his shuka. He lay under the elephant in the ditch until the elephant decided that the shuka on his tusks was enough evidence of a dead man for him to continue on his way.

Clemens spent two years in the hospital recovering, and had only been out for a year or so. He showed me his scars. It’s pretty impressive.

He also told us of killing lions, the traditionally Maasai right of passage, and how lions have come to recognize their traditional red shukas and will run upon spotting one. They also apparently recognize the scent of a Maasai and will retreat when it is on the wind. Mike bore witness to seeing that happen on a number of occasions when taking Clemens on safari.

I ask about the cheek scars—I’ve seen most Maasai with two perfect circles on each cheek. It’s given to them as children. Whenever there is an outbreak of fever among the kids the medicine man cuts the small circles on their cheeks and puts a medicine on it. So kind of like a vaccine.

He also tells us of how the Maasai tradition of removing the two lower front teeth came about. There was an outbreak of tetanus many years ago, and to save those whose jaws locked up, they would cut out the two bottom front teeth in order to feed them milk. And now, you do it because you are Maasai.

We also talk a lot of the changing of the culture in Africa and what will happen to the Maasai. They have certainly retained a lot of their culture, but as their children go off to school and the world encroaches on their herds and land, the future is uncertain. But Clemens maintains that the Maasai will always be Maasai, and that more often then not, those that leave for school, choose to return to traditional life.

His eyes twinkle and he asks me ‘You like Africa?’

‘Yes. Very much.’
‘You want to stay?’
‘Sure.’
‘Can you build a house? Carry water? Chop firewood? This is women’s work.’

Yes—some things in Maasai culture are alive and well.

We talk a lot more about the Maasai culture and his life, and receive an invitation to visit his home in the morning and meet one of his wives. We accept.

Anita leaves to send and e-mail and Lisa to clean up, and as Clemens and I are finishing our beer and discussing circumcision, Mike returns. He wants to drive Clemens home because there are elephant near the lodge gates and he doesn’t want a repeat maul.

I immediately invite myself along for the drive. Elephant, by the gate, hell yes. Sure enough there are about 10 male elephant on their way to water. We stop and hang out in the chilly night air to just watch for a while.

Then we deliver Clemens safely home, promise to see him in the morning, and head back to dinner and bed.

Tomorrow we leave for the Serengeti.

Photos: Clouds spilling over the rim of the Crater--lake below. The Crater as seen from above. Clemens.

Safari Part 3b

August 31, 2009 (Ngorongoro Crater—on the inside)

Continued...

We spot hyena. Ugly beasties.

Meet the Cape Buffalo. A rather unassuming looking cow really. But apparently the meanest of the animals in Africa, and the one that nobody wants to go up against. More feared and deadly than any of the carnivores. The second most deadly to man, the hippo, is also a vegetarian. Maybe if someone just bought them all a burger they wouldn’t be so grumpy.

Then we head to a hippo pool. No hippo sex today. Mostly just hippos lying about.

But we spot our first cheetah off in the distance harassing the same line of wildebeest as the lions were. We will see this cheetah up close later in the afternoon, and Mike tells us he’s heard from the rangers that he is injured. He certainly didn’t look healthy, and a number of hyena were parked further off, clearly just waiting. Rather heartbreaking really.

I also see my first crowned crane, one of the prettiest birds I think we’ll spot out here.

We’re also introduced to the Cori Bustard, one of the largest game birds in Africa. A pretty bird, with gorgeous neck feathers that they puff out in mating rituals. Apparently very good to eat, and Mike says they’re an Arabic delicacy. The birds run about $2,000 a piece. An expensive turkey dinner that.

As we stop for lunch at the hippo pool, Mike gives us a brief rundown of Tanzanian history. Very short version here: Was first a German colony, but after WWII went down and the Germans got destroyed in Europe, it was transferred to Britain (hence Mike’s Scottish father). Was a British colony until 1968 when Britain finally gave up trying to colonize the world. Granted independence. Tanzania’s first President somehow (though Mike never did fully explain how) made a system where all 120 tribes in Tanzania get along and lived peacefully. As a result, it’s been a relatively stable and prosperous country since. Most of its economy now comes through tourism.

As we set off in the afternoon, a zebra lumbers across in front of us. Mike stops. ‘Look at this one, she’s very pregnant.'

She certainly has a large girth, and we obliging start to snap a few pictures. The zebra stops beside the car, as though she’s heard us, poses, and proceed to stick out “her” willy. This is not a pregnant female after all, more like a beer-gutted Fabio. He poses with a daintily cocked hoof (pun intended) and proceeds to show off his fabulous manhood until we drive away. Mike is mightily embarrassed for having misidentified this zebra and we are mightily amused by the zebra’s antics.

We see a few male elephant (although none putting on an obliging display) and a number of other lion, but nothing to top the morning’s excitement. And we never do see the elusive rhino. Mike thinks he saw one far out on a plain. And we all looked through the binoculars, but I couldn’t indentify it as something more than big and dark.

After a beautiful day in the Crater, we head out at dusk.

To be Continued....

Photos: Baby zebra. Ostrich. Cape Buffalo. The pregnant zebra.