As we fly into Amboseli airstrip in Amboseli National Park, we catch a glimpse of Mount Kilimanjaro’s snow-capped peak as it briefly emerges from its shroud of clouds. We are now about 200 kilometers southeast of Nairobi straddling the Kenyan-Tanzanian border. Amboseli is a 400-square-kilometer sanctuary surrounding the lake from which it takes its name: a lake filled by the meltwaters from the extinct volcanic peak that transform what would otherwise be an arid wasteland into a wildlife paradise, supporting one of Africa’s largest elephant populations – a heritage that both inspires and demands protection. Nestled in the heart of Kajiado County, Amboseli is a land of contrasts. Vast, dusty plains give way to verdant swamps fed by underground springs from Kilimanjaro’s melting snows.
I first remember being captivated by this corner of Kenya reading Hemingway’s Snows Of Kilimanjaro, and despite numerous visits to Kenya over the years had not yet managed to make it here. Amboseli is like nothing I had ever seen before, with the dusty plains contrasting starkly with the shallow lakes and green vegetation brought to life by the recent rains. To say its rugged beauty and otherworldly horizons took my breath away is as understated as Hemingway himself.
“To say its rugged beauty and otherworldly horizons took my breath away is as understated as Hemingway himself.”
As our vehicle bumps along the park’s rugged tracks towards our camp at Tortilis, each turn brings a new wonder: a journey of giraffes silhouetted against the morning sun, a flock of flamingos turning a shallow pool pink and a lone bull elephant in the distance majestic against the endless skylines. The thought that these wonders could disappear forever because of greed and ignorance and that my nephews, niece and godsons may never get to see them in the wild fills me with a sadness.
The park’s elephant families, organized alphabetically with names like the AA family and the famous Echo’s EB family whose member Esau we meet later, represent one of conservation’s greatest success stories – and ongoing challenges. These magnificent creatures, particularly the rare “super tuskers” whose ivory sweeps the ground, face a deadly gauntlet when they cross into Tanzania, where hunting permits can legally be purchased for astronomical sums by the very worst of humanity. This tragic commerce threatens the very giants that Ernest Hemingway once immortalised in “The Green Hills of Africa,” describing them as “grey gleaming pyramids” moving across the plains and no matter how articulate those peddling and profiting from death put forward their case it is something that benefits none but the butchers and their reeves.
Amboseli is more than just an elephant sanctuary. It’s a complex tapestry of ecosystems where over 400 bird species paint the skies with their wings, where proud Maasai warriors still tend their cattle as they have for centuries, and where lions and hyenas conduct their ancient dance of predator and prey. The park’s name itself comes from the Maa word “empusel,” meaning salty, dusty place – a testament to the ancient dried lake bed that gives the region its distinctive character.
Our temporary home for Christmas was Tortilis Camp: an idyllic tented camp with views of the mountains across the rolling hills and vast plains of Amboseli. The neighbouring waterhole meant that we could watch elephant at all hours from the bar and main lodge at the top of the hill and delight in troops of baboons playing in the water. There is something quite surreal in watching baboons running up and bombing into the waters splashing their companions before rushing round to do it again. Fun at the local swimming pool, it seems, is not just a human pastime.
On our first evening game drive we came across a female cheetah with four adolescent cubs. This encounter immediately brought back memories for Buffy and me of meeting the famous cheetah Malaika in the Maasai Mara on our honeymoon ten years prior. For a mother to raise four cubs successfully to almost adulthood is a feat of maternal instinct that is quite simply awe-inspiring and I hope my companions understood how lucky we were to see that in the wild. Sadly for the cheetah family a pair of Crested Cranes decided to sound the alarm spooking the gazelle the cheetah had their eye on and moving them too far away for a successful hunt.
We were joined by David, an old friend of Andrew’s, the head of a local Maasai village. He accompanied us on game drives and inevitably would spot wildlife before any of us. They had an interesting relationship that felt like a mixture of siblings and a found family: it is difficult to describe but it seemed that they were just comfortable in each other’s company and the few words spoken were all that was necessary. I have seen other friends talk for hours at a time yet not seem as close as them. I wondered how that connection came to be but did not feel it was my place to ask them.
We were invited to meet his family and visit his village and, despite reservations around imposing ourselves or being “that kind of tourist”, we took the invitation in the good faith it was intended and spent a wonderful morning meeting his wives, family and newborn child, We were privileged to get an unvarnished view of how he and his people lived. The only thing we understood without any doubt was that they were all deeply and honestly happy. The feeling that we could learn an awful lot from them was inescapable along with a nagging suspicion that they knew something fundamental that we yet didn’t. Despite the technological marvels of our home perhaps we lack the simplicity of basic human connections. For some reason I was reminded of Tolkien’s description of The Shire and of hobbit life. So much so that I had Ian Holm’s voice delivering his wonderful prose in my head that evening.
It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life.
J.R.R. Tolkien
We rounded off our visit at their local market, many of us buying gifts for friends and family back home. Buffy and I bought several animal carvings to add to our collection at home, something that never ceases to give us pleasure and remind us of our time in this incredible part of the world.
I have decided not to publish any other photos of his family but I don’t think I have ever seen such unbridled joy and fun as I did in the children who Robin effortlessly made friends with. The laughter and exuberance as we introduced them to “exploding fist bumps” which made their faces light up is one of my favourite moments from our trip.
Stuart took several black and white portraits of the children and managed to capture the essence of each of them; from the mischievous imp to the bashful and shy and the rambunctious and bold. His eye for a portrait photo impresses me and left me a little jealous if truth be told.
Christmas was celebrated in true Kenyan style enjoying a fantastic bush breakfast on our morning drive before eating and drinking our own bodyweight in food and wine back at camp. Entertainment provided by the local Maasai with the assistance of our very own Robin Callaway rounded off a perfect day.
We left Tortilis with a heavy heart – the staff and hosts were so welcoming and the hospitality to die for. I think we could have stayed for a year without once getting tired of the beauty that surrounded us.
As we made the drive back to the airstrip we were joined by literally hundreds of elephant, their columns stretching as far as the eye could see surrounded by the inevitable flocks of egrets. We stopped and watched them move around us, their size and presence matched only by their grace and silence. One of my companions worrying about our flight voiced their concern that the plane to Naboisho might not wait for us. Enthralled by the behemoths around me I replied rather more succinctly than he expected.
“It’ll wait. It’s our fucking plane.”
It waited.
Deano's World 