Our final night in Kenya brings us to the whimsical world of Giraffe Manor. Here, Rothschild’s giraffes bend their elegant necks through windows to join us for breakfast, their gentle eyes and long lashes creating moments that seem almost too magical to be real.
Buffy and I had been here before. We spent Christmas in this wonderful hotel on our honeymoon in 2014 when, sadly, I had been laid low by a 24hr bug. This time, we arrived on December 30th with Stu and Sophie, having said goodbye to Rob and Katie when we landed at Wilson airport from Naboisho.
The drive through Nairobi was a sensory jolt after days in the wilderness—honking horns, colorful markets, and the bustling energy of city life highlighting just how dramatically our environment had changed. All our senses were on high alert as we navigated through the capital’s vibrant chaos.
We were greeted at the manor with afternoon tea on the veranda, complete with champagne—the perfect welcome as we watched Rothschild giraffes roam the grounds alongside warthogs who seemed oblivious to our presence. The manor’s colonial grandeur provides a fitting finale to our journey—a place where wild Africa meets graceful civilization.
We stayed in the original manor house in Betty’s room, with its art deco bath featuring a lion’s mouth for the tap—a detail that delighted Buffy, who immediately indulged in a luxurious soak. Stu and Sophie were just down the hall in Jock’s room. The historic elegance of these spaces transported us to another era.
The ladies couldn’t resist photos on the manor’s famous swing, with Buffy and Sophie taking turns posing as the afternoon light turned golden. We all ventured outside to feed the giraffes, capturing those intimate moments of connection with these gentle giants. More champagne flowed as the sun began to set.
Dinner was served outside under the stars—the food was incredible, a gourmet farewell to Kenyan cuisine. We couldn’t help but notice a group of Russian women meticulously documenting every moment for Instagram. Each to their own, but not quite our approach to experiencing such a special place. I, of course, made friends with the resident cat just as I had during our previous stay. Some things will never change..
Morning brought the iconic Giraffe Manor experience—breakfast inside the dining room as giraffes peered through windows, their long tongues delicately taking treats from our hands across the tables. We also fed them from our balcony, marveling at how their heads reached up to the second floor with such graceful ease.
As this perfect Kenyan finale came to a close, we spent our last day at The Retreat, chilling in the pool, indulging in massages, and savoring a few last sundowners before heading to Jomo Kenyatta International Airport. Our next destination: Dubai for New Year’s Eve.
This last breakfast, with giraffes peering in through the windows, served as a gentle transition back to the world we’d soon rejoin, carrying with us memories of a Kenya both wild and welcoming—from the rugged landscapes of Tsavo and Amboseli to the untamed beauty of Naboisho, and finally, to this enchanting manor where wilderness and refinement exist in perfect harmony.
The small plane that brought us from the dusty plains of Amboseli touched down on the lush green airstrip in Naboisho Conservancy on the edge of the Maasai Mara and just like that, I was transported into yet another world. As we began our drive to Naboisho Camp, the Kenyan wilderness immediately welcomed us with its wild inhabitants—a curious hyena watching from a distance, towering giraffes gracefully moving between acacia trees, dazzles of zebra creating living optical illusions across the golden savanna, and two Thompson’s gazelles engaged in a territorial dispute, their horns locked in an elegant dance of dominance.
The Naboisho Conservancy was born from a groundbreaking conservation model that balanced ecological preservation with community empowerment. Established in 2010, the conservancy emerged through a unique partnership between over 500 Maasai landowners who pooled their land parcels to create this 50,000-acre wildlife sanctuary. Rather than selling their ancestral lands to outside developers, these landowners opted for lease agreements with tourism operators, creating sustainable income while maintaining their traditional connection to the land. This innovative approach allowed the once overgrazed cattle ranching area to regenerate its natural ecosystem, creating a vital wildlife corridor adjacent to the Maasai Mara National Reserve while ensuring economic benefits flow directly to local communities through employment, education initiatives, and conservation fees.
Our first evening game drive delivered encounters that would have made any wildlife enthusiast weak at the knees. We stumbled upon a group of adolescent male lions, their manes not yet fully developed, learning a harsh lesson in savanna hierarchy as they were unceremoniously chased off by a protective herd of buffalo. The balance of power in the wild is ever-shifting, and we had witnessed a moment where the young predators were reminded of their place.
As the golden hour cast its magical light across the landscape, we experienced what would become one of the highlights of the trip—a female leopard moving silently from thicket to thicket with her adolescent daughter. The younger cat was learning the skills she would need to survive, mirroring her mother’s movements with a mixture of playfulness and precision. We sat in awed silence, privileged witnesses to this intimate family moment.
The second morning began with a spectacle of aerial combat that left us breathless. Two eagle owls, talons clutching fresh prey, found themselves under attack from three determined eagles. The battle played out above us—wings beating frantically, fierce calls piercing the morning air—until the owls, overwhelmed by the larger predators, abandoned their catch and fled for their lives with the eagles in hot pursuit. Nature’s theater had opened its curtains for the day, and we were the sole audience.
As the day progressed, we encountered rafts of hippos submerged in muddy waters, their eyes and nostrils creating rippling patterns on the surface. Nearby, a pair of crocodiles basked motionless on the riverbank, prehistoric survivors playing the long game. The vibrant colors of bee-eaters flashed as they darted after insects, their beauty a stark contrast to the intensity of the lions we spotted later, the graceful silhouettes of giraffe against the horizon, and a lone hyena trotting purposefully with a wildebeest leg clamped firmly in its powerful jaws—a reminder of last night’s unseen drama.
The evening brought us to a hyena den where cubs tumbled and played under their mother’s watchful eye, challenging our preconceptions about these complex and intelligent creatures. As the sun began its descent, we found ourselves witnesses to one of nature’s most intimate rituals—a mating pair of lions calling to each other across the golden grass, their deep rumbles vibrating through the vehicle and into our bones. Their eyes, turned amber in the fading light, seemed to hold secrets as ancient as the savanna itself.
Our third day began with the quintessential African sunrise—the sky painted in impossible shades of orange and pink as we came upon a pride of lions sprawled by a track near their favourite thicket, their bodies stretched languidly across the warming earth. Secretary birds stalked through the grass on impossibly long legs, their formal appearance at odds with their deadly efficiency as snake hunters.
Nearby, zebras created clouds of dust as they rolled and twisted in communal dust baths, their black and white patterns temporarily muted by the ochre soil. Giraffes stretched their necks toward the highest branches, their long blue-black tongues wrapping around tender acacia leaves. Young topi pranced near their watchful parents, and wildebeest herds moved in unison across the plains. Elephants appeared as if conjured from the landscape itself, moving with surprising silence for creatures of such magnitude.
This morning drive with Andy—just Buffy and me—created a sense of intimacy with the wilderness that would become one of my most treasured memories.
The evening reunited our group of six, the shared experiences of the past days having forged connections that felt oddly timeless. We followed a coalition of lions as they patrolled the edge of a dense thicket, their movements purposeful and coordinated. As darkness approached, our guides surprised us with a mobile bar set up in a clearing, sundowner drinks in hand as the African sky performed its nightly transformation. The moment called for celebration, and soon we were taking jumping photos against the blazing sunset backdrop—our silhouettes suspended in air, capturing the pure joy that comes from being in a place so wild and beautiful.
On our last morning, the drive to the airstrip delivered one final dramatic scene. A group of young male lions had successfully brought down two warthogs beneath a copse of trees. The kills had occurred directly beneath a troop of baboons, now trapped in the upper branches by the predators below. We watched, fascinated, as individual baboons assessed their chances, gathering courage before making desperate leaps and sprints to safety. Their calculated risk-taking—the momentary freeze followed by explosive movement—was a perfect metaphor for survival in this unforgiving but magnificent ecosystem.
There was something deeply personal about these final hours in the bush, as if Naboisho was sharing its last secrets with us before our departure. As our plane lifted off the airstrip, I looked down at the landscape that had given us so much in so little time. Naboisho isn’t just a destination; it’s a reminder of what this world once was and what we must strive to preserve. In this corner of Kenya, the ancient rhythm of life continues—predator and prey, birth and death, survival and adaptation—a complex tapestry of existence that both humbles and inspires. The memories of dazzling zebras, trumpet-calling elephants, and leopards in golden light will remain long after the dust of Africa has been washed from my clothes. Naboisho doesn’t just offer safari experiences; it offers transformation, perspective, and a profound connection to the wild heart that beats within us all.
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.
I was absolutely buzzing on Sunday morning as our group met early for Breakfast at the Sheraton hotel. It felt good to see Andy again. The curse of having friends around the World is that you don’t get to see them as often as you would like and the truth is I should make more effort than I do to talk to my friends more often. It was largely this feeling of being on an amazing adventure with such good people that had me grinning from ear to ear on the way to breakfast at 0630. That and I had also arranged an in person wake up call for Robin at 0545 to ensure he wouldn’t be late for breakfast. He was still late of course, but still worth it.
The drive from Nairobi to Tsavo was largely uneventful despite us taking a slightly circuitous route to avoid traffic delays in Nairobi and on the main Mombasa road. It was good to be back in rural Kenya after a few days in Nairobi and I was happy just to let the passing towns and villages wash over me with their familiar billboard adverts for Mpesa, Safaricom and Crown Paint (‘If you love it. Crown it!’) flashing past raising a touch of nostalgia. The heat built fast as we dropped down from the rift valley heading towards the lower savannah of Tsavo and the cash crops of pineapple, coffee, tea took over the fields at the sides of the road. A brief stop at an army checkpoint slows us slightly but eventually we turn off the metaled roads, through the park gate into Tsavo and onto the red dirt roads I remembered.
“Nothing but breathing the air of Africa, and actually walking through it, can communicate the indescribable sensations”.
William Burchell
I was excited about finally getting to visit the Ithumba Reintegration Unit: the next stage on from the Sheldrick Orphanage in reintegrating orphaned elephants back into the wild and where the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust has created a masterpiece of conservation hospitality in the vastness of Tsavo East National Park. Since my first visit to the Nairobi orphanage in 2009, whilst at the Safari 7s with Shogun, I have always wanted to see the second part of an orphan’s journey back to being part of a wild elephant herd. These wins for conservation and for protecting elephants are so important to ensure the survival of the species. Poaching has dramatically reduced in Kenya but the effects of Human Wildlife Conflict are still all too real and so the work done by the Sheldrick family and their teams of dedicated staff are just as important as ever.
We arrive at Ithumba Camp and it blows us away. The beautiful simplicity belying the luxury it conceals. There are only four tents dotted around the communal lodge and pool area and linked by wooden treetop walkways. It is paradise and we begin to understand what we have in store on this incredible safari.
Ancient baobabs stand sentinel across the landscape, their enormous trunks resembling ancient sculptures against the ever-changing sky. From our elevated position in Ithumba Camp, the vista stretches endlessly – a tapestry of acacia, commiphora, lush greenery and golden savannah reaching toward distant purple hills. Each sunrise brings a new palette of oranges and pinks, while sunsets transform the landscape into a canvas of deep reds and golds before Venus, the evening star, heralds a night sky free of light pollution above our heads.
The night holds its own magic. Hyenas whoop in the darkness, their calls echoing faintly around Ithumba Hill, Rock Hyrax screech and wail, while for those still awake the elusive yet distinctive saw-like rasp of a leopard always sends shivers down spines. Our nightly walks from the lodge back to our tents become adventures in themselves, torch light revealing scorpions glowing like alien creatures on the walkways back to our tents. Katie’s previously undisclosed arachnophobia provides endless entertainment (and occasional chaos) as she encounters various eight-legged residents – though everyone agrees the scorpions are considerably more concerning than their spider cousins.
Days develop their own rhythm. Mornings begin with coffee and biscuits in the main lodge, watching the world wake up and come alive once again. Troops of monkeys play in the scattered trees and sneak through our accommodation while iridescent starlings swoop between branches. Delicate Dik-Diks tiptoe through the undergrowth becoming an almost ever present to our World, freezing like statues at any movement, while stately Kudu browse cautiously in the distance. Families of mongoose provide endless entertainment, scampering between rocks with their characteristic curiosity.
The pool becomes our afternoon sanctuary from the Tsavo heat, with Katie and Sophie turning bean bags into boats and then racing them around in what is sure to become an Olympic-level sport. Their shrieks of laughter compete with the constant commentary of the rock Hyrax, whose calls echo across the kopje with surprising volume for such relatively small creatures. The lunches are obscene especially when accompanied by endless wine and beer: every meal somehow being better than the last.
Chef James Dennis (whose son Oscar, I discover, I know from his Kenya 7s rugby days and who is now a successful para-athlete) transforms each meal into a culinary journey. His prawn curry becomes legendary among our group, while the tiramisu draws declarations of being “the best ever tasted in Kenya.” Each meal feels like a celebration, made more special by the spectacular dining room views across the park.
The food was incredible and I cannot recommend James and his team highly enough! If you don’t trust me just ask the cheeky Genet and its family who made a habit of breaking in to steal biscuits, cakes and the exceptional banana bread!
TRAVEL TIP – No matter how good the food always carry toilet paper, Imodium instants and electrolyte powder. I can also tell you that if you think you have used the worst toilet in the World: you haven’t. I can also tell you squatting over a hole in the floor in the pitch black doing an impersonation of an upside down chocolate fountain trying not to get any on you is a bizarrely welcome lesson in humility and a reminder that the World is just one bad day and a power cut away from the stone age.
Our trip with the orphan herd to the water hole was a real highlight. Young bulls practise their sparring while matriarchs keep watchful eyes on playful calves. After their bath the elephants roll in the piles of red Tsavo earth to coat themselves as protection against the sun. The afternoon light catches the red Tsavo dust coating their hides, creating an otherworldly glow around these magnificent creatures. Watching them you forget, for a moment, that these are all still young elephant and that they will get much bigger. To be this close to them, to interact with them in this way, is a huge privilege that should not be taken lightly. The keepers’ control is remarkable. A trust, built over years of time spent with the elephants as orphans that, as we witness time and again, remains even when they return to visit the integration unit as wild elephants.
The massive Tsavo bull elephant approaches deliberately down the ochre road, his tusks gleaming in the late afternoon light. We’re silent, motionless, as we watch his approach from the vehicle the only sound the whirring of my camera shutter as I capture his morning stroll. I’ve not often seen a bigger bull elephant; maybe in Lewa in the North of Kenya or in Botswana in southern Africa but in any case this one is huge. He is something to behold, majestic and noble and ancient. A throw back to when great beasts thronged these lands, to before humans polluted them with progress and civilisation. His ears are tattered from living among the Tsavo bush notorious for its thorns and barbs but the rest of him is in great condition.
My companions are surprised at how quiet he is; a five ton ninja gently making his way towards us so silently that we wouldn’t have heard him if he had passed us in the bush rather than walking down the road. He gets to within about thirty meters of us and finally notices us again, issuing us a little challenge just to remind us, as if we needed it, that he was there. He came forward another ten meters or so before quietly yielding the road to us and disappearing into the bush leaving us momentarily speechless at what we had seen before we all finally remember to breath out.
A false charge to keep us on our toes.
As the sun sets on our final evening, painting the sky in impossible colors, we reflect on the privilege of experiencing this place. It isn’t just another one of the many safari camps in Kenya – it’s a window into one of Africa’s most successful conservation stories. The story that started with David and Daphne Sheldrick and that became their family legacy is a triumphant fanfare to compassionate conservation. For us lucky few sat in the beautiful camp on the side of Ithumba Hill the morning chorus of birds, the midnight calls of predators, the constant comedy of monkeys, Genet and mongoose, and the majestic presence of elephants combine to create something truly magical that we will never forget. We sat and drank and watched the sky turn black as ink and it was all just as it should be. In Africa, sometimes things are exactly right. This was one of those times.
Those conservation success stories continue to astound us as on our final morning visit to the integration center, before heading to the airstrip, a wild elephant herd arrives with former orphans integrated into their ranks. Watching these ex-orphans moving confidently with their wild family members demonstrates the Trust’s remarkable achievement. Incredibly one of the former orphans has brought her own calf with her to meet the Sheldrick wardens: to introduce it to its extended family. I’m not going to lie. I walked away because someone close by was cutting up bags of onions.
Learning that Kauro, the elephant Buffy and I adopted in 2014, has fully transitioned to life with a wild herd fills us with particular pride. Each success story represents years of dedication from the Trust’s teams and ensures the ongoing survival of a keystone species. We were privileged to witness the full circle of rescue, rehabilitation, release and return. This corner of Kenya holds such a special place in conservation history. It’s where wilderness luxury meets purpose, where every stay helps write the next chapter in the story of Tsavo’s elephants and ensures that they will still be there long after we are gone. It also emphasises the power and value that safari tourism can bring and dismisses yet again the fallacy that hunting has any place in modern conservation.
The familiar warmth (and by warmth I mean torrential big fat rain drops that sends evening traffic in Nairobi into meltdown) of Nairobi welcomed me back as my wife Buffy and I landed at Jomo Kenyatta late on Thursday the 19th December. The sounds, sights and smells quickly wrap me up in memories of past adventures and invite the promise of new ones to come. This visit feels especially poignant – it marks ten years since Buffy and I spent our honeymoon here, guided by my old university friend Andrew “Cappy” Campbell. After a fairly horrific year, starting with Buffy suffering a Sub Arachnoid brain haemorrhage, it is great to be back in such a wonderful place with the time and space to decompress.
Tomorrow brings one of my favorite Nairobi traditions – a visit to the Sheldrick Wildlife Trust’s elephant orphanage. After that, the evening promises to be filled with laughter and stories, catching up with my Kenya-based Shogun rugby family, along with some old Royal Navy friends over drinks and dinner. These reunions always remind me why I feel so at home in Kenya and why friendships are so important now more than ever.
The real adventure begins on the 21st when we’ll gather at the Sheraton to meet our full safari party – Stuart and Sophie Kidd (our wonderful neighbours from Oxted who’ve become such good friends; largely because they know where all the bodies are buried and enable our red wine habit) and Robin Callaway (who was with me on the Everest Rugby Challenge back in 2019) with his daughter Katy. There’s something magical about sharing Kenya with people you care about, watching their eyes light up as they discover the wonders that made you fall in love with this place. I am hugely looking forward to seeing their reactions as we explore the landscapes of the incredible Kenyan National Parks of Tsavo, Amboseli and the Masai Mara and meet the incredible wildlife that live there: up close and personal.
Our friend Cappy, a multi-generation Kenyan safari guide, has woven his magic once again, crafting an anniversary journey that began to unfold today. There’s something deeply reassuring about having a friend who knows every hidden gem of this magnificent country, whose family history is intertwined with Kenya’s wild spaces. This isn’t just another safari – it’s a celebration of ten years of marriage, of friendships that span continents, and of the timeless appeal of Kenya’s wilderness. As I settle into my first night back in Nairobi, I can feel the familiar excitement building. Tomorrow, the journey truly begins.
“THERE IS SOMETHING ABOUT SAFARI LIFE THAT MAKES YOU FORGET ALL YOUR SORROWS AND FEEL AS IF YOU HAD DRUNK HALF A BOTTLE OF CHAMPAGNE — BUBBLING OVER WITH HEARTFELT GRATITUDE FOR BEING ALIVE.” Karen Blixen
Special thanks to Kelvin (Tradewinds), Anthony (AC Safaris), Charles (Tessen) and Shirley (Sheldrick Wildlife Trust) for making our arrival and first few days so stress free! Big love as ever to Terry (Tessen & Shogun) who very kindly let us use his apartment in Nairobi as a base when we arrived – you are the man.
Deano's World 