Into The Bush On Safari

 

The Enduimet Wildlife Area, a sprawling reserve along the Tanzania/Kenya border.

It was one of those things -- the driver/guide told me not to get out of the Land Cruiser.  I repeat, not.  Only it was too late.  I was already launching myself out, brushing aside his outstretched arm, hot to get a photo of some elephants about a hundred yards off.  About the time I reached the front of the vehicle, I saw why the warning...

A large bull let loose with a scream that'd make your blood curdle and came charging straight at me, ears flapping wildly.  Believe me, I was back inside quicker than I got out!   As soon as the bull determined that I was no longer a threat, evidently to a calf in his group, he rejoined the others as they moved on away.  

In the photo below, taken from the safety of the Land Cruiser, that's the bull bringing up the rear.  Note the calf with mother to the left of the group.

When we saw three lions together later on, I had learned my lesson and stayed put, never left the vehicle.  I didn't get a photo, but didn't become an item on their lunch menu either.

We observed lots of wildlife -- giraffes, zebras, ostriches, wildebeest, cape buffalo, and more.  But the landscape northwest of Mt. Kilimanjaro was worth the expedition unto itself, with so many stunning features and sweeping panoramas.  It's a haunting place, otherworldly even, and tends to put one into an altered mental state.

That's Mt. Kilimanjaro in the distance, hidden by clouds.

Wildebeest and Tompson's Gazelle ("Tommys")

At the end of the long dry season, the land was browned and parched.  You could zero onto wildlife simply by glassing for clouds of dust -- the elephants snorting it from their trunks onto themselves, the wildebeest and impalas rolling around in it en masse.

A big bruiser.  He was getting a little too close, so we skedaddled.

Bush camp.

We even had our own chef along -- Walter presenting his squash soup.

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We did campfires at night under a wondrous canopy of stars.  In fact, the nights were as interesting as the days.  Imagine snuggling into your tent with the wind wooing among the trees and the he-he-he-ing sound of hyenas in the distance (one of the creepiest things you'll ever want to hear).

Not to mention the lions...yes, lions, which jolted me awake and upright once about 02:00.  Nothing quite like it -- the king of beasts roaring off somewhere in the darkness, and nothing between you and him except a thin layer of nylon.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep so well the rest of that particular night.

Your humble correspondent, with impala horns found in the bush.

It's also the land of the Maasai.  TPs as they call them here, Tribal Peoples.  They raise and practically exist off of cattle; consuming their meat, milk and blood.  (Yes, they slice open the livestock, collect and drink the  blood.)

One of them, a warrior with a spear, kept watch at the campfire all night to ward off predators.  Supposedly the Maasai can take care of them with that, a short spear, about five feet long, and have been doing so for centuries.

The Maasai measure wealth by numbers of cattle.  Their real bigees have their own living compounds and numbers of wives...two, three, four...each with her own hutch or house.  She has to build the living quarters herself, by the way.  As well as raise her own brood of kids.

Maasai women and children.

A Maasai with traditional dress and stick.

Maasai sandals, fashioned out of old motorcycle tires.

I told one of these barons about raising my own cattle back in the U.S.  His eyes flashed with interest.  "You have any here?  Can I see them?  I can offer trade of wife."  I thanked him for the kind offer and made back to the safety of the Land Cruiser.

Actually it was time to leave.  Not only leave the land of the Maasai, but Tanzania itself.  Back to the land of contested elections and Covid spikes and god knows what else.  For the last few weeks though, what an escape it all was, to equatorial Africa

Coming back, I wasn't allowed to board until I got a Covid test.

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Postscript:  The Strange Case Of The Africa Souvenir...

In June of 2020, a good four months before I left for Africa, I was browsing the Salvation Army Thrift Store in Binghamton, NY, and noticed a finger bowl on a shelf covered with knick-knacks.  "Noticed" is not quite the correct word here because the bowl seemed to shine out at me, beckon to me even.  I tried to walk away once or twice only to be drawn back to pick it up.  Only 49 cents, I figured, what the heck.  As it turned out, considering my experiences to come with elephants, it was the perfect memento.

   

The souvenir I got before I even left!

END

Spice Island

The fast ferry from mainland Tanzania to Zanzibar, the "Spice Island." 

A hearty "jambo," as they say in Swahili.  It means "hi" or "hello."  This simple greeting has been the beginning of many a conversation with locals and internationals alike here in Stone Town, the bustling main city on Zanzibar Island.

Located off the coast of East Africa, below the equator.

Stone Town harbor, Zanzibar Island.

Walkway along the harbor -- a pleasant place to stroll.

As far as beaches, Zanzibar has some real beauties.  But I tend to prefer ports with vessels coming and going, lighthouses, fish markets, restaurants, trade houses, and the like.  And Stone Town is a good example of why (goes back to my days in the sea service).

The city center is a labyrinth of alleyways, odd markets and darting motor bikes -- much of it suitable for a chase scene in a Bond or a Bourne movie.  It's a mix of African, Indian, and Arab cultures, with influences from all melded into the cuisine.  Crumbling coral walls are accented by carved wooden doors with brass studs.  Walk the winding streets and the place emanates of the exotic.

Typical street in Stone Town.

Known for its ornate doors.

Not much happening during the mid-day heat.

And the smells -- the place is a veritable feast for the senses.  It's known as the Spice Island and they influence much of life here.  My hotel was called the Spice Palace (see photo below).  I ate at various spice-themed restaurants, browsed spice stalls and shops, etc.  In addition, almost all tourists visit a spice farm, and I did as well.

One steamy morning, a guide led me through an upland plantation, pausing at different groves and cultivations.  He explained the planting, harvesting and uses of nutmeg, cloves, cardamon, lemon grass, vanilla and many more.  I wished that I'd had a recorder because the info was so overwhelming!

Our guide with fresh-cut nutmeg.  Whew, was it fragrant!

Another stop along the tour.

"Don't step on these," we were warned -- fire ants!

So much more that I could say about this place -- the last operating slave market in the world, for instance.  I took a tour and it opened my eyes to a lot, a lot that I had never heard in the U.S.

By the way, we're not the the only country that had election year strife.  They had an election here in Tanzania/Zanzibar last Tues., Oct. 27.  Authorities were expecting demonstrations, even riots; soldiers in red berets and carrying AK rifles were patrolling  the streets.

Tourists were rounded up, ordered into their hotels.  We were hunkered there the entire day with doors closed.  From a terrace restaurant three stories up, we watched tense situations build and then dissipate in the square down below. 

Reports are that people were shot at the north end of the island; others worked over with clubs here and there.  In the wake of this, to prevent demonstrators further organizing, the government pulled the plug on the Internet.  So that was the last real news the rest of my time there.   

My hotel -- doors were shut up and locked election day, all guests inside.

Maybe you've heard of the movie "The Year Of Living Dangerously".  Well, that was the Day Of Living Dangerously.  The next morning, like someone flicked a giant switch, things pretty much were back to normal.

(It reminded me of being in Bangkok some years ago during a coup, when the government there came under siege.  But that, as they say, is another story.)

Beach at Paje, on the east coast of Zanzibar.

More of Paje beach, Indian Ocean in the background.

Stone Town harbor at dusk.

At any rate, so much for Zanzibar Island.  On to the interior of Tanzania now to meet the famous Maasai tribe and view the tallest mountain in Africa -- Mt. Kilimanjaro.  And hopefully to view some of the wildlife so renowned in that part of Africa.

Next stop, safari country.

Covid Update:  "No Covid on the island, boss.  No Covid," as one taxi driver put it.  Whether accurate or not, it's a typical response when I inquire of locals on the subject.  I would say, after a week here, the virus just isn't of concern on Zanzibar.  At least not at present.

Following is the flag of Tanzania/Zanzibar; they're both kind of, more or less, the same country.  I love the colors...

END