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An Added Touch on Safari

© Jane Stewart-Williams

Water surges across the road ahead, but to my untrained eye, it is no more flooded than many we have already crossed.

"I don't know about this one," says Muli, our driver, while changing into his rubber boots. With a slow shake of the head, and a deep breath, he heads out into the rapids. The waterfall in the middle looks a bit ominous, but I have my fingers crossed. Not only do I not want the four-hour drive back to Nairobi, but also I am quite excited about the safari that lies ahead.

While Muli ponders the water, a local minibus comes along and drives straight across the flood. Hakuna Matata as they say out here - no problem.

We are on our way, but within five hundred yards we hit another hurdle - this time it is someone else's setback. Six lads are struggling to push their safari van out of the mud. We leap out to help, and the van shoots forward spraying red-brown mud in its wake.

This is the first indication I have had that we are here in the wet-season. My guidebook had specifically said that January to March was hot and sunny in Kenya. The short rains should have been over by now.

"The rains are late," says Muli. "We have had droughts, but now we are having lots of rain, so it is good for us. But it is bad for you because you won't see so many animals" Hmmm, I notice they didn't mention this in Nairobi when we booked.

The problem is, during the rainy season the grasses are taller and there is more available drinking water. This means that you can't hover around one of the few remaining watering holes and wait for the animals to find you. Also, the predators can hide easier in the long grasses, so many of the zebra, wildebeest, and gazelle leave the park seeking shorter grass.

But we are optimistic on our first day, thinking that at least we are going to have a few stuck-in-the-mud adventures if nothing else. But, before we even enter the park, a hyena crosses the path ahead of us, and baboons fight by the side of the road. Inside, the animals become more numerous. Impala, waterbuck and marabou storks all mingle together announcing the unity of nature. A million butterflies rise up off the road ahead, painting the sky a delicate white, and everywhere I look, a different coloured bird is flying, peaking out of a tree, or walking along the roadside. At this time of year the park is an ornithologist's Eden. I feel like I am in heaven, standing in the van letting the sun burn my face, and the wind rush past my ears.

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