My long-time dream of an African safari became a reality with a last-minute flight to Nairobi, just before a two-week Christmas break. I had a demanding job in Mumbai and didn’t have time to plan, so I relied on my trusty guidebook to lead me to the best budget options once I arrived.
Even though I was taking a two-week trip from a full-time job, I kept my budget tight. Perhaps out of habit or preference, I find more enjoyment in spending the night in a campsite with little obstruction between me, the locals, and the wilderness rather than being trapped in a golden prison with more pampering than a low-maintenance person can handle.
After booking my tour, a guide and driver picked me and my three tour companions up from our respective hostels in Nairobi. We headed in the direction of Nakuru National Park, where we would spend the night in a charming hotel before heading to the Flamingo Lake and the Baboon Cliff.
The lake itself is bordered by a wide plain of dark grey argyle, where zebras, buffaloes, and some rhinos can be seen roaming among safari vans and private vehicles alike. Before the end of the day, we headed to the main attraction, the Mara reserve, where we would spend the second night camping.
Encountering massive yet familiar wild animals in their natural habitats was a truly astonishing experience. Nothing else matters much when you are at arm’s length of a herd of elephants, going about their daily routine in the open, with complete indifference to the tourist vans that swarm around them like a persistent daily annoyance.
Despite the breathtaking sights, I couldn’t shake a nagging unease that gradually crept in, leaving me with a lukewarm memory of my safari. It was as though I had become a pawn in a thrill-seeking industry, a frantic, profit-driven race to chase wildlife, which eclipsed the serene marvels of the Earth’s cradle. While not surprising, this aspect of the travel industry tarnishes many bucket-list destinations, to the detriment of ethical considerations and genuine contemplation. I’m aware of this reality of travel, and am willing to temporarily drop my high-standard principles when I voluntarily decide to seize an opportunity for an easily attainable lifetime memory.
I had longed to camp in the wilderness alongside the Maasai people, with wildlife somewhere in the distance. My hope was to relive the otherworldly night I experienced while sleeping on a sand dune in the Thar desert of Rajasthan. The memory of that night stayed with me – the tranquil presence of my camel and guide nearby, the invisible vault of the sky and distant stars as my only roof, and the pungent smell of the camel blanket regulating my temperature and grounding me against the soft sand.
However, upon our arrival at the savannah camping ground, after a full day of wildlife watching, my tour companions and I couldn’t shake the feeling that the atmosphere was somewhat wrong. It might have been the result of too many people confined to a small area, or perhaps it was the muddy ground marbled with puddles that marbled the ground after a rainfall. The persistent tension planning from the working staff in a hurry to get the job done added to our discomfort.
The highlights of my trip was ultimately overshadowed by my brief visit to Uganda, a neighboring country often overlooked. This small, landlocked nation reignited my passion for discovering the peculiar experiences hiding in less conventional places, rather than pursuing sought-after trips that often fall short of the idealized versions we imagine during daydreams.
As our van was heading out of the park after another day of sight hunting, something extraordinary happened. Out of nowhere and without warning, a cheetah with playful cubs decided to rest beside the road in front of our vehicle. The cubs played carelessly and tirelessly in the tire tracks, while mother reclined in the grass, seemingly unbothered by our presence. Oblivious to the enjoyment they granted us, the cubs kept on living their lives to an extent that left us unable to absorb any more of the moment.
Reluctantly, we resumed our way, feeling elated but somewhat melancholic, our driver and us alike.
