In the world of safari, the Great Migration across the Masai-Serengeti ecosystem is as exciting as a Stanley Cup final.
Some of the best seats in the house are in Kenya’s Masai Mara National Reserve, part of a 25,000-square-kilometre natural habitat protected for Africa’s storied wildlife: the big cats, elephants, zebras, giraffes, hippos, antelope, buffalo, hyenas and, most of all, the wildebeest. The annual migration of approximately 1.4 million wildebeest in search of food – along with hundreds of thousands of accompanying gazelles, zebras and others – is the largest single movement of animals on Earth.
As my charter flight approaches the dirt runway, I see shaggy-faced wildebeest scattered all over the savanna, like an invasion of ants on a carrot cake. Warthogs are grunting on the runway, causing our pilot to brake hard and bounce the Cessna Caravan to a stop. Safari rangers driving Land Rovers greet us with gourmet snacks and chilled champagne. This is the wild African bush, as presented by &Beyond, a company that specializes in luxury safari adventures. Clients may sleep in tents, but these tents have four-poster beds and ensuite bathrooms.
On the drive from the landing strip, I spot giraffes, zebras, wildebeest, buffalo, antelopes and a pride of lions. I am hoping to see a kill, or at least witness a chase. Many go on safari with this sort of expectation. Typically it comes down to patience, timing and luck. During the Great Migration, however, fortune is bound to be in my favour.
The Land Rover approaches &Beyond’s Bateleur Camp, built into the forest on the edge of the savanna. Overlooking a vast plain, the camp offers luxury tent accommodation, guided safari excursions, a steady flow of cocktails and some of the best meals I’ve tasted anywhere. Large leather sofas in the lounge tent provide a comfy midday refuge to read classic National Geographic magazines from the 1960s and 70s. Dining is outdoors, set just metres from a low electrified fence keeping elephants, hippos and the occasional lion from wandering into camp. Best of all, an infinity swimming pool allows for a dip and wildlife viewing at the same time. With a limited number of guests, it doesn’t take long for Bateleur’s staff to remember our names – and our favourite cocktails, which they offer at every opportunity. Pimm’s, with ginger ale made frothy from fresh cucumber, is a perfect libation under the dry, African sun.
On the afternoon game drive, we encounter another pride of lions, lazing in the shade of an acacia tree. Just a few kilometres away, I see tall, robed figures herding cattle. According to their legends, the Masai people have lived here since the dawn of time. I ask our guide, Joseph, a member of the Masai tribe, why the lions don’t attack the Masai or their cattle. He points to the thousands of wildebeest, and the sheer abundance of food available. He jokingly refers to wildebeest as “lion takeout,” and warthog as “lion sausage.” Joseph tells us of the natural fear lions have for Masai warriors. For generations, Masai boys would come of age by killing a lion. Lions learned to fear the tribe, resulting in a peaceful co-existence. Still, visitors at Bateleur are advised to walk the camp at night only with an armed guard, and Masai villages protect themselves with a circular defence of thorny scrub.
