After the trek to the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro, our group decompressed in our hotel in the town of Arusha with the most welcome shower in my life. The next morning’s early wake-up call was designed to get us to the tiny Arusha airport in order to board a small airplane that took us deep into the Serengeti plain. This portion of the trip, a three day safari in the Serengeti, felt like a bonanza-sized prize for completing the Kilimanjaro climb.
As soon as we landed, our group then divided to board two large jeeps, each manned by a driver/guide. These jeeps had passenger seats at a level higher than the driver. The roof was lifted up on supports, and we were given permission to stand on the seats, affording a 360 degree spectacular view. With a free range of this portion of the jeep, we were constantly changing postings, hopping across the aisle to the other side to see that particular view. I found myself smiling and laughing in delight just riding in this vehicle, standing up, wind whipping my hair, inhaling pure unspoiled natural air.
We began to sight wild animals as soon as we left the airport parking lot. A small herd of Thompson gazelles bounded along the ridge of a small rise. A lone baboon sat in the grasses and watched our jeeps pass by.
We soon learned that when our driver was on his walkie-talkie, it meant that he was talking with other guides about animals they had spotted and their location. That communication soon brought us to a tree standing alone in the savannah. Our guide called it a sausage tree, and truly, the large seed pods that hung from its branches looked like huge bratwursts curing in the open air. Is this what we were supposed to be looking at? There were five more jeeps there, and we learned another safari lesson—where are the other passengers pointing their binoculars? A lioness was lounging in the lowest crook of the tree, her body mostly hidden, her head resting on crossed paws. We watched as she shifted positions until her tail hung straight as a plumb line down the trunk. I was mesmerized. Then our guide pointed higher in the tree to another lioness, draped gracelessly over several branches, her belly inelegantly hanging between two of them. Evidently, they had just had a successful hunt and luncheon and were now in full digestion mode.
Later that day, we came upon a pair of lions, one male and one female. Each individual seemed unaware of their mate, choosing to lie in the deep grass several feet from each other. As we watched, the lionesses stood up languidly, stretched one hind leg then the other, just like a house cat, then meandered to her regal mate as if to say, “Hey, good looking! What do you think? Ready for some action?” He obliged by standing up, mounting her, and doing the deed for a total of ten seconds. Then it was over.
As if those encounters were not enough, the next day we came upon four different groups of lionesses and their cubs lying in the shade of a tree. There was also a lone male lion with a full mane that ruffled in the breeze. He looked at us as if to say, “Yes, you are in my kingdom. I will allow it.” Then he looked away, uninterested. We even saw a maneless male with his mate.
I feel like this is a report, “What I Saw in Africa.” I’m finding it hard to put into words the emotions I felt when in the company of these lions. I was in awe of their beauty, their utter comfort in their surroundings, and their disinterest in us humans. What a privilege to be allowed into their world as mere observers.