A STROLL IN THE PARK- Hiking in Southern Tanzania

We are walking down a dry riverbed when a bush growls at us, a deep rumble of pure menace: not one step closer!

It is a lioness hiding in the bush, but we can’t see her, so it feels like the bush is doing the growling.  It is almost certainly the one we saw last evening, a mother with young cubs - this would explain her urgent warning.

We decide to take a wide detour around the bush…

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A bull elephant digs patiently in the riverbed, using his trunk and forefoot. When he hits water he sucks it up delicately with his trunk before squirting it into his throat.  After drinking, he throws cool, wet sand all over his back.

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Boating on Lake Tagalala, a Humblot’s Heron – the only one on the continent, we are told – takes to the air on huge wings.   

A jewel- like Malachite Kingfisher watches from a branch...

...as a Water Monitor passes by.

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We disturb a herd of buffalo on their way to water.  They turn to stare at us before wheeling and thundering away across the plain, kicking up a curtain of pale dust that glows golden in the morning light.

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We sit by a pool with over 200 hippos snoozing the hot hours away. Every so often, one lets out a resonant honking call: others join in, a deafening crescendo of sound, before settling down again.

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Game drive to Lake Manze.  On the track, several sets of paw marks: Wild Dog!  We follow for some time, before they veer off into thick bush where we can’t follow.

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An inquisitive Sand Snake lifts his head to have a good look at us as we walk by…

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Udzungwa Mountains. The forest guide beckons us over to a bush.  ‘Can you see it, there?’  We peer and crane, and suddenly there it is – an extravagantly coloured and frilled Praying Mantis, perfectly camouflaged on the delicate blossom.

Later, after dinner, we find an Udzungwa Dwarf Chameleon.  He measures about 2.5" (6cm) long.

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Sitting on a granite ledge overlooking the Kilombero Valley, with the Sanje River leaping out into the void, a thin curtain of spray tumbling 170m to the rocks below.

MT MERU - CLIMBING AFRICA'S 5TH HIGHEST MOUNTAIN

It’s 1.30 am  - time to go.

We’re ready: all muffled up against the cold, headlamps at the ready, water bottles filled and energy snacks stashed in various pockets and hidey holes.

Setting off...

We are at Saddle Hut on Mount Meru and it is summit day.  The plan is to get to the summit around dawn, make our way back here in time for lunch and then carry on down to Miriakamba Hut for our last night on the mountain.

We have already spent 2 leisurely days hiking - it is important to acclimatise properly.  On the first day, we walked through beautiful forest from Momella Gate up to Miriakamba Hut, at 2500m (around 8250’).  On the way, we saw a herd of buffalo, giraffe, warthog, bushbuck, Olive Baboon, Sykes’ Monkey and the park’s signature species, the beautiful Black and white Colobus.

On the 2^nd day we woke up to glorious close-up views of Meru’s crater, with Kili’s smooth dome backlit to the east. What a spectacular mountain – it’s right there on my doorstep and I’ve wanted to climb for years, but always managed to put it off.  Until now.

Mt Meru at dawn, Miriakamba

We left Miriakamba after breakfast for the easy 4-hour hike to Saddle.  We started out in highland forest, with giant Podo and Hagenia trees all festooned with Spanish Moss, ferns and other beautiful plants. 

Red Hot Poker

Approaching Saddle (3500m, 11500’), Little Meru looms above us– Noah (our guide) said we would climb it for our afternoon excursion, which seemed overly optimistic.  In the end, it was a surprisingly easy hike and well worth the effort, with the land dropping steeply away on all sides, giving spectacular views.  

Summit, Little Meru

A short distance away, Meru’s main peak hovered, tantalisingly close.  The crater had filled with cloud and kept overflowing like a giant steam-filled cauldron, only for the clouds to get shredded by the wind and blown away.

Meru Crater

And so, here we all are in the dark, ready for the big day.  Anyone with any sense would be in bed, snuggling up against the cold.  But not us - Noah starts walking and off we trudge.  

We move at a slow pace, so as not to use up all our energy early on.  We have planned this trip to coincide with a full moon: our world is bathed in gorgeous silvery light and there is no need for headlamps as we zigzag our tortoise-like way up to Rhino Point.  Extraordinarily, there is a rhino skeleton here, hence the name – although why a rhino would want to be here seems a bit of a mystery.  (Black Rhino were common in Arusha National Park as recently the 1970’s, but were wiped out by the 80’s to satisfy the world’s weird desire for rhino horn).

From Rhino, the trail makes its way along the crater rim, veering off occasionally to skirt tricky sections.  Most of the time we are walking on ash and scree, but on occasion we have to use our hands and clamber across precarious rocky slopes.  Sometimes we find ourselves on a narrow ledge, with the mountainside dropping away to Ol Donyo Sambu on our right, while on our left, a short scree slope ends in the yawning void of the crater – a 2000’ sheer drop.

The going is hard work, especially on the unstable scree sections, and oxygen is in short supply.  By 4.30 am, we are getting tired and Jules announces that she’s had enough, is turning back.  Noah is horrified: ‘But we’re almost there!’ (Yeah, right!) ‘It gets much easier up ahead’.  Jules is persuaded and Noah is right: a short while later, the going improves and we can even see the summit.  It still looks dauntingly far above us, but now our goal is clear.  It’s quite simple really: just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The hard slog up

Just before 6 am, the sun comes up, painting the eastern horizon in a dazzling array of peaches, pinks and oranges.  Kilimanjaro’s dome looms out of the layer of cloud, which laps at the edge of the crater just below us.  A magical scene.

Mt Kilimanjaro at dawn

It is around 7.30 when we come around a corner and there it is: Socialist Peak (so-called because this is where Mwalimu Nyerere came when he launched his political theory of African Socialism) – at 4566m, just over 15000’, Africa’s 5^th highest peak.  It is a fantastic feeling, being on top of the world after six hours of trudging.  Jules waxes eloquent: ‘Never – again!’ she manages in a quavering voice.

At last!

But the gods of the mountain have not been kind: the clouds have now gathered around the mountain and visibility is minimal.  And sadly, 2 of our number have had to turn back – the effects of altitude were just too much.  So we don’t hang around long to savour our achievement, but head back down the mountain once more.

It’s odd how down also means ‘down’.  I found the night climb relatively easy, but the descent is much more difficult.  I suspect I was a bit dehydrated and suffering from a sugar low, but there was more to it than that. On the way up I was sustained by the anticipation of that sense of achievement, of getting there: going down, there’s nothing left to look forward to, except a looooooong hot soak to wash away the grime.

Lobelia

So, of course, back home, we found that we had run out of water and had to make do with a meagre bucket shower!

Camera Trap

I finally got out my new toy the other day.  Well, not new new, just the first outing for me.  It was a camera trap, given to me by my friend and colleague, Ivan Carter.  These are very cool gizmos: you set it up in a likely spot (by a game trail or near a water hole), switch it on and leave it.  You come back the next day and see what you’ve got.

The camera emits an infrared beam; the idea is that an animal comes wandering along and through the beam, which triggers the camera to take a photo.  It can also take photos at night, using an infrared flash.  This is invisible, so doesn’t disturb the animal and scare it away.  The resulting pictures are very grainy black and white, which lends them a nicely cloak-and-dagger feel.

It took me a couple of attempts before I captured anything apart from my own furrowed brow as I tried to figure out how the thing works.  But finally it all came together.

I chose a water hole in front of camp and pretty soon got a whole stream of baboon bottoms as they (baboons, not bottoms.  Or rather baboons and their bottoms…) made their way to water.  I even got a shot of a baboon running towards the camera.  The next image was pretty much black – I figured out that the baboon was playing with the camera and I ended up with a close up of it’s stomach.  The next shots were all askew, said baboon having messed up my carefully arranged composition.

Next morning I checked the camera – and found a fun sequence of elephants coming to drink.  One female was clearly suspicious of the setup; the camera gives a short flash as the beam is disturbed, triggering the infrared flash and taking the photo.  She must have seen this and come to investigate.  In the first image you can see her, broadside on, drinking.  Next she has come right up to the camera and all you can make out is the fore legs and trunk.  In the 3^rd shot, she has backed up, but is still staring at the camera in a very alert posture.  I had set the camera to take photos at 30-second intervals, so there is a bit of a gap, but you can still clearly see the progression.

So, here they are.  I will keep playing and post more photos as and when I get them.  Enjoy!

Lions and Rhinos, North Serengeti

Nyamalumbwa, North Serengeti – July 2012

It’s been very wet in this part of the world, so we arrive to long grass, still lush and green – and plumes of smoke, with the annual onslaught of TANAPA’s early burning programme in full swing.

Kakae tells us that the normal route to our camp is treacherous at the moment, so, not wanting to spend a cramped night in a bogged-down land cruiser, we decide to take the long way round.  It’s actually fine: for the first hour or so we come across many smallish herds of wildebeest, the forerunners of the torrent that will soon arrive.  (We are hoping to catch the migration during our 3-day stay, but the better-than-usual rains means that there is still plenty of grazing further south, reducing the pressure to head this way).

We come across a lovely breeding herd of elephant, feeding peacefully on either side of the road, and a statuesque male giraffe doing a passable impression of a drunken telephone pole.

As we near Kogakuria kopje, the land drops away to the north, giving us sweeping views over the northern Serengeti and Maasai Mara, with the dark band of the Mara River snaking through it.

During dinner, lions start calling nearby and they keep it up for most of the night – so at daybreak, we have a mission: find those pusscats!  The early light is stunning and smoke from a still-burning bush fire drifts across the landscape.  We stop to scan and I hear a soft grunt behind.  A lion calling?  We turn to check.  A few hundred metres away, three Hooded Vultures on a low branch show us the way; and there they are, a pair of tawny shapes pushing through the grass. It takes us several minutes to find the whole pride, 9 animals in total, including two males and a subadult.  One of the males has a fresh gash on his face and the group appears agitated, moving restlessly and stopping frequently to sniff bushes.  Maybe there are other lions around, interlopers on their territory.  This would explain all the roaring last night, as well as the war wounds... but we will never know for sure.

We set off for the Mara River, but it is not to be: on a nearby ridge, we spot a pair of black rhino.  20 minutes later, we have bumped and ground our tortuous way to the place and there they are – a mother and her well-grown calf.  They are incredibly calm, letting us get to within 50 metres.  What a privilege, with this species under so much pressure from poachers!  They trundle off towards the setting sun, a poignant image - I can’t help wondering how many more times I can hope to see a sight like this.

(Click this link to see Richard's rhino video)

We plan a big day out, heading south to try to catch the full migration. Luckily for us, more and more wildebeest and zebra have been flooding into the area over the last couple of days: we find a herd of several thousand crossing the Bologonja River.  They are skittish, as the dense band of forest along its banks could easily hide predators, so they take it at a full gallop, to the accompaniment of clouds of swirling dust and their own demented honkings.

Lake Manyara and Ngorongoro Crater

My season kicked off the other day with a 4-day trip to Lake Manyara and Ngorongoro. 

Lake Manyara is looking great this early in the season, with plenty of water still, and lots of Lesser Flamingos too.  Much of the lake is fringed with pink and flocks can be seen flying from point to point a lot of the time.

A herd of 19 giraffe comes thundering out onto the lakeshore, then turns to stare back into the woodland.  We scan and scan for lion, but the bush is just too dense.

As we enter camp, we are surrounded by a herd of peacefully munching elephant, shattered trees lying all around.

During the night, the peace is broken by a troop of baboon, barking out in alarm as a leopard does the rounds.

We leave at first light for a leisurely morning in the southern part of the park. Breakfast is on the lakeshore with a dense wodge of flamingos barely 30m away.  More keep flying in and, as we eat, there is a constant babble of goose-like honking.

Probably the highlight of our Manyara stay is a large tom leopard strolling along the road ahead of us.  He disappears into the trees as we approach and we catch a glimpse of spotted coat in the bushes, before he melts into a thicket.  We sit quietly for 20 minutes or so, hoping he will re-emerge or climb a tree, but no joy.  Another group saw him later, and a female crossed the road nearby – most likely a mating pair.

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 A wonderful sight on the descent into the crater: a caracal, the most beautiful of all the African cats. She is carrying a mouse, and as we watch, a well-grown kitten comes out of hiding and proceeds to eat.  They aren’t at all shy and we spend a wonderful few minutes with them.

Up before 1^st light so as to make the most of the early morning in the Crater.  There is a thick fog and as we make our way around the rim, we almost run into a buffalo on the road.  In the weird light, its dark body is almost invisible and we all but nudge its bottom before stopping.

On the descent, there is the caracal pair again.  The kitten is once more feeding on a mouse, presumably caught by the mother.  The light is very uncertain, but we get close-up views of the wonderful facial markings and long tufted ears that give this cat such an exotic look.  Gorgeous…

On the Crater floor, a large bull elephant comes walking along the road towards us; we pull up and wait for him – he walks right by, pausing to glare and flare his ears at us, just in case we haven’t grasped quite how massive he is.

Not long after, a pair of hunting lions.  They are in a good position, with plenty of game nearby.  A wildebeest walks right towards them, oblivious.  A short rush… and the lion stops dead.  It turns out that he is a youngster, still short of his 2^nd birthday, and probably lacks the confidence to take on a fully-grown bull wildebeest like that, with scary looking horns!

And to round it off – a magnificent Martial Eagle atop an acacia, plucking and eating what looks like an Egyptian Goose.  What a spectacular bird….

Ndutu moments

NDUTU MOMENTS

It has been a fun Green Season. 

Regular visits to Ndutu have made for great opportunities to revisit the regulars there and see how they’re doing.

The 3 cheetah brothers (The 3 Mouseketeers?) were among the cast of stars; some of you will be familiar with these guys, if you’ve been to Ndutu in the last few years.  They are often to be found around the Marshes / 2 Trees area, and are very reliable hunters.  This has been made easier by all the recently born wildebeest calves.

For Cuteness Factor, it was difficult to beat the Striped Hyena mother and cub, who played endlessly.  Striped Hyenas are unusual animals: solitary and nocturnal, you usually only get a brief sighting of them on a night drive.  So to have these two playing together for hours on end in bright sunlight and in the open was a huge pleasure.

The lion pride often to be seen around the Big Marsh had 2 sets of young cubs; The younger set must have been born in mid- December so they also provided plenty of entertaining viewing.  (But see under ‘Cuteness Factor’ above…)

There was also a cheetah female with young cubs, gorgeous with their long silky-furred necks and backs.  One thing about youngsters: all that growing requires a lot of food, so she was having to work very hard to keep them fed.

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Apart from these ‘regulars’, there was lots more going on. I had a beautiful sighting of a caracal mother with her cub; what a stunning cat!  Another noteworthy sighting was of a Patas monkey – as far as I know, the first ever record in the Ndutu area. Poor thing, he must have been very lost and very desperate to find some friends…

There is talk of a pack of Wild Dogs in the woodland to the south; we go that way a couple of times but no joy.  Well, plenty of joy actually, but none of the Wild Dog variety.

Bu there is so much more: elephant were plentiful and very relaxed.; great migration action; giraffe; and lovely flamingos on Lake Ndutu, once it filed up.  Viva Ndutu!

LAKE MANYARA, NGORONGORO, PIYAYA AND NDUTU – MARCH 2012

March saw my first ever Set Departure safari – and I’m glad to say it was a resounding success.

We all met up for a night at Rivertrees in Usa River – and a very diverse bunch we were!  We had a couple from Australia, a

Scots lady and two Filipinas, as well as myself – a Kenyo-Tz-Brit??

Our itinerary took us  to Lake Manyara in the Great Rift Valley, where Iain Douglas-Hamilton did his ground-breaking research into elephant in the ‘60s, before heading up to Ngorongoro Crater.  After the Crater, we spent a couple of days in Piyaya, the wonderful Maasai community area on the edge of Serengeti; and finally to Ndutu where we were hoping for the Great Migration, as well as good cat viewing.

Trip highlights included watching a lioness stalk a warthog, making excellent use of a concealed ditch as she inched her way closer.  Eventually, the pig sensed her presence and her final charge was in vain… but it was wonderful to watch a predator in action, all focus and stealth – quite unlike the usual lion sighting, with all four paws in the air, accompanied by loud snoring!

One of our number was a keen birder and he was fascinated by the colony of weavers that had taken up residence by the camp kitchen: all these gorgeous yellow birds, in a frenzy of courtship activity, oblivious to the goings-on below as the busy crew got on with the business of pampering us.

One morning, we decided to split up, with 3 of us opting to go for a morning game walk, while one of our number decided to go on a birding drive with Philip.  The walkers had hardly gone 200m when a radio call came through – the ‘birders’ had found a cheetah on a kill!  So we abandoned our walk and climbed into the car for a lovely hour watching this beautiful cat feeding on her fresh kill of a Grant’s Gazelle.  (Funnily enough, we walkers had spotted the kerfuffle of the chase, with gazelle and impala running in all directions; but had concluded that they had been disturbed by us).  It was great to be able to spend a wonderful morning with this cat within a couple of hundred metres of camp – and not another vehicle to be seen! We weren’t even inside a National Park, which makes moments like these all the more special.

We got to spend a fascinating afternoon with members of the nearby Maasai community when we were in Piyaya.  It is always an eye-opener for outsiders to experience first hand a way of life that goes back centuries.  Our host had a herd of several hundred cattle, so in monetary terms he was pretty wealthy.  To our ‘modern’ way of thinking, living in a cramped & smoky hut made of cow dung & with almost no personal possessions seems utterly inexplicable, when simply selling off his herd would enable him to upgrade to a different way of life… but that fails to grasp the self-evident fact that these folk are perfectly happy with what they have, and that living without their beloved cattle would itself be an intolerable existence.  In a world rushing ever faster towards bland homogeneity, that is something to be celebrated.  Vive la difference!

As is so often the case, one of the most memorable moments of all was at the micro end of the safari spectrum: in this case, a dung beetle earnestly pushing its precious ball of dung across the plain.  To the human eye, this is the epitome of pointless endeavour – where on earth can he be going?  The plain stretches for 40 kilometres in all directions, and it all looks exactly the same, so why not just… bury the stupid thing and be done with it? But beetles clearly know best, and so they trundle across the plain looking for THE perfect place to bury their ball of dung…

At the end, we all went our separate ways.  Which, in this case, meant the UK, Australia, Usa River, Hong Kong and Zanzibar.  All in all, it was a great week with plenty of variety on offer – and a fun group of people to travel with into the bargain!

Katavi and Ruaha moments - August 2011

The plane leaves early from Arusha airport on its long flight round Western Tanzania.

After Tabora ,the brown patchwork of maize fields gives way to the silver and sepia of the miombo woodland in the dry season. We fly over unbroken woodland for most of the hour-long flight.

Katavi is dry but there is still water in the Katuma river, small fetid pools full of hippo. To call it water is over-egging it somewhat. In reality it is a slightly diluted solution of hippo dung, pungent when you get down wind. Eau de Hippeau? Anyone?

The crocs are already somnambulant in their caves in the riverbank or under shady bushes. They won’t get active again till it rains in November.

In the afternoon a group of giraffes standing stiffly to attention, all staring the same way. A scan with binos reveals a sedately walking lioness who wanders to a shady spot - and there is the rest of the pride, several cubs and a big male, a lovely family portrait. The cubs are hungry, latching onto any nipple that presents itself, but it seems the females are out of milk. Sharp teeth and urgent sucking are too much and she pushes them away with a snarl and a grimace.

Off to Paradise, where the palm fronds clatter in the stiff breeze. In front of us, an idyllic pastoral scene. Herds of buffalo and impala graze peacefully alongside warthog, reedbuck and hippo. A fish eagle flies past and a great cloud of water birds lifts and settles again once the danger has past   The hippos sigh gustily in the spring nearby

To the Katuma again where a bull elephant in full musth is right by the road. He ignores us but gives himself an elaborate dust shower in the road. He turns to glare at a truck that appears round the corner and then ambles away into the woodland.

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In Ruaha, the Mwagusi River attracts a steady stream of thirsty customers. It is largely dry at this time of year but the elephant are adept at digging water holes and siphoning the filtered water up with their trunks. When they are done, baboons, impala and wart hog take advantage of these shallow wells.

In pearly morning light baboon barking alerts us. We drive to the Mwagusi. the baboons are in a large tamarind tree, barking hysterically. We are about to change position when a leopard comes into sight, dragging a freshly killed baboon. This provokes a new volley of barks. She drags her prey across the sand river and disappears into a dense combretum thicket.

Later that morning, we pick up fresh leopard spoor in a wooded gully.  Moments later, there she is – a pretty young female sprawled on a low baobab branch. She blinks sleepy green eyes at us but does not move.

News comes in that 2 lionesses from the Mwagusi pride are stalking a giraffe. We arrive to find a stalemate. The bull giraffe is standing firm, staring at the two lionesses, who are not trying anything on. The giraffe is bleeding from a wound on his hind leg. Presumably, the lion will wait till he turns his back before making a move? In the end the giraffe wanders off unmolested but there is a significant pool of congealed blood on the grass

Down to the Mwagusi again, where a herd of elephant is slowly coming back to life after snoozing through the heat of the day. A large female makes her way to a favourite rock and proceeds to scratch herself  - first her flanks then under her chin and finally an intensely pleasurable work out on her bottom.

There is a flash of crimson overhead as a turaco flies into the canopy of a nearby fig.

What an intense pleasure there is to be had in these tableaux of everyday bush life – so ordinary, so very special.

Bush Fires - the beauty and the beast

It’s late January.  The short rains, which started so promisingly (and so early), are long gone.  The sun blazes down each day from a blue, blue sky and the wind howls – sucking the last of the moisture out of the soil.

We are headed home after a day in the office.  There is a dense bank of smoke hanging over the park.  As we reach home, we can see it clearly - great grey gouts boiling up from the burning bush below, the underside glowing a dull red in the fading light.

During the night, we keep an eye on the fire to make sure it doesn’t jump the boundary onto our side.  A couple of times, we have to back burn to stop its progress.  It’s all very destructive but weirdly beautiful too. 

Occasionally, birds fly out of the trees as the flames approach; unused to flying at night, they are disorientated and make crash landings in bushes a short hop away.

It’s controlled burning time – the National Park authority has decided to burn the area.  Ostensibly, this is to prevent a massive build up of dead grass and wood, which might lead to a catastrophic hot fire in future; and also to reduce the amount of parasites in the bush.

Hmmm. All very well in principle, but is it a coincidence that there are only 4 or 5 commonly found tree species in this part of the park?  The very species with hardy saplings, capable of withstanding fire even when small.   Surely diversity should be an important goal of park management? Regular annual burning of the same areas mean that the more delicate saplings just do not stand a chance of survival.

Also, this is the time of year when food is plentiful after the short rains: so all kinds of bugs, birds and reptiles are breeding, making the most of the windfall.  How many nests, eggs and hatchlings went up in smoke?

And finally, even the dead wood and fallen leaves and old grass have a role to play within the system, as protection, food, breeding areas. If it is burnt every year, this whole section of bio diversity is likewise gone

There is no doubt that burning is an important management tool for park wardens; it is equally certain that it is overused in many parts of Tanzania. With us, it is the same areas that are burnt each year.

Bush fires set for three days in a row and finally, one jumped our double firebreak, aided by a strong wind. Luckily, we had enough people on hand to beat it out before it took hold in one of the wilderness areas of our plot

On the plus side: what’s the betting that the ellies will pay us a visit soon?  With so much burnt, they should be looking for better foraging grounds… karibuni sana!