Sunset XV - The Serengeti
All the superlatives in the world or sagacious collection of words will never adequately describe what this morning brought us both. We have together, and on our own over the decades, had countless amazing experiences all over the world, but todays crashed its way into the top 5 in only a matter of hours. Starting with a 3:30am wake up call we were picked up at 4:00am by a driver from Serengeti Ballon Safaris for you guessed it, a hot air ballon ride over the Serengeti.
Booked before leaving Australia, this was not so much a “must do” item for us but one of those sitting in our centre ledger of “that would be cool if we could” type of things. Frightfully expensive, but then what isn’t in Africa, we locked it away and in truth sort of forgot about it for a while. We can guarantee you gentle reader, we will never say that again. Driven about an hour away to the company’s designated departure point we were met by 6 balloons lying flaccid on the grasslands with their baskets attached tendered to by a team of at least 40 ground crew. There was a tea & coffee station, toilets set up behind hessian barriers and even a photographer roaming the grounds taking souvenier photographs of us all. It was a remarkably professional operation that only heightened the anticipation.
We were assigned balloons, each holding 16 passengers and a pilot and run through the safety briefing before strapping on a waist belt and carabiner to secure us in the basket. The hum of fans filling the aerostat with cold air rang across the savannah before the roar of propane jets brought them to life. Unique for this type of ballooning was a “rocket-ship” style of launch with all passengers boarding in a horizontal position before take off. Once fully inflated, the basket was lifted through 90 degrees bringing us naturally to a standing position for the flight. Untethered from the safari vehicles anchoring us, we ever so softly departed Gods green earth to hitch a ride on the gentle breeze provided us that morning.
We have both ballooned before but this was incredible. The sun began to poke its way through some low horizon cloud bringing forth the most spectacular orange glow matching that of the gas jets regularly flamed to maintain altitude. No one spoke. Some cried, others gasped. Across the expanse at least a dozen other craft joined our ballet and below the great herd of zebra and wildebeest sprang to life on queue. Our pilot Mohamed was adept at spotting wildlife as he was at guiding his balloon across all three axis so we could view them better. We saw the bloats of hippos wallowing in their morning routines and eagles perched in their nests on the highest bows. Elephant, giraffe, zebras and more moved in unison across the plains like a Disney Movie. It was an absolutely phenomenal experience and one so perfectly suited for the Serengeti.
For about an hour we floated north-west on the gentle zephyr with our fleet of support vehicles following below ready for our capture. Slightly different every day based on conditions, the pilots gauged a safe landing site accessible to the ground crew and slowly brought their craft down for landing. Told to re-assume the rocket-ship position, we gently brushed the top of the long grass with the basket before stopping almost without knowing. A few seconds later the basket tilted back to the horizontal position amid a chorus of laughter from all inside. We hadn’t even unbuckled ourselves or alighted the craft and were presented, as per age old tradition, a glass of champagne to celebrate our successful flight and safe return. Honestly, does it get any fricken better? Sipping champagne at 7:00am in knee deep grass and ankle deep bog somewhere in an unfenced paddock in the middle of the Serengeti. We think not.
The remaining ground crew swooped into action packing away the basket and balloon without falter while we indulged in a second pouring and took precocious selfies. But our exploits weren’t over yet. We boarded another safari vehicle for a short 20min drive to Balloon Safari’s designated breakfast post. Yes breakfast. We honestly had no idea that was included in the package.
Within a cleared area of shrubby woodland, camp tables holding 18 placements were precisely set out with crockery, cutlery, linen napkins and more champagne glasses. And within a stones throw stood a mobile camp kitchen brimming with hatted chefs preparing our 3 course serving. As luxuriant as pre-revolutionary France, this was without a doubt a grandiose wank befitting Patsy Stone yet at the same time so absolutely fabulous darling. With more toilets available, bottomless glasses - which we took full advantage of under the insistence of our basket sharing French friend- and vistas to die for, we toasted our mornings success and bathed in the tempered African sun for another hour or so. The price tag accompanying this indulgence must be said was a little over the top. We didn’t really mind when booking but did make note of its budget stretching prowess. However, we also had no idea what was included but having now seen the brochure in real life, would do it again in a heartbeat.
Having said our goodbyes, the ground crew returned us to the Serengeti Visitors Centre where we met up with Albert for another magnificent piece to add to our day. We had a few options available which of course would all be spectacular in their own way, but opted for a short safari with lunch on the road then an early afternoon return to camp where we could unwind a little, digest the day thus far, and give Albert some time to himself too. We get very animated when travelling, well, one of us does, and it could be suggested the guides too might need some respite at times.
The Serengeti Plains, Tanzania
The Serengeti Wizard gesticulated his wand and moved us without map to a waterhole known locally as HippoTown. It should be mentioned at this point that criss-crossing the plains are a series of roads mostly going unsigned. Granted after a few days things started to look familiar, but the Wizard knew them backward and would with garbled notice from the two-way radio, or through a fast paced exchange in swahili with a fellow guide, swing the cruiser in any direction to land us on a yet unseen corner of natures menagerie. But after all, he is the Wizard of the Serengeti.
So, HippoTown was smelt long before being seen and for our first mass encounter of the beasts doing what they do best, luxuriating in their own filth, it was an extraordinary sight. Dozens of the animal lay below the water line, only their snouts and ears protruding with evidently no concept of personal space, to do nothing but occasionally submerge, poke their heads up further, or shit. On reflection that could be any teenage boy between the ages of 13 and 15 really.
The stench though was a little confronting, and remember one of us is a garbo, but the sight of these colossal creatures en masse was fascinating. Spending their daylight hours submerged, this is what they’re designed to do, they only get moving to eating after nightfall. Some did though get up to relocate to a more satisfactory patch of excreta that when on land showed their true beauty and sheer size. Native to sub-Saharan Africa and possessing an ancient greek name meaning “water horse”, the hippo is one of only two extant species in the family Hippopotamidae and the third largest land mammal behind the elephant and rhinoceros. Bizarrely, the closest living relatives of the hippopotami are whales, dolphins, and porpoises from which they diverged about 55 million years ago. With a bull averaging 1,500 kg, they are the most dangerous animal in Africa by deaths caused after the mosquito.
Associated more with Britain’s Fleet Street press, hippos engage in "muck-spreading" which involves defecating while spinning their tails to distribute the faeces over a greater area. Occuring both on land and in the water, its function is not well understood but could again be correlated to the behaviour of teenage boys. Perhaps not as majestic as the elephant or as regal as the lion, the hippo is a beautiful animal in its own right and fascinating to study in their natural habitat.
Our safari continued with numerous sightings of crocodile, eagle, impala and dik-dik, Pumba the warthog and those cheeky monkeys who seem to pop up everywhere and even a leopard nestled high in the branches of a tree we couldn’t really get a clear shot of. But the highlight of the afternoon was a semi mass migration of sorts by thousands of wildebeest and zebra across the plains against a backdrop of umbrella acacia trees and dust stirred by tyre and hoof. The zebra have extremely good eyesight and the wildebeest an exceptional sense of smell and they migrate together utilising these characteristics to create a mutually beneficial relationship for survival. They both follow the seasonal rains in search of fresh grazing with their differing feeding styles allowing them to coexist peacefully in the same areas. Furthermore, the mixed herds offer increased protection from predators through a "safety in numbers" strategy. The wildebeest, often referred to as “Africa’s leftovers”utilise their enhanced scent for communication and navigation through glands on their feet and chest making them plug ugly but super smart. A bit like John Malkovich really.
As planned, we returned to camp mid afternoon for Albert to call his family and us to park by the fire pit, order numerous gin & tonics, and reflect on possibly the best day ever in Africa. Moyo lodge was just so welcoming with both staff and guests equally friendly and it wasn’t hard to while away the hours sharing stories with fellow travellers from around the globe with a common love of Africa. Dinner was spectacular and selected from a wide range of options and the conversation enthralling deep into the night. We meet a creator working for the Tanzanian tourism board on a promotional video of the various lodges in the Serengeti which you’ll imagine was like moth to a flame for Fatpap. Working ourselves into some key shots and offering editorial input, needless to say a bottle found its way to the table and the staff wishing we’d all retire at a respectable hour. We didn’t. The head of lion patrol escorted us back to your bungalow in the wee small hours where our heads hit the pillow as our eyes simultaneously closed for the first time in 22 hours.