Drumbeat UK Autumn 16

8-9 / 16

On safari in the land of
the sleeping warrior
Today the Marsh Lions are in disarray, poisoned, displaced and dispersed by Maasai
herdsmen who illegally drive thousands of cattle into the National Reserve every night,
forcing those who would wish to experience the Mara as I knew it in former times to
look elsewhere.
Fortunately there are still places – the Mara Conservancies, the Mara Triangle and parts
of the National Reserve itself – where the big cats and their visitors can still find peace and
tranquillity; and that is what brought me to Sala’s Camp.
Far from the Marsh Pride’s current troubles, Sala’s enjoys the most remote location in the
Reserve. Set on the banks of the Sand River, it looks directly into the Serengeti National Park
and is usually the first place to see the migration arrive, and the last to see the herds depart.
Better still; the resident lion pride is the biggest in the Reserve. Currently numbering 31, it
is led by two magnificent males known as Alex and Scar. Their territory extends across both
sides of the border and is also renowned for good black rhino sightings.
The camp itself offers the luxurious comfort and great guiding as you would expect from
a property run by Mikey and Tanya Carr-Hartley, a 4th generation Kenyan family whose
safari portfolio also includes Solio Ranch in Laikipia, Sasaab Lodge in Samburu and Giraffe
Manor in Nairobi.
We’re so privileged to be hidden away in this very private corner of the Mara, says Mikey.
Most guides seldom come this far and would soon be lost if they did.
This was certainly not the case with Moses Kaleku, Sala’s affable
senior guide, who joined me for a picnic breakfast under a
solitary desert date tree, where the wind carried the sound of the
advancing wildebeest like the distant roar of motorway traffic.
The herds had appeared early this year. Even before my own
arrival there were reports of 300 wildebeest having crossed the
Sand River at the beginning of June. Now there were thousands
and every day their numbers were growing.
We drove west, away from the Kuka Hills whose outline, say
the Maasai, resembles a sleeping warrior. In places we passed
milestones in the grass, indicating the border between Kenya
and Tanzania that the migrating herds cross with impunity.
Giraffes stood out like markers on the plains, measuring the
illimitable distance.
Clouds of butterflies fluttered up in our wake. Coqui francolins
whirred away from beneath our wheels. In places the grass was
almost tall enough to hide a lion, and wherever I looked, on the
high rolling ridges like the waves of the sea, and on the green
slopes and wide hollows below, lay the ever-growing multitude of
zebras and wildebeest, and not another vehicle in sight. This was
the Mara I thought I would never see again – and anyone who is
remotely interested in safari will love it as much as I did.
THE Masai Mara has always been my favourite big game stronghold.
This is where I saw my first wild lions 40 years ago, following the
Marsh Pride with Jonathan Scott long before they became known to
millions through the BBC’s Big Cat Diary TV series.
BRIAN JACKMAN
www l P7