Champagne arrivals, a “talking shower,” lions at arm’s length, leopards on the catwalk, and two unforgettable days in the endless plains of Tanzania

There are places you visit.

And then there are places that stay with you.

The Serengeti belongs firmly in the second category.

After everything we had already experienced in Tanzania—from Arusha to Tarangire and the Ngorongoro Crater—I wondered how much more Africa could possibly show us.

The answer came almost immediately:

A lot more.

Landing in the Wild

Our small aircraft touched down at an airstrip in the middle of the northern Serengeti, and the moment we stepped out, it was obvious this would not be an ordinary arrival.

Waiting for us was our local Abercrombie & Kent team, our open safari Land Cruiser—and, rather unexpectedly, champagne.

A table had been set beside the vehicle with champagne, other drinks, Tanzanian-grown cashews and local delicacies.

No terminal. No baggage carousel. No airport lounge.

Just an airstrip surrounded by wilderness and a champagne welcome in the middle of Africa.

It was A&K’s version of immigration into the Serengeti.

And apparently, the local residents had also been informed of our arrival.

Within minutes of leaving the airstrip, wildebeest appeared. Then zebras. Antelopes.

A secretary bird. More wildebeest.

And then came the elephants.

The Elephant Welcome Committee

Ahead of us was an entire elephant family—mothers and babies moving slowly across the landscape.

One scene stopped us completely.

A mother elephant was feeding her baby.

There was something incredibly peaceful about watching them. These enormous animals moved through the wilderness with complete confidence, grazing as they walked, seemingly unconcerned about anything around them.

No hurry.

No anxiety.

No need to impress anyone.

They simply belonged here.

Every so often, the unmistakable silhouette of a candelabra tree appeared against the African landscape, reminding us once again that we were very far from home.

By now, though, another instinct had taken over.

Lunch.

And once again, A&K had something special waiting.

A Michelin-Star Lunch Without a Restaurant

Somewhere in the middle of the Serengeti, our vehicle stopped.

There was no lodge.

No restaurant.

No other safari vehicle.

Instead, a private tent had been erected in the wilderness with a beautifully arranged lunch spread.

It felt less like a safari lunch and more like someone had transported a Michelin-star dining room into the Serengeti.

And we had the entire place to ourselves.

As we ate, vultures and eagles circled and rested nearby. Elephants moved across the distance. Antelopes occasionally ran through the landscape.

There are experiences that photographs can capture.

And there are others where photographs simply prove that you were there.

This was one of those moments.

Sitting at a beautifully set table, eating lunch while elephants walked through the Serengeti around us was something I had never imagined experiencing.

After lunch, we headed toward our home for the next few nights.

And this camp would be unlike any other on our journey.

Our Mobile Camp in the Serengeti

Of the three A&K camps we stayed at during the safari, this was the only mobile camp.

The camp moves periodically, following the seasons and wildlife movement. Because of that, everything here felt temporary—in the best possible way.

This wasn’t a hotel built beside the wilderness.

We were living inside the wilderness.

As we approached, the camp team welcomed us and escorted each of us to our tents.

The differences became obvious immediately.

There was no traditional front door.

To enter our room, we unzipped the tent.

There was no permanent plumbing system either. Water was supplied manually into containers outside each tent by our assigned camp staff.

And then came my favorite feature.

The shower.

Or, as I named it:

The Talking Shower

The night before, you scheduled your shower time.

At the appointed hour, a camp attendant stood outside the tent on the other side of the shower area and filled the elevated water container with water at the appropriate temperature.

You turned on the shower.

Then came the conversation.

“Temperature okay?”

“Yes.”

“Water okay?”

“A little warmer.”

More warm water would be added.

“Better?”

“Perfect!”

And so you showered in the middle of the Serengeti while having a conversation with someone outside responsible for maintaining your perfect water temperature.

Luxury safari technology, Serengeti style.

I called it the Talking Shower, and it became one of those little experiences I know I will remember for the rest of my life.

After settling in and taking some downtime, we regrouped at 4 p.m.

The afternoon safari was about to begin.

We had no idea what was waiting for us.

Into the Endless Serengeti

Wildebeest wandered around the area near camp.

Vultures rested high in the trees.

In the distance were hills that our guide explained were toward the Kenyan border.

Only then do you begin to understand the scale of this ecosystem.

The Serengeti National Park itself covers roughly 5,700 square miles in Tanzania, while the broader Serengeti ecosystem extends across northern Tanzania toward Kenya’s Maasai Mara.

This enormous connected wilderness supports one of nature’s greatest spectacles: the Great Migration, involving roughly 1.5 million wildebeest along with hundreds of thousands of zebras and gazelles moving in search of water and fresh grazing.

But statistics don’t adequately describe the Serengeti.

You understand its size only when you stand inside it.

The horizon seems to have no end.

Giraffes stood above the plains like watchtowers.

Zebras mingled with wildebeest.

Large antelopes grazed nearby.

Elephants moved slowly in the distance.

And then something else began moving toward us.

Dark clouds.

Rain had not been part of our plan.

Apparently, nobody had informed the Serengeti.

We decided to keep moving.

And that decision paid off.

The Leopard Under the Tree

Our guide suddenly spotted something beneath a tree.

A leopard.

A magnificent leopard was resting quietly in the shade.

Cameras came out instantly.

Other safari vehicles eventually began arriving as guides shared the sighting over their radios.

Soon our leopard realized it had become the afternoon celebrity.

Apparently unimpressed with its growing audience, it slowly stood, walked away from the exposed area and settled somewhere quieter.

I could almost imagine what it was thinking:

Can a leopard get some privacy around here?

After spending time watching it, we continued.

And then our guides found something even more extraordinary.

Our First Pride

Seven lions.

Four cubs.

Three lionesses.

One by one, they appeared walking down a hill.

And for a while, there were no other safari vehicles around.

It felt like a private premiere arranged exclusively for us.

We stopped.

They kept coming.

Closer.

And closer.

The cubs played with one another and with their mothers. Some stopped to rest. Others wandered curiously around.

Soon they were within ten feet of our vehicle.

Then even closer.

At moments, lions passed only a couple of feet away.

The remarkable thing was not simply their proximity.

It was their complete indifference to us.

They didn’t appear frightened.

They didn’t appear aggressive.

They barely seemed to acknowledge that we existed.

We were simply another object in their landscape.

Watching lion cubs playing beside their mothers at such close range was one of those experiences you know, even while it is happening, will remain with you forever.

And then the Serengeti gave us some comedy.

Tom and Jerry — Serengeti Edition

Suddenly, two lionesses began chasing a much smaller cat.

What followed looked like a scene from an African version of Tom and Jerry.

The little cat was chased, harassed and knocked around while desperately trying to escape two animals many times its size.

Whatever the lionesses’ intentions were, I am fairly certain the little cat considered the situation a life-threatening emergency.

Then cleverness won.

The cat spotted a small hole and disappeared inside.

The lionesses searched.

Nothing.

You could almost see the frustration on their faces.

The little survivor had won this round.

Between the leopard and our extraordinary encounter with the pride, we felt our day’s mission had already been accomplished.

But the Serengeti wasn’t finished.

Racing the African Storm

The clouds that had been following us were becoming darker.

Our camp was roughly 45 minutes away.

Time to move.

Before the rain arrived, we caught a spectacular sunset—the sinking sun fighting through dark storm clouds and painting the sky in extraordinary shades.

Then the heavens opened.

Heavy rain transformed the tracks into water and mud.

Our Land Cruiser suddenly became less safari vehicle and more amphibious assault vehicle.

The tires slipped.

Water covered parts of the track.

Mud flew.

And somehow the Land Cruiser kept going.

Our tour director and driver lowered the protective covers around the vehicle to keep us dry. In doing so, they became soaked themselves.

We were extremely grateful.

Eventually, through the darkness and rain, we arrived safely back at camp.

Dinner followed, along with the traditional recap of another unbelievable day.

Then everyone headed back to their tents.

But before sleeping, there was one critical piece of planning for the next morning.

What time would you like your Talking Shower?

Priorities.

Morning on the Mara River

Two members of our group had chosen a 4:30 a.m. hot-air-balloon experience.

The rest of us chose another luxury:

Sleep.

Our safari departure was scheduled for 8 a.m.

At 7:15, I enjoyed my scheduled Talking Shower and prepared for another day in the Serengeti.

The morning began gently.

Colorful East African birds greeted us along the route.

Monkeys moved through the trees. 

Antelopes grazed nearby.

Waterbucks stood around the Mara River looking at us as though asking:

What are you people doing up this early?

Several enormous hippopotamuses were submerged in the Mara River, keeping cool beneath the surface.

Every so often, one would rise just enough to breathe, inspect the surroundings and disappear again.

Nearby were zebras and birds.

And then we noticed the crocodiles.

Several rested on rocks along the river.

One crocodile began moving suspiciously close to the hippos.

What exactly it was planning, I don’t know.

But challenging a group of hippos did not seem like a particularly good career decision.

At that moment, one hippo lifted itself farther out of the water—just enough for us to capture the photograph we had been waiting for.

Then it disappeared again.

Almost as if it knew.

The Reality of the Migration

As we drove toward the airstrip to collect our balloon-flying friends, we crossed the Mara River area and encountered another side of nature.

Several dead wildebeest lay near the river.

Our guides explained that this, too, is part of the migration.

Not every animal completes the journey.

And nature wastes very little.

Vultures—the Serengeti’s cleanup crew—would eventually do their work.

For the first time during our safari, there was also a noticeable smell of death.

It was a reminder that the Great Migration isn’t a Disney production.

It is survival.

We soon reached the airstrip and found our two friends.

Their smiles told us everything.

From the balloon, they had watched the Serengeti from perhaps 100–200 feet above the ground and spotted lions, leopards and other wildlife from an entirely different perspective.

Maybe next time.

Hot-air balloon over the Serengeti: officially added to the list.

Waiting for the Great Crossing

After collecting them, we returned toward the Mara River.

More crocodiles.

More hippos.

More extraordinary stillness.

Then our guide took us to another lion pride resting beneath the shade of a tree.

A giraffe wandered in the distance.

And beyond them came one of the most extraordinary views of the trip.

A sea of wildebeest and zebras.

A sea of wildebeest and zebras.

Thousands seemed to stretch across the landscape.

They stood there.

Waiting.

These were animals participating in the migration and potentially preparing for a river crossing.

But they had apparently not crossed during the previous couple of days.

We waited and hoped.

Nothing.

Nature doesn’t follow tour schedules.

The famous Mara River crossing was one experience we had hoped to witness but didn’t.

And strangely, I was okay with that.

Safari teaches you quickly that the animals are not performers.

There is no showtime.

No guarantee.

No second take.

You simply arrive and see what nature decides to reveal.

Before us stood what looked like an enormous army of wildebeest and zebras waiting for their marching orders.

Perhaps tomorrow.

Perhaps the next day.

But not today.

Warthogs, Hyenas and Border Control

Continuing along the river, a little warthog suddenly came running across the landscape.

Where was it going?

No idea.

But warthogs always seem to look as though they’re late for an important meeting.

Farther ahead, we found a group of hyenas sunbathing beside the track.

They were stretched out peacefully, apparently unconcerned by everything around them.

Eventually, we continued toward the Tanzania–Kenya border.

Waiting nearby were elephants.

Naturally, I decided they were the local immigration and customs officials.

They were apparently responsible for ensuring everyone respected the border rules—rules which, of course, did not apply to them.

We stopped for photographs, briefly stepped onto the Kenyan side to tick another country off the list, and continued on.

Elephants.

Ostriches.

Wildebeest.

Endless landscapes.

Then back to camp for lunch and a little rest.

At 4 p.m., we headed out again.

One final evening safari.

And the Serengeti had saved another surprise.

The Leopard Catwalk

The evening began with what had now somehow become “normal.”

The Leopard Catwalk

The evening began with what had now somehow become “normal.”

Wildebeest.

Elephants and Birds.

Clouds in the distance.

Then our guide spotted something high in a tree.

Another leopard.

Once again, we were initially alone.

Our guide and driver’s ability to locate wildlife continued to amaze us.

We parked almost directly beneath the tree.

Above us, stretched across the branches, was the leopard.

Sleeping.

We photographed it from every angle.

Then something happened.

The leopard woke up.

It stood.

Walked along the branch.

Climbed down the tree.

And then walked directly in front of our vehicle.

If the previous day’s leopard had wanted privacy, this one apparently wanted a photoshoot.

It was the perfect Serengeti catwalk.

Step.

Pause.

Pose.

Walk.

Another pose.

Then it disappeared into the bushes, settled down and resumed resting.

Show over.

The light was fading.

It was time to return to camp.

And I couldn’t imagine a better ending to our final full day in the Serengeti.

Last Night Under the African Sky

Back at camp, nobody wanted the evening to end too quickly.

We gathered around the fire with drinks and talked about the day.

The lions.

The cubs.

The leopard.

The Mara River.

The wildebeest.

The elephants.

The Talking Shower.

Then we looked upward.

Far away from city lights, the Serengeti night sky revealed itself.

Stars covered the darkness.

We pointed our cameras upward, curious to discover which stars and planets had been watching us all along.

Sitting beside a fire beneath that enormous African sky, it began to sink in:

Our safari was almost over.

Goodbye, Serengeti

After dinner, we returned to our tents for one final night.

The next morning, our 12-seat aircraft would take us back to Arusha Coffee Lodge.

From there, everyone would begin the journey home.

My friend and I had an especially painful departure schedule: a 5 a.m. flight, meaning we needed to leave the hotel around 1:30 in the morning.

Travel does occasionally remind you that paradise has check-out times.

Looking back, though, there was very little anyone in our group would have changed.

Tanzania had exceeded our expectations.

So had the Serengeti.

And throughout the journey, our guides, drivers, camp teams and the entire Abercrombie & Kent operation had turned an extraordinary destination into an extraordinary experience.
Over seven unforgettable days on safari, our group of six became more than just fellow travelers. Sharing game drives, meals, laughter, incredible wildlife encounters and the occasional long, dusty road created friendships that felt surprisingly natural in such a short time.

When it was finally time to say goodbye, there were hugs, exchanged contact information and genuine promises to stay in touch. We arrived in Tanzania as six travelers from different walks of life and left as friends, connected forever by seven extraordinary days in the African wilderness.

But perhaps what I will remember most is how little the animals seemed to care that we were there.

The lions walked beside us.

The elephants continued feeding.

The hippos disappeared beneath the river.

The leopard climbed down from its tree.

The wildebeest waited for a signal only they understood.

Life in the Serengeti simply continued.

For a few days, we were fortunate enough to sit quietly in the middle of it and watch.

There is an old saying:

“All good things must come to an end.”

Maybe.

But the best journeys don’t completely end.

They become stories.

They become photographs.

They become memories you revisit years later and, for a moment, you can still hear the wildebeest, smell the rain, see the lions walking toward you and feel the vastness of the African sky.

Thank you, Tanzania.

For the landscapes.

For the wildlife.

For the people who welcomed us.

For the unexpected moments.

And for reminding us just how extraordinary this planet still is.

We came to Tanzania looking for a safari.

We left with memories that will last a lifetime.

— Atlas Walker
Triyana Diaries