Tom and I before we board the plane to our first campsite.

 

 

 

Echoes ring down the halls of the Serena Hotel, the three girls’ high-pitched voices on a ninety-degree decibel. The following morning we boarded a Cessna Caravan (the Suburban of the skies) and arrived none the worse for the wear at a remote airstrip. At one point, a giraffe gracefully out-skirted us on the dirt runway making for an interesting and amusing  landing. Bill Winters says that, landing on the dirt strip is one of the difficulties of running a safari operation because of the plethora of seemingly unaware four-legged creatures. Two Toyota Land-cruisers (custom modified chassis) await our landing, not only to make sure the runway is clear, but also to ferry us to our tented campsite. 

The Campsite

We all piled into two surprisingly comfortable Land Cruisers and bumped our way to the first tented camp down the dirt road.

The entire Kenyan staff greeted us with the traditional “Jambo” or hello. We could see about seven different sized tents spread about the grassy field. Abassi, our personal staff member proudly showed us our well-appointed spacious insect-proof tent. The queen-sized bed with plush, colorful fluffy comforter, lamps at either end takes up most of the canvassed room. A bright batik animal print hangs on the wall opposite the bed. Nice touch, I’ve never been in a tent with a wall hanging. The raggedy tent we own sports several small holes which make easy access for all sorts of flying creatures.

Our bathroom is basic, two large enamel bowls supported by matching tables and a pitcher full of water to fill each bowl. The “toilet” and shower are shrouded behind two curtains. Thank goodness, we have a toilet seat propped on a stand over a large hole lovingly dug by Abassi. (Always a good camper, I’m fully prepared to “squat” for a week.) He instructed us to use the spade to cover our “movements”; the shovel is conveniently located in the mound of dirt near the “toilet.” An upgrade from an outhouse with spiders. I could not force myself to ask what types of creatures lurked in the spidery recesses of the curtain covered toilet room.

The shower is pure ingenuity, a platform of wooden slats make up the floor, although I noticed with some trepidation that the width between the slats leaves plenty of room for a snake to slither through. A chain and a faucet hang through a hole in the canvas-structured ceiling. “Just let me know when you want to take a shower and I get you hot water.” Says Abassi. I make a mental note to find out exactly how far Abassi has to lug my bucket of hot water after first cooking it over the fire.  Abassi demonstrates operation of the shower as he pulls the chain and the hot water spills forth from a 5-gallon bucket. Military showers (five minutes) may be a problem for the girls.

The Mess Hall

The dining tent is set off to the side of camp, conveniently close to the staff cooking station. I fully expect to come home ten pounds heavier than when I left. Having reviewed the website before the trip I looked forward to meals such as fresh mushroom soup with a hint of sherry and wild boar stew. Surely the pig in the anticipated delectable stew died of old age, leaving grandpigs in her wake.

We will be dining four freaking times a day—but not to worry, I’m already losing weight—a happy side effect from Malarone, the   medication suggested by the Travel Clinic at The University of Washington. As a side note, I asked Abassi if he had contracted malaria. He said, “All the time, but I just go to the clinic and get the pills.” Hmmm, this gives me pause about my dream of living in a safari tent for months at a time while watching the occasional gangly-gaited giraffe as it parades in front of me, and accompanied by the bone-chilling roar of far distant lions. I must say the wild animal symphony is pleasant compared to the kids when they are being—well—kids.

Camp Activities

The boys endlessly amused themselves by leaving their “movements” in the girl’s toilet. Recall that, after one finishes using the facilities, a spade full of dirt completes the “flush” system. They left their remains in their Uncle Greg’s toilet and did not “flush.” I just don’t understand the joy that they get from this but there you have it. Later, a loud scream echoes through the camp which tells me that Greg managed to reciprocate in kind.

The girls find endless joy in torturing the boys, they throw things at the tent, sing endless, tuneless, songs of “row, row, row your boat.” The chorus, of “shut up”, “no, you shut up, you moron” and so on scared every single animal away from our campsite. Eventually even the kids succumb to the heat and lay exhausted on their beds, and all is quiet in the campsite for a few hours in the afternoon.

Each evening our ragtag group emerged from our separate tents wearing fresh hand laundered safari clothing. The staff washes our clothing each day excepting the women’s “smalls” or underwear.  I prided myself on my ability to take a military shower however I nicked every surface of my skin in my hurry to shave. I emerged from the shower most times looking like I had been in a battle with a wily fox. So, I’m very thankful for my long pants, which keep the possible mosquitoes at bay. It looks as though my niece Madison is having a few problems with the time management in her shower by her soap encrusted long locks.

Our communication with the outside world is via SAT phone, which suffices just fine, only later, did we learn that one of guides had a computer in his tent. We are therefore up to date on the ongoing election strife and tribal battles in Kenya. The incumbent will not accept defeat even though he lost by 300,000 votes. He claims the winner “stacked” his votes. The common thinking at our campsite says there is quite a bit of “stacking” on both sides.

Last night Conner walked out of the mess tent and thoughtfully contemplated the stars. Kids have way too many activities going on in the United States, perhaps he is happy to have some peace and quiet. “What’s going on Conner?” I say. “The jeep is too far away for me to retrieve my IPod.” Sigh—he wants to be plugged into something. “Conner, the jeep is only 100 feet away, do you want me to walk with you?” “Mom, there are lions out there, I AM NOT going home in a body bag.” I am sure that at some point in his life, my son’s over active imagination will serve him well . . .

The view from our campsite.

In our final installment, elephants, chimps and a leopard take the stage.