Game Drive

So the way the game drives work: you’re  picked up in an off-road truck like a Landcruiser or similar, then driven into the local game park, in our case the Maasai Mara National Reserve. And this is the big one, the real deal, where all those National Geographic movies are made  

The cb’s are buzzing with chatter, guides letting other guides know where certain animals are. It’s cold inside the truck at 6 am and no windows, but your blood is pumping. Straight off you see a herd of zebra 20 feet from the road. Great start. Minutes later giraffes are nipping at treetops. 

We round a corner and three elephants are grazing just off in the distance. We’re really cooking now. 

Then the gazelles make an appearance and more. 

But come on, we know what we’re looking for… we’re all blood thirsty animals. And who is the king of the jungle? Or in this case the savanna. That’s right, we’re trekking lions bro! We want ‘em. Why? Cuz they scare the living shit out of us. We know this guy can tear us to shreds. So the hunt begins. Our primitive instincts kick in to overdrive. Here kitty, kitty, kitty…

Maasai Warriors

Let’s just say these guys are badasses. When they reach puberty, they move out of their villages and live in the bush for 6 years protecting the village from roaming pretadors and also hunting for animals. They rub gel over their bodies to protect them from the cold. Then, after 6 years of living outside, they shave their heads and become a man. Rough business if you ask me. 

These guys took us into their village and showed us their customs and their ways. Showing us how to throw a spear and use seeds and berries from the Acacia tree and native plants. 

They danced and made vibrating sounds with their mouths and jumped up and down. They were so friendly and proud of their culture. 

Later that night they built a fire and we all sat around singing songs and feeling at peace within our new temporary home, Africa. 

Next morning, we were shown the local school and the cutest kids you’ve ever seen. They counted for us in Swahili, English and their local language, then regaled us with singing and dancing. It was all so heartwarming. 

Since they don’t mark their age when the children are born, they have them drape one arm over their head and measure. If they can reach their ear with their finger they are five.

 

(Checking her age.)

 

Sleeping on the ground still sucks, but seeing these kids, and these Masai Warriors… well, it’s worth it a thousand times over. Kwa heri! (Goodbye in Swahili). 

 

Kenya

So I’ve arrived in Nairobi from Cairo. Ready to begin my new adventure. Unfortunately, my flight was delayed and nobody is there to meet me at the airport. Cabbies begin approaching me, telling me they’ll take me to my hotel. I cling tight to my bags and tell them I’m pre booked for a ride. Ten minutes pass and still nothing. I’m like a dead carcass now, the vultures continually swooping in. I call the hotel, but nobody answers. Then I call London, where my tour is based. I tell them my situation, then the line cuts out. I nibble on my fingers and ponder my decisions in life. I try London again, but now I can hear them but they can’t hear me. 

The Kenyans are friendly, yet persistent. Suddenly, somebody approaches. “Kevin?” “Yes, yes!” I cry out while nearly hugging the woman. She rushes me out of the feeding zone and passes me off to a driver who takes me to a nice hotel in the center of Nairobi. Here I eat and chill and wait for my tour to begin. 

3 days later I’m picked up and taken to a big, yellow truck which will be ferrying me from Nairobi, Kenya to Cape Town, South Africa over a 77 day period. Say what? 

(Can’t beat the view, and open air windows!)

There’s 11 on our tour, and it’s like the UN. We’re from Canada, Belgium, Australia, England, Ireland, Italy, and of course the U.S. Everybody is excited. We start out to a local giraffe sanctuary where I feed giraffes from my fingers. Next we drive to a campsite and learn how to setup our tents. It’s a little bit of a pain  and they’re pretty heavy to lug around. 

The first night is rough. Cold and uncomfortable. The 4” bedroll they were to provide is more like a one inch bedroll. If that! Hmmm… How in the hell am I gonna make it for 77 days? One thing is for sure: I’m gonna need to dig down to complete this mission. Hang on…