The 2022 African Journals, Chapter 18: The Misfits Leave Tsavo West National Park

 Chapter 18:

The Misfits Leave Tsavo West NP

The difference between chirping out of turn and a faux pas

depends on what kind of bar you're in.--Wilson Mizner

After last night, it's probably a good thing we're leaving Finch Hattons luxury resort this morning.   The Canadians started it.    The two Americans joined in whole-heartedly, leaving staff no doubt as to where we stood on the scale of cultural finesse.

It began innocently enough.   Randy and Sylvia were off on a trip to a rhino reserve and weren't expected back until late.   That left Randy's five other wives climbing wearily out of the Land Rover after the late game drive and staggering toward the main pavilion under the weight of all our gear. 

Marg, hereinafter know as the instigator of trouble and good ideas, said,   "I'm going to have a grilled cheese sandwich with French fries for dinner.”

"GOOD IDEA!"  chorused the rest of us.

And we did.   We sat down at the table covered with a pressed white cloth, candles,  and an array of wine glasses and ordered grilled cheese sandwiches with fries all around.   Someone told the waiter to give the chef our apologies.   After all, we still wanted breakfast in the morning.

Did we get two slices of American cheese food product on white Wonder bread?   No, our dinner came with homemade bread (crusts trimmed) and white cheese of some kind.   Plus, regular fries like you get in America and Canada.  It was the perfect dinner.

A meal fit for barbarians.   It was one of our favorites of the whole trip.

We opt to skip the morning game drive.   There is  packing to be done and we have to be at the airstrip for our flight to Nairobi.   Yes, we have to fly all the way back to Wilson airport in Nairobi and catch another flight to the Keekorok airstrip in the Maasai Mara to get to our next camp.   Each flight was about 35 minutes, so it was no big deal.

Some staff express surprise that we don't want a game drive in the morning and mention that another party went out in the field every chance they had.   Well, good for their enthusiasm.    Frankly, we seemed to cover the same couple miles, saw the same rock hyrax, the same giraffe at the bend in the road, and the same scenery every time we went out.  Game was limited and in deep brush.  It seemed like we never got more than a couple miles from the lodge, except for the night we went to the Maasai Olympics.

Plus, we are spoiled from being in places where game is plentiful and easier to focus a lens on.   And we are looking forward to our next camp.

I want to emphasize that these opinions are my own, and only mine.   I enjoyed my time at Finch Hattons.   It was restful and pleasant and a very nice lodge.

That is not to advise against going to Finch Hattons.   It is a lovely resort and there's lots of action around the water.   Staff does everything within its power to please and the food is very good.

In the morning, we have breakfast, say goodbye to staff, and to the hippos in the water.   The airstrip is only minutes away.

The weather this morning is grand and I get a clear shot of Mt. Kilimanjaro before leaving Tsavo West National Park.

Marg debarking in Nairobi at Wilson airport.

We get some snacks and cold sodas from the lounge  at AirKenya and then board a plane for the flight to Keekorok in the Maasai Mara.

Waiting at the airstrip there is a line of safari vehicles.   Somewhere in there are the vehicles that will take us to Enkewa.    

The Enkewa guides spot us immediately and soon we are saying hello and hugging them.   Marg has been here a number of times.   This is my second time and I feel like I'm going to my second home.

There are a number ri of camps serviced by this airstrip.   They all aren't waiting for us.

And we're on our way.   But, wait.   I don't recognize this route!!!

That drive was so unusual that it requires a post all its own, so I will close this one for now.

The 2022 African Journals, Chapter 17: Olympians All

 

Chapter 17:

Olympians All

 

Never put an age limit on your dream.

-Dana Torres, four- time Olympic swimming champion.

 

 

 

I’m spending some free time on my lovely deck at Finch Hatton resort, trying to catch a pied kingfisher diving into the water and coming out with a fish.    It’s a challenge with  inherent monumental frustration, but oh-so-fun.   You never know where the bird is going to hit the water.

 

All you can do is focus on the bird as it hovers and try to follow its quick flight path from side to side and up and down.   Then, depend on your reflexes and fast shutter speed to catch something.   Anything.   I could get them coming out of the water, but not going into it.

 

On the way to lunch, a Skyes monkey is spotted high up in a tree by the bridge and we all try to get photos but it’s well hidden by branches.   Yes, we are armed with our cameras because of the sunbirds in the flowering bush beside the dining area.   Staff has set baskets on side tables for us to place our cameras in, rather than putting them on the floor.

 

We fill the baskets and the rest go on the floor.

 

After lunch, I’m back on the deck and a bunch of Syke’s monkeys appear across the narrow neck of water beside my tent.  After a while, I see one on the shore the and watch it.   It approaches a long-dead tree trunk and sits down.

Then it sticks its hand into the log, withdraws it, and licks its hand.  Not until I get the photos on my computer do I see what it is eating and even then I’m not sure with it is. 

You need a lot of room to include the tail in a photo.

Note how wet the monkeys hand looks.

 

 

Some small, whitish things can be seen on its hand and lips.   Other photos show a sticky, slimy substance somewhat like saliva or honey.   The monkey carefully licks its hand, turning it over and inspecting it for more, and then puts it back in the log.

 

These are several guesses:   termite eggs or some other kind of insect eggs.   As for the slimy stuff, I’m left with saliva, and that’s a poor guess.

 

 

Later, we’re out on our game drive.  

 

Tsavo scenery

The vervets came out to play on the lawn at camp.

Vervets

Vervets

Suddenly, the driver turns and heads back in the direction of camp but instead of turning in the drive, he drives farther than we have even been from the lodge.   On and on we go with this Ferrari Safari, and then he takes us down a hill and into a flat meadow.

 

A tent is set up with a table full of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages and an assortment of cheeses, nuts, and crackers.   It’s what’s called a sundowner, but this one requires audience participation beyond eating and drinking.

A tall, slender Maasai is holding a spear and shield.   This is Isaac and he is posing for us.

 

I ask him to look fierce and that brings a smile to his face.  

 

“No, fierce.   Mean.”    He giggles.

 

No matter how solemn he tries to look there is always the hint of a smile.   Our ribbing doesn’t help.

This is as  fierce a look as Isaac can manage.

We are going to be treated to the Maasai Olympics, a demonstration of the three traditional Maasai warrior weapons:   a spear, a bow and arrow, and a rungu (akin to a knobkerrie).

 

The spiel is that the tradition of boys having to kill a lion with a spear for his right of passage to become a warrior is now being supplanted by the “Maasai Olympics.”  With tourism becoming a major part of Kenya's economy, many young Maasai have turned to protecting lions, elephants, rhinos, and other iconic African animals.  Javelin throwing contests provide the young men a chance to earn prize money as well as show off his prowess.

 

Rungu

So, we are participating in a much smaller version of the Maasai Olympics.

 

 

First up is rungu throwing.   A target is set up with a basket attached behind it to receive the rungu, which is a hand-carved long stick with a hard knob on its end.  

 

I did okay once I threw a couple and got the feel of the rungu’s weight and balance.    Not great, but I did make a basket or two.   Randy did very well.  

 

The archery target is at the left.   We stood ridiculously close to all the targets.

Up next was archery.  I practiced western-style archery when I was younger but this archery was different in a couple aspects:  the bow is not held vertical but at a 45 degree angle tilted  to the right and the arrow is placed on the left side of the bow string.

I did well.   I would have had three bulls eyes had one arrow not hit an arrow already in the target.   I think it was Sylvia who did exceptionally well.

It was too dark for throwing the spear by the time that came around.

 

This was a hoot!   Everyone who wanted to participate did.   The sun set while we were pretending to be warriors and many of my photos with my cell phone did not turn out.

 

Nonetheless, Marg captured these videos:

 

 

Pointing to my two bullseyes.   What would have been a third is lying on the ground after hitting another arrow.

And with that, Randy and his Six Wives returned to Finch Hatton luxury resort where we dined a fresco under a full moon, entertained by a bushbaby dashing about the roof tops and serenaded by the sweet song of a tiny nightjar.

***

Red-headed agama

We got a peek at two elephants here.   This one.....

...and her calf.

Gray-headed kingfisher.

A couple zebra.

Maybe a pet hyrax isn't such a good idea.   Look at those teeth.