The Kenya Journals, Ch. 31: Guess Who's Coming for Breakfast

I am almost late for breakfast even though it’s still dark outside the windows of the Denys Finch Hatton suite in Giraffe Manor, near Naiorobi, Kenya.   I dress quickly, brush my teeth, grab my camera and head outside.

The guests are already there and I can just make them out in the gloom of morning.   Two—or maybe it was three—are standing outside and have their heads stuck in the windows of Giraffe Manor.  This is what I’ve come to see.

Nothing like coming upon a giraffe or two in the dark....

But at least it's a frendly one.

I needn’t have worried that our breakfast guests would be late because they almost never sleep.   Adult giraffes sleep about a half hour a day, in small minutes-long naps.   Young giraffes sleep in naps that amount to about two hours a day.

I enter the small breakfast room. Several giraffe heads are sticking through the windows.   The animals are eating their beloved pellets and the hotel guests are happily obliging.  This is why people come to Giraffe Manor, to interact one on one with these beautiful creatures.

Later, we are escorted to a different dining room and seated for a lovely breakfast.   In no time at all, I feel a warm breath on the back of my neck and a steward hastens over with pellets.    I hope it wasn’t Kelly the head-basher, or Daisy, who is also known for love taps.   Ed would be nice, and I’m not sure, but I think it is Ed.

Greg and Charlie at left.

Hello, Kind Peoples.   I see you have giraffe candy.

The giraffes have new boundaries for breakfast.   The low gate is open and the rock ledge means nothing.  The giraffes are free to roam where they like and mooch pellets from each and every window that opens to them.   In a few places where hotel guests walk, there are very low fences, about a foot high, and the giraffes respect those boundaries, too.   Not so the warthogs.

Greg

Thankfully, we do not run out of pellets for the giraffes while we eat breakfast.  Seated with my back to the open window, I frequently feel that exquisite warm breath on the back of my neck, and—remembering Kelly’s head bashing impatience—am quick to respond to the hints.

This one knows what's in the stainless steel bowls.

Greg swapping spit with a giraffe.

The lounge by day.

Soon, though, it is time to check out of this exquisite boutique hotel and go off on another adventure.  In fact, our whole day will be full of adventures until, late at night, we catch our plane for the journey home.

In the main lobby, we sign the guest book and say one more goodbye to a giraffe.

We pause at the gate for photos and then are off to visit some orphans and I am so looking forward to that!

Charlie, left and Greg.

Farewell, Giraffe Manor.

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The room where we had breakfast is at left on the first floor.   Our suite is just visible beyond that.

This guy loved what I did.   Got his email address and sent it to him.

Carlie and Greg

Greg

The Kenya Journals, Ch. 30: High Tea with Long Necks

The temperature on the terrace of boutique hotel Giraffe Manor in Nairobi, Kenya, is just right, neither too hot nor too cool.   Late afternoon sunshine casts lengthening shadows and tints the light with amber.

I’m sitting on one of the shaded settees and on the glass table in front of me are a plate of demi-sandwiches under glass and two bowls of pellets made from corn, wheat, grass and a secret ingredient that the giraffes apparently can’t get enough of--molasses.

Behind me is a table set for high tea and plates of assorted cookies and other munchies.

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There are no giraffes in sight and for a moment I wonder if we will be stood up.   Then a staff member, dressed in a wine-red shirt and tan slacks, approaches the low stone wall that delineates the terrace, or patio, from the front lawn.  

“Ed!” he says loudly.   “Big Ed.   Come, Big Ed!”    He taps on the stainless steel bowl he holds.

I watch the distant fields for sight of a giraffe, and there he is, approaching with those long graceful strides that can cover up to 15 feet in a single stride.   Soon, the other giraffes join Ed at the rock wall.  

Rothschilds giraffes are the tallest of thegiraffes, with males reaching 18 feet high.

 

The low iron gate is closed, and the giraffes respect this boundary, unlike the resident warthogs that climb the rocks right around the gate.  Warthogs like pellets, too.   Staff frequently chases the hogs away, but they come right back.

One excellent reason why the staff tries to keep the warthogs away from the guests.  The large "wart" that protrudes near the eye enables the hog to lie on its side and have its head in a reasonably comfortable position.

The dropped pellets bring the warthogs.

Yes, they have "black" tongues.  

Charlie checking his camera settings.

Giraffes have extra tight skin on their legs that helps maintain blood pressure in their entire body, much like a pilot's G suit.

Pellets in hand, we guests are soon feeding the giraffes, and I’m careful to determine which one is the head-butting Kelly, the matriarch of this tower of Rothschilds giraffes.

The Rothschilds are the tallest of the giraffe species.   Males can weigh up to 3000 lbs. and females can weigh up to 2600 lbs.

 

I also watch out for Daisy, the displaced matriarch, who is also know for getting someone’s attention by “gently” tapping the side of a human heads and knocking them silly.

Greg

I've turned into a giraffe!

Later, long after the giraffes are fed and have wandered back to their fields, Greg, Charlie, and I meet in the lounge before dinner.   We are offered cocktails, and I choose a glass of Amarula, a sweet, creamy liqueur made from the fruit of the marula tree, which has been aged and distilled for three years, then mixed with cream.

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Compared with Bailey’s, which one wag called watered down chocolate milk after tasting Amarula, this liqueur with an alcohol content of 17 per cent, is described as tasting like “chocolate-dipped strawberries with hints of mango, vanilla and caramel.”    It is delicious.

Elephants like the yellow marula fruit, too, and will travel miles when they smell the aroma of ripe fruit.   Then, they put their massive foreheads against the truck of the tree and shake the tree to displace the fruits.

A steward appears and escorts up into a private dining room where a table is set and lighted with candlelight. 

The dinner is delicious, but the appetizer, or maybe it’s the salad course, is especially so.   It is a ball of sweetened rice, roughly the size of a tennis ball, with a crisp crust as if it had been baked or deep-fried.  

 

Two of our dinner companions.  They will leave in the morning to join a group to climb Mt.Kilamanjaro.

Our other two companions.

And then, it was off to our suite and early to bed because we are expecting guests for an early breakfast.

A hoopoe.

Charlie and a giraffe.

The horns on giraffe are actually called ossicones.   Rothschilds, male and female, have two on top of their heads, one on the forehead, and one each behind their ears.   Both male and female start out with tufts of hair on their primary ossicones, but those of males usually become hairless and much fighting.

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The young giraffes haven't yet discovered the joys of pellets.

They much prefer munching on the ornamental plants around the manor.