Stereotypes generally fit

Loliondo 2005



Stereotypes generally fit, and this group were no exception. They loved to talk, and especially to laugh, with a cigarette or cigar in one hand and a glass of whine in the other. However they were happy to be up before dawn and were champing at the bit after a very light breakfast with lots of caffeine. I learned that one must shake hands as you great each other for the first time in the day every morning. On both the mornings we went walking we were out of camp and on our way before the sun had risen. A rear treat for me. It is defiantly true, wherever you are on safari, that the best game viewing is at the break of day as activity switches over from nocturnal to diurnal and herbivores have heads down grazing allowing easier approach.

Our first walk took us five kilometres along the Grumeschin ridge with the sweeping view over much of the Serengeti to the west and the Loliondo high plateau to the east. A resent burn, now green, was teaming with grazers in the distance. We disturbed east African mountain reedbuck and glassed herds of eland, Thomson’s and Grant’s gazelle, impala, wildebeest, topi, zebra and hartebeest on the plains below.

As the Thompson Gazelle and Wildebeest had gathered into small groups and were moving north out of the Alaroi area. The tommy in nervous fleety tight little bunches with the striking side stripes pointing neatly forward. John, the local Maasai assistant guide, and I decided we should go south West to the Mollelyan kopjies for the second walk.

A few days previously we had walked the same route through the sculpted kopjies neatly arraigned in parkland, but had seen little game. We did hear the distant rolling thunder of hooves as a large heard of buffalo caught our wind and stormed off unseen. We had also found several thousand wildebeest in the vicinity however there were only a couple of small-bedraggled looking herds of stragglers left, heading west with the sun. The area is drying out very fast now and despite several attempts at cloud building, the Lake Victoria weather system has failed to reach Loliondo.


It was a chilsom ride in the open pickup with everybody huddled under red chequered maasai blankets. Striding away from the car at pace to warm our limbs we soon saw a dark heard of buff in the distance across the flood plain where the Alamana riverrine fig and fever trees run parallel to another large nameless korongo (seasonal river ditch). As we crossed the nameless Korongo a bull chased another from the herd at full steam. The ejected bull moseyed in our direction ambling about as we watched safe behind a huge grey fever tree log. As he came down wind of us it was as if he had walked into a wall. His massive bulk froze as he inhaled our disturbing odour.

After he had galloped off, stopping twice to turn and seek us out, we marched on along the game trails through tall seeding red oats grass towards Mollolyan. The buff herd ambled off across the Alamana to be met with later, I hoped, when we would swing into the wind and have cover. From a distance I saw two buffalo bulls grazing up against one of the kopjies. I guessed there would be more about and swung further west in order to circle in on the kopjies and korongo convergence into the wind.

Soon more and more buffalo came into view. And then more again. We stalked in and onto a small mound of granite boulders. As we came to the top strewn about in the scene before us were hundreds on hundreds of grazing buffalo. We were surrounded by them as a bull and cow wandered, oblivious to our presence, behind the mound a few yards bellow. A few were lying down chewing their cud but most were wandering about munching grass. Every now and then one would low, the deep grumbling call, or grunt and run from a real or imagined threat. We later decided on a thousand and a half in different groups spread through the square kilometre in front of us. I was beaming with pleasure.

John hissed and pointed, grinning too. On a massive solid granite mound five hundred meters away were five lion laying about surveying the scene with little alarm. A huge male stared across the gap at us, unconcerned. It was beautiful and I was having a good day.

Once everybody was over the shock and pictured out we had tea and coffee. As we did some of the herds were starting to get our cent and those seventy yards away becoming aware of our presents, especially after a very angry little dik dik buck whistled at is shrilly. They were also smelling lion across the way and trotting about nervously. There were hundreds of fat red calves shadowing the cows.

The lions suddenly became interested in something on the far side of their kopjie and slunk of out of view leaving one lioness to keep a disinterested eye on us. The buffalo gradually trotted south and we came down from the mound to continue around the wind and the kopjies, instead of wandering through the kopjies and around all those blind corners as I had planed. We kept clear of the thick cover but had a nervous walk through the thicket lined Alamana. A single straggler buffalo bull strolled across our path thirty meters ahead and lay down in a thicket. He ran off as we gave him wide berth and then as we walked past the nearest kopjie the sentry lioness turned and fled at fifty meters through the whistling thorn. There were cubs about to and my “time to go” was received with a little releaf.

We crossed back over the Alamana and called the car, to drive back to camp, having seen enough to fill the day.