Tanzania & Kenya: Even When You Know Africa, She Still Surprises You
Africa has been a recurring chapter in our family story the past few years—different countries, different camps, different eras of wide-eyed wonder. But December in Tanzania and Kenya was something entirely new: it was my sister’s first safari, marking her initial encounter with Africa, and my brothers-in-law’s first in nearly 50 years, making it a rare reunion with the wild continent. It was our first time in the Serengeti and the Masai Mara, two places so storied they almost risk being over-mythologized.
Almost.
This safari still managed to knock the wind out of us.
A Gentle Landing (Before the Wild Begins)
We eased into Africa properly, spending our first night at Legendary Lodge, a colonial coffee plantation outside Arusha. It was the perfect decompression chamber: bird calls instead of alarms, lazy views of the mountains, rich Tanzanian coffee, and the quiet mental shift that happens when you realize schedules no longer matter.
The next morning, we prepared for the adventure ahead, stepping into the small planes that would carry us closer to the wild.
There is something eternally thrilling about lifting off in a light aircraft and landing on a dirt airstrip carved into open savannah, the bush stretching out in all directions as if to say, Right then—let’s begin.
Serengeti Under Canvas: Polished Silver, Hot Buckets, and Hyena Laughter
&Beyond Serengeti Under Canvas is the sort of place that resets your understanding of “luxury.” Canvas walls. Chandeliers. Crisp sheets. Polished silver. And yes—a hot shower bucket, filled by your butler by hand, on request, as steam rises into the African night.
It is indulgent. But when you’re standing under that shower in the dark, looking up at the starry southern sky, listening to hyenas vocalize in the distance, it feels like the only correct way to experience the Serengeti. The sounds carry differently at night—closer, more personal, impossible to ignore.
Then we tucked under a duvet, while animals staged arguments just beyond our tent.
Sleep comes… eventually. Then the sunrise pops through the screen to start the day and our first game drives.
Grumeti: When the Migration Decides to Stay for the Show
We arrived in &Beyond Grumeti knowing the odds. The Great Migration was supposed to have moved on. The calendars said so. The guides warned us gently not to expect miracles.
Africa, apparently, hadn’t checked the schedule.
Instead, we found ourselves in the midst of hundreds of thousands of wildebeest, massed across the plains in numbers so large they distort your sense of scale. The ground in the distance seemed to ripple. The air buzzed. It felt less like watching wildlife and more like witnessing a force of nature briefly pause for dramatic effect.
It was one of those safari moments you don’t announce loudly—you just sit with it, absorbing the luck of being in precisely the right place at exactly the right time.
Leopards, Lions, and Familiar Thrills That Never Get Old
Yes, we’ve seen lions before. But man, it never gets old.
Africa has a way of reminding you that repetition doesn’t dull wonder—it sharpens it.
We saw lions everywhere, often with kills, sprawled in that unmistakably satisfied way that says the hunt went well. Leopards appeared where leopards always do—half-hidden, perfectly placed, effortlessly theatrical.
At one point, a leopard kill inspired a family re-enactment that will never win awards for accuracy but will live forever in memory. Safari has a way of oscillating between reverence and ridiculousness, often within the same hour.
Kenya & Bateleur: Where Old-School Safari Lives On
Crossing into Kenya and landing in the Masai Mara felt like stepping into a sepia-toned photograph—wide skies, acacia silhouettes, and a landscape that seemed to be waiting for you.
&Beyond Bateleur Camp is unapologetically romantic. Fireside evenings. A sense that time has politely slowed down. And just over the next hill? The filming location for Out of Africa, which somehow makes the entire setting feel even more cinematic.
One morning, we traded tires for a wicker basket and took to the sky in a hot-air balloon over the Masai Mara. Drifting silently above the plains at first light, we watched herds stitch patterns across the savannah while the world woke up below us. No engine noise, no commentary—just altitude, perspective, and the quiet realization that Africa is even more impressive when she knows you’re not in a rush.
But there were moments of adrenaline, too.
This was where we tracked a lion hunt at night, the Mara revealing a darker, more electric version of itself. Spotlights cut through the blackness, the air taut with anticipation. Zeebras yelping warnings in the background. It was raw, intense, and unforgettable—the kind of sighting that reminds you this is not a theme park.
Firsts, Familiar Magic, and Africa’s Impeccable Timing
One of the quiet joys of this journey was watching firsts happen again—not our first safaris, but first experiences in these legendary places. The Serengeti. The Masai Mara. The migration in full, thunderous scale.
Even when you know Africa, she finds new ways to introduce herself.
And perhaps the most special thread running through the trip was my sister’s first safari. Watching someone experience Africa for the first time—that stunned silence when a lion appears too close for comfort—is a reminder of why this continent gets under your skin.
Afternoons often ended with a sundowner in the bush, appearing unexpectedly at precisely the right time. Those pauses—drink in hand, sun sinking, dust glowing—are where the day finally settles into you.
This safari reminded us that experience doesn’t dull magic—it refines it. Tanzania and Kenya didn’t try to outdo our previous safaris; they stood confidently in their own greatness and let us come to them.
From bucket showers under canvas to airborne crossings over the savannah, from migration miracles to lions arguing in the dark, this journey didn’t just meet expectations—it quietly, decisively exceeded them.
Africa always does.
