Tarangire National Park

This morning after fortification with coffee and porridge by the campfire, we headed out for a walking safari. We haven’t previously visited parks that allow this, although it is very popular in Zambia in particular. We have seen game from closed cars (popping up through the roof like demented marmots), open cars (better sight lines exchanged for increased dust), makoro canoes, motorboats, small bush planes, and elephant-back, and so perhaps it was time to try our own two feet. Naturally this also involves park rangers with rifles, a step more than even our lovely camp guards who patrol with a varied supply of spears, bows and arrows, rifles, and (literally) poisoned darts. It was initially intimidating seeing the long grasses at eye level rather than from the comfortable distance of a Land Cruiser; those inches seemed even more substantial when we considered how hard it can be to spot wildlife in the savannah even from that vantage point. And now they were hidden in these same waving grasses. Hmmm. We walked in a tight group, passing some impala, zebra, and wildebeest 30 or 40 feet away. We paused to investigate a sausage tree (and the many bugs its fruit attracts) and learned not to stand directly underneath its spreading branches. Why? The gigantic heavy fruit could fall without warning and could easily cause dramatic damage. Also leopards like them. Carefully scanning the branches, we were reassured by the calm shown by the nearby zebra. They are smart, so if they weren't alarmed, I decided not to be, either. Then again, they could have been counting on outrunning these curious and clumsy two-legged fools. The sausage tree flowers were beautiful, large burgundy blossoms, their bases riddled with tiny holes from feeding hummingbirds. Even after falling, they contain lots of water, good for browsers trying to avoid the few watering holes. As we moved on, we merged with the zebra herd for a while, enjoying their dubious looks as we passed by, their tails flicking away flies and their ears rotating to hear threats over our noise. A bit further on, we noticed a potential cause for concern — a male lion sitting in a clear patch, eyeing the zebra with a slightly bored but still interested air. We were at least 100 meters away, but it was disconcerting to see him at eye level, no fences or gates or even tents between us. I concentrated on being as minimally delectable appearing as possible. We took in the scene; lion to the right, zebra to the left, eyeing each other; then we noticed that beyond the lion there were two safari vehicles, their occupants training their cameras and binoculars in our direction. One gentleman appeared to be sipping on a beer from the cooler. Steve suggested they had spotted us and were hoping for dinner and a show. Sorry to disappoint, but we moved on and the lion seemed to decide a nap was in order after all that exhausting sitting in one place. Besides, I had no doubt that being erudite lions of the tourist area, they likely preferred French food.

We returned to our very secure feeling open cars, a bit mud-splattered but uneaten if you discount insects. In the afternoon, we caught a large herd of elephant heading in for their mid-day wallow and spa. A bit later we discovered where the leopard had gone, finding one draped over a tree branch like a slightly thick rug. He was even less motivated to move than the lion, barely twitching an ear as we admired his lovely fur from a respectful distance. We also heard, but did not see, a cheetah.