Mobile camp allows guests to access parts of legendary reserve that not many get to see
George has waited four hours for us at Seronera airstrip. We’ve driven with Serengeti Balloon Safaris into the Serengeti through Nabi Gate and have encountered the pedantry of Tanzanian park officials. In his stately way, George says, “I’m sorry you’ve had a taste of our government.” A brilliant burst of gold, as masked weavers flash in and out of nests on the tree drooping over the Wilderness Usawa vehicle stationed at the airstrip, starts to improve the atmosphere. George has been guiding for almost 30 years. Before that, he was a poacher! Which makes him, now, excessively cautious about the law. So, he drives at the official speed limit: 25km/h. We aren’t heading to camp, though, as is the norm after a pick-up. Usawa is a mobile camp, so the protocol is different.
It’s Sunday and the animals are on their weekend off, but the weavers come and heckle us at lunch. It’s a sandwich, not the bonanza out of a buxom hamper that guests at fancy lodges become accustomed to. It hasn’t quite landed yet that a mobile camp is about the wilderness and not about luxury, which safaris nowadays have become synonymous with. Our vehicle carries wine, but no corkscrew. A reluctant George knifes down the cork.
We reach camp, eventually… It takes a while because George must again adhere to the speed limit, but also because Usawa is delightfully remote, tucked far away in the eastern Serengeti. However, following the migration, the camp will relocate to the southern Serengeti.
Camp staff greet guests at a smart, slick, and strikingly compact main tent showcasing a lounge and dining area. Our sleeping tent, too, is remarkably compact, rigged out luxuriously for a mobile unit. There are beautiful copper basins, but no taps. Beds are ample, plump with duvets, but almost touching the tent’s net walls, so wintry winds lash and buffet the protective flaps over the net. Mum is alarmed that there’s no fireplace, and this is my first experience of bucket showers. If I’ve deplored chichi safari camps with their crystal chandeliers and bone china and denigrated those who just want hedonism in the jungle with the odd lion thrown in, my purported enthusiasm for a genuine wilderness experience is now being tested.
In the heights
The most wondrous thing about Usawa is waking to breakfasts set by the campfire against the rising sun. As it illuminates the pristine landscape, camp chefs toss cheese toast made on the campfire hot-hot onto plates. Coffee gurgles in a kettle hung over the campfire.
George is rushed. The point of a mobile camp is not to linger in camp but maximize time in the wild. Unlike elsewhere, guests aren’t being enticed to luxuriate in camp around the pool, spa, and bar, as there aren’t any. George is taking us to Gol Kopjes, a mysterious part of the Serengeti accessed for an additional fee. Don’t let rangers catch you there if you haven’t a permit, George chuckles… Passing mighty herds of elephants surrounding their babies and black groups of buffalo, we see a posse of topis, hartebeest, and zebras gazing intently in a certain direction. Big cats, is the deduction. But the herbivores soon relax: it’s an injured cheetah, unable to hunt, with three cubs. She lost the fourth, George says. The starved survivors are so feeble they totter heartbreakingly.
The vast Gol Kopjes, flecked with tree-crowned rock obtrusions, beckons invitingly for lunch. A lioness dozes under a bush. As we circle the kopjes, a couple of other camouflaged lions raise their flowing heavy heads. Carpeted on the volcanic rocks is another trio of lionesses… There’s already a party here and we don’t want to be their lunch, so we set off in quest of another idyllic spot.
We find another paradisal spot. Surprise, surprise, there’s a lion – huge, and staring us straight in the eyes. But he looks away, bored. His brothers, languishing under the umbrella of some nearby trees, don’t deign to look up. Pulling away, we note a scatter of lions perched almost ornamentally on the rocks. Lions clearly have fine taste in picnic spots.
Pressing pause
George is getting impatient and parks a safe distance away, overlooking the lions. There’ll be time enough to jump into the vehicle, should they saunter our way. But the lazy creatures don’t. So lunch passes without adventure: bottled barley and spinach salad rubied with pomegranate and bedded on cheese. There’s no corkscrew again, but George is now adept at knifing down corks!
As we reach the road leading to camp, lacing the road is a pride of no less than nine lions. In the Serengeti, they just fling themselves your way. A majestic lioness sneaks away and scrutinizes her surroundings. As the sun spreads orange onto billowing tufts of dusky clouds, the lioness dunks her head between outstretched legs, sliding one ahead of the other with velvet stealth. Her sister wakes and follows suit. Then follow the seven cubs. In single file they tread, with what guile they have, bellies almost grazing the ground. We follow until George observes that there’s no lion food around and camp is still an hour away!
George is ready to race, relatively speaking. He doesn’t want trouble with the rangers. Just as he gears up, the curtain of dusk opens to reveal a female leopard. They apparently don’t exist in the eastern Serengeti, but she persists with grace and style, sauntering on , as if on a catwalk. Stop, pose, proceed… She too is hunting. George is anxious about the rangers. He revs the engine, and the leopard leaps out of the road into the bushes and vanishes like a dream. George is ready to go, again. But now four baby bat-eared foxes manifest, as if from under the car! We’ve been out for 13 hours already! When the foxes finally show compassion for George and trot away into the dark fringes of the road, a hare springs into the action.
We reach camp at 8:30 pm. The other guests are patiently sipping dawas, waiting for us.
The next morning, George reveals that the rangers came by to inquire about why he was out after hours. He told them, “We got stuck. My guests will confirm!” To be fair, there was a traffic jam of nine lions, a leopardess, four bat-eared foxes, and a marsh hare in our way…
Text | Devanshi Mody Photography | Malicky S Boaz
For more information or to book a stay, go to wildernessdestinations.com.
