The next day starts with the departure from Mtuwambo, also known as the Mosquito River, the village where we camped overnight.
Mtuwambo is impressive in that there are canal ditches on the side of the road that are bridged by walkways for pedestrians, all designed and financed by the Japanese years back. Cross the bridge, and there is a wide sidewalk used by pedestrians and cyclists alike. It seems people in this village don't use cars as much, simply because they don't feel the need to.
There is nothing here they can't grow. Rice, bananas, watermelons, mangos, you name it. Throw in the livestock, and it's hard to imagine these people ever going hungry. The area around Mtuwambo is lush, as green a place as you will find anywhere in Tanzania. We climb a road that leads us past Manyara National Park, named after the lake that is nearby.
From where we are standing at the top of the mountain, we can see for miles despite the heavy rain showers that are already causing roaring floods in the area. People stop their bicycles or motorcycles to admire the swollen rivers crashing across the barriers. When we reach the top, we are on part of a mountain chain that stretches for 4,500 miles, or all the way to Egypt.
It takes us another hour to reach the Ngorongoro crater, the 'Garden of Eden', as people call it around here. At the visitors' center, they introduce the Big 5 of the wilderness: the lion, the rhinoceros, the elephant, the cape buffalo, and the leopard. Are these really the Big 5, ranked by size? Hardly - a giraffe, a hippo, or a crocodile are much bigger than a leopard. But then, we need to remember that this ranking was compiled by hunters, who rank animals according to value. And then it makes sense. A leopard's skin is, so it appears, more valuable than a hippo head.
It doesn't take long until we realize what people mean by Ngorongoro being the Garden of Eden. At the rim of the 17x20 km crater, you can't help but be in awe of the sight below you. Lush green landscape everywhere, dotted by wildebeest grazing in its midst. Think of it as seeing the Grand Canyon, with the exception that it is green and as life affirming as the Promised Land when it was first sighted. With all of the animals here, it feels like this is where Noah's ark landed.
On the side of the crater there is a monument, a tribute to ten people who were killed after dedicating (and eventually losing) their lives protecting wildlife. One killed in a car accident, another in a plane crash, the others shot by poachers and bandits. I wonder how low you really can get as a poacher. Not only are these people capable of killing endangered species, but the people who protect them.
We continue onwards, away from civilization. From here on out, it is Maasai villages. You will see groups of them dancing by the side of the road, their faces painted white and the scanty cloth covering them in this relatively chilly area. The Maasai here are allowed to lead their herds into Ngorongoro to graze freely. They were here long before any tourists were aware that the place even existed.
Finally, we complete our descent, and again the countryside opens up before us. There is lush, green flatland as far as the eye can see. This is almost like a zoo, but minus the walls, fences, and other manmade barriers. There are no zookeepers, only animals frolicking in the green, although still keeping one eye on the jackal running past them, or the pride of lions at the edge of the crater. A place like this has water, and plenty of it despite the receding lakes due to the recent precipitation shortage. It is hard to make out all of the wildlife here. In the distance a herd of elephants is approaching.
I adjust my binoculars, and there is the missing member of the Big 5 I have yet to encounter in Africa, the rhino. The rhino is all by itself, and the other grazing animals give it the space they feel it deserves. It is amazing, when you consider that these animals are bunched together in such a relatively small area.
Compared to the Serengeti, this amounts to a park, albeit one that hardly offers any tall grass, bushes, or trees for predators. And yet, the green grass looks so inviting to these animals, along with the watering hole nearby. There can be little doubt that the fun and games take on a new meaning with the nightfall; but during the day, this must be as good a place as any for a grazing herd.
On the way back to Kilimanjaro, we visit a snake farm. Yep, one that features all of those beautiful but venomous creatures that kill you as quickly as the time it takes to spot one.
There are both mambas (green and black), the cobras, and the puff adders. The adders are particularly feared, because they don't move nearly as fast as the mambas. You will not happen upon a puff adder until you are literally stepping on it. Although the mambas may be more deadly, they will not bite you unless there is simply no other way out. I marvel at the color of the green mamba. An animal or plant doesn't get any greener than that.
At Kilimanjaro Airport, it is time to bid farewell to Masagi, our guide for our entire stay up north. For Masagi, it's on to the next trip and back to the Serengeti within a week. For us, it's back to the hustle and bustle of Bongo, with a couple of suitcases in our hands loaded with light clothing, and now a brilliant new book of memories.
Mtuwambo is impressive in that there are canal ditches on the side of the road that are bridged by walkways for pedestrians, all designed and financed by the Japanese years back. Cross the bridge, and there is a wide sidewalk used by pedestrians and cyclists alike. It seems people in this village don't use cars as much, simply because they don't feel the need to.
There is nothing here they can't grow. Rice, bananas, watermelons, mangos, you name it. Throw in the livestock, and it's hard to imagine these people ever going hungry. The area around Mtuwambo is lush, as green a place as you will find anywhere in Tanzania. We climb a road that leads us past Manyara National Park, named after the lake that is nearby.
From where we are standing at the top of the mountain, we can see for miles despite the heavy rain showers that are already causing roaring floods in the area. People stop their bicycles or motorcycles to admire the swollen rivers crashing across the barriers. When we reach the top, we are on part of a mountain chain that stretches for 4,500 miles, or all the way to Egypt.
It takes us another hour to reach the Ngorongoro crater, the 'Garden of Eden', as people call it around here. At the visitors' center, they introduce the Big 5 of the wilderness: the lion, the rhinoceros, the elephant, the cape buffalo, and the leopard. Are these really the Big 5, ranked by size? Hardly - a giraffe, a hippo, or a crocodile are much bigger than a leopard. But then, we need to remember that this ranking was compiled by hunters, who rank animals according to value. And then it makes sense. A leopard's skin is, so it appears, more valuable than a hippo head.
It doesn't take long until we realize what people mean by Ngorongoro being the Garden of Eden. At the rim of the 17x20 km crater, you can't help but be in awe of the sight below you. Lush green landscape everywhere, dotted by wildebeest grazing in its midst. Think of it as seeing the Grand Canyon, with the exception that it is green and as life affirming as the Promised Land when it was first sighted. With all of the animals here, it feels like this is where Noah's ark landed.
On the side of the crater there is a monument, a tribute to ten people who were killed after dedicating (and eventually losing) their lives protecting wildlife. One killed in a car accident, another in a plane crash, the others shot by poachers and bandits. I wonder how low you really can get as a poacher. Not only are these people capable of killing endangered species, but the people who protect them.
We continue onwards, away from civilization. From here on out, it is Maasai villages. You will see groups of them dancing by the side of the road, their faces painted white and the scanty cloth covering them in this relatively chilly area. The Maasai here are allowed to lead their herds into Ngorongoro to graze freely. They were here long before any tourists were aware that the place even existed.
Finally, we complete our descent, and again the countryside opens up before us. There is lush, green flatland as far as the eye can see. This is almost like a zoo, but minus the walls, fences, and other manmade barriers. There are no zookeepers, only animals frolicking in the green, although still keeping one eye on the jackal running past them, or the pride of lions at the edge of the crater. A place like this has water, and plenty of it despite the receding lakes due to the recent precipitation shortage. It is hard to make out all of the wildlife here. In the distance a herd of elephants is approaching.
I adjust my binoculars, and there is the missing member of the Big 5 I have yet to encounter in Africa, the rhino. The rhino is all by itself, and the other grazing animals give it the space they feel it deserves. It is amazing, when you consider that these animals are bunched together in such a relatively small area.
Compared to the Serengeti, this amounts to a park, albeit one that hardly offers any tall grass, bushes, or trees for predators. And yet, the green grass looks so inviting to these animals, along with the watering hole nearby. There can be little doubt that the fun and games take on a new meaning with the nightfall; but during the day, this must be as good a place as any for a grazing herd.
On the way back to Kilimanjaro, we visit a snake farm. Yep, one that features all of those beautiful but venomous creatures that kill you as quickly as the time it takes to spot one.
There are both mambas (green and black), the cobras, and the puff adders. The adders are particularly feared, because they don't move nearly as fast as the mambas. You will not happen upon a puff adder until you are literally stepping on it. Although the mambas may be more deadly, they will not bite you unless there is simply no other way out. I marvel at the color of the green mamba. An animal or plant doesn't get any greener than that.
At Kilimanjaro Airport, it is time to bid farewell to Masagi, our guide for our entire stay up north. For Masagi, it's on to the next trip and back to the Serengeti within a week. For us, it's back to the hustle and bustle of Bongo, with a couple of suitcases in our hands loaded with light clothing, and now a brilliant new book of memories.
