Serengeti in the Off Season
You gotta love it when people at the hotels, in the cars, or at the national park offices pronounce that it is the off season. This is not some hotel on the Costa Brava in Spain that adjusts rates according to the weather or whenever their parents can pull their kids out of school. The fact is, in the Serengeti life will continue with or without the tourist, something it has managed to do before there was such a person.
This time around, I find the off season to be highly advantageous. Think about it: the three hour wait at the entrances of Ngorogoro or the Serengeti magically disappears, and you are past those big wooden droparms as quickly as a cheetah on the heels of a gazelle. More time on safari, less time waiting in line. That works every time, in any off season, but particularly so when it comes to game parks.
We don’t see any evidence of an off season at all. I admit there has been remarkably little rain as of late, which to a large degree dictates where the animals move, in particular the herds like the wildebeest or the zebras. Serengeti around this time means fewer cars, which is really not a bad thing. Okay, so you don’t have the flocking advantage, as I call it, meaning you can’t spot bunches of cars that will evidently be scouting out something big, like a leopard mother with her cubs, or the cheetah feasting on a fresh kill. The best safaris are when you follow the herds or, in the predator’s case, stalking them carefully.
We get up at 5:30 on the first day and drag ourselves to the waiting Landcruiser. The kids don’t care to see another zebra, wildebeest, lion, or any other creature not featuring in Plants vs. Zombies. If they could steer the animals and equip them with rocket launchers, then we could permanently say bye bye to the iPad, but as it is, the animals only have so much of an appeal.
Right off the bat, we run into a couple of hippos who had been grazing in the high grass. Even the hippos know that they are vulnerable in the grass. Although rare, it is not unheard of for prides of lions to attack grazing hippos. The moment they see the light of the Landcruiser, they break cover and dash off to the nearest pond. Soon it will be daylight and piping hot, which is why the hippos are ready to settle in the water for the day.
A little further up the road, MT stops the car. A honey badger scampers across the road with its jerky, spasmodic motions, its nose slightly above the ground. It is very rare these are sighted, but I always wanted to see one and wonder what the Serengeti can offer for an encore. The honey badger, on the face of it, is not a big animal, but pound for pound the toughest in the Serengeti. This is not an animal you mess with, as entire prides of lions and packs of hyenas have learned. With its low center of gravity, the honey badger is a formidable foe. At times, they appear like a set of sharp teeth propped up on four stout legs. The honey badger is insatiable and looks for food almost every waking hour. It will eat anything it can get a hold of. To snakes, whether it’s the 15 foot python or the five foot black mamba, honey badgers are walking nightmares. There is no escaping a honey badger once it’s clamped its jaws on you.
At daybreak, we spot a couple of hot air balloons in front of the rising sun. We had often heard of these safaris from the sky. One day, maybe. For now, I prefer to watch the animals on the ground. MT’s amazing eyesight continues to amaze me. He can identify the tiniest specks on the horizon. Zebra, wildebeest, water buck, lion. There is no shortage of grazing animals in the Serengeti. What is interesting about the gazelles and the antelopes is how every member of the herd is assigned a post in the circle where they graze. Every angle is covered, should any predator wish to attack. Of course, the top predators have an easier life. Along the road, we watch several packs of hyenas frolic in the mud baths recently created by a few rainshowers. They are lazy, don’t see any need for posting guards, even though there is probably one of them outside the pack for good measure.
The real story of the day occurs once we set our sights on a lone lion wandering the plains.
This time around, I find the off season to be highly advantageous. Think about it: the three hour wait at the entrances of Ngorogoro or the Serengeti magically disappears, and you are past those big wooden droparms as quickly as a cheetah on the heels of a gazelle. More time on safari, less time waiting in line. That works every time, in any off season, but particularly so when it comes to game parks.
We don’t see any evidence of an off season at all. I admit there has been remarkably little rain as of late, which to a large degree dictates where the animals move, in particular the herds like the wildebeest or the zebras. Serengeti around this time means fewer cars, which is really not a bad thing. Okay, so you don’t have the flocking advantage, as I call it, meaning you can’t spot bunches of cars that will evidently be scouting out something big, like a leopard mother with her cubs, or the cheetah feasting on a fresh kill. The best safaris are when you follow the herds or, in the predator’s case, stalking them carefully.
We get up at 5:30 on the first day and drag ourselves to the waiting Landcruiser. The kids don’t care to see another zebra, wildebeest, lion, or any other creature not featuring in Plants vs. Zombies. If they could steer the animals and equip them with rocket launchers, then we could permanently say bye bye to the iPad, but as it is, the animals only have so much of an appeal.
Right off the bat, we run into a couple of hippos who had been grazing in the high grass. Even the hippos know that they are vulnerable in the grass. Although rare, it is not unheard of for prides of lions to attack grazing hippos. The moment they see the light of the Landcruiser, they break cover and dash off to the nearest pond. Soon it will be daylight and piping hot, which is why the hippos are ready to settle in the water for the day.
A little further up the road, MT stops the car. A honey badger scampers across the road with its jerky, spasmodic motions, its nose slightly above the ground. It is very rare these are sighted, but I always wanted to see one and wonder what the Serengeti can offer for an encore. The honey badger, on the face of it, is not a big animal, but pound for pound the toughest in the Serengeti. This is not an animal you mess with, as entire prides of lions and packs of hyenas have learned. With its low center of gravity, the honey badger is a formidable foe. At times, they appear like a set of sharp teeth propped up on four stout legs. The honey badger is insatiable and looks for food almost every waking hour. It will eat anything it can get a hold of. To snakes, whether it’s the 15 foot python or the five foot black mamba, honey badgers are walking nightmares. There is no escaping a honey badger once it’s clamped its jaws on you.
At daybreak, we spot a couple of hot air balloons in front of the rising sun. We had often heard of these safaris from the sky. One day, maybe. For now, I prefer to watch the animals on the ground. MT’s amazing eyesight continues to amaze me. He can identify the tiniest specks on the horizon. Zebra, wildebeest, water buck, lion. There is no shortage of grazing animals in the Serengeti. What is interesting about the gazelles and the antelopes is how every member of the herd is assigned a post in the circle where they graze. Every angle is covered, should any predator wish to attack. Of course, the top predators have an easier life. Along the road, we watch several packs of hyenas frolic in the mud baths recently created by a few rainshowers. They are lazy, don’t see any need for posting guards, even though there is probably one of them outside the pack for good measure.
The real story of the day occurs once we set our sights on a lone lion wandering the plains.
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