Taking on Tsavo

One glorious day, we embarked on a day of exploration in the truest sense. We weren’t searching for anything in particular, and that freedom allowed the journey itself to take centre stage. As we drove, the Chyulu Hills drew closer, their shapes growing bolder and more dramatic with every kilometre. The landscape seemed to open up, rolling and expansive, especially lush after several days of rain.

Our first sighting inside the Park was a pair of fringe-eared oryx, resting beneath a bush in the shade, escaping the heat of the day. Their pale coats and elegant markings were striking. For many of us — guests and camera lenses alike — this was a first-ever oryx sighting of any species. We spent a few quiet minutes with them before moving on, grateful for such a special introduction to Tsavo.

The landscape continued to impress as we made our way toward the Shetani Lava Flow. At first sight, it was breathtaking. Vast fields of frozen magma stretched out before us, deep blacks and browns cutting sharply against rolling green hills and distant ridges. The contrast was dramatic, raw, and undeniably beautiful as we spotted some klipspringers perched on the volcanic rocks.

Not long after leaving the lava flow behind, we were treated to one of the most iconic sights, the famous red elephants of Tsavo. Three bulls emerged, their skins richly stained by the park’s iron-red soil. From a distance, one immediately stood out: a large bull carrying a single bright tusk, his other long since lost. For a moment, we wondered if it might be One Ton, the well-known Super Tusker of the Chyulu Hills, familiar to many through Big Life’s stories.

As we drew closer, it became clear this was not him. Still, there was no doubt that this bull had once been a Super Tusker himself. Standing there, dusted red and calm in presence, it felt like a privilege to witness these giants in their element, living symbols of Tsavo, shaped and coloured by the land they call home.

From there, we continued to Mzima Springs, stopping briefly to explore the crystal-clear waters. We watched fish drifting past at eye level from the underwater viewing chamber and spotted hippos resting nearby, half-submerged and unbothered by our presence.

We made our way toward the newly commissioned Ngulia Rhino Sanctuary, recently opened by the President of Kenya. While hopeful, we knew the chances of seeing a black rhino were slim. Elusive and heat-averse, these browsers spend much of their day tucked away in thick bush, and true to form, they remained hidden.

Still, the sanctuary offered its own rewards. Giraffes rested peacefully under a baobab tree, with rolling hills layered softly behind them, as some vulturine guinea fowls foraged the dirt for their day's sustenance. We lingered, learning from the rangers and simply absorbing the scale and calm of the place.

As the sun began to dip, we turned back toward the gate. The Chyulu Hills caught the last light of the day, glowing in warm golds and deep ambers. Against this dramatic backdrop, a small group of hartebeest came into view, their brown-orange coats sharp against the hills, perfectly placed in the fading light.

By the time we reached the gate, the light had shifted again. Sunset melted into blue hour, and the Chyulu Hills softened beneath a veil of blue haze and low-lying mist. The landscape felt hushed, almost suspended in time. And just as we began our journey home, the full Wolf Moon rose behind us, sealing in a great day of exploring. From first light to moonrise, a day guided by curiosity and rewarded by the land.