Mara to the Senses

My first safari started with a rush of anticipation — bags packed before dawn, heart racing, and my mind filled with scenes from documentaries and Disney movies. What the Mara taught me is that magic isn't just in the grand spectacles — it's also in the details that whisper rather than roar ... But first let me take you back.

My colleagues and I set off towards the airport, the crisp morning clinging to our skin. Exhaustion from the early morning quickly dissolved as we boarded.

Ducking and twisting into our seats, the engines growled to life. With a sudden jolt, we were airborne, Nairobi sprawling below — a maze of rooftops and bustling streets melting into snug villages, cooking fires, and, finally vast plains stretching endlessly. 

My colleagues’ chatter competed with the hum of the engines, but I was transfixed by the view below. Buildings faded and only the delicate tracery of animal paths remained: we had arrived in the Maasai Mara.  

As the doors creaked open, warm, humid air flooded the cabin, thick with the scent of rain-soaked soil and acacia trees. I felt the Mara before my feet even touched the ground.

Joyous ‘jambos’ and ‘karibus’ were exchanged as the aeroplane engine cooled down awaiting its next passengers. Snapping me out of my reverie, our Guide, Eric, swept up our bags and escorted us to the vehicle.

As rolling clouds shifted shadows over the plains, the air felt charged with quiet anticipation, and as if on cue, a deep, wet, grassy smell lifted our noses — leading us straight to a herd of elephants less than 50 metres away.  

Continuing, we climbed up the escarpment, casually passing herders moving steadily with their cattle. Slowly, the pieces of Angama Mara I had only imagined fell into place as we arrived to warm greetings from the team.  

Elated with fuzzy feelings, Camp Manager George led us to the deck to share the ins and outs as we sipped iced lemon water. A breeze curled around us, and an eagle lifted higher in the air before spiralling down with a high-pitched call that carried through the Guest Area. 

We strolled to our tents, as stones crushed with every step, ahead leaves rustled and out jumped a little dik-dik. As if welcoming me to what be my home for the next few days.

Inside my tent, the silence gave me a moment to take everything in and notice that every stitch was meticulously crafted, its dainty patterns soft beneath my fingertips. The faint scent of canvas mingled with the woody aroma of surrounding trees, and a gentle breeze stirred the walls — a reminder that only canvas separated me from the wilderness.  

I was swimming in a sensory overload, yet utterly at peace. For those stepping into the wild for the first time — or even the tenth — remember that safari is more than what you see. The air tastes different before sunrise; thickens as a storm rumbles closer. Hyenas whoop in the night as you sink into a bath. Take in the luxury of uninterrupted quiet and hear the whisper of the smaller details.