LET THE GAME BEGIN
After entering the Ngorongoro Crater Conservation Area, the road climbs up the outer wall of the crater to reach the top of the wall and skirt the crater. Where it reaches the rim there is a viewpoint (Heroes View, or some such, in memory of rangers killed on duty) which offers the first view of the crater itself.
And spectacular the view is: the bowl of the crater lies 600 m below you and looks, from up there, like the idealised models unscrupulous developers present before building really ugly shopping centres and soul-less apartment blocks. Fortunately, the crater model delivers on its promise, and reaching the crater floor and seeing things up close does nothing to diminish the sense of awe you get from the viewpoint.
Thirty seconds after driving off from the viewpoint Graham, sitting in the back of the truck, squawked "Stop! Reverse!" and there was the first of the "Big Five". The leopard was a magnificent male, giving us a baleful, yellow-eyed glare from about 5 m away as he decided whether to stand his ground or head for cover.
After about 30 seconds he opted for the second option, stopping just before he disappeared as though to say "Here's a last chance for you". Naturally, the photograph will only show his arse as he disappears!
From there the day continued in much the same vein as the videos of Ngorongoro do - the place seems designed to offer First World tourists potted views of the Big Five and a couple of the other minor celebrities.
We saw buffalo as we skirted the crater lip en route to the descent road. Also along the way we saw Masai "warriors" dressed up in all their finery and posing against suitably scenic backdrops in the hope that we'd stop and photograph them and they could charge a suitably outrageous fee. (In Arusha, a curio vendor pestered me for three days in a row to buy a "genuine" Masai knife on the grounds that "many South Africans buy these knives". He wasn't deterred from this line of sales prattle when I told him to find other Seffricans to sell to, trying the same persuasive pitch the next two days running.)
Despite wearing their brightest red genuine Masai blankets - now made in India, traditional masks, carrying genuine Masai spears and hopping up and down in a genuine parody of their traditional dances, the young Masai actors weren't above wearing genuine digital watches and touting openly for photographic fees.
It reminded me of the stories one hears of Disneyland and having your picture taken with "Donald Duck". Now, don't start with that stuff about me being cynical, please!!!!
Into the breach
The road down to the crater floor is steep, rutted and tortuous - sort of like being able to see and smell a really good roast of meat but not being able to taste it! It isn't easy negotiating a really steep, bad road while wanting to stare, slack-jawed, at the view.
We spent the day doing a single circuit of the crater base, getting lost regularly and wondering why they bothered selling a map if it bears no correlation to the roads on the ground.
But the game more than made up whatever navigational deficiencies we discovered in ourselves and the park. We saw the Big Five - a lioness (she looked bored, as if tea break was overlong in arriving!), buffalo (one chose to chew the cud on a shelf above the road and a metre off it, giving us an eyeball to regurgitated, rechewed grass view!), a leopard (I still think it had a cute arse!), elephant (don't get too close, we're not that sort!), and a trio of white rhino (oh, damn, I though we were lying far enough from the road but they've spotted us so I supposed I'll have to get up and play my part!).
The grass stalks
We also saw a trio of cheetah slavering, at a distance, over the highlight of the day (be patient for that one!) before giving half-hearted chase after a hop, skip and jump of Thompson's gazelle. It rather spoils the effect of their patient stalking when the zebra are all standing facing the crouching, creeping, spotty, slinky cheetah with their ears pricked forward and an expression which seemed to say "what are the clowns up to now?"
But at least we had 15 minutes of peace and quiet with the cheetah before the safari operators woke up, radioed each other and arrived like a pack of vultures to present their clients with picture postcard views.
What else did we see? There were white backed vultures, splendid starlings (that's their name - they look like a well done paint-by-numbers picture!), augur buzzards, abdim's storks, ostrich, big fat juicy warthog, Grant's gazelle, kori bustard, Coke's hartebeest (No, they don't have the "ribbon logo" down their side!), mud-caked, pink-eyed slumbering hippo, lesser flamingo (they're more or less flamboyant with the pink outfits), spur winged plover, whole dynasties of crowned cranes, yellow throated sandgrouse, white storks, white backed ravens, black backed jackal, greater eland, rufous tailed and Speke's weavers, lappet-faced vultures, defasso water buck (the arse is completely white rather than the white ring found on the southern African race) and long-toed plovers.
We haven't listed the common birds we've seen throughout our journey, listing only the more uncommon sightings.
Hand to mouth
At the picnic site we stopped at for lunch, a colony of black kites (don't ask where the name comes from - they are brown birds with yellow beaks!) has established itself in the only large tree beside the hippo pool where everyone decamps to scoff whatever their budget provides.
The hawks, having no doubt been introduced to the habit by do-gooder tourists feeding them, having progressed from waiting for offerings to waiting for openings. They now regularly steal people's lunches.
We had been told by a camper at Lake Duluti about one of the birds stealing a chicken drumstick he was passing to a friend. While making our sandwiches at the water's edge and watching the birds soaring out from the tree, we heard a squawk from around the side of Wag 'n B and looked up to see Alison, a travelling companion, hunched over her egg sandwich and spluttering around a mouthful of said sandwich.
When she had finished (spluttering), chewed and swallowed, she explained that one of the black kites had swooped on her as she took a mouthful. "The bloody thing tried to steal the food right out of my mouth!"
The rest of lunch was a unique experience, being equally divided between hunching over our food, like a Quasimodo with a new mouse, and scanning the sky like an air-raid warden in a bad war movie.
Weak kneed experience
The highlight of the day were the wildebeest (gnu, for those from Out of Africa) herds which roamed the crater floor, and particularly the pregnant females. While wildebeest aren't as obviously pregnant as zebra, which take on the appearance of Beryl Cook caricatures and waddle outrageously, once you know what to look for, they aren't hard to spot.
The one's we spent most time watching weren't pregnant anymore - they'd just given birth. Wildebeest females move out of the main herd when they are about to give birth and appear to congregate in small herds of females. The females are able to delay giving birth for up to a month in unfavourable circumstances and they always synchronise birthing so that groups of females give birth within hours, if not minutes, of each other.
We, unfortunately, managed to miss the actual births but did arrive in time to see two of the youngsters taking their very first steps. It really is incredible seeing a 2 foot high wildebeest, still wet from its birth, staggering to its feet and standing as though balancing on giant piece of jelly.
The young stand within 5 minutes of being born and within 5 minutes of standing they are beginning to experiment, bounding unstably around with an expression that appears to say "this is incredible! If I concentrate I can get my legs to move me in the direction I want!"
The young wildebeest are nursed to their feet by the mother, whose muzzle guides them gently and, when junior gets too unsteady, forms a buttress with the youngster held upright, leaning against the mother's forelegs and muzzle.
As confidence grows, the young instinctively find their way to the mother's side, walking just behind her forelegs and, within 10 minutes or so, seeking out her teats between her legs. Within about 30 minutes, mothers and juveniles begin making their way back to the main herd.
A truly amazing experience!
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NEGOTIATING THE CRATERS
Karatu, 2 February 2002
Craters have been the subject of the past couple of days: a crater lake with a stunning campsites, a crater with stunning views and game, and a series of minor craters pretending they were a road.
We've just returned from a day in Ngorongoro Crater and some awesomely easy game viewing but I'm still not convinced the cost of the trip was worth it. Not only in dollar terms but considering the condition of the road to the crater from Arusha, one has to wonder if the views justify the journey.
Getting to the crater took longer than we anticipated, delays coming in the form of a puncture while returning from a morning jaunt back towards Moshi so that we could see Mount Kilimanjaro sans cloud blanket.
We got there just in time to get a cloudless view of the mountain, clouds beginning to form 20 minutes after we stopped to gawp. It really is quite amazing to stand in African bushveld and gaze up at a mountain with a cap of snow - and we're not talking about a dusting of snow.
After looking for an alternative route back, round the back of Mt Meru, and getting lost, we reached the tarred Moshi-Arusha road and sped up so that we could get to the bank before it closed - supposedly at 12.30 pm (trust bankers to take full advantage of Africa time!).
Wag 'n Bietjie was not her usual self, sashaying along the road like a Rubenesque model heading down the catwalk with her most provocative roll. I really didn't want to stop and find out why because the road doesn't have a shoulder and other drivers aren't terribly worried about slowly down to pass.
Bit of a let down
But stop we did. And puncture we found. With fear-induced frenzy, we jacked Wag 'n B up - hi lift jacks are notoriously unstable and I didn't want the rush of a truck coming past tumbling us into the ditch - and changed the wheel. Thankfully the big trucks' drivers were aware of the dangers and all of them slowed down and moved right to the other side of the road to pass us. Naturally, it was the smaller bus and taxi drivers who induced the most fear.
Back in Arusha we had the puncture repaired (at a dollar and a half, it wasn't worth doing ourselves!) found the bank still open and searched high and low for a 24 mm ring spanner or socket - fruitlessly. Tools in Africa seem to be thin on the ground, so make sure you have all the tools you need. And we decided to stay another night.
We'd moved from the Masai campsite about 2.5 km out of Arusha - great pizzas - to one about 10 km out of town the night before. The Duluti Club, named with the same overblown sense of grandeur that the British used for their clubs in colonial times, allows camping and has a spectacular setting on the bank of a crater lake, unsurprisingly named Lake Duluti.
The lake is about 2 km from the Moshi-Arusha road but has an isolated feel. It doesn't appear to have an outflow, the lowest side of the crater being where the campsite is situated. The view across the small lake is of an almost circular ring of hills about 50 to a 100 m high and covered in trees.
The bird life is spectacular and we were treated to an evening display of cattle egrets coming in to roost in the tree right above where we were camped. The birds arrived in the hundreds, initially in small groups but growing to flocks of dozens of birds arriving together in classic V-formation. Each new arrival would be greeted by raucous "debate" about which bird had a right to which perch.
On the second night there, the birds couldn't quite resolve their disagreements and all - we're talking several hundred at a time - took off simultaneously and flew a couple of laps around the lake before heading back to try again. They did this 3 or 4 times before a section of the flock agreed to roost somewhere else.
Beaten around the bush
Heading out of Arusha the next morning, we were looking forward to a relatively easy trip to Karatu, a village about 25 km from the gate to Ngorongoro Crater Conservation Area. The first section of the trip went smoothly but in typical African fashion the turn-off to Ngorongoro and Serengeti - possibly the two most famous game parks in the world - was marked only by a board indicating the road went to "Manyara".
Assuming they meant the Lake Manyara National Park, which is on the way to Ngorongoro, and not some obscure village, we followed the road. Its condition didn't fill us with confidence that we'd chosen correctly. While a new road is under construction, the old one is so diabolical it is difficult to imagine it leads to world-class tourist attractions.
We were jolted so badly on the 60 km journey that we had to stop halfway and haul out the toolbox so that we could replace the rivets holding the fan cowling in place - the road had caused them to snap.
The second half of the road does offer great views - when you can take your eyes off the road to see them - as you climb out of the Rift Valley onto the plateau before ascending the crater wall to Ngorongoro.
As you climb out of the Rift Valley, you look down on Lake Manyara and the forests surrounding it.
Safari, so good
Shortly after we stopped at the Safari Junction campsite in Karatu, deciding within 5 minutes of meeting Julius, the man who manages it, that he would look after Tigger properly while we were in the park, an English couple walked into the bar where we were calming our nerves (so to say!).
Graham and Alison had spent the whole day sitting under a tree in town, waiting, and when they saw us drive through the town, they followed us up to the campsite. Backpackers, they were hoping to hitch a ride into the crater for the day. We'd been hoping for something like this to happen as it meant we could split the costs, but hadn't expected it to occur so easily. We agreed to pick the pair up at 5 am and head off to the gate in time for the 6 am opening.
Reaching the gate 5 minutes early, we stood wondering if they would open on time as there was no sign of life in the small office beside the gate. Sure enough, at 6 am a vehicle arrived and the passenger opened the gate before buggering off into the darkness again.
Slightly bemused, the four of us stood in the darkness and debated whether to simply drive in and wait until we were stopped. 200 m up the road was the office and boom (great signposting and public information system). We had to wait another half hour until the official decided to wake up and arrive for work.
But the barriers to entering Ngorongoro weren't over yet - while we were forking out our hard earned cash for the over-priced facilities: $25 each, $30 for the vehicle and another $15 to be allowed into the crater (why else are we paying $25 to get into the park?!) - a truck coming out of the park had crashed into the gates, almost completely blocking the entrance.
After negotiating that, we could finally roar off up the crater's outer wall, reaching the lip just as the soon rose. The game viewing and scenery were spectacular - see the box alongside.
Stopping at the park headquarters, as instructed, we were told we would "be allowed to go down into the crater without a ranger as there wasn't space" - thank goodness for fussy rangers who will only escort you in the comfort of a cushioned seat!
Facilities within Ngorongoro are pathetic - toilets without seats, no loo roll, no benches, drinkable water or any other amenities at the picnic sites - and a complete absence of direction markings on the crater floor.
Maybe I am just nit-picking and penny pinching, but when you're paying world-class prices to get in, I don't think it unreasonable to expect an attempt at reasonably decent facilities. The attitude seems to be one of "shut up, give us your money and be grateful we let you in".
Considering the road conditions, the amenities and the money-grubbing attitude, it is exceedingly tempting to advise people to stay home and watch the videos - at least until the new road has been built. But the game-viewing and the scenery makes it difficult to decide on the value of the day we spent in the crater.
I still can't decide whether visiting Ngorongoro was worth it.
Grading system
We met the owner of Safari Junction on our return from the crater - he also happens to be the local bank manager and runs a safari company. When I joked with him that I'd been surprised to see a grader on the road back from the crater, as I didn't think there were any in Tanzania, he responded in all seriousness that he thought Tanzania had 5 graders - but he wasn't sure if they all worked!
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