hello, lion hunt

We were up, packed, and on the road by 8:30am... ready for a full day of safari. Today-- heading out from the center campsite of the Serengeti-- already felt totally different from the day before: the drive was slow, calm, and atmospheric. While we had been racing through dust and weaving through other Land Cruisers, we were now gentling cruising through a light, still morning-- driving deeper and deeper into the wilderness.

A family of giraffes munching on Acacias initiated our day of viewing. Our two Land Cruisers were the only vehicles on the road. As we drove through the yellow grass plains, a lone bull elephant displayed his massive self in the distance. We finally approached him, and he lumbered across the road in front of us, stopping intermittently to pull up some weeds for a snack.

After he had passed, we continued on to find a herd of Thompson gazelle split up by a stream. The gazelles on either side stood motionless and staring... staring in the direction of danger. Alright, time to find that danger-- water is always where the action is! Sure enough, one female lion stalks slowly along the edge of the stream while her hunting partner "rests" under a nearby tree, watching and waiting. Then, out from behind the tall grass emerges the king. The gang's all here: game on.

All three lions "rest" for a while in the shade, the two females under one tree and the male under another. You see, they look like they're sleeping-- just big lazy kitties. But, as our guide, Matthew, assures us, they are always watching.

Boom. With one swift movement, the male is up. His eyes are glued on something in the distance. One lioness mimics his movements, ready to assist. The king takes off, the lioness hanging back. We turn to see what he's after: a lone gazelle drinking from the stream. The gazelle senses him and leaps away from the water, turning its whole body in one jump. The chase ensues: lion versus gazelle. But the lion just can't keep up. Instead of cutting off and forcing the gazelle to run into the lioness (like he's supposed to do), his movements are slow and cumbersome. The gazelle slips away. He realizes he's lost it, and he slows to a defeated walk. He turns and shuffles back to the females, his head hanging in shame.

Shouldn't have sent a man to do a woman's job.

We were all on a high, even though we were slightly disappointed and stunned by the lion's poor performance. But the day continued to amaze us: A heard of a hundred zebras drank at a water hole, neighing and screaming and stomping at the sight of a croc. My dad spotted a lioness devouvering a wildebeast down in a gully. She even looked up from her kill, showing us her bloody face and the wildebeast's torn underbelly. A baboon troop partied across the road-- with baby riding on mommy's back-- and competed with a giraffe for full occupation of a roadside Acacia. We ate lunch in the grass, and I thought the day couldn't get any more perfect.

Then we got to Lobo, the northern campsite. Up in the hills and tucked below the backside of a beautiful baboon-covered rock koppi (little hill outcrop), Lobo looks over the surrounding plains... ahem... the epic Serengeti plains, that is. We took refreshing cold showers, and warmed back up with hot tea and popcorn. We had been the only campers there when we arrived, and by nightfall, we shared the site and a blazing campfire with a only few others.

We've got two nights at Lobo? Sounds good to me!