Nakuru National Park

A couple of weekends ago, a few of us decided to take advantage of a Friday Kenyan holiday, and use the long weekend for a safari in a national park. Since most of us are on a budget, we opted for the camping (read: cheap) option.

Thursday afternoon, we headed northwest from Nairobi towards Nakuru National Park. The drive was four hours through some of the most scenic landscape on the continent-namely the Rift Valley. It was this route, the story goes, that inspired The Lion King. We were told that the Disney artists actually came and took photos of the Rift Valley, and translated them into drawings for the movie. We even saw the peak upon which, in the movie, Mufasa tells Simba “this will all be yours someday.” Impressed? I thought not.

To continue the movie trivia, we drove pass another famous spot along Lake Naivasha. Hell's Gate is a well-known spot for hiking and mountain biking, with some good views of wildlife (the non-dangerous variety). This is also the spot where Tomb Raider 2 was filmed, for all you Lara Croft/Angelina Jolie fans out there. However, I have yet to visit Hell's Gate; any further descriptions will have to come later.

In addition to the majestic scenery, the ride took us on some of the most decrepid, pot-hole infested roads ever traveled.

So the group (four of us, plus our tour guide and our camp manager/cook) arrived in Nakuru right after sunset, and pulled into the campsite which was just past the entry gate. What we saw immediately made me fell very inadequate, and maybe a bit jealous. The only other group in the campsite was a logo-splattered caravan of Nissan 4x4's, complete with rooftop tents, bush bars, fog lights front winches, and generators. These guys were hard core. Here we came in our vintage-90's Toyota van, with rear wheel drive, and rented Tents-in-a-Bag. Hmm...

Still in awe, we set up camp around a fire pit. There were some logs to sit on, but they were quite scattered about. Not wanting to shout at each other in the dark, some of us in the group struggled to roll the immovable logs closer to the fire pit. (I say some of us, because it wasn't me. I was too busy laughing at the rest of the group and trying to take pictures. Obnoxious, I know.) The log rolling proved to be a big mistake; you will soon find out why. After the logs were set, we put up the tents relatively close to the fire pit, for warmth and light. Miraculously, the tents went up relatively easily.

It wasn't too long after dinner that it started drizzling, which in short order turned into heavy raining. That put a damper on the fireside chat, so we decided to pack it in. The noise of the rain on the tents was quite peaceful, and the night passed without incident.

I woke before the sun rose, to the noise of David, our camp manager preparing breakfast. It was early-six or so-and other than David, I was the first one up. The light from the fire cast shadows on our tent, specifically shadows of ants marching all along our tent. They were crawling along the seams, probably because there was a small overhang that protected them from the wet rain and dew. The ants were on all four sides of our tent, and it was an eery sight-something out of a nature show. The shadows made the ants seem bigger than they were.

I quickly unzipped the opening, and strategically emerged from the tent, trying to prevent being showered with ants. About thirty seconds later, I started feeling the pain of bites-first on my legs, then on my stomach and back. I jumped up and down, and rolled up my pant legs to find numerous ants gnawing on my presumably tasty skin. I took off my shirt and started picking the ants off of my stomach, back and neck.

The ants were not only on our tent, but in it as well. Evidently we had slept with the ants crawling around our inside our tent, undisturbed, warm, and protected from the rain. Undisturbed, that is, until we started moving. The fact that a small herd of zebra were having an early morning graze in the field not twenty yards away was overshadowed by the unexpected attack.

David told us that these were the dreaded Siafu, or Safari Ants-a notoriously aggressive variety I remember seeing on The Discovery Channel. These ants can kill goats, chickens, even human babies if left unattended-they are that aggressive.

And they hurt like hell. The Siafu aren't poisonous, but they sure pack a punch, especially the big soldier ants. Ouch. We eventually determined that many of the logs that we moved the previous night happened to be home to the Siafu. Between us moving the logs, and the rain, the Siafu were especially active, some might say vengeful.

I was slightly pleased to see the hard-core group on the other side of the campsite picking ants off their legs as well. All that cool gear won't protect you from the smallest nuisances. While it made me feel better to know that we weren't the only ones being eaten, that fact did little to alleviate our troubles.

We quickly ate breakfast, trying to stay moving all the while, and left for a game drive. As we were pulling out of the campsite, we were still picking off the last remaining Siafu.



The rest of the trip was filled with game drives, my first since being in Tanzania in 2004. Nakuru National Park is basically the area around Lake Nakuru, a natural soda lake home to tens of thousands of flamingos. It is an amazing sight, and a deafening sound. At certain places in the park, you can get out and walk up to the shoreline, mere yards from the immense flocks of flamingos eating algae from the lake.

Nakuru is also home to a largely successful breading program for both white and black rhino-very rare sights in most other parks. We saw so many rhinos, that they became a non-event by the end of the trip. We even saw a couple of baby rhinos, evidence of the successful breeding and anti-poaching programs in Nakuru.

The second night, as we were fixing dinner, a drunk South African approached us from the hard core group, holding a half empty wine glass. (Yes, they even had wine glasses. We were drinking out of plastic cups.) I asked, “Where are you guys headed?”

“Cairo,” was the response. Cairo! Egypt!!! I wanted to get on my knees and beg him to take me along. In my mind, to drive from Cairo to Capetown (or Capetown to Cairo, as this group was doing) would be the ultimate adventure, filled with sights and experiences unparalleled anywhere else in the world. However, I refrained from any an all begging, and just said something stupid, like, “that's teriffic” or, even worse, “sounds like a great trip.” I have to admit, once again, I was really jealous...

The following day, we were going to eat lunch, break camp and head home. We came back from the early morning game drive, to see David in the camp with a wide-eyed look on his face. “The baboons!” he yelled, as we got out of the van. We looked around and saw nothing. Then slowly, among the shrubs and trees surrounding the camp, we began to spot what David was talking about. First it was one, then a handful, and then more and more appeared.

In all, we estimate a pack of 30-40 baboons had basically surrounded the campsite, waiting for an opportune time to sneak in and grab something. Most of the hard core group was out on a game drive, so the baboons struck their camp first. One grabbed a bag of what appeared to be marshmallows, and ran towards the shrubs. He then sat, turned and looked at us, and proceeded to eat the multi-colored marshmallows, one by one, until the bag was empty.

Another couple jumped up on a table, knocked over a couple of wine glasses, opened a bag of bread and started eating. We chased them away from the table, laughing a bit as we did so. The entire escapade was infuriating and histerical at the same time.

After the other camp had lost its entertainment value, the baboons turned their attention towards our camp. It was amazing to see how aggressive and fearless baboons are, and to see their very large teeth, which they were not ashamed to show. They would get right up close, and you had to be as aggressive as they were to chase them away. And they are smart. If you turn your back, they will come up behind you and grab something while you are not looking. That is how we lost all of our bananas.

And our bread.

And our garlic.

The one that took the bananas was on my watch. I was packing away one of the dismantled tents, and I turned to put the tent in the van. A baboon came down the tree right behind me, grabbed the bananas, and climbed right back up the tree, just a few feet beyond arms reach. I looked up at him, demanding that he return the bananas. He just stared back at me (it was definitely a “he”) and ate the bananas whole, one after another, peel and all.

The second night of our stay, another couple had set up camp in the campsite, closer to the site's entrance. They had brought a bright red tent that they had vacated that morning for a sunrise game drive. Well, the baboons had a field day with bright red play-toy. We tried to stop them, but it was no use. The baboons were relentless. We had a hard enough time trying to protect our own campsite, let alone an unattended one. They hopped on top of the red tent, jumped up and down, slid off the side, and did it all over again. Repeatedly.

Up.

Down.

Up

Down.

Up.

Snap.

The baboon on the tent fell to the ground with a thud and was dumfounded. He had no idea what happened, but the tent was destroyed. We were laughing; it was a very funny sight to see. After the tent was leveled, some air was trapped inside, creating a pillow-like bubble, that caused further intrigue.

By the time we pulled out, the troop was growing tired of the campsite and was beginning to move on. On the ride back towards Nairobi, most of us slept, looking forward to our first shower in a couple of days.

The trip to Nakuru was a memorable one. The game drives were spectacular, and full of animals, waterfalls, and beautiful scenery. However, most of that was overshadowed by the surreal events at the campsite itself.

Here are some more photos from the weekend in Nakuru: