The Great Wildebeest Migration - Masai Mara National Reserve

Within minutes of entering this vast reserve I encountered so much game my mouth dropped open in astonishment.

Armies of wildebeest stretching to the horizon, elephants getting stressed with each other and bellowing their concern with high decibels, lions sleeping off a kill at a muddy waterhole, spooked Impala bounding into the bush, a lone vulture sihouetted against the sunset and Maasai striding across the plains with their spears and red cloaks billowing behind them.

The Masai Mara is the greatest wildlife show on earth.
I had to pinch myself that I was there. I’d seen the reserve on the television so many times. It is a staple of Sunday afternoon documentaries on the BBC where a hushed David Attenborogh would show us hordes of wildebeest brave the Mara river crossing targeted by hungry crocodiles, where packs of hyenas would force lions away from their nearby kill, where zebra stallions would round up their mares and fight off any other male contenders, where cheetahs would outsprint "Tommie" gazelles tripping up their hind legs and making them crash to the ground.

For most of my life the Masai Mara has been a distant dream only available to rich tourists or BBC filmakers. But it wasn’t – it is possible to visit and enjoy all the drama and spectacle of African wildlife. Of the four big gameparks I visited in Africa that September – this was the first and remains the favourite.

Its situated in the south of Kenya, about 150 miles from Nairobi. It is the northern part of the Serengeti Plains which covers northern Tanzania. The border between the two countries is about a mile north of the Mara River - a hippo infested waterway where hungry crocs await prey. The prey is of course the two million or so wildebeest which visit every year from the Serengeti. The long rains arrive in the Masai Mara between July and October creating fresh grass. The huge herds of wildebeest smell the rain and trek northwards in their millions – they turn south in October and leave the Mara as quickly as they arrive.

So the best time to visit the Mara is during the migration. Words can’t describe the sheer immensity of the wildebeest during this time – they literally turn the plains black with their numbers. Not only wildebeest but zebra and "Thompson" gazelle. This of course is Christmas come early for the predators and the Mara supports huge lion prides (some of which are stars of the BBC’s Big Cat Diary). There was so many lions in the Mara that you could spot one under nearly every bush. There are also big clans of hyenas (no joke hearing them at night), jackals, cheetahs, and leopards at the Talek river. Not to mention colossal flocks of sinister vultures.

There are also plenty of tourists but away from the Sekengani Gate doesnt create a problem. There are so many game lodges in the Mara that you dont encounter too many tourists (unless there is rare game like cheetah or leopard). Some of the game lodges are expensive like the world famous ‘Governors Camp’ but their are budget options such as "Riverside" camp where the animals and Maasai wander through.

A word about the Maasai. This is the heart of Kenyan Maasai territory and while they are integrated into the tourist scene you are aware that this is their territory. On the road down from Nairobi (a bone rattling ride) you are almost travelling through a Maasai nation. Every horizon had a Maasai herder and his flock of goats. They wave at you as you drive past – especially the children. You will encounter the Maasai "bomas" which are mud huts surrounded by a ring of thorny walls where the cattle are kept each night. There are also Maasai towns, the main one being Narok, where you can stay in hotels made out of breeze-blocks called "Manchester United" hotel and "Sam’s Hotel and Butchers".

The best thing to do is book an inclusive safari in Nairobi. That way they take care of entrance fees, accommodation for you and most importantly can take you to the game. Nothing beats spinning around the tracks in a open-topped safari van to see where Topi graze, hyenas crunch bones or where buffalo glare at you.
And when the sun goes down even those in the luxury lodges will hear the sound of the night – the bray of zebras, the rasp of a leopard and the roaring of lions. Never in your life will you be so close to nature.

The Masai Mara is a contender for my favourite place in the world.

One morning as I saw a seriously big male baboon.

He emerged out of the bushes – saw me come out of the toilet block – then sped back into cover again.

The thing was huge. I felt a shiver of fear when viewing him; he looked like a troop leader. I walked over to the blockhouse where the boys were cooking breakfast and pointed out what I had seen. They were dismissive "Oh they come for the rubbish" – but I was still in shock. He was the biggest baboon I had ever seen. I made doubly sure that my tent was zipped up when we went out on safari.

The ‘Riverside’ campsite gets lots of visitors both human and animal. Its rather small containing only about twelve tents but its proximity to the Talek Gate means that it is in constant use. It is literally metres from the gate which has no boundary fence and only a bubbling brook between it and the game on the plains.

The campsite is crewed by a four man team – two cooks, a worker and a 28 year old Maasai warrior called John. John was quite a sight decked out in traditional Maasai garb with bald head, red cloak, stretched earlobes, bare feet and of course a Maasai spear. Each of the boys was exceptionally eager to help us and proved to be good company. Most of the tents are small one-man tents which are arranged around a cabana with toilet block and "restaurant" not far away. It costs about $25 a night for one of these tents and for me they were part of a package arranged by these people www.bestcampingkenya.com.

The company runs campsites and tours to Samburu and Amboseli national parks not just the Mara. The kitchen boys do "tours of duty" at each of these campsites. This does alleviate the worry about leaving your belongings behind when you head out on safari as the boys will be there to chase off any baboons. And as one of them told me the baboons up at Samburu had worked out how to unfasten tents to get at the belongings inside.

While not on safari it is actually a delightful place to relax and to have a post safari siesta. The only company is small blue weaver birds making a racket. Its open bush here. Beyond the tents is savannah where anything could wander through. One lazy afternoon the jangling of cow bells mixed with the sound of small Maasai boys shouting came from the back of my tent. An entire herd of Maasai cattle and boy shepherds started to graze in the middle of the campsite. The whacking of their tails against the canvas woke my travelling companions up.

The food is served in the concrete kitchen area lit by kerosene lamps at night. The food is excellent – fried fish, pasta and even buffalo stew generally accompanied by a cold beer. They stoke up a fire in the evening and you can sit outside. John the curious Maasai will join you there. About nine o’clock the animals sounds begin in earnest but I felt safer with a Maasai guarding us.

It’s quite an experience having a Maasai guard your tent all night by the flickering flames of a campfire. Very Africa.

In 2008 the migration number for wildebeest in the Masai Mara reached two million.

That’s the biggest movement of animals on the globe. A number so huge that they turn the horizon black with their numbers.The herds are so big that they cover the grassy plains like a moving sea – forever moving in search of fresh pasture. The sound of their hooves thundering past and the lowing sound they make is unforgettable. To be standing in a safari vehicle as the mass of creatures move past you is a heart-in-mouth moment. The greatest movement of herd animals on the planet.

They come up from Tanzania’s Serengeti Plains in a circular migration that takes a year. They arrive in the Masai Mara when the long rains arrive in June/July. The rains spark a growth of fresh grass, and when this is worn out they head south in October. They cross the treacherous Mara River in their millions and give birth in the Serengeti Plains in January. The cycle then starts again this time with new foals heading north to the Mara.

While the Mara has resident game all year around (Impala, Topi) it really bursts into life when the herds arrive. The predators have a glut – often killing more than they can eat for the hell of it. The glut only lasts a month or so before the wildebeest (and their zebra allies) head south again for Tanzania. But while they are in the Mara – the killing just never seems to stop.

We saw our first Wildebeest on the first morning. As we came in the northern Talek Gate there were only a few hundred dotted across the savannah. But as we progressed into the park we were aware of great armies moving. They would move in their thousands, nose to tail, across ridges or or plains looking for fresh grazing. They would be led by an older male often in a single mass but often trotting in single file to their destination. It was like watching a stream of commuters stretch across the plains.

We would often get up close to them when they reached the driving tracks. Wildebeest are often regarded as clowns often because of the way it looks – head too big for spindly torso and legs, an overlong snout and a wispy beard. They do play the fool much of the time – arching their backs they do buck up and down like dancers, they spin and fall and generally charge around for the sheer fun of it. It’s as if they have too much energy to contain and bounce around like Jack in the boxes.

I never got blasé with wildebeest because they were so interesting to watch. But it was in the afternoon of the first day that we found a mega-herd. Our mouths dropped open as we encountered a herd with at least ten thousand wildebeest. They literally turned the land black with their numbers. This colossal herd bestrode the track and I was stunned at the sheer weight of numbers – it was just an ocean of black horns, heads and wispy beards. We cruised the track. On the western side of the track the wildebeest seemed to stretch into infinity. Black bodies pressed together in an amorphorous mass. We stopped the engine in the middle and stood up to get a better view – young, old, some running away with spurts of speed – bashing into others and sending them galloping.

I found them so watchable because they reacted to everything. Our guide used to slam the vehicle door to spook them and watch them run. I have to say they were my favourite animals in the Masai Mara –stupid to a fault but immensely watchable.

I was lucky to see them two weeks later they would have disappeared and the vast herds gone from the Mara,

The cheetah lay in the long grass panting.

Not because of his recent exertions to bring down a teenage wildebeest but because he was getting his breath back from eating his fill. With a swollen belly it was time to let the food settle a little and gaze at the nine safari vans parked a few yards away.

I was one of those; I was looking at close range through a pair of binoculars and noted how androgynously pretty a cheetah is. It’s a magnificent looking cat from up close – the sandy coloured feline head, the tufted ears, the black tear marks under the eyes and that devil-may-care attitude. It knew who its audience was and it wasn’t letting it distract him from enjoying the feeling of a full belly.

The best place to see Cheetahs in the Mara are the plains ten miles south of the Talek Gate so we headed there as early as possible. For the next hour we scoured the plains. The wildebeest were omnipresent and there was a ringed herd of wildbeest nearby which seemed to be gaining centre stage. It was like they were waiting for thousands to catch up. Sure enough two herds came from different directions. They came at an angle, single file – barrelling along and meeting at the apex of a right angle making the herd get bigger by the minute. Watching hundreds and hundreds of wildebeest lollop along was a transfixing sight. The huge herds of wildebeest converged behind the van and the herd just got bigger and bigger.

Then we saw the head poke out of the grass watching the wildebeest.

We realised we had spotted a cheetah. It was still a long way off and could only be seen in detail with binoculars. A small head with a slender body was watching the wildebeest intently. We realised if f we were to see him any closer we would have to move now before others arrived. But that would mean circumnavigating the herd and crossing the stream. The wildebeest were almost hysterical in jumping out of the way of our approaching van.

While we were doing this the cheetah made a kill and brought down a young gnu.

Others had spotted him and by the time we got there three vans were surrounding him with more arriving all the time. He was in the long grass by the side of the track tucking into the meat. We saw the beautiful cat from very close range. He was tearing into the rump with relish. He would look up, watch us, catch his breath and continue eating. We could hear the flesh being torn and gulped down from where we were. Cheetahs eat fast so that other predators do not steal their kills.

We stayed for twenty minutes until there was a crush of ten vans around the Cheetah. He didn’t care and afterwards lay there in post-glutton splendour. We were sorry we missed the kill but were more than satisfied with a close ranging viewing. It’s the kind of drama I’d hoped to see in the Masai Mara.

Easily the highlight of the visit to the park.

There is something infinitely creepy about hyenas.

I don’t know whether it is their sloping walk or the way their mouths drop open but there is something of the childs nightmare about them. They may not be looking for trouble but they look as if they are.

In the Mara there are huge clans of these beasts and they are at their most active when we were there – while the herds of the migration were in the area. Individuals travel for miles in search for food – they spread out from clan burrows communicating with each other with that otherworldly yowl they have.

"WWWwwwwwhhoooooppppppp!!"

To hear that in the black of night when you are in a small tent is chilling. They are calling to each other – probably for backup against lions. And the first night we were under canvas there was quite a commotion going on out there on the plains – hyenas, lions and the braying of zebras reached us across the night.

So when we entered the Talek Gate to the reserve you could feel a sense of drama that had occurred the previous night. The herd animals you passed were jittery. In the plains around the Talek gate the wildebeest herds had been present and so had the lions. And where you find lion kills you find the scavengers.

Our first hyena was a female lying by the side of the road on her back. She was built as solid as a tank and was much bigger then I expected. Those shoulders were very muscular and beady eyes watched while a wet nose sniffed the air. As we progressed into the plains we left any other vehicles behind and began to discover what the commotion was the previous night. The kills started to be spotted . The leftover kills were an attraction of hyenas who used to amble off the track as the van approached. Most of them would have been females as the clans are matriarchal. Its not much of a life if you are a hyena and a male – you are are at the bottom of the pecking order. The reason that the females look so muscular is that they are pumped up with testosterone.

The first wildebeest corpses began to be apparent. We saw the culprits of the carnage asleep in a nearby copse and I swear the lioness had the fattest belly I had seen on a lion. She was lying on her back with her paws in the air – in a post-glutton stupor. There were two lions – a male and a female and neither paid us much attention. Watching from a nearby acacia tree were a number of vultures and a lone eagle.

The number of wildebeest must have been huge going by the number of corpses – the lions must have killed more then they could eat. We found three kills within a few yards of each other. The first was occupied by three hyenas who gorged inside the carcass watched by nervous vultures. As we drove up they stopped their eating and watched us, necks craning to see better.Then they would reach down and tear into the flesh. Even from our distance we could hear those teeth rip the flesh.

Over the track was another gnu corpse. This one was nearly intact and we wondered if the lions had just been on a killing spree – killing more then they could handle. It attracted over forty vultures and marabou storks who were making a racket. As we watched they were gorging inside the carcass, fighting for position and snapping at each other.

There was one more corpse not far away and this had one lone hyena cracking the ribs. Vultures crowded him but he just carried on with his head in a wildebeests stomach. Our guide thought he would have a little fun with the scavenger birds and slammed the van door hard – they all whooshed into the air in a panic and would not venture near the corpse until we were on our way.

On our last day we were reluctantly leaving the reserve we saw evidence that even hyenas have their "cute" side. Near ‘Fig Tree Lodge’ we stumbled on a hyena creche. One muscular adult watched over what were hyena puppies. They were adorable – as much as hyenas can be adorable – with fluffy coats, pointy ears and their eyes had a youthful curiosity that was endearing. The adult hyena called to them to leave us alone with a "wwhhhoopp". But one young male ignored her and sat on its haunches, tongue hanging out with inquisitive eyes watching our every move.

It looked like it wanted to be petted – of course if I had tried I’d have lost all my fingers.

I’m pretty bored by television these days.

The diet of predictable programmes means I’m pretty picky what I watch. While still having favourites I tend to lean towards history, travel and wildlife programmes. Over the years wildlife programmes, particularly by the BBC, have been an absolute pleasure. I’m not sure why it is? Whether after a hard day at the office I’d rather watch wild animals snapping at each other than human beings doing the same.

But a staple ingredient of these programmes is the crossing of the Mara River by the wildebeest migration. It adds that little edge of danger and drama as the gigantic Nile crocodiles come out of their stupor ready for a glut of dumb herbivores all trying to cross at the same time. With David Attenborough’s hushed tones they build up the tension as the herds gather on the bank – eyeing the water suspiciously while the crocodiles manoeuvre to the best places to catch the nervous animals.

After watching these programmes for many years the thought visiting the Mara River at migration time was just not conceivable. But on the second day of our trip to the Mara I found myself bumping down the track to said river with a sense of disbelief and excitement. Our guide, George, said during the rains we may not make as the tracks may be too boggy. Every rut was filled with water and it was a struggle but the four-wheel drive van got us through the forty or so miles down to the Tanzanian border and the Mara River.

On the way we passed thousands of zebras. They fanned out across the horizon in huge numbers. They would also take advantage of the flatness of our track. The zebra used it ahead of us like a highway. George would come up behind them in the van and wait until they realised something was behind them. They would sprint off the track or the exceptionally stupid ones would keep running until they realised getting out of the way was the better option. I could watch these magnificent creatures all day. I like the way the babies, who kept with their mothers, were a sort of chocolate brown rather than jet black.

We were now approaching the southern boundary of the reserve where it blends in with the Serengeti Plains. A little further on was a sign announcing g the Mara River. A small car park was coated in muddy hippo footprints and droppings. We scrambled over a few rocks to gaze at the river. It was quite wide at this point. It was muddy brown in colour and the other side had cliffs of sandy earth. The gaps in the cliffs had been trampled over hundreds of years by animals crossing en masse. Five hippos were in the water – grey backs contrasting with the brown water.

The hippos could be heard from the bank by much grunting and snorting. Armed guides were there to show us the hippo pools upstream. So we were led by one young man armed with a rifle along a cliff edge. It wasn’t an easy trail and at times we had to climb over streams, feel our way along slippery slopes and pull ourselves along by tree roots. But eventually we reached the flattened meadows surrounding the river. The compressed earth was where the herds gather/recover before and after a crossing.

But as we stood on the cliff and the guide picked out reptilian obstacles in the river. Laid up under the cliffs were the famous Mara Nile crocodiles. Huge brutes about 12 foot long. I could pick out spiny tails and flattened heads. The guide showed us a part where a crossing had occurred the previous week. The place was strewn with bleached bones and skulls.

On the way back across the plains we spotted a van with BBC decals on its side. We hailed it and it was a crew making a documentary on ‘The Rift Valley’ and getting some inserts. The whole crew had booked out the expensive and luxurious ‘Governors Camp’.

Glad to know my licence fee is put to good use.

A colleague before I went to East Africa heard I was going and said "I love the Masai Mara – you get such a sense of natural life and death there.."

I wasn’t sure what he meant until I experienced it for myself. This is where every animal lives with one eye over its shoulder for predators or where one miscalculated leap ends in failure and it can’t feed its cubs. It is the animal kingdom at its rawest and while that is very exciting I think it is fair to warn you that it is also very gruesome. The blood and guts of animal death are freely experienced in the Masai Mara.

On our last day we travelled to the Talek River where we were hoping to catch a sight of the elusive leopard. The Talek is prime leopard country and they prey on the Vervet monkeys who live in the surrounding trees. The river itself is covered in small trees and sandbanks. Perfect ambush territory for a leopard.

We did find a kill in the river. Two wildebeest had been swept downstream and had ended in a culvert between two rocks. There they had been found by a dozen or so vultures and marabou storks. As we watched done vulture was so strong it could move a 300IB gnu corpse on its own. One lead vulture had its head inside the wildebeest and was gulping down the flesh. If you will forgive the pun there was a pecking order with these birds and a younger vulture was making shrill noises as it wanted to get at the meat and the others were keeping it at bay.

But it was nothing to the horror of what we encountered upstream.

There must have been a wildebeest crossing early this morning or late last night but it had ended in disaster and the carnage was indescribable. The opposite bank was a slope where the wildebeest had entered the river and this was at a reasonable angle – but on our side the cliffs were sheer and underneath these cliffs were two hundred wildebeest corpses.

They had obviously been caught against the cliffs of the river and the narrow exit had caused a crush or a stampede. The sheer weight of panicking wildebeest had crushed hundreds to death. The wildebeest are prone to stampede. Imagine being trapped in a panicking herd with lots of flailing hooves and horns. We could see the corpses below us and they were in a floating mass, bobbing in the river with their legs sticking up.

And then there were the scavengers.

Hundreds of vultures had found this massacre. They perched in trees surrounding the river. But mainly they were in the bobbing corpses hopping from one to the other with wings outstretched and shrieks rending the air. The noise was deafening – shrieking and cawing. Despite the glut of meat they were fighting each other. Some were so gorged with wildebeest they were too heavy to fly and had to wait until it was digested before they could get off the ground.

They say the biggest killer of wildebeest is wildebeest and my heart went out to them – it was a very upsetting sight. But it is part of life in the Mara and many more wildebeest make it back to the Serengeti to start the migration all over again. But I couldn’t shake from my mind the image of wildebeest drifting downstream and bloated so much they look like they had been inflated with a foot pump.

The next day we went back. Streams of descending vultures led the way and there were more birds then there were yesterday. The stench from them was pretty overpowering . The Marabou storks were there gulping down shreds of flesh from the bobbing corpses.
It was a sad sight and even our guide was affected. But accidents do happen and on this small river in Africa hundreds died within minutes.

Sobering stuff.

It’s easy to be blasé when not eyeing one of the big five and easy to see why everything else merges into the background when not viewing these ‘stars’ of the Mara.

But if you look around the place is infested with less prominent animals which if they weren’t in the company of the ‘big beasts’ would be attractions in their own right. For every African animal is squeezed into the Mara – often sharing their territory with the ‘Big Five’.

It can be no less rewarding to watch a fish eagle dissect its catch from a nearby acacia tree or a secretary bird strut along the grass or vervet monkeys pick up seeds from the track in front of you. The smaller animals are part of the ecological system often allowing the bigger animals to thrive. And when the herds leave the Mara in October it’s often the smaller animals which remain behind.

So we’ll start with smallest to largest.

You can’t get any smaller then one of the most prevalent animals of the plains. These plains are immense and the topography of the Mara is pretty special because despite being rolling and covered in green grass you can see for miles. Any herds are immediately apparent on the horizon and the herds leave alot of dung. The dung in return attracts trillions of Mara flies Words can’t describe what an irritant they will be. You drive through a patch of plain and they literally descend on you in swarms. They try to get at the moisture in your eyes, nose and mouth (it’s much the same in Australia). We took to taking the leafy branches of nearby bushes and using them as fly whisks. They don’t tell you this in the brochure.

Next up is guinea fowl. You are so preoccupied with watching a herd of elephants you don’t realise clucking around their mighty feet are these chicken-like birds. They look juicily plump with their fat bodies and mottled feathers. You just want to scoop them up and take them back to camp for a roasting.

Looking suitably patrician are the Secretary Birds so called because of the set of quills behind each ear and that prissy walk that they have. These long legged cranes were seen in the open grassland where they would be hunting for snakes and rodents.
The biggest bird in the world is the ostrich. We used to bump into at least one a day on the plains. These long legged birds were often a mated pair and I had to ask if anything went after them as prey. Our guide said they were very hard to catch as prey due to their legs and then there are the feathers to consider.

Also we run into families of mongeese. I’d seen these in India but always on their own. Here they were in a family of about twenty and coated the track as they dashed across it. They proceeded to ransack nearby scrub so vehemently that a dozing buffalo got up and moved away.

A word must be said for the rest of the antelopes who share the plains with the zebra, wildebeest and Impala. Most prevalent is the "Thompson" and "Grants" gazelle. Very delicate pretty looking antelope they are found everywhere. Topi are a much neglected animal and are abundant in the Mara – standing on termite mounds to watch for predators. Last of all are the giraffes which have a kind of prehistoric gait. They loom above the vegetation and when they move out from behind the acacia trees you get an idea of the size of them. They move with such elegance.

We also saw the baby giraffe – probably only about two weeks old – standing watching us with curiosity. It pressed my "ain’t it cute" buttons and I found myself wishing it a long life.

A nice idea...but in the Mara it just ain’t gonna happen...