And on that final descent – boy does the cold beer at the lodge go down well !!

almost as well as the swim

Walking in the bush, finding beauty all around.

A regenerating olive tree

cattle wallowing in the river lines, and after an eight miler up and down the hillsides, our view of our campsite at Ol Osur

After five wonderful days trecking through the greatest forests in Kenya, we’ve arrived – it feels like we’re on top of the world.

Lake Natron below us at the bottom of the rift, with the pink of the flamingos clearly visible.

Now just the descent into the rift tomorrow morning

Looking back – we have been so lucky on this trip, from the Mara with the wildebeest migration all around us along with their attendent carnivores,  to meeting the warriors (Maasai Moran) by the the giant cedar trees in the highland forests of Ngare Nanyuki, and now to looking over the rift valley before our descent….

A final steep ascent, with some of the first forest butterflies playing around our heads in the late afternoon sunlight – and we make our first campsite – at Ol Osur.

I think I spy a bees nest high in a podocarpus – and having had the sweet honey go missing at Olashe, am keen to mark it out for a possible attempt on the sweet honey inside this nest.  It turns out to be wasps though.

The wonderful friendliness of walking in Maasailand, such that the few Maasai we come across all made their way over to greet us, while any children we met made to greet us, offering their bowed heads for us to cup with the palm of the hand.  Human connection in such a wide landscape is so important, for someone to walk past and not offer a greeting, would mark them out as someone not to be trusted in the community.  Thus small exchanges, of what news from where we came from, news of any common friends or family members is all briefly exchanged before we set off again.  The greeting of the children allows a sense of respect and affection to be generated istantly, and remains with these people as they grow to full adulthood, respectful of each other, and particularly of those older than themselves.

We spent time at a walking pace, able to ask questions about the wonderful trees and flowers we passed, and try a few dried Esinoni berries.

A last chat round the campfire, then bed.  On Saturday morning, we’re rearing to go…

light day packs with plenty of water, light first aid kits, lunch, and our guides Francis and James

Our first two and half hours were spent marveling at these incredible forests, and spotting unbelievably brightly coloured sulphur breasted and grey headed bush shrikes, firsts for Jonathan and I.

After saying good-byes to John and family that morning, we then drove East and upwards into the Loitas, to start our five day walk to Lake Magadi.

Away from the plains game, we were driving towards the Loita Maasia’s scared forests, of Enaimina enkiyio – “the forest of the lost child”.  the story is of a child lost in the forests that the maasai still hear calling to them.  I was given the family name of the people who had suffered the tragedy, ole Kiok, who still live in the area.  Onward for our first glimpse of the forest, and camping on its edge, making preparations for a big walk.

While we out game driving, a honey guide came through the camp calling.  John said, this either means something good or something bad – lets follow it and see.

It was something very good – a sweet honey (asali) hive courtesy of a swarm of ground bees

Our Maasai guides provided smoke by igniting some elephant dung, and despite  a few stings, were soon tucking into delicious dripping wild honey

That night I was awoken at three in the morning by the most incredibly loud rasping screeching roar, as a leopard, attracted by the nyama choma (roast meat), engaged in a ten minute stand off with the hyenas.

John started looking intently into the river line - knowing the leopard was close by

It was impossible to sleep through – it sounded like a screaming banshee, repeatedly screeching enraged as the hyenas cackled and giggled in response

the analogy of the leopard’s roar as a bow saw going through wood was there, yet it ended in such a high pitched screech it sounded like the rage and fury of the damned in an ear splitting noise that went right through everyone in the camp

the askaris stayed vigilant and after the stand off, the noises subsided again back into the hub-bub of bush crickets and chirping of distant frogs, leaving me rather quivering with the pulse and energy of it all

so if we count leopard identified by its waking us all up – we have come across all of the big 5 today – lion, leopard, buffalo, elephant and rhino

that night we ate our sheep nyama choma (roast meat) as a stew, plus a few ribs to gnaw on,

and were then joined by an eighty year old mzee (respected elder) called ole Njabbit, and an elderly midwide, called Pere, the mother of a neighbour of John’s.

Ole Njabbitt’s father had been part of the Maasai moves from northern Laikipia as part of the 1911 agreement with the British.  The mzee told us his father had been quite sanguine about the move, accpeting the new place as a good country with water and grazing for animals.  We chatted into the evening about the changes facing the Maasai community.  Ole Njabbit felt that while many of the changes were good, four things were important in the future:

respect:  that the young should respect the elders, and the blessings that come with this would ensure a long life

livestock keeping, as their father’s had always been maintained by this

land sub-division (into individual plots), as an elder he did not praise this, as it creates a lot of eminity, quarralling and practical difficulties

circumcision of children, all children should be circumcised at home and not in hospital, while the celebration ceremonies that go with this should be completed properly  (a reference to the importance of the age set rites and initiation ceremonies that have been so central to Maassai life for generations).  

These ceremonies are dying away under the influence of the westen church religions.  The confirmation of an adult male in the ceremony of the bull (Orkiteng) for example, and which preceeds the married man’s own initiation of his children to be circumcised, is not being undertaken by John, as he is a member of the local Anglican church community.

Plenty of time for offering the wazee (elders) beer and food and for open and honest discussion comparing our lives and our stresses with that of our hosts, all done via translation with John into the late hours.  Stars twinkling, insects chirping, the hubbub of maasai conversation, gentle and reaffirming, and old friendships being strenthened and new ones formed