This would be our last stop in our long African safari. We were on our way to a place that I was completely unfamiliar with. Tsavo East. It was recommended by the tour providers and I chose to leave it on our extended safari. The idea of going somewhere that locals feel is special that are "foreign" to me is the very core of what it means to travel.
The morning we left the Amboseli Sopa lodge I had to get one or two or more shots of the sunrise on Mount Kilimanjaro. There is something iconic, majestic, poetic about the sight of that giant looking down on the acacia trees and wildlife that we experienced while we were here. Thinking that Ernest Hemingway stood right here and saw the same sight for so many mornings inspired feelings that are hard to put into words.

Taking a little extra time in the gardens in the front of the lodge I saw Sami. The giant Masai who greeted us as long lost friends when we arrived two nights before. We shook hands and chatted a bit about the longevity of the Masai and their way of life. I scurried toward the van and Dusty asked where I had been. When I told her she asked if I had tipped Sami. Honestly, it hadn’t crossed my mind. I took her advice and quickly returned to share a few Kenyan shillings with Sami and he accepted them with barely an acknowledgement.

On the road out passed the massive concrete plant that, being surrounded by so much vacant landscape, looked like a spaceport from a Star Wars movie. Working our way back toward Nairobi we stopped at the same curio shop we had been at a couple days before.
This time I wandered out the back of the shop to see what was behind the Wizard’s curtain. There was an area full of half finished wood carvings. There were dozens of giraffes, rhinos, and hippos from palm sized to taller than Sami. All of them waiting for their final sanding, staining, and polishing. Eventually to end up as a gift to someone’s friend or family member in Japan, Portugal, or Reno, Nevada. Out the back door and into the sunlight I saw four men sitting on stumps surrounded by masses of wood chips. Each was in the process of turning raw branches, or chunks of wood, into the still life images of the big five plus I had seen for sale inside. Another opportunity to chat with the locals and feel a bit closer to Kenya and the hard working people who live there.





The Nairobi to Mombasa road went south from here. We passed dozens of concrete trucks and recognized the huge impact it must have on their economy. Passing through Makindu on the Nairobi to Mombasa highway we saw the typical activities along the roadside that we had seen in so many villages since we arrived. Small shops of every description for those who could afford a storefront and closer to the road were wooden stalls from scraps of lumber for those who could not. There were even vendors standing in the middle of the street selling anything from fruit to bottles of water.



After another long day in the saddle we crossed the railroad tracks at the abandoned train station that marked the entrance to the Maneaters Camp https://www.maneaterslodge.com Yes. I said Maneaters. The camp got its name because of a well known fact that 2 male lions killed over a period of 3 months about 140 workers while the railway was being build in 1898. The chief engineer John H. Paterson became a hero when he killed the two infamous Man Eaters of Tsavo. They say Paterson got that lion, but even if he didn't they would be really really old by now.



We were assisted to our "tent" by a couple of porters and we settled in to check things out and take a look around. Our back porch looked out on the Tsavo River and several of it's residents were looking back at us.





In my research on the camp I read that taking a walk around the old railway station was something to be experienced. All you had to do was ask for an escort to see you around. I spoke to the manager at the front desk and was introduced to the grounds keeper, Walter, who took me on a little "walk" while Dusty relaxed in the tent to recover a bit from the long ride.
We first walked to the end of the path where the thirty-one tent accommodations fronted the Tsavo River and took a dusty path through the brush down towards the water's edge. Walter was sure that the crocodile that had been there recently would be a great photograph for me today. I was sure that whatever we saw would be worth the walk.
As we came out of the dense overgrowth near the point where another creek spilled into the Tsavo River there was a mother elephant and its baby lumbering towards the opposite bank. Standing on a stone outcropping I snapped off several shots while Walter surveyed the deep water for the crocodile he was searching for. Just then we both turned as the sound of breaking branches to our right revealed a large bull elephant on our side of the river.
No. This was not a raging attack causing the branches the size of my legs to crack like match sticks. The noise is the casual stroll of 10,000 pounds of the largest land animal on earth taking a morning walk along the river. First get the pictures, then worry about accidentally getting in his way. We held private court with this massive mammal in his own back yard for a few quiet minutes. We watched the mother and child across the river leave the far bank for the wilderness beyond. Then we reversed direction and began the long walk between the river and the tents toward the abandoned train station we had briefly viewed when we drove into camp.

Movie set. Time travel. Disney ride. It felt a bit like all three, but it was reality. Walking with Walter through the abandoned buildings that still had the train track repair parts and reports scattered around seemed like everyone had bolted out of there the day before. Together Walter and I checked out the repair shed, train station, and the railway switch controls. I snapped pictures and imagined what it was like here when Theodore Roosevelt came through in 1909 while my companion/guide paged through the Daily Trains Cash Book from early this century. Up in the switch tower he would push and pull on several of the still serviceable levers that were designed to move trains from one line to another while I continued to daydream and take more pictures. The raised letters "Westinghouse Brake & Signal Co. Ltd." were still clear on the aged castings of the hardware. They just don't build 'em like that anymore.
We left the station and followed the tracks toward the old bridge. The old bridge was built on stone pilings some forty feet or so above the Tsavo River. The new train tracks running from Nairobi to Mombasa by contrast were at least ten stories above the river on concrete pillars probably made from concrete produced nearby. On the way he told me that there were graves nearby.
In World War I there was combat in this area between the British and German forces. About a dozen British soldiers died right here and were buried in shallow graves and covered over with stones. These were the rock piles that Walter was looking for. Carefully searching in and around the dry scrub brush we both looked until he found the first bunch of maybe fifty stones the size of loaves of bread. Then we found another and another. Some piles bigger and some smaller. None were in mounds and he explained that the bodies were removed after the end of the war and taken to a nearby cemetery in Voi to be with their fallen comrades. http://www.ww1cemeteries.com/ken-voi-cemetery.html
When we got back down to the river under the old bridge it seemed that wherever there was a large pool Walter was sure to keep an eye out for the crocodile he was sure was nearby. By now the sun was getting low in the sky and we needed to start back to the camp. We could either go back along the train tracks, the way that we came, or return along a game trail following the river. Obviously we were going to stick near the river where we had a chance to see more wildlife.
A game trail is not a road, or a hiking trail, or anything on any map. It is where wild animals walk through the brush to do what animals do. Soon I found myself sliding down a sandy slope using one hand to hold my camera and the other to keep from falling on my ass. Then I was ducking under thorny bushes to try to follow Walter as we twisted our way back towards Maneater's Camp.
Constantly keeping an eye on the river in hopes and fears of seeing the crocodile that Walter was sure had to be nearby we instead spotted beautiful antelope relative across the river coming down for a drink. It was a lesser kudu and in the light of a setting African sun it was a stunning sight. I had enough time to get a few good shots and pause to enjoy the moment before he bounded over the rocks away from the river.
Moving further down the river we began to hear movement in the brush from something that we could not see. This is the kind of thing that makes your heart beat a little faster. Mine did. Across the river sitting on a rock was a mother and child watching us as we made our way out of their home and back to ours. It may have been seeing these primate relatives that retuned our eyes to the environment, or maybe they just wanted to be seen now, but suddenly we could see on our side on the river one and then another baboon quietly keeping their eyes on us.

Walter did not have to tell me that we did not want to mess with a troop of baboons. I had watched enough Naked and Afraid episodes to know that they can be nasty and are very territorial. We were apparently given permission to pass and did so calmly while snatching a few unauthorized photos of the residents.

We got back to the camp before nightfall and I knew that Dusty would be getting nervous at my prolonged absence. She was happy to see me and humored me with taking a quick look at some of my pictures before we went up to the main lodge for dinner.
The thatched roof was the only thing between us and the cooling African air. There was only one other group having dinner there. We could see our driver/guide, Isaiah, eating his dinner at a small table next to the pool overlooking the river below. After dinner we spoke with him briefly about plans for an early morning start to begin our trip to Tsavo East.
Our Last Safari....
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