The Endless Plains, Chapter 23: The Forbidden Zone.

After the madness of the incredibly huge Mara Crossing that we had just witnessed, we settled in for a more peaceful day full of endless variety. 

We did have an underlying plan to try to spot rhino, but we knew our chances were slim. These animals are highly protected. Their common habitat is forbidden to us lesser mortals. Despite this, we did have our secret weapon. Ian, our guide.

So let's spend this blog going through what we saw on our way to and from the forbidden zone.

Baboons. Always a lot of fun. Sometimes difficult to photograph, but this troop were showing off.

The youngsters were playing. This involves all kinds of antics...

... including waving their willies around.

Thus the expression worn by all parents.

Next up, crocodiles doing nothing. They will sit on the banks for hours without doing a thing. As far as eating is concerned, they only do that once or twice a year, so we were in for a long wait.

As was this vulture.

These adolescent hippos were spending their time play-fighting. 

Amazing to watch.

But, give it a couple of years, once they've grown their tusks, (and other hormonal accessories) these games will become deadly. Adult male hippos often fight to the death. Usually at night when you are trying to sleep and ignore the howling aggression outside your flimsy tent.

Here's a tortoise we nearly ran over. But hey, look at its shell.

Ticks feeding on the tortoise through its shell!

Millions of years it took to evolve those shells, and the bloody ticks can still get through them.

Maybe this giant toothpick could help.

Now this was odd. We were driving through an area of savannah, with hardly any trees or shrubs in sight, and there, open in the middle of this effective dessert was a single beautiful flower.

Totally on its own.

With no friends.

Of course, there was the occasional tree, and the occasional millions of wildebeest.

We dropped in on our courting couple.

They were still at it.

Good grief. A baker's dozen of young ostriches.

Now that's something you don't see every day.

At least they weren't in trees.

Tawny Eagle

We were now approaching the forbidden zone.

So far, not a sign of rhino.

Black-chested Snake Eagle

Hang on, what's that...

Finally, after all this searching, all these years, in the very far distance, across an uncrossable gorge, deep in the forbidden zone, we caught a glimpse of a rhino.

That photo was the only one that captured a vague shape of a rhino on it. I have heavily cropped and fiddled with it to get this just passable picture.

We needed to get closer. We sought out the rangers. Not an easy job in itself. Then Ian had to beg for a while, then we were finally given permission to get a little closer.  So, back to where we saw it on the other side of an impassable chasm and...

It wasn't there.

It always amazes me how such a gigantic creature can make itself invisible.

We gave up and headed back towards base camp. On our way we saw a pair of fish eagles capture a defenceless log...

And then, another incredible spot. (Or stripe in this case.) This baby zebra had been born minutes before, the afterbirth still on the ground.

Wobbly legs.

Protective mother.

Cute.

It's first whinny.

The sun signalled our lateness,

But before we could set off, there, a baby giraffe too!

Nothing about this safari is normal.

Ok, we were definitely late.

We arrived back to a late dinner and a camp on fire. 

The savannah was aflame right next to our tents.

Oh dear, cooked guests for dinner.

The Endless Plains, Chapter 22: A Mass Movement

 We timed our arrival at the Mara to catch the first rays of the sun reflected in the river.

Shooting into the sun is a bit tricky. First off, clean your lens. Second, deal with very high noise in the dark parts. Third, get out of there quick because these lone buffalos are bloody dangerous...

After escaping unscathed (the buffalo was also fine) we saw a huge herd of wildebeest amassing on the far bank.

The normal routine of awaiting a crossing of wildebeest involves long periods of staring at a stationary herd, interrupted by the occasional mad dash further upstream (other directions are available) then watch them doing exactly the same thing.

This time, after only ten minutes, 

they decided to go for it.

What started as a trickle quickly infected the rest of the herd.

A truly enormous number of beasts attempted to cross at the same time. 

There are two objectives. Go fast and don't be on the outside.

The result is a cacophony of noise, a mass of hurtling bodies, nature at its most stupendous.

There were wildebeest leaping all around.

a plethora of splashes.

The noise from this crossing was carried afar. Other herds raced to join in, their instincts overwhelmed.

These smaller numbers hurled themselves into the fray.

Giant leaps as their energy levels topped out.

The masses reached the other side as a wave of animal flesh hit landfall.

Their calls of relief were often to attract their calves, whom up to that moment they had not given a s**t about.

Within minutes of the last wildebeest achieving safety, all seemed calm, as if nothing had happened.

Not a single death. Not a single injury, although I didn't examine all of them...

And dawn had only just broken. We still had all day to see the weird and wonderful endless forms of the animal kingdom. Click here