Homecoming and Reflections from our Kenya Overland Trip

It took two more days of driving before our month-long trip was truly over. We ended in Jinja, where we relaxed and recovered at Eric’s parents’ place on the Nile River, his Dad joining us our second night there, giving us a reprieve while he spent time with the kids. We needed it.

We had stayed at a simple, but clean place the night before called Maraboi Estate, driving there from the Maasai Mara, and then had a long day of driving to reach Jinja, including a border crossing back into Uganda. It took about 7 hours from Maraboi Estate to Jinja. We pulled over on the side of the road to have our lunch and give ourselves a break. After that, I sat in the back with the kids, since Pax was crying in his car seat. I was so tired and didn’t have the energy to hold him, not to mention I didn’t think it was safe to hold him on the busy highway. Sitting beside him did not help, so he cried for at least the last hour of the trip and I had a horrible, pounding headache. It was as if we all knew how close we were and we just wanted to be there already.

It was good to be [relatively] home. Right away, Leo jumped out of the car to play with William, his playmate, and Scout, the dog. I went vertical on the sofa, falling into a deep nap. We stayed in Jinja for a couple of days, staving off the inevitable to-do lists that would overwhelm us back in Kampala. We caught up on some much-needed rest while Grandpa helped entertain the kids.

We managed to keep the kids asleep for most of the drive back to Kampala, so Eric and I had some time to talk and reflect about our trip. This trip took it out of us. It was hard and we were arriving home weary, but was it worth it? If we could go back in time, would we decide to do this trip again or would we fly to the beach and relax for a couple of weeks instead? Or rather, should we simply have stayed at home? We laughed, remembering a South African couple we chatted with at the Maasai Mara, who saw us overlanding with kids so young and blurted out, “Are you fucking crazy!?” She was a mom of 4, she said, and they were only overlanding now that the kids were out of the house. We remembered watching another couple at Lake Baringo, sitting calmly in their camping chairs, overlooking the lake and reading their books. We looked over to them in longing and jealousy as Eric and I hand-washed clothes, traded kid-watch, and cooked meals.

Drying cloth diapers while on the road

But how could we say that it wasn’t worth it? Sometimes it really is the intention that counts. Our trip was planned with the intention to be present with one another, live simply, and explore the beauty of our East African home. We dug in deep and made an adventure happen. While there were certainly tears, there was also a lot of laughter and love. I clung to a moment when Leo looked right in my eyes and said, “We all love each other, don’t we, Mom?”

We believed that going together on a trip was better than giving our children lots of presents for Christmas and, when asked, Leo agreed. Admittedly, this kind of a trip may have been too much to ask of a 1-year old, who had a hard time with the long drives and couldn’t understand why he was limited in movement when there was an ant nest around or when we were trying to keep him out of the mud. We also agreed that if our intention was presence, a trip to the beach may have been the better option, since camping was simply so demanding. There was always work to be done and the children were not old enough to truly help, so we felt like we were always putting them off so we could pack up, cook, wash clothes and dishes, etc. A beach vacation probably would have allowed us to be more relaxed and present with children at this age, but in looking back on our trip, i do think the difficulties brought us closer. And now that we have been stuck at home this year, spending lots of time together due to COVID-19, I am grateful that we did push into the difficulties of the trip and made it happen. Leo still talks about it and wants to camp again soon. Just last night, out of nowhere, he said, “Mom, do you remember the puddles that looked like lakes in Kenya?” He was referring to the flooding in Amboseli. We adults scorned it, since it prevented us from accessing much of the park, but Leo had a blast splashing through the puddles and it seems he remembers it fondly.

We will continue overland trips with the kids around Africa, and we know (or hope) it will only get easier and more enjoyable as they grow up and are able to help out more and appreciate the sights more. Overlanding offers incredible learning opportunities, bringing you face-to-face with lessons on culture, history, geography, languages, the natural sciences, and more outside of a textbook or screen. I hope it will also teach them that we can do hard things together.

In the end, I think the best summary of our trip is best said by by Sigurd Olson:

“We had left no mark on the country itself, but the land had left its mark on us.”

Maasai Mara: Days 23-26 of our Kenya Overland Trip

We nearly went straight back to Kampala from Nairobi. For about half a day, we thought we should skip our last couple of stops - Maji Moto and the Maasai Mara - due to our incredible exhaustion. I think I’ve mentioned in every post just how tired we were, but it’s hard to explain this level of tiredness. It was absolute weariness. The long drives with children, the constant work of camping, the poor sleep - it was all adding up and we were tempted to just go home, but we got a bit of energy from our short stay in Nairobi and decided to push on. The Maasai Mara, after all, was the grande finale.

I’ll admit, I pooh-poohed the Maasai Mara when others talked about its grandeur. I had been on safari in Zimbabwe, all around Uganda, and Tanzania. Safari is safari. A game drive is a game drive. They all offer a relatively same menu of experiences, I thought. I was wrong. The Maasai Mara was beyond any of Africa’s wild places I had visited. Usually, a game drive is quite boring the majority of the time, as you may drive for hours before seeing something spectacular. Not at the Maasai Mara. We drove from one great sighting to another, all scattered across an incredible landscape. It was truly almost too much to take in. We were glad we came.

When we arrived, we set up camp at Aruba Mara camp, just outside the Talek gate, which had both luxury tents and camp sites with great facilities and an excellent restaurant. We pulled our Land Cruiser into the first camp site that looked appealing, right under an acacia tree, but when we got out of the car, we found nail-like thorns on the ground everywhere and quickly decided to look elsewhere. Once finding our new campsite, we realized two of the acacia thorns had punctured two of our tires. This was not how we wanted to begin our time in the Mara. Leo, however, brightened up. He had admitted to placing a thorn under our tire at a previous campsite because he “wanted to see what would happen,” so now he had his chance. Luckily, we weren’t far from Talek town, so after lunch, Eric and Leo headed to a local fundi (handy-man) while I waited at the campsite with Pax. I put him down for a nap, washed dishes, and was just settling down for a rare chance to read a book, when the boys came back ready to go.

On that first evening drive, we saw elephants, a hyena, and a pride of lions basking in the sun before their hunt. Now, the grandeur of the Mara is also its curse. Because it is so incredible, it draws the largest crowds and most of the drivers do not stick to designated roads, thereby destroying the very landscape they have come to enjoy. This also means that when there is a special sighting, you will likely be joined by dozens of other vehicles. So it was with the pride of lions. As we sat with the lions and several other vehicles, I handed Pax over to Eric, who sat at the steering wheel so I could take pictures. Soon, my 1-year old leaned his entire body on the steering wheel, giving the horn a decided blast, which was followed by a chorus of shame from the other tourists. “Are you serious!?” someone shouted. We bowed our head in embarrassment and pointed to the baby. People couldn’t stay mad for long. After all, the lions hardly blinked.

Leo, my son named after these great beasts, became bored. Instead of appreciating this special sight, his attention wandered to a safari van which had gotten stuck in the mud on the other side of a bush. We could hear it spinning its tires, trying its best to get out. Leo begged to leave the lions and instead wanted to watch the van try to get out of the mud. To each his own, I suppose. As the sun set, the lions stretched and got up to hunt for dinner. We had to get out of the park before dark and we had dinner to make. As we left, Leo craned his neck to see the status of the van.

We arranged for a game drive early the next morning, this time hiring a vehicle and driver so we could leave our tent in place. Just as we entered the gate, we spotted a hyena trotting across the plains with a freshly-caught meal and soon caught sight of 2 more hyenas in the tall grass. It was a good start to the day, but it then took a while to see anything else of note. We took a break by the river, where we could get out for a wee and we watched some hippos across the bank. Two were standing outside the water (a rare enough sight) and we heard them growling and grumbling at each other. We watched them fight for a while, which was the first time I had seen a hippo fight.

Later, we heard of a lion sighting and were taken to some bushes where we could barely glimpse a male lion laying in the thicket, with an occasional glimpse of movement inside, which we were told were cubs. We saw a couple of them come out to pounce on Daddy’s head for a bit, and then scamper back inside.

The best sighting of the day came after our guide received news on his radio of cheetahs. Our driver snapped the car into a higher gear and drove maniacally in the direction of the cheetahs. All other drivers in the area did the same and it felt like we were in a rally race. First, we saw a lone female cheetah glancing around the tall grass, her spots helping her blend in. Then our driver left her, much to my surprise and disappointment, but soon drove us up to a crowd of other vehicles where we saw the famous 5 cheetahs of the Maasai Mara, known as the band of brothers. We were told it is rare for cheetahs to hunt together, making this team of brothers a particular fascination for tourists and researchers alike. They had come from a meal and were now taking their rest. I was so happy to get this close to 5 cheetahs at the same time, even if there were dozens of other tourists around, too.

We had seen a hyena with a kill, lions, and several cheetahs. it had been a good morning, we reflected, as we headed back to camp. Leo, however, wasn’t satisfied. He had seen so many 4 x 4s stuck in the mud and he wanted to play in the mud, too. We laughed and tussled his hair. Crazy kid. And then, we heard a motor hard at work. Our driver looked to the right and saw another vehicle stuck. He promptly turned down the road to help push it out. Leo perked up. Now this was a successful morning for us all. After we pushed the vehicle out of the mud, we headed back to camp for lunch and baths.

Stopping to take a wee without breaking the rules and getting out of the vehicle.

We took one last guided game drive the following morning, before we packed up camp and moved on to our next site. It was a satisfying morning, as we almost immediately caught sight of the 5 cheetahs we had seen the previous day. They were given away by the dozens of impala and hartebeest standing at attention, muscles shaking, looking in the direction of the predators. The cheetahs, however, were relaxed and didn’t seem to be looking for a meal. This time, we were nearly the only ones around. We circled the cheetahs and the herds of antelope, getting a perspective of both sides of the food chain. We drove around a bit more that morning, seeing a secretary bird catch a snake, but little else of note, so we headed back, paid our bill at the campsite, and drove on.

We headed to our very last campsite of the trip, which was located in the middle of the Mara Triangle, right on the Mara River. This was certainly the most remote of all the places we had camped, without even water or toilet facilities. We did, however, have a couple of armed guards, who were required to stay with us throughout the night. The drive was lovely. We saw several giraffes and appreciated the landscapes, with all kinds of different species together in a single scene. We had lunch at a popular stopover on the river, with many other tour companies and their clients. I grumbled at several tourists who insisted on feeding the monkeys and even a monitor lizard. They came to see wild animals, I told them. If you don’t want them wild, then go to a zoo in your own country. I have to say, the irreverence of many visitors to this place of splendor really grinded me.

We drove on toward our designated spot on the Mara river. Along a dusty road, we noticed two vehicles sitting around a tree. We slowed down, wondering what they were looking at, and they waved us over. It took us a while to find the path to the tree, and by the time we found it, the other two groups were leaving. As they passed us, they told us there were 2 lionesses and 1 lion. It was an unexpected and lucky sighting to come across. As we drove up to the tree, I realized that, for the first time, we would be approaching lions without a guide or anyone else around. We were alone with the lions and I was nervous. And I was right to be. We kept a respectful distance, but as I cautiously rolled down the window, the male lion looked up at me. I stuck my camera out the window, and he barked at me. I know you don’t hear of lions barking, but that’s exactly what it sounded like. It was a short, but deep bark, meant to warn me. It did, indeed. My body raced with adrenaline and I began shaking. It is amazing how our bodies are primed to react to such threats. It took a while for me to calm down. In the meantime, I kept my window rolled half-way up and took a few shots. I couldn’t capture much, as the lions lay in the grass mostly hidden, but we stayed for a while, just watching them. Soon, another vehicle passed and we waved them over, too. This one was full of a large family leaning out of the pop-up roof. They took one lap around the tree, snapping photos with their phones without even stopping, and went on their way. I rolled my eyes. Here I was, literally shaking in awe and fear, while this family wouldn’t even bring their vehicle to a stop to appreciate Africa’s top predator. If you can’t stop for the splendor of this, I wondered, why are you here?

We made it to the campsite, grateful to be wrapping up our trip at such an amazing location overlooking the Mara River. It was a bit disconcerting to arrive and fully realize there was no camp groundsman, no potable water (we carried our own), and no way to know much regarding our whereabouts or what animals may be around. We knew the 2 guards required for the campsite would be coming before dark, which gave me some peace of mind. We set up camp, started a fire, gave Pax a bath, and started to make dinner. While our meal was cooking, I walked down to the river and noticed giraffes gracefully walking across the grassland, one at a time, to come to the river as the sun set.

Since I’m telling the good, bad, and ugly of our trip, I’ll tell you what happened the next morning. The plan was to have breakfast, then clean and pack up as quickly as we could, so that we could move on and have more time to rest at our next stop-over. However, we didn’t get on the road as quickly as we had hoped. I don’t remember exactly what triggered it, but Eric and I snapped at each other and suddenly, while bent over a basin washing dishes, I broke down crying. This cry was not a silent one with a few sniffles, but a full-fledged outpouring, like a dam had broken within me and the tears were rushing through. I still can’t pinpoint exactly why I was crying, but I knew I needed to let it come. Eric led the boys away and I went into the tent and cried more, taking my sweet time.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion that finally caught up with me. Perhaps it was knowing that we were at the end of a trip we had spent an entire year planning - one on which we had placed a great deal of expectations. I wanted this trip to prove to myself I was strong after being in pain for most of the year. I wanted it to halt power struggles between us and the kids, between the kids, and between Eric and I. Perhaps it was the realization that a trip cannot solve all of our issues and we still had a lot to grapple with once we got home. Whatever it was, I cried it out. Then Leo made me an offering of some kind of stick or flower he had found, and we moved on.

Almost wordlessly, we drove away from our campsite. I asked to stop when we saw a couple dozen hippos basking in the sun by the river. The mood lightened as we drove out of the park, seeing the light of the rising sun strike some graceful giraffes reaching for leaves in the tall acacia trees - the last scene in our last park of the trip.

Nairobi and Maji Moto: Days 21-23 of our Kenya Overland Trip

We rang in the New Year with friends in Nairobi and a short respite from the wild. We spent only one night in Nairobi, just long enough to watch the New Year roll in and restock our food and supplies. We managed to combine our shopping trip with a breakfast date with Leo’s old teacher, whom he once said he would like to marry, and whom he greatly missed since her move from Kampala to Nairobi. After breakfast together, Leo and his teacher played in a bouncy castle at a mall while we did our shopping and then we were on our way once again.

We had our sights set for the infamous Maasai Mara, but decided to stop for a night along the way at Maji Moto Eco Camp - a friendly, welcoming place run by the local Maasai people. Now, I have unfortunately previously taken part in cultural tourism that felt exploitative when I was taken to a village by outsiders where the villagers put on a show for us tourists who gaped and took pictures. I was weary of duplicating this experience, but was encouraged by the reviews online and the fact that Maji Moto was completely run by Maasai.

We were not disappointed. This stop ended up being one of the highlights of our trip for the kids, as our hosts were so welcoming and friendly and included the children in some very simple, but engaging activities. Upon arrival, our guides gave Leo a bow and arrow, which he treasured for the rest of the trip. We set up camp under the huge candelabra cacti, and then our hosts took us for a walk down to their natural hot spring (Maji moto means “hot water”), from where they pumped water for the showers. We had two guides, who encouraged all of our questions about their culture, traditions, and their land. We felt genuinely welcomed and taken in by our hosts. Nothing felt like a show, but instead it was a genuine welcoming by a people who are proud of their culture and traditions and who want to share them with others.

From the hot spring, we were led to the women’s village, where several widows lived with their children and made a living by selling their handwork - jewelry and other wares made with the exceptional, traditional Maasai beadwork. The women had a special greeting for me, the only other woman. They greeted me by putting our arms on each others’ shoulders while we swayed back and forth in song. In these cross-cultural experiences, I always love meeting other mothers. No matter the language or cultural barrier, motherhood is motherhood and babies are babies. There is an instant understanding and respect for what it takes to raise a child. There were a few mothers with babies and we laughed as they peeked at each other over our shoulders while strapped to our backs.

We returned to camp to make dinner and after we ate, a group came to make a fire for us. This was not unusual, as the managers of each camp site would make a fire to keep wildlife away. This time, however, a group of about 6 people came to make the fire and invited us to watch how they started the fire without matches. We watched as they quickly rolled a stick of hardwood between their hands, set on their machetes and a piece of soft wood. They passed it one to the other as each one’s hands got tired, until we saw a small puff of smoke. Here, they brought in a small bunch of grass and kept at it until they had a spark. It took the group about 5 minutes to start the fire and then they let Leo have a go at it. He was enthralled.

We later sat around the fire and I asked questions about how they raised their children, about their diet, and other traditions. This was a valuable time for me, as i often keep the question: "How have humans done [X] throughout the history of humanity?” in the forefront of my mind when making decisions about my own life. With this question, I find that many of our modern “essentials” are certainly modern and are not exactly essential. In our generation, for example, we almost cannot fathom raising children without iPads, but of course these have only existed for about a decade and hundreds of generations of children were raised without iPads, so it’s hard to conclue that they are essential.

Part of the appeal of this trip through Kenya, for me, was to visit the land where humankind was born. In a sense, visiting the Great Rift Valley is a homecoming for anyone, as we can all trace our DNA lineage back to the early homo sapiens who came from this region. To have the opportunity to witness a people who have undoubtedly changed since those early days, but still live a semi-nomadic lifestyle and are still incredibly connected to this ancient land, was an immense privilege. When we first planned our trip, I hoped to visit Northern Kenya and witness the other traditional people groups up there - the Samburu, Turkana, and others. I am simply enthralled by these people. To think that these people groups continue to live lifestyles more closely-resembling our ancestors than any other people in our modern world, made me immensely grateful for this opportunity to glimpse their lives and ask questions.

As we sat around the fire, I thought I would share a tradition and food from my own culture, so I brought out our marshmallows to roast. A few of our friends tasted the sticky, sweet treat and could not take more than one bite, as it was too sweet for them. I felt embarrassed at my poor offering, recognizing that foreigners have brought goods to Africa for centuries, confident that their ways were better when, in fact, they were often unhelpful and even hurtful. What good is a marshmallow anyway? There is nothing healthy or good about it for those who do not crave its sweetness.

We stayed only one night at Maji Moto, but since we didn’t have far to drive the next day, we were able to spend our morning exploring more of their land. Two more guides took us up a rocky hill and Leo bounced along beside them, happy for the opportunity to run and climb. Raising my children in Africa, I often admire how parents will allow their children to roam and play without fussing about their safety constantly, but I also often find that same sense of nonchalance does not transfer over to white children. I had rebuffed our guide the day before, when she worried about Pax with bare feet on the ground. “Don’t you allow your children to go barefoot?” I asked. “What is the difference?” She laughed and admitted that they think perhaps white children are not as tough, but she also took the cue to leave my children to explore where they will, with the same standards as their own children. And so our guides on this walk became some of the few adults who truly allowed Leo to push his physical limits. He found a large slab of stone, laying at about a 45 degree angle, and climbed it proudly as, I admit, my heart pounded. He followed the Maasai man up to the top of the hill, crowned by large stone, and looked down in excitement at the land below us while I tinkered behind him and Eric handed Pax up to me, who was tired from the walk and wanted some milk for refreshment.

When we came back down the hill, we packed up to go, but our hosts would not let us leave without one final activity - “warrior training.” They brought out their shields and cut off pieces of sisal, which they good-naturedly threw at one another, flying them through the air with a fuft fuft fuft sound, before they either landed in the grass behind them or fell with a thud on the painted leather shields. After witnessing the fun for a few minutes, Leo picked up a shield, too, and threw a few sisal sticks of his own. They took it quite easy on him.

After their games, the men sang us a farewell song and regaled us with their impossibly-high jumps, sending us off with the unforgettable image of their bright red cloth set against the blue sky.

Amboseli National Park: Days 19-21 of our Kenya Overland Trip

We had turned back West and were slowly making our way from the Kenyan coast, back home to Kampala, Uganda, with several stops planned. After Chyulu Hills, we had a short drive to Amboseli National Park, one that has been touted as a favorite among safari-goers in East Africa. Amboseli is a small park, and therefore it its wildlife is more concentrated and supposedly easier to find. Mount Kilimanjaro, which looms across the Tanzanian border, also makes a stunning background for the already beautiful scenery.

We camped outside the park at Elephant Gorge (AKA Winnie’s Camp). At each of our destinations, no matter how spectacular, it was the campsite that could make or break the experience. At Elephant Gorge, our first impressions were not favorable. It was hot and the sun was harsh. There was no shade at the campsite and as we got the boys out of the car, we noticed thorns all over the ground, an ant’s nest just a couple of steps away, and a few “Nairobi Eyes” (small red and black beetles that leave a burn on your skin). I couldn’t put Pax down on the ground to help set up camp. But we were soon saved by Joseph, the manager of the place. He promptly brought a large tent to give us shade, as well as a sprawling rug for the boys to sit on. He was incredibly helpful and kind, making a less-than-ideal site (for young kids) very do-able.

I noticed several lovely birds flying around, so I kept my camera close by. As a rule, I would always take my camera to the bathroom with me during the trip because I would often see something lovely and unexpected. On bathroom trips at Winnie’s Camp, I saw a stunning little Purple Grenadier and a Green-winged Pytilla.

After having lunch, setting up camp, and putting Pax down for a nap, Leo and I had some time to walk around a bit. We carefully avoided the several Nairobi Eyes that we saw in the tall grasses as we found animal tracks around the campsite. We looked up to see a few zebra and a couple of giraffes looking back at us. Leo gathered some grass to “feed” to them, but of course we didn’t get very close.

At night, we enjoyed our s’mores around the fire (part of our camping bedtime routine), and played monster trucks in the tent until bedtime. After the boys were in bed, there was always more work to do, so Eric and I forced our tired bodies out of the tent and into the cold darkness so we could do dishes and pack everything away. It was then, at night, when I appreciate the lack of shade trees around our campsite, as it offered us a wide-open view of the night sky.

In the morning, we were making breakfast and preparing for a day in the park when Joseph came over and asked if we had seen Kili yet. He pointed South and sure enough, just behind the bushes, we had a clear view of Mount Kilimanjaro, the tallest mountain on the African continent. As we headed into the park for a game drive, it loomed beautifully in the background for most of the morning before the clouds covered it for the day.

We had a fun day cruising around Amboseli, although a good part of the park was not accessible due to the heavy rains. We made it through several large puddles, but thought better of it when the puddles turned into small lakes. We enjoyed watching large families of elephants strolling through the grasslands and flocks of pink flamingos gathering in the water. Although antelope quickly become uninteresting while on safari, a highlight was watching a group of impala close to the road. On our left side, there were dozens of females and one male, who seemed to be the head dude. On the right side of the road were several other males who were play-fighting one another. The big guy with the females bellowed out to the other males, almost mocking them and daring them to come challenge him. We did not hire a guide or ranger, which is usually helpful if you want to see any big cats, but as we passed other cars and asked them if they had seen anything, they all said no. It seemed the lions and leopards were hiding that day.

We did, however, have quite the adrenaline rush at one point. As we explored some of the side roads, we came upon a lone bull elephant, who are known to be quite aggressive. He indicated that he didn’t want us there, so we stopped and let him graze for a while, waiting for him to move on. When we thought he had moved far enough away from us, we slowly proceeded on the road, but it seemed he still had a point to make. He promptly turned around and charged our car, running right at us. I started yelling “GO GO GO!!!” to Eric, who kept his eyes on the road. After gunning it for a few hundred yards, we came to a huge puddle covering the road and had a moment of panic, not knowing how deep it was and if our car could make it through. For a couple of seconds, we were trapped between the washed-over road and a charging elephant, but as I looked back to see how close he was, the elephant graciously decided to let us off the hook. Now we were faced with the decision to try our luck at the puddle or turn back and face the elephant again. Wisely, we chose the puddle. We made it through and we stopped to catch our breath. I was shaking and laughing. Pax had no clue what had happened and Leo started asking a million questions.

We continued on with our drive, now a bit more weary around elephants. We left the park early, knowing we had to set up the tent again and make dinner, all of which had to be done before nightfall.

The next day, we would drive to Nairobi, where we would ring in the New Year with pizza and ice cream and friends. We set up camp on our friends’ yard, appreciated the chance to talk all about the highlights and struggles of the trip, and enjoyed a good internet connection.

Chyulu Hills: Days 18-19 of our Kenya Overland Trip

We left Watamu, turned back west, and started the journey home with another week a a half of stops in front of us. We were headed to Amboseli, one of Kenya’s most well-known game parks, but couldn’t make it there in a day, so stopped to camp at Chyulu Hills for a night. The public campsite was well-kept and we were greeted with a flurry of butterflies. Knowing our next day’s drive would be a short one, we felt more relaxed upon arrival while we made dinner and even the next day as we packed up.

Although Chyulu Hills does not offer much in game viewing, its landscapes are a worthy site, complimented by the flitting colors of hundreds of butterflies. Upon departure, we made our way through the park and through the Shetani lava flow. The name shetani refers to spirits, which some say can still be heard screaming from the lava, which flowed from a volcanic eruption nearly 200 years ago. We didn’t stick around long enough to listen. We set our sights to Amboseli, passing several herds of goats, shepherded by young Maasai boys.