It’s often dubbed ‘the greatest show on earth’, and with good reason. Millions of wildebeest, zebras and Thomson’s gazelles migrate hundreds of kilometres each year in search of grazing. RICHARD HOLMES was one lucky witness.
THE SKIES ARE GREY, the low-hanging clouds pregnant with rain, as my Air Tanzania flight drops down towards Arusha. As we bank and line up with the runway, the clouds part briefly, revealing the shining dome of Mount Kilimanjaro glistening in the sunlight.
“You saw Kili? That means you will have good luck!” says my driver with a grin as we turn onto the road leading from the airport to Arusha. Whether he’s for real or merely working a smile from a weary traveller, it’s hard to tell, but I’ll never refuse a free dose of good fortune. Not when I’ve flown halfway across Africa to witness one of the greatest wildlife spectacles on the planet.
The vast, open plains and winding rivers of the iconic Serengeti National Park attract safari travellers from around the world. But nearly every journey to one of the globe’s most famous wilderness areas begins here, beneath the towering peaks of Mount Kilimanjaro and Mount Meru. Arusha serves as the gateway to the East African safari circuit and is a charming little town where it’s well worth spending a day or two to catch your breath. After dropping my bags at Legendary Lodge, a lovely boutique hotel on a historic coffee estate, I set out to explore.
Arusha is lively and lush in the dry season, the bustling edges of the city softened by the vibrant purple blossoms of jacaranda trees. First stop? The Cultural Heritage Gallery. But walk right past the market of predictable carvings and head for the gallery itself, a vast spiralling space inspired by New York’s Guggenheim and brimming with art from across Africa.
There’s a section dedicated to Kenyan painter and sculptor Mike Ghaui, but also look for the signature works by influential Tanzanian artist Edward Tingatinga.
For a break from the hustle and bustle, the Arusha Coffee Estate is worth a visit for a fine cup in the courtyard, as is the Shanga workshop, a social enterprise offering glassware, jewellery and fabric made by the town’s disabled community.
More Than the Serengeti
While Serengeti National Park claims much of the limelight, the region surrounding Arusha is home to a network of remarkable parks and ecosystems. The Ngorongoro Crater is one of seven World Heritage Sites in Tanzania and is arguably as famous as the Serengeti. However, within just a few hours’ drive of Arusha you could as easily discover the tree-climbing lions and flamingo flocks of Lake Manyara, the vast elephant herds of Tarangire or the myriad community conservation areas that protect the ancient pathways supporting the famous migrations of East Africa. My journey begins in a little-known concession making a big impact.
With a focus on community, conservation and a more mindful approach to safari, Chem Chem’s three character-filled camps share a 20 000ha private concession that has helped to revive the Kwakuchinja corridor linking Tarangire and Lake Manyara national parks – a vital piece in the jigsaw puzzle of the Great Migration.
Alongside the intimate Little Chem Chem and exclusive-use Forest Lodge, Chem Chem Lodge offers eight airy tented suites set among a forest of palm and acacia trees, where raised boardwalks meander between grassland and forest to connect the canvas-and-stone villas that gaze out over open plains.
Lake Manyara sparkles in the distance, attracting a myriad of birdlife to the area too. It’s the kind of place where giraffes might nibble the acacias at the edge of the deck or a herd of zebras thunder past as you make your way to the spa. Wellness is central to the Chem Chem experience, but not solely in the spa.
Often billed as the home of the ‘Slow Safari’, Chem Chem focuses on being present in the landscape, whether on a game drive or enjoying a walking safari close to the lodge.
It’s an environment where you can spend an hour watching a waterhole for Fischer’s lovebirds or admire a long-crested eagle staring imperiously down from a treetop perch.
Our last morning began with a barefoot meditation: “Feel your toes. Thank your legs for carrying you. Notice the wind,” suggested our guide, Salum Mpapa. With our eyes closed, our senses were heightened, every birdsong seeming much louder, making our walk along the shores of Lake Manyara all the more vivid. In a landscape renowned for more, Chem Chem encourages guests to savour the small delights.
Now that we were thoroughly grounded in the landscape of East Africa, it was time for the main event. After an hour’s flight to the north, the wheels of our Cessna Grand Caravan skidded down onto a strip in the far reaches of the Serengeti. A place spoken of in hushed tones when it comes to finding the best migration game-viewing in the Serengeti: the Lamai Wedge.
A triangle formed by the winding Mara River and the border with Kenya, the Lamai Wedge is the Serengeti you’ve seen on screen: a landscape of wide grassy plains filled with sinuous lines of wildebeest herds stretching to the horizon. Thomson’s gazelles dance skittishly between them, while small families of Defassa waterbuck – minus the white ‘toilet seat’ we’d recognise in southern Africa – eland and topi find space amid the masses. Gazing out, it’s a landscape where the grasslands are dotted with the umbrella canopies of acacia-like balanites, ubiquitous trees where leopards may stash their gazelles or prides of lions pant in the daytime heat.
Lamai plays host to a clutch of luxury lodges that offer the epitome of safari comfort, but for a more authentic experience, I opted for a tented camp that moves, like the herds, with the seasons. Legendary Expeditions’ Nyasi Migration Camp takes full advantage of the clockwise migration, beginning the year in the southern grasslands as the wildebeest calve and then tracking the herds as they follow the rains and graze northwards. By September, this elegant mobile camp is pitched on a hillside in the Lamai Wedge, near the Mara River and in an ideal position for witnessing the Great Migration.
It’s a camp that’s low-key yet comfortable, with canvas tents – complete with en-suite showers where hot water comes courtesy of wood-fired boilers – tucked into the woodland. The camp is entirely unfenced and it’s not unusual for nights to be disturbed by the honking of wildebeest or the whoop of hyenas just beyond the canvas. Pitched among the suites are a handful of dining tents, each allocated to a guest to ensure complete privacy while on safari. Families and couples will love it.
And unlike most camps, which charge a hefty premium for the privilege, guests at Nyasi enjoy their own private vehicle, allowing them to set the pace for daily game drives. On our first evening, we ventured out onto the plains to soak in the sheer enormity of the landscape, savouring the russet tones of sunset on the grasslands. The following morning, we had a river crossing in our sights.
Witnessing a herd crossing the Mara River is a process carefully managed by the guides, with vehicles waiting at specific crossing points and maintaining a safe distance from the river as the herds gather and debate whether to attempt the treacherous crossing. He who dares, wins. Or gets eaten. Fortunately, for us at least, the overnight rain on our side of the Mara River was far too tempting for the herds to resist, and at crossing #7 a herd of approximately 8 000 wildebeest took the plunge into the river.
For the next half hour, we watched in awe – mingled with a touch of horror – as the wildebeest swam for their lives, eyes bulging and lungs heaving, as crocodiles sank beneath the surface to pick off the slowest. The wildebeest that made it across and up the steep sandy banks were doubly fortunate; today there were no lions lying in wait, but often even the shore offers no sanctuary. In the river, the crocodiles concealed their kill in the branches of a sunken tree and returned for another. It was nature, red in tooth and claw, and it lived up to every expectation I had.
That afternoon we left the river behind and set off in search of birds. While the massed herds are a highlight, birders will be as thrilled by the abundance of birdlife in the Serengeti. Within just a few hours, we spotted little bee-eaters and yellow-throated longclaws, along with bare-faced go-away-birds and dark chanting goshawks. From the branches of balanites trees, black-chested snake eagles and Montagu harriers glared down at us. High above, scanning a landscape abundant with easy meals, white-headed and Rüppell’s vultures floated on the thermals.
And so the days unfurled like the grasslands themselves. We discussed a trip to the southern bank, but with a bridge washed away at Kogatende, it would entail a lengthy round trip. And besides, who would want to waste a minute in the Lamai Wedge? Not me.
As my Cessna took off, its nose pointed south towards Arusha, the true scale of the Great Migration unfolded below. Wildebeest streamed across the landscape like an army of ants on the march. On the fringes, zebras and Thomson’s gazelles went along for the ride, and I swear I caught sight of a lioness down there in hot pursuit. Perhaps my driver had been right after all. The snows of Kilimanjaro had brought me no end of good fortune.
Nature’s Endless Cycle
Want to see the Great Migration? Where you go depends on when you plan to travel.
- JANUARY–MARCH: CALVING SEASON In the lush grasslands of the southern Serengeti, near Ndutu, thousands of calves are born, attracting predators and providing memorable sightings.
- APRIL–JUNE: HEADING NORTH The herds move through the central Serengeti to the western corridor, with quieter safaris and dramatic Grumeti River crossings.
- JULY–SEPTEMBER: MARA RIVER CROSSINGS The migration peaks with river crossings into the Lamai Wedge and north into Kenya’s Maasai Mara.
- OCTOBER–DECEMBER: RETURNING SOUTH As rains fall in the south, the herds journey back through the central Serengeti towards Ndutu, completing the cycle.