A First Safari in the Serengeti, Where Every Drive Is a Game Drive
One of the first things I learned on safari is that every drive is a game drive. I landed at Seronera Airstrip in Serengeti National Park at 11 a.m. on a Sunday morning, and within an hour, I was looking out the side of our 4×4 gaping at a nearby giraffe, mere minutes before encountering a small herd of elephants.
I had no idea if this was just the usual; I was a safari newbie. For years, this had been at the very top of my bucket list as a travel editor, and at long last, I’d made it work. And this wasn’t just any safari—I was with Four Seasons in Tanzania, exploring their lodge in the savannah and all that the majestic location has to offer. Our group of five included two other safari novices, plus two seasoned safari-goers. For me, it was an ideal combination—I was with a couple people who were as wide-eyed and green as me, and two more journalists who knew the ins and outs of this kind of trip, but without any ego or superiority complex.
Our guide, Goustone, picked us up at the airport to set off on our drive to the Four Seasons Lodge, as I gaped out the windows, in disbelief that I was in Tanzania, glimpsing a lion in its natural habitat.
As we pulled into the hotel, we encountered what hundreds of zebras and wildebeest. There’s not an obvious delineation between the hotel and the park, and that’s intentional—the Four Seasons, which took over the property in 2012, gives you the luxury resort experience (no camping required), right in the midst of Serengeti National Park.
The Four Seasons is undoubtedly a luxury experience in the Serengeti, and ideal for those who have no interest in camping or giving up five-star comforts. But it’s more than that, and I soon saw how the hotel functions in a constant conversation with the local communities and environment. They know how important and fragile this ecosystem is, and contributions from every single game drive and walking safari at the property go to support the local population and wildlife projects, including the Serengeti Rhino Conservation Project. At the hotel’s Discover Center, guests are educated on the history, people and wildlife in the Serengeti, with regular talks and presentations. The hotel also works with local nonprofits, like Hope for Girls and Women, which helps support those fleeing gender-based violence in the area.
The 77 accommodations are all relatively similar in design, with a thatched roof and plenty of earth tones and natural materials, along with works from local artists. My room had a direct view of the watering hole from the private terrace; I was repeatedly, adamantly instructed to keep the sliding glass door closed and locked after use, as the local baboons are apparently quite fond of entering the Four Seasons rooms—but more on that later. The rooms are luxurious but not froufrou; you still very much feel like you are on safari—albeit, one with a soaking tub, plenty of hot water and a plush king-sized bed with curtains and the crucial mosquito netting.
Bright and early the next morning, I was donning some very beige clothing that I hoped would deter the attention of any tsetse flies when I heard a loud banging coming from the terrace—almost like a very insistent, abrasive knock—and pulled aside the curtains. I was promptly greeted by what appeared to be some rather irritated baboons; there were at least five of them, and they continued to knock on the glass door in a jarringly human-like way that elicited a louder screech from me than I’d like to admit. After a brief panic, wondering what I had done to get on the baboons’ bad side to elicit this banging and glaring like I had personally offended them, I ungracefully leapt out the door and walked to the main lodge. The rooms are separated from the main lodge area by raised walkways; at night and early in the morning, guides accompany you to and from your room for safety—we are, after all, mere visitors in the animals’ home.
By 7:30 a.m., we’re loaded up into the 4×4 and driving away from the lodge with Goustone. Before we even fully exited the Four Seasons property, we were driving by grasslands teeming with zebras and wildebeest. Soon after, we spotted giraffes just off the main road. Perhaps an hour into this first game drive, we encountered a lioness having a Pride Rock moment, sunning herself and, our guide told us, likely protecting her kill from the night.
Mid-morning, Goustone received a call on the radio, and began zooming to our next destination. We arrived minutes later; a male lion and a lioness were sunning themselves in the middle of the dirt road without a care in the world, seemingly undisturbed by the scattered vehicles with safari-goers. Despite the audience, the lions promptly began mating. I didn’t think that my first full day in the Serengeti would include an up close and personal viewing of the beginning of the circle of life, but here we were! “Lions can mate 70 times a day,” our guide informed us. Considering what we saw from the king of the jungle in less than 30 minutes, I’m inclined to believe the number isn’t even an exaggeration.
As an unabashed cat lady, I was holding out hope we’d also see some of the feline creatures that inhabit the Serengeti. But I was also aware that, as you’ll often hear while on safari, this wasn’t a zoo. It’s a sentiment that many forget; that the real magic here is the honor of being able to witness these animals in their natural habitat, though fortunately, our group fully understood this. There’s no guarantee you’ll see anything; it’s all luck—well, that’s not entirely true, because it’s also very much dependent on your guide. And it just so happened that our guide was one of the best.
After a relatively uneventful stretch, Goustone suggested going back to see the lions. But as we drove along afterward, he suddenly stopped, peering out in the distance at what looked to me like a horde of zebras and a whole lot of open land. Goustone pointed in the distance and started vrooming towards a far-off speck: “Do you see the cheetah?” he asked, to which I, someone with -12.5 vision who blindly flails around every morning and has to keep Google Docs at 125 percent zoom, replied in the negative.
As we approached, I finally saw her—a gorgeous cheetah, prowling a short distance from the zebra. The cheetah didn’t immediately run off once the car got closer; Goustone paused, looking around. “She’s guarding something,” he explained as I tried not to spontaneously combust from excitement. The cheetah trotted a few feet away, keeping watch of her surroundings, before picking something up in her mouth. I was personally thrilled it wasn’t an animal carcass—no, she was clutching her fluffy cub by its nape.
I did my best to tamp down my expectations, though I couldn’t help but cross my fingers that we’d get to see the elusive leopard soon. We got close the next day, when Goustone heard via the trusty radio that there had been a spotting, though we ended up in the kind of downpour you only experience in the Serengeti, and navigating the roads became akin to steering a boat through a swamp. Indeed, Goustone’s ability to safely maneuver the 4×4 through rain that sounded as aggressive as the baboons banging on my door is only a further demonstration of his incredible skill.
After a private dinner in the Four Seasons wine cellar that evening, with a tasting menu carefully curated by the chef (highlight included a risotto and mushroom soup), we all scurried back to our rooms in an attempt to get some sleep before our early wake-up call.
When my alarm went off the next morning, it was still pitch-black outside. I was in the lobby by 4 a.m., confirming I had signed the appropriate waivers for this morning’s activity: a balloon safari. Despite all of the preparation, it’s a gamble: you don’t know if you’ll actually be able to embark on the hot air balloon until you’ve driven over an hour to the takeoff spot at the crack of dawn. It’s all dependent on the weather, which could change in an instant. We were loaded into a vehicle before 5 a.m., but I didn’t mind a pre-dawn drive—after all, this was the Serengeti, and as I already knew, everything here was a game drive. And within minutes of leaving the hotel, we had our first sighting—a lioness prowling a few feet away from the car, hunting for her next meal.
It was still dark when we arrived at the wide-open field of the balloon departure location, but the sun was starting to rise as we headed to our designated hot air balloon, still unclear on if we’d actually be able to take off. But everything aligned, and we were cleared to go. There are so many different factors at play here, but Four Seasons Serengeti made it all seem effortless, coordinating with the balloon safari and handling all the logistics.
The entire trip was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but this felt particularly special—something that even some veteran safari-goers hadn’t tried out yet.
After another quick safety check, it was go-time. I gracelessly maneuvered into the basket with the rest of our group, and up we went, ascending more than 1,000 feet into the air as the Tanzanian landscape below grew smaller and smaller. Simply drinking in the grandeur of the Serengeti savannah made the excursion a success in my book, but there was more in store for us—during our time flitting through the sky, we spotted elephants, giraffes, hippos and other Serengeti inhabitants, from one of the most unique viewpoints.
If you’ve ever been in a hot air balloon, then you know that all landings are essentially controlled crashes—I’d only done it once before, in northern France nearly a decade prior. Due to shifts in the wind (the engineering here was beyond me), we ended up landing in a rather muddy, grassy field (largely thanks to the extra dose of Tanzanian rainfall we’d experienced the day before), where we waited a bit for the pick up to find us and take us to a picnic brunch in the middle of the Serengeti.
We weren’t planning on a true game drive that day, but you already know where this is going—Goustone picked us up, and the safari maestro that he is, led us almost immediately to the largest pack of elephants yet, this time including babies. He told us they were likely the very ones we’d seen from the balloon that morning. It was the closest we’d gotten to any elephants on the trip so far.
And then, Goustone got the call—a leopard had been spotted; a rarity at this time of day. We sped off, and were rewarded with our second cat sighting of the trip. This time, however, the leopard was, in fact, guarding a meal, in the form of a dead caracal carefully stowed in the tree. I silently reminded myself this was just another part of the circle of life.
I’d been impressed with the food throughout my stay at the Four Seasons Serengeti, including the daily breakfast and lunches at Kula Restaurant, and especially the dinner we’d experienced at Boma Grill, with a performance from the Maasai and authentic local cuisine, but I was particularly excited for dinner on our fourth and final night in Tanzania. It was dinner in the bush, where the hotel configures an elaborate (and yes, eco-friendly) meal in Serengeti National Park, with a barbeque, a fire pit, cocktails and more, culminating in a beautiful candlelit dinner at a long table.
It wasn’t just the food and the view that made dinner in the bush so special, though—it was also the people; both my fellow travel writers and those who organized this jaunt, and especially those who welcomed us to their country and all it has to offer, from our fearless guide, Goustone, to the Maasai who shared their traditions with us, to the local guards who took us on a mini walking safari, to the hotel staff who made us feel so at home. As a lion roared in the not-very-far distance, I was almost surprised that I felt not even a speck of fear at its nearness—no, instead, I felt unbelievably lucky to be gifted the opportunity to visit its home.