Heat, Dust, and an Elephant at Our Campsite

Over the long weekend, we headed north to Shaba for another family adventure with my cousin and some friends. And the moment we arrived, it felt like stepping into a completely different world.

The journey itself already felt like travelling through different climates.

In Nanyuki, it had been cold and rainy, which caused Leo Ferdinand to complain:

“I came to Africa and I’m freezing!”

A few hours later in Shaba, the complaints changed completely.

“Now it’s far too hot!”

Shaba feels very different from Ol Pejeta or Rutundu Lake. The landscape is dry, rugged, and dramatic, reminding us a little of the Turkana region. There are fewer animals here, but the wilderness somehow feels even bigger, more remote and more raw.

We camped right beside the river, surrounded by trees and open plains. It was stunning.

The river beside our campsite looked tempting, but the water was too deep and completely brown. None of us felt eager to find out whether crocodiles were hiding beneath the surface.

Eventually, though, the heat became impossible to ignore.

So we followed the river upstream, where the stream rushed between the rocks, shallow enough to feel safe and cool enough to be irresistible. The children jumped in immediately while my cousin and I stood nearby, making sure nobody drifted too far with the current.

Within minutes, everyone was soaked, laughing, and completely happy.

The game drives were just as memorable.

One of our funniest discoveries was a strange-looking gazelle with an incredibly long neck, standing alone in the bushes. At first, we genuinely wondered whether something was wrong with it.

Only later did we discover that it was a gerenuk, often called the “giraffe gazelle.”

We still could not decide whether we found them elegant or slightly ridiculous, but they were fascinating to watch.

We also noticed that the animals in Shaba were far less used to cars than those in Ol Pejeta. Here, many disappeared into the bush the moment they heard us approaching, unlike in Ol Pejeta, where animals often stand calmly beside the road.

The children loved every second of the drives. Sitting on top of the car, feeling the wind, and scanning the landscape for animals quickly became one of their favourite parts of the trip. On some of the long straight roads, they were even allowed to steer the car for a little while, which instantly became a major highlight.

Then came one of the most unforgettable moments of the weekend.

Late in the evening, while getting the children ready for bed, we suddenly heard an elephant trumpeting somewhere near the campsite.

A little later, we actually saw it.

Only about twenty metres away.

For a moment, we all fell completely silent, watching carefully to see what it would do next. It was thrilling and slightly nerve wracking at the same time. Two of the children were already asleep in the tents, and I found myself wondering whether an elephant would simply walk straight through a campsite if it wanted to.

So we stood there quietly, watching the elephant’s every move.

Thankfully, the guards remained completely calm and made sure the elephant did not come any closer.

Throughout the weekend, we saw elephants, Grevy’s zebras, monkeys, impalas, gazelles, antelopes, enormous termite mounds, and countless beautiful birds.

On our final evening in Shaba, we climbed onto a rocky outcrop overlooking the endless plains.

One of those moments where everything suddenly becomes quiet.

Looking out across the vast landscape, with mountains rising in the distance, you realise just how extraordinary and beautiful this country truly is, and how fortunate we have been to experience so much of it together over these past months.

Yesterday, we returned home tired, dusty, and deeply happy.

Now, with our time in Kenya slowly drawing to a close, we found ourselves pulled back to Ol Pejeta one more evening, simply to watch the animals as the sun disappeared behind the plains.

We are soaking in every remaining moment.

And somehow, now that the journey is nearly over, none of us feel quite ready to leave. It reminded me of something our friends keep saying: anyone who comes to Africa with an open heart will carry it in their heart forever.