For a person who doesn't believe in breakfast. Heaps of fresh mangoes, bright red watermelon, deliciously pink papayas, tangy kiwis, pancakes that tasted like crepes and the whiff of savory freshly made omlettes and the aroma of strong coffee was a bit mucb even for this breakfast denier. So armed with full belly we boarded the waiting the land raisers and made our way to Tarangirey National Park.

We drove through small towns and villages, with their colorful markets, passed small white-washed missionary schools, for about an hour. The landscape suddenly opened up to where the yellow arid land stretched to the Munduli mountains, broken only by a acacia bushes, the beautiful yet poisonous, Euphoria Candelabra trees and the red and black checked clothes of Masai herdsmen tending to their cattle. The scenery changed a bit with large strangely shaped Baobab trees looking like strange carvings of a madman. Dotting the land. A turn on the road suddenly brought us to a waterhole where colorfully clad masai women were loading water into large cans under the watchful eye of a herd of zebras - our first sighting of nature's black and white painted masterpieces.

After about a total of 3-ish hours on the road we were at the gates of Tarangire. After a quick packed lunch we were on our way to the first day of safari. The next 3 hours were a mixture of sheer awe, disbelief that we were actually here and pure bliss. We watched as the the black-faced wildebeast roamed in herds around us, stopped at zebra crossings (pun intended!), gawked at hugging zebras, remembered Pumba as we saw the warthogs, spotted monkeys grooming each other, gazelles and Waterbuck grazing a few feet away from us, and mongoose scurring away, while bright blue birds and bright spotted ones danced from one bush to another.

And then we saw them - herds of African elephants their whites tusks shining in the sun, walking towards us in their majestic gait. The tiny little ones were like toddlers, needing to be corralled by their parents. We also saw a few giraffes wandering the bushes when suddenly a hush fell on a the jeeps. Far into the horizon, well camouflaged by the yellow grass was a lone lion. And as the sun set amd we made our way back, it left us wanting for more.

As we made our way to our night stop, we stopped for coffee and drinks at the African Art center in Karatu, and sipping on a cold glass of Aawa - a close cousin of the Mohito with Masai honey instead of casacha surrounded by richly carved ebony figures. Bronze figurines, and rich Arfican art, we could only count out blessings. As night fell, we made our way to the stunning Hi View coffee lodge through red dirt roads, and were greeted by an array of Indian food with hints of African spices. As the night deepened, sitting around the lounge, the manager, a Masai himself, told us stories of the ancient culture when men ruled, women didn't have a voice, and the coming of age meant knocking down a tooth using a knife and fighting a lion.