NightingTales: The Great Migration
A blog written by Nightingale traveller Richard Kitzinger who travelled to Africa in August 2026.
They say that the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. So it was with my bucket list trip to see the Great Migration on the Masai Mara in Kenya. Eighteen
months in the planning, over a year since booking and just a fortnight to go before
departure when an email dropped into my inbox explaining that due to its founder’s sudden death, the safari camp was closed.
With international flights booked and even the domestic flight from Nairobi to the
Mara confirmed, there was no question of cancelling the entire trip. I went into
overdrive to find a replacement safari, in full knowledge that this would be no mean feat at short notice and in high season due to the wildebeest migration.
An old friend put me in touch with Matt from Nightingale Luxury Travel and, although it was already past beer o’clock on a Friday evening, he took my call and set about reassuring me that he’d find something. By Tuesday afternoon I’d booked a whole new safari through Nightingale and Matt had also sorted out the onward ground arrangements to tie in with the original plans. With dreams – and a lot of money on the line – it was such a relief to have somebody reliable rescue the situation and take charge of co-ordinating things between the UK, my cousins in South Africa who I’d be meeting in Nairobi and the Kenyan lodges.
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Seringet Mara Camp was more than we could have hoped for. Not only was it ideally positioned, near the confluence of the Mara and Talek Rivers in the heart of the area where the herds cross in search of greener grass, but the entire staff genuinely wanted to make this the most welcoming and memorable destination possible. From the room steward to the pool attendant, from the gardener to the camp manager, from the kitchen staff to the askari (Maasai guards) who escorted us from dinner back to our tents after dark, it clearly mattered to everyone we encountered there that we had the time of our lives. I’m happy to confirm that we did.
You know a place is special when you can sit on the loo without fear of interruption by another person and yet enjoy a view over the savannah as three elephants lumber past. On another occasion I looked up from my book to take a sip of the peppermint tea delivered to my tent to see a pair of giraffes looking curiously across at me from barely fifty metres away.
At the end of the day, as I slid into my cosy bed, warmed by the thoughtfully placed hot water bottle, there were no anxieties about nocturnal wildlife. The askari were always close at hand to ward off anything intruding too close to camp. So the symphony of insects, accompanied by hippos grunting as they grazed nearby, lions roaring somewhere in the vicinity and the excitable whooping of hyaenas only served to lull me into sleep, exhausted from the day’s viewing.
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Seeing a river crossing of the wildebeest herd was not guaranteed. Nature is
unpredictable and no promises could be made. What we knew for certain was that our driver-guide, Ryan, and his spotter, Alphus, would work as hard as they could to make our Great Migration dream come true. We established on our first afternoon that the bulk of the herd was already on the opposite bank of the Mara River from us in the Masai Mara National Reserve, in what is known as the Mara Triangle. Out on the plains of the National Reserve there were very few wildebeest though that didn’t mean we didn’t enjoy good sightings.
Alphus pointed out a melanistic zebra where the pattern was dominated by black
rather than white stripes and we found a puddle of sleeping lionesses though one
was allowing her two cubs to fill up on milk. I spotted a couple of black-backed
jackals trotting through the long dry grass and appreciated the opportunity to spend a bit more time observing these most elegant creatures go about their business.
The team at Seringet made arrangements for us to spend a whole day in the Mara Triangle in order to enhance our chances of seeing a crossing so we set off - as the hot air balloons took to the sky in front of the rising sun – with both picnic breakfast and lunch packed. This was not a Big 5 safari quest. Our goal was very much to see a river crossing. Yet, by the time we entered the Mara Triangle an hour or so after leaving camp, we had seen buffalo, elephant and a splendid lion sitting above his wildebeest kill on the far side of the Mara River.
It didn’t take long to work out why the wildebeest were favouring the Mara Triangle. Though it was literally on the opposite bank of the Mara River, it had clearly rained more there. The grass really was greener on the other side and this had attracted tens of thousands of wildebeest. For an hour or so we drove across the plains, surrounded by throngs of animals. At times it appeared more that there were small patches of green grass showing through the clamour of wildebeest, topi and zebra rather than great numbers of animals grazing on the lush pastures.
Ryan’s local knowledge took us to a fine vantage point above the Mara River where we waited patiently for the herd to arrive. The anticipation is hard to describe, the closest comparison I can think of is having tickets to see a favourite rock group and waiting for months before the big day arrives. Even then, when you’re in the stadium and you know they must be there too, there’s still some lingering doubt about if and when they’ll appear and whether they’ll play their greatest hits.
This part of the herd, probably a hundred and twenty or so wildebeest, was
meticulous about their ‘sound check’. On four occasions they came down the slopes to the water’s edge, the most adventurous coming to the front and having a drink and examining the river. On four occasions they turned tail en masse and fled back up the cliff, sending a storm of sand skywards. One time they were put off by the vociferous chorus of grunts from two rival pods of hippos, either side of the crossing point. Another time a crocodile snapped from the shallows, hastening the herd’s retreat, on yet another occasion they were spooked by a large crocodile basking on the beach before they even thought about entering the river and, the fourth time, who knows what put them off?
A whole afternoon had gone by, we had eaten our lunch in the vehicle and a good
number of the assembled ranks of safari jeeps on the far bank had given up and
gone back to camp by the time the wildebeest moseyed back down to the river. After hours of patient anticipation, there was no time to wonder whether they would chicken out once more. As if the aforementioned rock superstars launched straight into the chords of their best-known song, the lead wildebeest strode confidently into the water, lengthened their strides and then galloped and swam across the channel.
All it took was for the frontrunners to head into the river. The wildebeest followed in
procession for the next three and a half minutes. One after another they plunged in and leapt onwards, their rear quarters bucking skywards as they powered through the current. The air filled with the cacophonous sound of hooves thundering through the river and the urgent grunted exhortations of the animals to drive onwards, through the dangerous waters, to the promised land on the other side. Danger did indeed lurk in the river. A crocodile made its move on the very last wildebeest and rose above the surface, jaws wide and teeth bared. And missed.
The entire herd crossed unscathed and trotted out between the few remaining
In spite of planning this trip for well over a year, it was a pinch-me moment. I
applauded, my cousin gasped with joy and Ryan breathed a sigh of relief that he had been able to deliver on his guests’ wishlist. A very special day was capped with my very first sighting of a serval, spotted on our approach to camp by Alphus. The slender cat was on her evening hunt in the long grasses.
Back at Seringet Mara Camp, our hosts were almost as excited as we were that our mission to see the herd cross the river had been a success. Florian, the manager, opened a bottle of bubbles to toast the triumph and we recounted the afternoon’s adventure ad infinitum over a delicious spiced lamb dinner.
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We were not done yet. In our remaining time on the Mara we saw mating lions, a
cheetah atop a termite mound and a leopard pass directly by our vehicle. We
attempted another two river crossings that the herd refused which only served to
underline how special our sighting had been.
When we left the Masai Mara, the driver who took us to Lake Naivasha and on to
Lake Nakuru before returning us to Nairobi was knowledgeable, obliging and – best of all – a thoroughly responsible driver. Once again Nightingale Luxury Travel had sorted all the arrangements impeccably, including a memorable diversion to allow us to stand bestride the equator.
Barely a fortnight earlier our longstanding plans had lain in tatters but, thanks to
Nightingale Luxury Travel, it all came back together and our dream of experiencing the migrating wildebeest crossing a river was fulfilled. It was truly a rockstar rescue act.
Written by Richard Kitzinger, a freelance travel writer and graduate of Bath Spa University’s Masters course in Travel and Nature Writing, travelled to Kenya’s Masai Mara, Lake Nakuru and Lake Naivasha with Nightingale Luxury Travel.
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