We woke up to find ourselves damp, dirty — and worse, late.  Under the down sleeping bags, I couldn’t hear the beeping of my watch alarm. Pablo had told us that the best time to spot cats is early in the morning, and we wanted to be in Ngorongoro crater by 7am — when it opens.  But it was already 6am.

I woke up Marjona and Lauren and the three of us started scrambling to get packed and out of the tent — without bumping the sides, which were covered in condensation.

Suddenly, we heard a sound outside. 

“Rowwwwwr…”

“What is that sound?” Lauren asked.

“Is that a baby?” I said.

“Rooooowwrrrrr!!!”

No, definitely not a baby.  It sounded like a cat.

“The only cats I know in Africa are really big cats,” Lauren worried.

Our minds started racing.  Could a lion cub have gotten away and come up into the camp last night?  Was the mother cat surely not far behind, angry and territorial?

We kept trying to get dressed, but all of us were too scared to leave the tents until the crying seemed to go away.  A little while later, we discovered the source of the sound: a domestic black cat peered down at us from the roof of the eating area as we walked in to get our breakfast… ‘Rooooooowrrr,’ it mocked us.

We scarfed down our breakfast and headed out.  Pablo wasn’t able to find any petrol (gas) the night before, and we were running low.  The three of us weren’t sure how low because the fuel gauge didn’t work.  But Pablo didn’t think it would be a problem, so we headed down to the crater.

Upon entering the crater, signs warned “Only 4WDs allowed beyond this point.  Engage 4WD now.”  There’s a $100 vehicle fee for entering the crater, and you’re required to go with a trained driver.

We would shortly understand why.  Entering the crater is a 1600-meter drop.  We slowly rolled down the dirt entrance road.  The mist was just rising off of the crater, and it was beautiful.  Lauren and I were standing up, heads popping out of the top of the Land Rover.

Early on, we spotted a huge heard of buffalo running out of the mist, right in front of our vehicle.  A few of the buffalo were butting heads, grunting and playing.

Soon after, we saw a family of wart hogs, looking almost as cute as they did in the Lion King.

Then, in the distance, Pablo spotted two black rhinos. It’s very lucky to see black rhinos, we were told, because there are only 20 left in the crater.  No one is allowed to hunt them anymore.  We took a few photographs and Pablo told us he thought he try to get closer.

We drove along another road and cut back, heading closer to the rhino.  Then we realized they were on the move.  Just as we pulled up, the rhinos — a mother and baby — ran across the road in front of us, just 20 feet away.

“Wow,” Pablo said.  “I have never seen a black rhino so close. You are very lucky.”

We were lucky, but we still hadn’t seen any lions, and I was getting anxious that we’d run out of time.

As we drove around, we saw three LandRovers all pulled up at one spot about a half a mile away.  Suddenly, I saw an orange streak.

“Cats!” I yelled.

As we pulled up, we saw that it was a male lion and one lioness.  The lion was laying on his back, sunning his stomach, much like Benny (Mr. Handsome!!) does at home.

“I think they are on a honeymoon,” Pablo told us.  “Wait 15 minutes, and they will…”  He winked at us.

We looked at each other.  Fifteen minutes?

Sure enough, fifteen minutes passed and the lion went up and approached the lioness.  She stayed squatted and he mounted her.  No less than 5 seconds later, she roared at him and he got off.

‘An aborted attempt?’ we wondered

“That was it,” Pablo said.  But we didn’t believe him.  “I’m telling you, 15 more minutes.”

After 15 minutes passed, the male lion was up at it again.  This time, the lioness roared at him and wouldn’t let him on.  He growled back but walked away, fell to one side and went back to sleep.

At this point, another 10 LandRovers had pulled up.

Finally, maybe five minutes later, the lioness got up, stretched and started walking — towards our Land Rover.  We all looked at each other, a bit frightened by her close proximity to the truck. The closer she came, the lower we sunk into the car, still snapping away with the digital, video rolling. But after a few steps, she stopped, and the lion followed and mounted her.

Another 5 seconds.  And it was done.

We laughed.  But the lions seemed completely oblivious to all of the people watching them.  They fell back asleep.

We decided to take off again to see other animals and not 20 minutes later, we came upon a pack of lionesses.  One lioness had decided that the shade provided by one of the parked Land Rovers was a perfect resting spot, and she had curled up against the tire.  The Land Rover couldn’t move, for fear of rolling on her, and the situation had created a major traffic jam in the crater.  Eventually, she got up, annoyed, and strolled into the field with the other four lionesses.

We also saw flamingos at a lake, more hyenas strolling about, gazelles, hippos (up close this time), zebras, and ostriches.

Around noon, we decided it was time to head out for lunch and then head back “home” to Arusha.  There was one road down and another road up, so Pablo headed toward the road that would lead us out.

As we headed out, we realized the roads were very muddy.  Ahead, we spotted a Land Rover stuck in the mud.  We got past him and waited to see if he’d make it out.  He did, but other members of his caravan told us to turn around — this route only got worse.

We turned around and headed in a different direction.  We slid in the mud, and Pablo had to do some skillful driving through mud holes and a huge pond that crossed the road and was almost 2 feet deep.

The road kept getting worse and worse.  Turn back, we were told again, this route is bad.  But we kept going forward because this was the only way.  In some places, the “roads” were nearly 30 feet wide where people kept trying to drive just outside of the mud pits, widening the road and creating a bigger mud pit.  It looked the roads hadn’t been maintained in years.

Pablo told us that he wanted to respect the “stay on the roads” rules, but the roads were completely washed out.  He was furious — we paid so much money, but where was it going?  Not to maintain the park.  He had no choice but to try to off road our way back to the exit road.

Lauren and I looked at each other.  Where did this put us with the gas?

A few more aborted attempts later, Pablo told us we’d just have to trust him.  There was one more route out, but it was very far away.  But it didn’t look like we could get out any other way.  We all sat back and let him drive.

Nearly and hour and a half later, we finally emerged from the crater, but it was still another half an hour back to the campsite.  We later learned that the Land Rover we had seen get stuck in the mud still hadn’t emerged from the crater — they had broken an axel, and maybe the radiator too, and would be stuck there for a long time.

Exhausted, we ate our lunches.  It had been a great safari, but three days — the “budget” deal — was more than enough for us.

Pablo left to go find gas — he was more successful this time — and when he returned we pack our bags on top and headed home.

Just an hour outside of Arusha, the Land Rover started choking.  In one of the bumps we’d hit on the bad road, we’d stung a minor gas leak, Pablo told us, and we’d run our of has.  Noel grabbed an empty vegetable oil jug, jumped on a matatu, and half an hour later, he returned to us with enough gas to get us back to our hostel.

We checked in and headed for the showers.  Afterwards, we met Pablo, Noel, Richard and Francis (another driver who didn’t go with us) upstairs in the bar for celebratory drinks and dinner.  It was a safari well done.