Most safari itineraries are a list of parks. Ours have a list of parks and then a lot of space around them, because the best parts of our own trip were the things we asked for on the day.
At every airport we landed in, there were schoolchildren on a field trip — out to see an airport and an airplane for the first time. So we walked over to them and their teachers. We played with them, took photos, hugged them. For a lot of those kids we were probably the first white people they’d met up close. It cost us twenty minutes and it’s one of the first things we both think about.
Near Bwindi we could hear a Batwa community from our lodge, so we asked to go and visit. Tracy sews and alters clothes for a living. She saw women working on old foot-pedal machines, asked if she could try one, and they handed it over. We stayed — played with the children, ate with the community, and talked with the women late into the night.
The next day, after the gorilla trek, we passed a wedding being set up. We asked whether we could come and watch. It turned out the same Batwa women were going, so we drove them there. They gave Tracy a dress to wear. We ate with the wedding party and the family and tribe leaders, danced with them and with the children, made a donation, and were welcomed as guests of honour.
In Nairobi we asked to visit Kibera — not to look at poverty, but to meet people and see how a huge, working community actually lives. A local man guided us. He’d brought bags of candy, and once word spread, children and a few adults lined up for a piece each. Barton ended up playing soccer with them beside an enormous trash pile and the railway line that runs between the wealthy part of the city and the settlement.
None of that was on the itinerary. Every bit of it happened because we asked, and because we had our own vehicle, our own guide, and no group of strangers waiting on us.
That is the practical argument for a private safari, and it’s the one most operators don’t make. It isn’t really about comfort or exclusivity. It’s that a fixed departure cannot stop for a wedding.
We don’t schedule spontaneity — that would defeat it. What we do is leave room for it, and make sure the people around you can say yes.
Plenty of people want the wildlife and nothing else, and that’s a completely legitimate trip. We’ll build that instead and not push you toward anything.
But if you’re the kind of traveler who’d rather eat at the wedding than photograph it from the road — tell us. That’s the trip we know best, because it’s the one we took.
