Simon Mattacks

You think for a moment that it might be waking, but it lets out a yawn and returns underwater. Tembo takes this as his cue to leave. Places to go, people to see. He turns by the poolside and resumes his journey, trekking in what he says is a southeasterly direction. For a while now, you walk on in silence, happy to take in the views around you.

You think for a moment that it might be waking, but it lets out a yawn and returns underwater. Tembo takes this as his cue to leave. Places to go, people to see. He turns by the poolside and resumes his journey, trekking in what he says is a southeasterly direction. For a while now, you walk on in silence, happy to take in the views around you.

You think for a moment that it might be waking, but it lets out a yawn and returns underwater. Tembo takes this as his cue to leave. Places to go, people to see. He turns by the poolside and resumes his journey, trekking in what he says is a southeasterly direction. For a while now, you walk on in silence, happy to take in the views around you.

You pass more flat plains, more trees and forests, and more rock copiers dotted around the land. The Tanzanian air is fresh and lovely. You can still smell the fragrance of sweet, ripe guava. It hangs on the elephant, too, as if he'd sprayed it like a perfume. Tembo's footsteps are slow and steady and hushed slightly on the sandy pathways.

You pass more flat plains, more trees and forests, and more rock copiers dotted around the land. The Tanzanian air is fresh and lovely. You can still smell the fragrance of sweet, ripe guava. It hangs on the elephant, too, as if he'd sprayed it like a perfume. Tembo's footsteps are slow and steady and hushed slightly on the sandy pathways.

You pass more flat plains, more trees and forests, and more rock copiers dotted around the land. The Tanzanian air is fresh and lovely. You can still smell the fragrance of sweet, ripe guava. It hangs on the elephant, too, as if he'd sprayed it like a perfume. Tembo's footsteps are slow and steady and hushed slightly on the sandy pathways.

They echo quietly above the sound of the breeze that whistles through the grass. You also hear the songs of many birds cooing, chirping, and tweeting. No two voices ever sound quite the same, Some are deep and booming, while others are high-pitched and twinkly. The red-eyed dove looks a little like a pigeon, but its gentle cooing reminds you of an owl.

They echo quietly above the sound of the breeze that whistles through the grass. You also hear the songs of many birds cooing, chirping, and tweeting. No two voices ever sound quite the same, Some are deep and booming, while others are high-pitched and twinkly. The red-eyed dove looks a little like a pigeon, but its gentle cooing reminds you of an owl.

They echo quietly above the sound of the breeze that whistles through the grass. You also hear the songs of many birds cooing, chirping, and tweeting. No two voices ever sound quite the same, Some are deep and booming, while others are high-pitched and twinkly. The red-eyed dove looks a little like a pigeon, but its gentle cooing reminds you of an owl.

A colourful little bird, called a white-fronted beater, has a high-pitched squeak which reminds you of a mouse. Most of the birds that you hear along the way are hidden from sight or far in the distance. Their gorgeous voices echo across the land from bushes, branches, and the tops of the coppice. When you do occasionally see a bird close up, you're amazed by the colors and details.

A colourful little bird, called a white-fronted beater, has a high-pitched squeak which reminds you of a mouse. Most of the birds that you hear along the way are hidden from sight or far in the distance. Their gorgeous voices echo across the land from bushes, branches, and the tops of the coppice. When you do occasionally see a bird close up, you're amazed by the colors and details.

A colourful little bird, called a white-fronted beater, has a high-pitched squeak which reminds you of a mouse. Most of the birds that you hear along the way are hidden from sight or far in the distance. Their gorgeous voices echo across the land from bushes, branches, and the tops of the coppice. When you do occasionally see a bird close up, you're amazed by the colors and details.

The golden-breasted starling is mostly teal and purple, though its chest is as yellow as the fruit of a mango. Its two-tone plumage has a metallic sheen, so its colors look different depending on the light. You've never seen a bird with feathers quite like it. It's as if the creature were made of silk. The yellow-billed hornbill is admittedly less glamorous.

The golden-breasted starling is mostly teal and purple, though its chest is as yellow as the fruit of a mango. Its two-tone plumage has a metallic sheen, so its colors look different depending on the light. You've never seen a bird with feathers quite like it. It's as if the creature were made of silk. The yellow-billed hornbill is admittedly less glamorous.

The golden-breasted starling is mostly teal and purple, though its chest is as yellow as the fruit of a mango. Its two-tone plumage has a metallic sheen, so its colors look different depending on the light. You've never seen a bird with feathers quite like it. It's as if the creature were made of silk. The yellow-billed hornbill is admittedly less glamorous.

It has a snow-white chest with black and white wings. Its hooked beak is like a down-curved banana, yellow and striking. The large bird reminds you of a turkey, and it makes a clucking noise. It sounds like it's laughing. You watch the hornbill as it clucks from a tree branch, bent over slightly, as if it can't contain its laughter.

It has a snow-white chest with black and white wings. Its hooked beak is like a down-curved banana, yellow and striking. The large bird reminds you of a turkey, and it makes a clucking noise. It sounds like it's laughing. You watch the hornbill as it clucks from a tree branch, bent over slightly, as if it can't contain its laughter.

It has a snow-white chest with black and white wings. Its hooked beak is like a down-curved banana, yellow and striking. The large bird reminds you of a turkey, and it makes a clucking noise. It sounds like it's laughing. You watch the hornbill as it clucks from a tree branch, bent over slightly, as if it can't contain its laughter.

It's a sound that stays with you once the bird has long gone and you've traveled past hills and across plains and valleys. You feel your guide's pace slowing as you approach your destination. It's a place called Ngorongoro. Tembo explains that it's a conservation area where animals are safe and protected.

It's a sound that stays with you once the bird has long gone and you've traveled past hills and across plains and valleys. You feel your guide's pace slowing as you approach your destination. It's a place called Ngorongoro. Tembo explains that it's a conservation area where animals are safe and protected.