When I left off, we'd just watched a lioness carry her cub across the plain in 3.5 unforgettable seconds. But the Mara, I was about to learn, had a great deal more to say — some of it on wings, some of it half-submerged in a rather smelly creek, and some of it worth risking our necks for on the very last morning.

Beyond the Big Sightings

By day two, we'd seen an awful lot of lions and elephants, and had chased a leopard rumour that came to nothing more than a distant shape, with a headshot over 200 metres away, in a conservancy we couldn't cross into. Frustrating, but that's safari — you don't get to dictate terms to the wildlife.

And somewhere in amongst all that chasing, I had a bit of an epiphany.

I started noticing everything else. Sounds strange, I know, but it took a deliberate attention to realise what else was going on... 

B&W: Giraffe and an Acacia tree on the Mara

The gazelle. The wildebeest, in their thousands, doing whatever it is that wildebeest do. The jackals, slinking about with that permanently guilty look. The zebra, that impossible pattern making no sense and total sense at the same time.

This is a Common Eland - easily passed by - but look at those gorgeous lines and intense eyes

Isaac knew the whereabouts of a hyena lair and so he took us one afternoon, and there was a distinctly charged feeling in the air as we sat watching in the wagon — these aren't animals with a reputation for charity, and you could feel that reputation hanging over the encounter even as the pups tumbled about pretending to be oblivious to our presence. Fascinating creatures, much maligned, and worth every minute of patient stalking. 

Couldn't help but be reminded of Goldilocks and the three bears

And the birds. Oh, the birds.....

A gray-crowned crane - appears on the national flag of Uganda

I hadn't expected the birds. But once I started looking properly, I couldn't stop — the colours on some of these creatures are jaw-dropping, and they're everywhere, all the time, doing their own quiet business while everyone else's camera points at the cats.

A Hildebrandt's Starling preparing to alight a thorny landing site...!

Here's the thing about that shift in attention, though — it's not just a nice sentiment, it's genuinely useful. Once you stop waiting for the next lion or elephant and start enjoying each and every minute for what is in eyesight, you've got wall-to-wall subject matter, all day, every day. And there's a second benefit that matters even more: it gets the very best out of your guide. These men know an extraordinary amount about the flora, the smaller creatures, the signs in the landscape most visitors don't ask about it and walk straight past — and Isaac visibly lit up when he realised I was interested in all of it, not just what he probably thought of as the low-hanging fruit. The petrichor conversation was part of that too. Show a genuine interest in the whole experience — not just the postcard moments — and your guide gives you more of everything in return.

Malachite Kingfisher keeping a watchful eye over the Mara

Little Bee-Eater chasing some bees

Male Von Der Decken's Hornbill  - sitting majestically

The Mara, I was starting to realise, isn't just lions. It's everything, all at once, and every bit of it rewards you for paying attention.

The Hippo Standoff

Then there was the time somebody took a dislike to me. That somebody being a hippopotamus.

We'd stopped at a creek that served as the local hippo meeting place — a spot they were basking in, in water that was, let's say, richly malodorous. Isaac said it was fine to get out, so I did, though not without reminding myself that hippos kill more people annually than any other large land animal in Africa, and that whatever speed they can manage over short distances, it's considerably faster than I can manage.

Early on, I noticed one female had her eyes fixed on me. Properly fixed. I took a photograph of her — she looked so intently focused that I couldn't not — and the air felt, for want of a better word, charged. I turned away, photographed a few of the others, then looked back.

She hadn't moved a muscle. Eyes still burning straight at me.

This hippopotamus stare gave me some cause for concern....!

I got back on the wagon rather more quickly than I'd got off it.

The Leopard, At Last

Every evening back at camp, the same ritual played out over dinner. Someone would ask, "Hi Colin, Did you see a leopard today?" And every night, our answer was no. It became a running joke — the one sighting the Mara seemed determined to deny us, while other guests wandered in with videos/images and experiences of leopards strolling casually in and around their vehicles.

On our last morning, we were meant to be doing something gentler — a bush breakfast near the camp, with a mid-morning flight out to catch. Isaac was forever hopeful and he faithfully contacted his warden mates in a last ditch attempt to see if we could sight a leopard.

It was all pretty low key and enjoyable, seeing new birds and having a relaxed start to the day when Isaac got a call from a warden he trusted. A leopard sighting.

"When are we due at the bush breakfast?" I asked.

"Thirty minutes."

"How far away is the leopard?"

"Twenty-five minutes."

"Can you do it in fifteen?"

Isaac smiled. "Of course."

What followed was the single most white-knuckle vehicle ride I have ever experienced — and between the army and years in emergency medicine, that is not a low bar to clear. This beat all of it, hands down.

Mother leopard descending her vantage point - little did we know she was not alone

But it was worth every bone-jarring second. We caught sight of her descending from a tree, cool, calm, entirely unhurried by our frankly undignified arrival. Isaac executed some seriously committed four-wheel-drive work to get us across a genuinely difficult creek crossing, chasing her loose trail through the undergrowth — and there she was on the other side.

Still not giving anything away - Mum was checking the area

Then the incredible happened - a cub appeared. Just a few yards away. Utterly unbothered by the two ridiculous humans who'd nearly broken their necks to be there. It ran up to Mum - jumping over her and then started to patrol with her. .

This is why she was checking things out - enter leopard cub - equally beautiful and equally majestic as Mum

A true privilege, just as we started the final page of our story.

Well done, Isaac. Team member extraordinary.

The Five Senses

Looking back, the Mara got to me through every sense at once — seeing such beauty in all its forms, the smell of rain on dry earth, the taste of Prosecco at sunset, hearing lions roaring somewhere unseen in the dark, feeling every road bump and shudder in my spine as we raced through the Mara in the hope of glimpsing a leopard . That's what stays with you longer than any single photograph.

Hopefully the prose and especially the images have allowed you to appreciate the magic of our safari.

Top Tip: Photograph Everything

Don't wait for the next lion or elephant. Every creature out there — birds, gazelle, hyenas, the lot — is worth your lens, and treating it that way pays off twice over: you're never short of subject matter, and your guide will give you far more when he sees you're genuinely interested in his whole country, not just the obvious highlights.

Happy travelling and happy shooting!

Warm regards,

Colin