In the shadow of giants

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Despite being slap bang in the middle of Tanzania’s famed northern safari circuit, Tarangire National Park feels anything but famous, receiving a mere fraction of the region’s visitors. Matthew Covarr travels inside to find out why and discovers a wealth of wildlife and dramatic landscapes. So what is holding Tarangire back? "Bwana. Mister. Some of our elephants, they block the sun,” enthuses a beaming park ranger at the gate to Tarangire National Park in northern Tanzania. I’m told that he’s referring to the large male elephants that roam this vast landscape of baobab trees, grass plains and rocky hills, drinking from the sluggish ribbon of water that twists through it all. With places such as the Serengeti, Ngorongoro Crater, Manyara and Kilimanjaro all situated within Tanzania’s northern safari circuit, it’s easy to see why Tarangire battles for recognition. No matter how impressive the wildlife viewing is in Tarangire, most tourists will continue to pour into the East African country to visit the big-name parks that they’ve long dreamed of, even if the ensuing experiences could be less rewarding. As we arrive at the first water hole, I’m only too happy to discover what other people’s oversights mean to me – a complete lack of the usual line up of safari vehicles. It’s just us and a large herd of relaxed zebras. If it’s huge numbers of elephants that you’re after, this certainly is the place to see them. With their population estimated to be in the region of 2500 to 3000 individuals, Tarangire boasts an elephant density greater than any other Tanzanian park or reserve. Topped off by a full range of predators and an abundance of birdlife, the overall experience here is unlikely to disappoint even the most avid safari critic. But it’s during the dry season, between July and October, that Tarangire really comes into its own. The 2600-square-kilometre park remains part of a wider migratory ecosystem. During the rains, most of Tarangire’s wildlife moves eastwards towards the Maasai Steppe, while zebra and wildebeest herds move northeast onto the Rift Valley floor. Once water and grazing grasses in these areas become scarce, the permanent waters of the Tarangire River draw herds back into the park. This migration results in high animal concentrations along the river and in the southern swamps, creating the second-highest herbivore density in all of Tanzania. Considering its wildlife riches clearly can’t be to blame for its lack of pulling power in the tourism department, the only other potential explanation (other than its lacking a famous name) is the park’s location. Is it set in the middle of nowhere and accessed only by back- and bum-breaking dirt tracks? No. Amazingly, the park is incredibly well connected to Arusha, the bustling safari capital of Tanzania, by 120km of surfaced roads, making it just over an hour’s journey. However, with 585 square kilometres of conservation area separating the city and the park, the journey here certainly makes you fell like you are driving deep into the far reaches of the African bush. With all this in mind, and with my map in hand, I realise that during our first day of meandering along Tarangire’s northern riverbank roads, we’ve barely sunk our teeth into what this park has to offer. The variety of landscapes and wildlife encounters is exceptional. The baobab trees rise out of the rugged landscape with domineering authority closer to the Tarangire River. The rocky terrain eases out gently onto a sandy floodplain. Herds of elephant concentrate along the river’s sandy banks, while birds continue their frenzy of activity on the water’s edge. The wide grass plains wave lazily between thickets of acacia, and the customary herds of zebra and wildebeest move like ants along well-worn paths to and from the river. Giraffe are scattered across the undulating landscape. Surprisingly, since they see far fewer vehicles than animals in other parks, the wildlife here are less bothered by our vehicle’s presence. We stop for lunch in the shade of an enormous fig tree. A troop of baboons keep us entertained with their constant skirmishes and energetic gathering of bits and pieces off the ground. It’s this ability to sit for hours, simply watching what happens around you, that adds to the park’s unique feel. It’s a place that needs to be explored slowly, and with a number of perfectly positioned viewpoints along the river and around the hills, there are plenty of ideal spots to stop and relax, letting the wildlife come to you. The afternoon fades away while we watch an enormous herd of buffalo grazing, seemingly unbothered by our presence. As the sun begins to cast its evening hue over Tarangire Hill, a rocky outcrop forming an unmistakable landmark visible throughout the reserve, we make our way slowly back towards camp. Travelling along rocky tracks that look down onto the riverbed, it’s easy to see where the slow-flowing river occasionally disappears beneath the sandy surface, emerging a few hundred metres later to take its course again. It’s at one of these sections where we spot two elephant bulls digging with gentle precision for water below the surface. Their trunks quickly hit pay dirt and they happily quench their thirst with the proceeds. Back in camp, we sit under a sky saturated with blazing pink and orange, and wait to be surrounded by darkness. The campfire soon crackles in the background, shedding light on our situation and providing hot coals for our pot of vegetable stew. For keen campers, the Tanzanian Parks Authority (TANAPA) offer clean facilities with flush toilets and cold showers at their public campsite, which is situated some 10km from the entrance gate. Set in a scenic location near a large water hole, the camp often receives visitors during the night such as giraffe and elephant who feed on trees within the camp itself. Most national parks in the country offer a second camping option known as ‘special campsites’. Offering no facilities whatsoever, they are actually priced at a slightly higher rate than public campsites. Confusing as this may seem, these sites are marketed entirely on their exclusivity and require one to be fully self-sufficient. Set in ideal locations, they provide an opportunity to camp and experience the bush in complete isolation. But Tarangire isn’t all about canvas tents, folding chairs and camping kettles.... To subscribe or buy back issues, click here  Two lodges are situated within the park itself, The Tarangire Sopa Lodge, situated further south from Tarangire Hill, and Tarangire Safari Lodge, which offers breathtaking views over the river. These are both midrange accommodation options, available on a half-board and full-board basis. Both lodges are also open to day visitors wishing simply to stop in for coffee, and may be the perfect place to sit and do some bird watching away from the confines of a vehicle. For those seeking that extra bit of comfort while still feeling part of a safari experience, there are several luxurious tented camps operating within the reserve, such as Oliver’s Camp, Swala Camp, Nomad Tarangire and Mawe Ninga Tented Camp. There are also several operations just outside the park’s boundaries. We’re up at sunrise the following day, enjoying the cool of the early morning hours before a rapidly rising sun melts it away. While water boils and coffee brews, we gather field guides and bird books, eager to explore the southern and central areas of the park. During the drier months, the Tarangire landscape displays the typical beige and brown hues associated with African savannah. However, south of Tarangire Hill, an unusual sea of lush green opens out over the horizon, its deep colour broken only by the small groups of elephant moving like ships through the wet foliage. This is the Silale Swamp, a place that offers a refreshing perspective over the dry and rocky geography of the north. Water and grazing opportunities attract herds of zebra, wildebeest and buffalo. It’s also a birdwatchers utopia. Fish eagles grace the branches of tall acacias lining the swamp edge, and storks – both the saddle-billed and yellow-billed varieties – feed in open pools along with several other water birds. Silale certainly adds a cool contrast to Tarangire’s rugged north. Gazing out over this remote wetland from the Silale picnic site, I can’t help feeling alone in this vast wilderness. There are even fewer people here than in the more accessible northern sections of the park. From Silale and the nearby Gursi swamp, seldom-used tracks follow the river southwards to what transforms into a dry and somewhat barren landscape. Many tracks in this area are actually off-limits, functioning only as service roads for the park rangers. Oddly, it’s knowing that so much of the park exists beyond its road network that adds to the feeling of space and solitude. While making our way back towards the public campsite, we spot a small group of lesser kudu camouflaged against the lower slopes of Tarangire Hill. These rare antelope, along with fringe eared oryx and gerenuk make up a trio of species seldom sighted in Tanzania. We make a last stop at a clearing above a bend on the Tarangire River. The sun hangs low, casting its orange glow over the gradual curve of water. A long line of zebra and wildebeest snakes down the grass slope to the river’s edge. Nervously they move closer, each taking turns to drink. The age-old cycle for food and water continues. I ponder over Tarangire’s situation within the northern safari circuit and part of me selfishly hopes that it’s popularity as a tourist destination doesn’t grow. That said, there is plenty of room for those who cherish the bush and its accompanying wildlife. This story won’t shift the mass market and send floods of tourists Tarangire’s way – its name just can’t compete with the Serengeti or Ngorongoro in the minds of one-time safari goers who are looking for ‘legendary’ campfire tales. A movement catches my attention in the distance. I turn slightly and notice some elephant bulls making their way down the slope towards my 4WD. Moving quickly, they are soon striding past us. These certainly are massive creatures, and as one approaches we start up and gently back away to give it some space. Persistent, the elephant continues its gentle migration towards us, making the Land Rover suddenly seem like a matchbox toy. I was just hoping the elephant wasn’t about to act like a destructive child. After an effortless display of dominance, the elephant finally turns and starts to stride away from us, it’s shadow briefly enveloping us and our vehicle. My thoughts turn back to the park ranger at the main gate. Clearly he was right.

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