North to Natron

With his love of the remote and the supernatural, it wasn’t going to be long before Matthew Covarr veered north off Tanzania’s famed safari circuit to take in Lake Natron and the Mountain of the God. Would he end up begging for mercy, or begging for more? Pondering over a map of Tanzania’s northern fringe often feels like planning a trip through a world-class exhibit of natural history, with places such as Olduvai Gorge and the Nguruman Escarpment flanked by geological giants such as Kilimanjaro and the Great Rift Valley. However, as I found out on my recent trip to Lake Natron, it’s not always the region’s biggest names or its most monumental landscapes that leave the largest impression on those who visit. Spread out across a remote part of the Great Rift Valley floor in northern Tanzania lies Lake Natron, its shallow waters shimmering more like a mirage than reality. Its drastically high saline levels are almost as unimaginable, allowing only a select few specially-adapted species to survive in its waters. While the lake itself is enough of a natural draw card to the area, the backdrop of East Africa’s most recently erupted volcano, Ol Doinyo L’Engai, makes the area even more attractive. Its dramatic slopes reflect off the mirror-like lake and tower over its waters to a height of 2886m above sea level. With its immediate, and immense, impression it seems hardly surprising that the conical landmass is known by the local Maasai as ‘The Mountain of God’. The surrounding area forms the heart of Tanzania’s Maasailand, an area shared by man and some of the most beautiful beasts. Large herds of zebra and wildebeest, which use the region’s many migratory corridors, often dot the open plains below the Maasai’s lonely, scattered manyattas. Although this section of Maasailand is stunning to look at, the remote and often harsh nature of its environment have kept it well off the mainstream tourist route, creating a unique and realistic window into Maasai cultural customs. With our love of the remote and the supernatural, Lake Natron and its surroundings proved to be too much of a lure. So, from the village of Mto wa Mbu near Lake Manyara, we set off in our Land Rover one early morning for the planned five-hour trip to Ngare Sero. To reach this tiny settlement on Natron’s southern shore we’d have to negotiate 130km of gravel track that cuts along the base of the Rift’s escarpment. Over the relentless rattling in our vehicle we hear two young Maasai herdsmen shouting “Maji, maji!” (water, water!) as we come up alongside them on the dust track. When we point towards Ol Doinyo L’Engai in the distance the two Maasai gesture the actions of the eruption process with their hands. The intense volcanic activity here in August 2006 caused large amounts of ash to linger in the atmosphere, leading to a high number of cattle deaths and illness amongst the Maasai. Even when focusing on the landscape immediately around us – gentle valleys and slopes dotted with grass-covered domes, looking like they’d bubbled out from the earth’s surface like blisters on a sunburnt skin – I’m faced with another stark reminder of the area’s violent natural past. We continue slowly, and after an almost full day of driving, the route eventually starts its gradual drop down towards Lake Natron. Ngare Sero, our destination, is made up of a small number of traditional manyattas, as well as a few corrugated iron trading stores. As we descend, the metallic elements of the village glow red in the light of the African sunset. The red and blue woollen shukas (blankets) of the Maasai also add sparks of colour to the dusty tracks around Ngare Sero. With a comfortable tented camp which, in keeping with the rugged feel of the area, has been set up to provide basic, yet stylish accommodation, this diminutive settlement certainly provides an adequate base to explore from. When we roll into Lake Natron Camp, the last rays of sun are still glowing softly off the southern lakeshore, and we quickly decamp to the thatched dining area to take in what’s left of the natural light show before darkness grips us. Being the only visitors in camp, we have the Maasai manager’s undivided attention and he quickly arranges a guide to show us around the area in the morning. A bird orchestra, perched on the acacia tree overhanging our canvas tent, provides the perfect natural alarm clock, waking us at sunrise. After finishing a quick breakfast we meet our guide, who quickly grabs my hand firmly and announces: “My name is Mooly” – his metal and beaded jewellery jingling as he executes the hardy handshake. After leaving our vehicle on a small hill overlooking reddish-black floodplains, we set off on foot to explore the southern part of Lake Natron’s stark shoreline. Without a breath of wind, Natron’s water surface had created an optical illusion, leaving me querying where exactly the horizon was. Walking out across the thick crust of damp soil that surrounds the lake, we see light patches of white and pink formed by the gathering of large flocks of lesser flamingos. Looking more closely, I see their heads swirling energetically from left to right as they drag their bills through the saline water, feeding on algae. “They breed here. It’s a very important place for them,” explains Mooly. Natron is in fact the only known breeding area for lesser flamingos in East Africa, providing them with a vital source of algae. During their breeding season, which takes place between August and October, over two million flamingos seek refuge here. To subscribe or buy back issues, click here  This breeding ground was recently put in jeopardy by an alarming proposal from the Indian company Tata Chemicals who wanted to establish a US$400 million soda ash factory on the lake’s shore. Due to a global outcry from conservation groups, these plans seem to have been thankfully shelved for now by the Tanzanian government. The major concern was that the extraction of 500,000 tonnes of soda ash from the lake each year would alter the water’s chemical balance and destroy the vital algae on which the lesser flamingos feed. The plant itself and the small ‘city’ required to house and feed its workers would also be a mighty scar on this unique place of natural splendour. From the top of a rocky outcrop we observe these graceful birds, and a scattering of other waterfowl, continuing to feed along the water’s edge. The backdrop of Ol Doinyo L’Engai towers over us, its ash-covered peak now catching the morning sun. Without doubt, this must be one of Africa’s most geographically spectacular locations. However, it isn’t long before we are chased from the exposed lakeshore – not by the birds, but rather by the soaring temperature and the harsh glare reflecting off the water. Mind you, the rewards of visiting here are not all found on the lake – a number of low-key activities exist in and around the little settlement of Ngare Sero. A primary activity is trekking up the Mountain of God itself. While the climbing ban put in place after the most recent eruption has been lifted, it is still strongly advisable to hire an experienced guide. It is also a good idea to seek reliable advice on the current trekking routes and safety issues at the time of climbing. With a considerable 1600m elevation gain, the climb is relentlessly steep, and the crumbling volcanic rock and ash underfoot only add to the tough going. Treks usually start from Ngare Sero at midnight, enabling a fit person to climb at a leisurely pace and still reach the summit for the spectacular sunrise. The morning views over Kilimanjaro to the east, the Ngorongoro highlands to the south, and the barren salt flats of Lake Natron to the north certainly make the gruelling ascent worth it. As it’s already too late in the day to contemplate such a climb, we opt for a less demanding trek up the Ngare Sero river gorge – its waterfalls should be the perfect antidote for the mid-morning heat. The walk begins above the village, and it isn’t long before Mooly has us wading knee-deep across the flowing river course. The gorge itself is rather spectacular, cutting through the escarpment wall in a series of jagged curves and culminating in a cascade of crystal clear water. A natural pool makes a calm swimming area, though you can also take the option of a high-pressure shower under the strong flow of the waterfall. In lush contrast to the lake, these waters offer a life source to the village of Ngare Sero. A trip to Lake Natron without some time dedicated to trying to gain an insight into the lives and customs of the Maasai people would be doing yourself and your exploration a great injustice. Life in Ngare Sero offers a rare glimpse of how this East African tribe traditionally lives – a far cry from the more commercial examples of Maasai culture on the well-trodden tourist routes to and from Tanzania’s northern national parks and reserves. Mooly first takes us to his family’s manyatta, proudly showing us the many aspects of their incredibly simple, community-based lifestyle. In the process we are introduced to his immediate and extended family, all energetically working to keep the manyatta running. Our table is lit that night only by the flame of a small hurricane lamp. Another African sky, overloaded with stars, bears down on us, while a scattering of fires, which are Ngare Sero by night, dance in the distance. I know that beyond the rising sparks there is nothing but nature for miles and miles, and I wonder what the future holds for Lake Natron, it’s environs and its people. Will the spread of mass tourism eventually push the industry into this far off place? One can’t help but hope not. One fact remains certain. This is an incredibly rewarding part of Africa: one that is without frills, one that is dusty, rugged and spectacular. To subscribe or buy back issues, click here

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