The traditionally dressed Samburu guide greeted me in Swahili “Jambo (hello), my name is Lewya, think of Halleluiah,” he said with an enormous grin. He met our small plane after a brief 45 minute flight crossing the equator, the landing a smooth one on the short Muridjo airstrip at Ol Malo Conservancy in Kenya.

Dry smoky air, pounding hooves and the constant snorting of wildebeests welcomed us as we loaded our gear into the waiting safari jeep and drove on rough pothole-filled gravel roads (our driver referred to the journey as the “Kenyan massage”) towards our lodge for the next couple of days.