Every photograph has a backstory – do we want to show the story behind every image?
When I left for Kenya, I went with an open mind and didn’t think much about it. It was the end of January, during the so-called off-season, meaning it wasn’t the peak tourist time for safaris.
Now, towards the end of summer 2023, I saw a video on Instagram that was filmed during the great animal migration. The video showed dozens, likely over a hundred cars lined up along the riverbank, while the animals darted between them.
After my trip, I’ve been scrolling through Instagram, trying to find behind-the-scenes photos, particularly from the Masai Mara, showing the photo shoots and the presence of tourism among the animals. However, there are very few of them. I’ve only managed to find a few, and I’ll include a couple of photos by James Chamilton below.
Näytä tämä julkaisu Instagramissa
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Näytä tämä julkaisu Instagramissa
In James’ second photo, a group of cheetahs, five males, has ended up in the midst of safari vehicles. In the other, during the great animal migration, the beautiful backdrop is obscured by safari vehicles – a stunning photo that tells the story of that day.
However, there are countless photos from safaris, each more beautiful than the last, as well as the typical ones we also tried to take during our trip. On our journey, we didn’t encounter any spectacular lighting or extraordinary situations. We had to settle for a typical tourist safari, though we weren’t on a dedicated photography trip, but rather on a journey to explore different parts of Kenya.
Six Situations
In Masai Mara, we had the opportunity to photograph six different big cat encounters, of which I will go into detail about three in this blog. The ones I won’t be covering are:
- A male lion in the morning, walking from the bushes onto the road and then into the bushes on the other side. The photo opportunity lasted about 15 seconds. In this situation, we were the only vehicle, and I spotted the lion myself.
- Lionesses in the distance on a ridge in tall grass. They had hunted a warthog, and one of the lions briefly carried its head in view. There were probably four lions, but it was hard to say, as only one was really visible for a short moment. Three other vehicles were present besides ours. Mikko might have spotted these.
- Lion cubs in the bushes. I spotted giraffes in a wide open area and asked the driver to take a detour to them. At the same time, two other vehicles were parked near the bushes beside the giraffes. Our driver casually mentioned they were photographing giraffes. I reasoned to myself that there was no giraffe in a bush that’s only about 3 meters tall, but I didn’t comment on it. Instead, I asked him to drive closer to see what was inside. Through a small gap, I spotted a couple of young lion cubs, and I think there was an adult lion there too. A couple of quick shots, and we left – more vehicles started arriving. The giraffes were left behind…
On the second evening safari, it rained, just like it did on all of our evening safaris. Earlier, in the first part of the Kenya series, I mentioned that our trip to Hell’s Gate was canceled because of rain. So, the weather wasn’t on our side here either.
The first situation I’ll discuss involves two male lions. To provide some context, our guide never gave us any prior information about where there might be predators, lions, cheetahs, or leopards. However, I believe some of this information was passed to him, as he was constantly on the radio and phone. At times, it felt like the man was managing a switchboard or handling sales while also guiding us.
In South Africa, the tip-off system worked well, and we were able to get into many great situations. There, the rule was that only three vehicles could be present at any given time, and it was respected. The animals and nature were always treated with respect.
The Lion Sleeps Tonight
It was raining, we had the roof closed, and we were on a transition drive. Suddenly, we veered off onto a meadow and started following another vehicle through the muddy terrain. The Land Cruiser’s engine roared, and a small sense of uncertainty filled the cabin—where exactly were we heading? Due to the weather, we couldn’t really scout ahead.
After a moment, we saw several cars ahead of us and lined up. Inside a half-circle were two male lions, and safari vehicles were parked, capturing photos of them.
I took the first shots with the telephoto lens, but as I was switching cameras, I heard Petteri’s voice from the back saying, ”Use the wide-angle lens.” The shooting had to be done quickly because almost immediately, our guide announced, ”WE MUST GO NOW, RANGERS ARE COMING.” At the same time, all the other vehicles started to hastily flee in different directions. Some got stuck in the mud, and the weaker ones were left behind. Only the luckiest and best drivers managed to escape.
This was our first encounter with the majestic big cats of Masai Mara. The situation was discussed at the dinner table, but not as a positive experience.
The next day, I had a conversation with the guide, asking him to inform us if he hears any tips, so we could decide together whether we wanted to go to those situations or focus on what we were currently photographing, taking into account the available driving time and the upcoming light. For example, on the evening safaris, we had to optimize driving time; we couldn’t go far because we had to be back by 6:30 PM. The last light was usually captured close to the gate.
The Next Morning
On the second morning (Masai Mara safari drive 4/5), we set off in a new direction, somewhere we hadn’t been yet. On the way, we spotted a hyena by the side of the road, but the guide drove right past it. I’m not sure if he didn’t see it or if he already had the next destination in mind, which he didn’t mention. We suspected there was something ahead because a few cars passed us very quickly. On the other hand, the guide had almost driven over a tortoise on the road the previous day, which two other vehicles were photographing…
Cheetah Chaos!
We came over a ridge along the road. This time, we were sure we were on the right path. Ahead of us was a cluster of vehicles, with more coming from both directions. We joined the line, but we could hardly see anything except the animals by raising the camera through the sunroof and photographing from a very high angle on the screen. At this point, the word about what was ahead probably spread through our vehicle.
I suggested to the guide that he drive on the other lane, essentially bypassing the traffic, so we could get some pictures, as we couldn’t see anything from where we were. He explained that it would block the road, but once three cars passed us, he decided to follow them. We were late in making the decision and ended up in an even worse spot. The same tactic was being used from the other direction. Of course, this can only lead to chaos.
Imagine a zero-point scenario where the cheetahs are right next to the road. The road is two lanes, and from both directions, two cars approach side by side—resulting in a traffic jam. Luckily, the safari vehicles were off-road capable, so we managed to form a partial third row alongside. There was probably some arguing, but we couldn’t understand the language.
The cars that noticed the traffic jam didn’t drive into it; instead, they veered off onto the grass and started navigating through the grassy areas to get to the situation. Some got stuck again, but, as before, we didn’t help them. Their goal was to go around the grass and try to squeeze into the zero-point area from the side.
Around 35-40 minutes into the chaos, ”a traffic coordinator” with a driver’s license emerged from a vehicle and began to clear the congestion. Meanwhile, we mostly focused on laughing at the situation with the other tourists, hopping from one vehicle to another. About 45 minutes later, we finally got moving and slowly made our way out of the mess. In the end, all we got were a couple of photos of the cheetah—my very first—and a story that I will certainly never forget.
When we returned along the same route a couple of hours later for lunch, the cheetahs had hidden in the bushes, and about five cars were lurking around the bush in the middle of a muddy meadow. The vehicles that had gotten stuck in the mud had been freed. In this or the next situation, the guide mentioned that one car was still stuck from the previous day’s ”Lion Sleeps Tonight rally” aftermath.
Ridge Views
Almost immediately after the cheetah spot, on our way back, we began driving along a ridge with a dry track. There were no animals there, but the landscape was beautifully open and expansive. The scenic route was nice, but it turned out it wasn’t just a scenic route. The guide had a leopard tip up his sleeve—one that wasn’t shared with us as a heads-up this time either.
Early in the morning, I took a photo of the moving cars behind a bush. This was exactly the type of documentary shot I decided to capture when I set out on this journey. I made the choice to document the situations as I experienced them, telling the story from my perspective. Now, I’m sharing those experiences with you.
The dry track quickly turned into a watery meadow, and muddy trails were everywhere. I started recording video and began documenting the entire scene again. The landscape looked terrible. At some point, I think someone asked the guide where he was driving, but he said we had to keep moving to avoid getting stuck.
”no shit”
There was no doubt we could get stuck there. Apparently, the mud rally had continued for three hours, and there was no sign of it ending.
Once again, the situation was quick; we were at the spot for only a few minutes. What kind of photography is this?
Additionally, the photo opportunity of a leopard in a tree under the midday sun was absolutely terrible. All that remained was a documentary story, another tale of absurdity, and wondering how long it would take for the landscape to recover. Will the next tourists photograph the meadow with tire tracks? I can answer that—yes, they will, because we saw several other flat meadows that looked like the aftermath of off-road competitions.
After the trip, I asked a few acquaintances if they recognized this kind of Masai Mara experience, but the answer was no from two of them. One response suggested that this kind of situation is normal, and the moments when you can be left alone with the animals are the exceptions.
I’ve been thinking about what in these 2.5 days led us to end up in three situations where the story unfolded like this. Was it because of the January off-season, with fewer animals and a smaller area to cover, or was there something else at play?
If I ever travel to Kenya or Masai Mara again in the future, it will be a time for some deep self-reflection, as well as trying to better understand the photographic conditions.
…
But now, almost a year later, as I translate this writing into English in november 2024, my thoughts are that I won’t be returning to Masai Mara.
Apologies for any mistakes in the translation.
