Lake Chala-The Lost World

So Tuesday our human resources officer said we could pick anywhere to go for our end of year staff retreat. I said Somalia. ‘No’ he said soberly. ‘You would come back very quiet, in a box’. He did say I could pick anywhere, hmf.

Anyway, the next day was a public holiday time and I was champing at the bit to go off to see the crocodile infested Lake Chala on the Kenyan/Tanzanian border. I think my wife was keen for a relaxing sit by a lake...little did she know my evil schemes to have us tracking elephant and teasing crocodiles bwa haa haa

A minivan turned up at our house at 10am and wifey and I rolled in. We were an interesting mix. A Tanzanian driver, the trip organiser (a Kiwi ex volunteer) and her young son, Bibi Stones one of our fellow kiwi volunteers and her daughter (who is outdoors type, travelled and a lot of fun) and two Canadian physiotherapists in the back. Neither of them would massage my sore left quad muscle.

The drive to Lake Chala took about 40 minutes, over some really muddy/puddle dirt roads. Rainy season is here, most definitely. A lot of vegetation and crops taking advantage of the water. As we drove along, we could easily see into the vast plains of Kenya and our cellphones started welcoming us by text to the Kenyan network. I was geekily happy we could see the Kenyan Tsavo National Park in the distance. ‘Tsavo’ means ‘place of slaughter’ in Kikamba and contains the place where two notorious man-eaters killed many rail workers in 1898.

We got our first view of the Lake, quite picturesque sitting in a crater of green.

We stopped for a drink nearby at a tented lodge site-in-progress owned by a Zimbabwean friend of the trip organiser. She and her Kenyan husband are planning to develop the site into a conservation area. There are already lots of birds and small wildlife by the lake. Plus, elephant that have come across from Tsavo National Park and taken up residence. There is a lot of violent poaching in Tsavo National Park; I don’t blame the tembo for seeking a new place to live.

We headed off to track some elephant. We had nice views of grassland rolling away into Kenya as we walked alongside the top of the crater. We must have gotten pretty close to crossing inadvertently into Kenya at some points.

Our guide set a cracking pace, soon our group was spread out heading down and over a chocolate brown stream then up another rise and into ever increasing thorn bushes. I’ve seen my share of anti-browser plant protection systems. But this thorny scrub-dunno if it was a species of Acacia or not-was some of the worst I have ever encountered. Branches covered in barbs were catching everyone’s clothing and skin.

(Franatee is getting seriously sick of the thorns)

Progress slowed. We were all drenched in sweat, it was muggy, dirty, thorny work. Then we heard the bass rumble of a nearby elephant. I’ll never get tired of that noise. We all went quiet. Well most of us did. Thankfully the wind was blowing towards us. We could soon see a herd of dusty red-brown elephant about 500 metres away slowly moving away from us, ears flapping.

(come back, Jumbo)
Our progress was too slow and thorn impeded to make a real chase of the herd, so we let them go and headed back for a bite to eat. But, despite having run out of water, I wanted to keep exploring...
I really wanted to get down the crater to the Lake so leaving my wife (no doubt popping some anti-anxiety pills) I raced off alone to the crater again. I found what looked to be a path down and started gingerly moving downwards. The ‘path’ soon became a scramble down ever steeper, ever narrower causeways with a sheer drop to the left of me and increasing vegetation on the right. It was like something out of Jurassic Park.

(um..where's the path gone?)
I was swarmed by insects, cicadas deafened me, lizards peered at me curiously or got out of my way. I got half way down, close enough to get nice views of the lake and some fisher folk on it when I called it quits. Just didn’t want to risk slipping off a wrong way and wrecking the trip. I climbed back up and got back to the others in disgrace. A croc will have to wait a bit longer for a Manatee sized treat.

I brooded over a (well made) cheeseburger and wished I had Mo courage. But I soon got over it and chilled out enjoying the scenery. We didn’t see any of the troupes of large baboons that apparently turn up and overturn all the paving stones at the camp looking for things to eat.

We headed for home about 4pm. I wished the camp operator well as we departed. The area has such potential...it’s a bit off the main tourist routes, but so close to Moshi in terms of the views and creatures people can see. Be great if it becomes a conservation area.

I’m going to miss all this-thorn scratches, dehydration and all-when I go home to New Zealand. Back to work tomorrow.