&Beyond Bataleur
Camp
the region’s only canopy walk,
where stunning red turaco birds
look like ruby raindrops on 200-yearold trees.
Back at camp, the ever-green Willie
Roberts sports a sarong and seasons
balmy suppers under the stars with
narrations of how he vanished into
the wilderness, stayed in forests,
caught and sold strange birds and
snakes to earn money and refused
to go to school – all this to ensure
the family tree wasn’t uprooted and
re-rooted back in England, following
his father’s premature demise. The
drama is rather Huckleberry Finnlike. I’ll let Willie elaborate, he
tells tales better than I.
&Beyond Bataleur Camp
Deliberately vintage in look, the
camp seems it’s been around as long
as the plains of the Masai Mara that
stretch eternally before dining
decks. Breakfasts, when not in the
bush, are presented on these
112
terraces, and include muesli made
with honey from a local community
of beekeeping women the camp
supports. Breakfast is bounteous,
lunch and supper always four
courses. They can be elegantly
western. But discover Masai
specialities like spinach or bean
stew, usually accompanying goat,
the Masai staple (although the chef
can prepare vegetarians versions).
The real Masai speciality at this
am i th taff ana r i
Stanley aren’t “imported” expats
or “mzungus” (white Kenyans), and
the service is a treat.
A wilderness way leads to tents
fringed on the endless plains. Sultry
dark-wood tents have wispy fourposters decked with sheets that
caress like the silken service. I prefer
the intimacy of darker tents to
the lighter ones, and get labelled
“romantic.” Thus, following hilltop
sundowners including canapés and
the crispest home-roasted nuts, I’m
Richard’s Camp