Lisa Alpine

“Sitten ze down!” The German’s livid face was as red as an equatorial sun setting through the pollution haze of a Third World metropolis.

Flora and I looked at each other. She winked and we wobbled the canoe back and forth with our newly acquired hip-shaking samba dance moves. Again. It was too

Waking early our first full day at Little Governors’ Camp in the Maasai Mara Reserve in Kenya, we were startled to see elephant, hippo, and warthog tracks circling close to the edges of our canvas tent. Was that also a lion’s paw print inches from the tent flap?

The camp was unfenced with