They trot, jog, canter and gallop. Endless charcoal divisions of bewildebeests: desperately frustrated ruminants not knowing when to move North away from jobsworth officialdom. Like drunks who won’t leave a party, they stott and stampede without provocation, having imbibed and eaten every ounce of high and low cuisine the stifled Serengeti can offer them.
Soon they will break free of this bureaucratic straight-jacket and head to their well-appointed Kenyan homes. A few will struggle at border control on the Mara river as they stumble through the turbulent depths with all the acceleration of a 2011 BMW (allegedly). Finally they head into the fertile and largely familiar turf of the Mara Conservancies. Here they can be observed before sunrise and after sunset without penalty and from off road too.
Pretty soon they will be returning, leaving the old and fabled plains of the Serengeti – out with the old and in with the gnu.
