There is a kind of nostalgia that does not fade with time. It lodges itself quietly, deep down, and resurfaces without warning. It catches you off guard, brings a sudden rush of tears, and yet it soothes. That is the longing for Africa. A genuine, almost spiritual homesickness. And I have lived with it for years.
It started long before I ever set foot on the continent. As a teenager I devoured Wilbur Smith novels late into the night, dreaming of river crossings, savannah skies and characters with dust on their boots and courage in their hearts. Long before I could afford to travel, I was already aching for Africa. That pull never left me.
Years later, when I finally reached Kenya, the longing turned into something I could touch: red earth, endless horizons, the unfiltered beauty of wildlife living to its own rhythm.
Tsavo East, established in 1948, is one of Kenya’s largest and oldest national parks, famous for its red-dust elephants and its dramatic, uncrowded landscapes.
From opera houses to the open plains
I remember coming back to Europe after that first safari, still trailing the scent of acacia and the hush of nights around a fire. Back at the Palau de les Arts in Valencia, surrounded by costumes and the daily pursuit of perfection, I felt oddly adrift. The stage that had once thrilled me suddenly seemed artificial. Something in me had shifted out there in the bush. I found I was longing not only for Africa, but for a life that felt real again.
A midnight journey from Malindi to Tsavo
That longing first took shape on a midnight bus ride from Malindi towards the savannah. I was crammed into an ageing school bus packed with people, produce and goats, travelling deep into Kenya’s interior. Through remote villages, baobab groves and thorny tamarind trees, the journey was a visceral introduction to the African way of moving through life.
We drove under stars so vast the sky seemed to press down and magnify every whisper. I saw schoolchildren walking miles in the dark. I felt the continent’s pulse: raw, immediate, alive.
Tsavo East, the red heart of Kenya
My own Africa sickness is bound up with Tsavo East National Park, one of the largest and oldest wildlife sanctuaries in Kenya. Established in 1948, Tsavo East covers more than 13,700 square kilometres, and it is known for its rust-red elephants, dusted in the iron-rich soil until they glow; its wide savannah; and its dramatic volcanic features, above all the Yatta Plateau, one of the longest lava flows in the world.
The wildlife is abundant: lions, leopards, giraffes, zebras and well over 500 species of bird. The Galana River winds through it, lined with doum palms and pools where crocodiles lie still as driftwood. Much of the park is given over to conservation and research, which helps keep its wildness intact for whoever comes after us.
Planning a safari in Tsavo
When to go. The dry season, roughly June to October, gives the best wildlife visibility, as animals gather around the water that is left. The short rains of November and December bring green landscapes and thinner crowds.
How to get there. Fly into Moi International Airport in Mombasa or Jomo Kenyatta International in Nairobi. From either city you can drive, four to six hours depending on where you are headed, or take the SGR train to Voi and connect by road to your lodge.
Where to stay. At the higher end, Satao Camp, Ashnil Aruba Lodge and Voi Safari Lodge. In the middle, Manyatta Camp and Ndololo Camp. On a budget, the Kenya Wildlife Service bandas and the eco-camps near the park gates.
What to pack. Neutral-coloured clothing, avoiding both bright colours and camouflage, which is often frowned upon or restricted. A wide-brimmed hat, sunscreen and sunglasses. Binoculars and a zoom lens if you photograph. Insect repellent and a basic first-aid kit. A fleece for the surprisingly chilly mornings. And do speak to a travel doctor or a travel clinic about malaria prevention well before you go, since Tsavo is a malaria area and the right choice depends on you.
What to expect. Game drives at dawn and dusk, dusty roads and bumpy tracks, dinners under the stars, and wildlife encounters that range from the epic to the quietly intimate.
A journey that changes you
A safari is not really about ticking off the Big Five. It is about rhythm and stillness, about tuning in to the wind through the grass and the call of a far-off hornbill. It is about rediscovering awe. Africa humbles you. It slows you down. It changes how you move and what you notice.
On my last evening in Tsavo I watched the sun drop behind the silhouette of an acacia, and the longing came back stronger and fiercer, the kind of feeling that makes you want to stay forever, or return as soon as you possibly can.
A longing that lingers
My love for Africa has never faded. It sits in my chest like a heartbeat slightly out of time with the rest of the world. It flares when I hear certain drumbeats, when I smell red earth after rain, when I see light fall across dry grass. It is a rare gift, a slow-burning desire that keeps me both grounded and dreaming. Until I can go back.
What comes next: Tanzania
My next safari will take me to Tanzania, a dream I have held for years and am finally about to realise. I have booked it with Foot Slopes Tours and Safaris, a locally owned company based in Arusha, because travelling with an operator rooted in the place, rather than a distant booking platform, matters to me and channels more of what I spend into the community I am visiting. They run everything from the Great Migration in the Serengeti to walking and photographic safaris and the climbs up Kilimanjaro and Meru. I will write about how it actually goes once I am back, honestly, as always.
Frequently asked questions
The dry season, from June to October, is the classic safari window, when sparse water draws animals together and the thinner vegetation makes them easier to spot. The short rains in November and December turn the park green and bring fewer visitors, at the cost of slightly harder game viewing. Both have their rewards.
Fly into Mombasa (Moi International) or Nairobi (Jomo Kenyatta International). From either, you can drive four to six hours to the park, or take the SGR train to Voi and continue by road to your lodge. Many people combine Tsavo with Kenya’s coast, coming inland from Malindi or Mombasa.
Tsavo is a malaria area, so antimalarial medication is generally recommended, but the right one depends on your health and history. Speak to a travel doctor or a travel clinic well before you leave. Alongside tablets, cover up at dawn and dusk and use repellent.
Yes. It is vast, wild and far less crowded than the Masai Mara, and its red-dust elephants and dramatic landscapes make it memorable. It also pairs naturally with the Kenyan coast, which makes it an easy addition to a beach trip around Malindi and Watamu.
Further reading
If you are combining a safari with the coast, my guide to Malindi and Watamu covers Kenya beyond the beach, from the Gede ruins to the Marafa canyon. And if it is the safari itself that draws you, my day in Yala National Park in Sri Lanka is a very different, and equally memorable, way to watch wildlife in the wild.
