Coffee and Champagne

Small-town suburbia, south of Chicago, Illinois, was a heavenly childhood. Maple, elm, and enormous oak trees lined the streets, where we swarmed in summer and winter, playing in groups with no worries except tornadoes. Always wondering what it was like elsewhere, I yearned to travel, with two desires: Paris, but the lions and elephants of Africa called to me.

In my late twenties, the wondrous emerald U.S. state of Washington greeted me with a showcase of vast evergreen forests, sparkling lakes, and a jaw-dropping view of glacier-topped Mount Rainier.

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Years of saving to visit the Serengeti culminated in July 2011. Yellow fever, hepatitis, typhoid, meningitis, tetanus, diphtheria –many immunizations, and a warning to use bottled water to brush teeth. The thirty-three-pound luggage allotment proved challenging; we weighed, removed clothes, and repacked repeatedly. After seventeen hours of flying, not including the layover time, we arrived at Arusha, Tanzania, after eleven p.m.

The following morning, our ninety-minute drive to the Arusha Coffee Lodge was congested with motorized cars and scooters on the dirt roads. Alongside were burro-pulled carts and men pushing heavy carts piled high with bricks. Untended livestock wandered along the road's shoulders. Coca-Cola and beer signs gleamed from buildings behind vegetable and fruit street stands. The local farmers had specialized stalls for tomatoes, oranges, bananas, and melons. Women wearing vibrant-colored dresses and headbands caught my eye. Little children dashed by playing, while five-year-olds herded goats. I'm in Africa!

We arrived at the serene Arusha Coffee Lodge, and porters were sent to show us to our cottage. When we mentioned the bags rolled, the women smiled broadly, placed them on their heads, and motioned for us to follow, offering a coffee cherry to taste.

I was enchanted by our cottage, set among the coffee bushes. A lime green velveteen sofa placed under a crystal chandelier, just a step down from the bed and surrounded by white mosquito netting, offered a new experience. We will sleep with white netting protecting us. When we went to the dining room, they dropped the netting and sprayed for mosquitoes. Afterward, it was chilly, so the room attendant lit the fireplace near the sofa. I was in Africa, which was my childhood dream. My facial muscles hurt from my joyful smile. Magic surrounded me.

At a rest stop along the winding umber-dirt roads, tiny jewels flitted around our heads, their feathers vibrant in shades of green, ochre, and turquoise. We passed enormous Baobab trees sprouting frilly tops and the unusual Sausage trees with their appendages swaying gently in the breeze. A five-foot-tall bird on stilted legs popped upright, startling us. It sported gray feathers, a white chest, a scarlet bald head, a pink neck, and a gullet that made it appear homely. It was so tall! Our driver, Shuma, chuckled, explaining that the Marabou storks were the savannah's garbage collectors, eating carrion. Five-inch Bee-eaters flitted like jewels once again, and the Tawny eagle flew overhead. For a boxed lunch, our stop was near a crowded hippo pond. The enormous mammals grunted, jostled, and jockeyed for spots. At the same time, mothers protected their babies from the massive bulls. Bubbles floated atop the muddy pond from their gaseous emissions. We chuckled at the sight. My lifelong dream came true. I was in Africa!

Our vehicle got a flat tire on the way to a Serengeti hot air balloon ride in pitch-black darkness. Edmund, our driver, received no responses to his radio calls. No one could leave the vehicle to assist while he changed the tire. Our flashlights provided light, revealing many animal eyes shining- those of large, powerful hyenas circling the vehicle. Later, I asked if he feared the hyenas, and he replied, "I was watching for lions. Where the hyenas go, the lions follow."

Enormous baskets lay on their sides, each with twelve compartments, the maximum number of passengers per balloon. We slid into a compartment like one does in a sleeping bag. The pilot turned on the gas burner, slowly lifting the baskets upright. I gasped, and my heart soared as I saw another balloon in the distance, the sun's golden orb rising behind it and then turning orange. At the same time, the sky transformed into azure blue. Sunrise over the Serengeti – I was now in the place I had seen on nature shows as a child and still watch in adulthood. I was in love with Africa!

Below us, herds of gazelles ran and jumped for joy. Wildebeest were beginning their migration in mile-long lines. Elephants did not like the roaring sound of the hot air balloon gas, so they ran under trees. I vowed never to upset the gentle giants again. Female lions rested in the grass near a watering hole, full from the night's hunt.

As we descended and crossed low over the river, I feared we would land in it. A Nile crocodile might eat us.

Tables with white cloths awaited us for our Serengeti champagne breakfast. We raised glasses in a toast while monkeys and baboons observed the festivities. A little distance from the tables was an outdoor toilet surrounded by curtains, marked with a sign that read "Loo with a View."

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The balloon ride was unforgettable. The mama elephant blocked our jeep to protect her baby, and we witnessed the amazing tree-climbing lions—fourteen lions in one tree. The leopard that posed for photos on our last trip was astounding.

Is there one thing about Africa that changed me? No, it was everything: the welcoming people, astounding vistas, sunrises and sunsets, purple jacaranda trees, vibrant clothing and gleaming smiles, the wildness, my beloved wildlife in its habitat, even the dust covering my hair and clothes.

2011 was the first trip, and Africa became glued to my being. I returned three more times and will…again. I'm waiting for the house my husband dreamed he built for us in Africa.

Copyright © 4/16/2025 by Andrea O. Corwin

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