Songa Migrational Camp

Location

Songa’s seasonal wanderings are more strategic than romantic. The northern position in Kogatende puts you in prime river-crossing territory without the tourist scrum on the Kenyan side, though you’ll still share the best viewpoints with vehicles from other camps. The granite outcrops here create natural amphitheatres for wildlife drama, with leopards draped photogenically across the rocks and resident lion prides who barely glance at passing vehicles.

The southern sojourn in Maswa Kimali plays by different rules entirely. This is private concession land, where the usual national park restrictions don’t apply – meaning night drives and walking safaris are suddenly on the menu. During calving season, you have exclusive access to one of nature’s most extraordinary synchronised events, though outside those magical weeks from late January through February, the plains can feel rather empty. The camp vanishes completely during the long rains (April to May) and November’s transition period, when the entire operation is being trucked between locations. The hour-long drive from Mwiba Airstrip to reach the southern camp can feel interminable after a long flight, though at least transfers are included.

Rooms

The tents themselves are a refreshing departure from safari beige, taking their colour cues from those spectacular Serengeti sunsets – burnt oranges, deep blues, touches of pattern that feel authentically East African without veering into gift-shop kitsch. Each of the eight canvases houses either a king or twin beds (they’ll configure triples with stretcher beds for children), a writing desk that nobody ever uses, and a veranda with director’s chairs positioned for morning coffee with a side of grazing zebra.

The real surprise is the plumbing – proper flush loos and indoor showers with reliable hot water, not the romantic-but-impractical bucket showers you might expect. Double vanities, 24-hour solar power (with generator backup), and charging stations that actually accommodate multiple devices simultaneously. They’ve even thought to include USB ports alongside the British three-pin sockets. Each tent comes with its own safe, fan for the midday heat, and a radio for summoning another gin and tonic. The Wi-Fi reaches everywhere, though it’s really only good for WhatsApp messages home. Between December 15th and January 5th, a two-bedroom family tent materialises, complete with shared lounge – perfect for those travelling with small people who wake at dawn.

Communal Areas

The split-camp concept means you’re essentially booking into a micro-lodge with a maximum of eight other guests, each side operating as its own universe with separate lounges and dining areas oriented in different directions. It’s an introvert’s dream and a social butterfly’s nightmare – there’s no congregating around the bar swapping tales of the day’s sightings with strangers who might become friends.

The canvas lounges are comfortable enough, stocked with the obligatory wildlife books and a bar that covers the basics – house wines that are perfectly drinkable, local beers, standard spirits. Premium labels will cost you extra, naturally. The real charm is in the flexibility: they’ll set up your table wherever the action is, whether that’s by the campfire, under an acacia tree, or with front-row seats to an elephant parade. During peak season, the smaller side of camp (two tents plus the family suite) can be booked exclusively – ideal for multi-generational gatherings where grandfather’s bird-watching obsession might clash with the teenagers’ desire to sleep until noon.

Activities

The private vehicle and guide arrangement transforms the usual safari routine into something altogether more civilised. Want to spend six hours waiting for a leopard to descend from its tree? Fine. Prefer to skip the dawn wake-up call and head out after a leisurely breakfast? Also fine. The guides, who are generally superb at reading both animal behaviour and guest enthusiasm levels, adapt to your rhythm rather than forcing you into theirs.

From the northern camp, it’s all about those river crossings that grace a thousand documentaries – though the reality involves a lot of waiting and jostling for position with other vehicles. The kopjes offer spectacular leopard viewing, and the resident prides are so habituated they’ll hunt right past your vehicle. Helicopter excursions can be arranged for those with deeper pockets and a head for heights.

The southern location unleashes possibilities banned in the national park proper. Night drives reveal the nocturnal shift – perhaps a pangolin if you’re extraordinarily lucky, more likely hyenas and honey badgers. Visits to Datoga villages offer cultural encounters that feel genuinely interactive rather than performative. The calving season is nature at its most raw – thousands of wobble-legged babies taking their first steps while predators circle opportunistically. It’s magnificent and brutal in equal measure, definitely not for the squeamish. They’ll pack elaborate picnic hampers for full-day adventures, or simple breakfast boxes for those pre-dawn starts – though the coffee never quite tastes right from a thermos.