Outrageous Weekends in Africa by Joe Cawley

“Right love. What do you want to do this weekend? Go down the pub? Take a wet walk in the park? Pop over to Africa for a quick safari?”

After my partner, Joy, had finished choking on her coffee I showed her how neatly-timed night flights meant we could leave after Friday’s Eastenders, take a gander at the big five, and still be back in time for GMTV on Tuesday.

Two flights and 11 hours after the ‘duh-duhs’ had signalled the end for Albert Square, we were dozing on the lawned departure area of Nanyuki airstrip waiting for a Cessna for the last leg across Kenya’s Rift Valley.

Within minutes of lurching off the runway we saw our first wildlife. Dozens of giraffes strolled gracefully less than a thousand feet below. A family of zebras trotted towards a grove of acacia trees, leaving behind a jetstream of flattened red oat grass.

A Samburu warrior was waiting to whisk us off in a land rover as we stepped off the plane. Last night, I was embroiled in the petty domestic squabbles of Dot Cotton, now I’m sitting next to a guy in a red skirt, his whole body festooned with red, green and yellow beads.

Gabriel is the head guide at Sabuk Lodge, our weekend retreat in Kenya. In addition to his bold sense of fashion, I’m impressed with his multi-tasking. He manages to avoid every crater in the dirt track whilst pointing out wildlife hiding behind thorny bushes hundreds of yards away. And there’s plenty.

Laikipia is second only to the Masai Mara in terms of the abundance of wildlife and is the last refuge of the endangered Black Rhino. Roughly the size of Wales, this sparsely populated wilderness of scrubland, wooded ravines and tangled thickets fans out north and west from the foothills of Mount Kenya and is divided into a patchwork of huge private, and community, cattle ranches. Several of these ranches have been turned into Kenya’s snazziest lodges. Sabuk is one of them.

Our accommodation is one of five cottages perched on the edge of a ravine. It’s completely open-fronted - including the toilet - affording unashamed transparency out to the valley below and, contrarily, offering little in the way of modesty if any wildlife with voyeuristic tendencies happens to be looking right back.

Ancient cedar and olivewood furniture bedeck the polished stone floors. Some fixtures and fittings are more fixed than others. Birds of varying plumage sweep and dive, perching on the timber benches that flank our cottage, cocking their heads curiously at the new arrivals.

Below, the Ewaso Nyiro river quietly twists around the base of an escarpment. Like everything in this unforgiving land, a recent drought had reduced its strength and drained its spirit.

Joy immediately spied a herd of Ethiopian scatter cushions and had clear intentions of getting amongst them. But on a trip like this, every minute counts when you’ve only got 48 hours-worth.

Back in the high-vaulted main building, Gabriel appears, ready to lead us into the bush. He’s still dressed in red robes and sandals. The only concession to trekking gear is a rifle slung over his shoulder.

We trudge, head down, in the boiler room heat. Underfoot, opaque lumps of quartz dot the red earth like crazy paving. Every few minutes, Gabriel stops, scans the landscape for danger, and enquires, “Sawa, sawa?” (Okay, fine?), to which we are instructed to reply “Sawa.” After two hours of walking, Joy’s ‘sawas’ are getting less convincing.

“Another 2 hours and we’ll be there,” says Gabriel, sensing her weariness. Her face drops. She’s not a walker at the best of times.

Gabriel flashes an incandescent smile. “Just joking. We’re here.”

We clamber onto a slab of smooth rock rising above the savannah like a giant anvil. The surreal view is tear-inducing. Groups of zebra, kudu, impala, baboons and water buffalo graze in the silent green valley below. A red dust spiral sambas between clusters of euphorbia before vanishing in the soft breeze. In the distance, the pale silhouette of Mount Kenya is crowned with snow, a literal icing on the cake of this perfect canvas.

The following day our Africa Exclusive itinerary involves ‘comfortable camping’. “No such thing,” bemoaned Joy from the horizontal comfort of her four-poster bed in the Lodge. She was to be proven wrong.

We mount our ‘bush Cadillacs’ for the journey to a fly camp by the river. My camel immediately lets out a deep-throated curse at realising it’s been chosen to haul an out of shape travel writer.

The camp has already been set up at a bend in the river, where smooth sand banks and shiny black boulders provide a ‘bush beach’ complete with natural diving platforms. Our arrival displaces a party of baboons who are enjoying the late afternoon in an amorous manner that is best left unscripted.

Under a glory of fiery red, we’re served a three-course meal with wine and spirits, and listen to the croaking of dozens of humongous toads. Eventually, the hypnotic dancing of the campfire flames induces an almighty weariness and we take to our tent with all its luxuries including a five-inch-deep mattress, crisp sheets and fluffy towels.

At 6 a.m. we’re woken by shuffling feet outside. Joy says she’s had the most peaceful sleep, save for the odd camel grunt, baboon yell, hyena laugh, toad croak and insect chirp – none proved as annoying as my snoring though, apparently.

A breakfast table has appeared outside our tent. We take our seats. The moon is still out, adding a silver glow to the patchwork of pink clouds. While we slurp coffee and munch home-made oatmeal biscuits, the Samburu are packing camels and taking down last night’s riverside dining table for two. It’s a reminder that our weekend flirtation with Africa is all but over.

Two nights is not nearly enough time for that ‘oh-my-God-I’m-in-Africa’ feeling to fully sink in, but it certainly provides an outrageous alternative to a weekend of reality TV.

However, if there is ever a time for splashing out on club or first class seats, this is it. Having a flat bed or full recline can make the difference between the weekend being a blazing adventure, or an eye-stinging endurance test where the highlights become the bits where you get to lie down.