We both got vertigo, looking out over a plain that ran as far as the eye could see.
We went to Kenya in 2010 for our first annular eclipse — to see the Ring of Fire, where the moon doesn’t quite cover the sun and leaves a bright circle around the dark disc. I have a good friend, Peta, who was living in Nairobi then, so we took the chance to visit her and her husband, and bundled in our first African safari, the Masai Mara, along the way.
We gave Peta the eclipse date and she recommended her friends, the Windhagers, who had built a house atop the Laikipia Plateau. We flew into Nanyuki and were picked up in a big four-wheel drive that climbed a rocky, bumpy, dusty path all the way to their front gate. Inside the gate: a beautiful garden, luscious and full of colourful flowers, like a bungalow back home in Singapore. Then they led us through the house to the patio — and we both got vertigo, looking out over a plain that ran as far as the eye could see. Our eyes couldn’t process the expanse. A perfect spot for the ring of fire.
The Windhagers were wonderful hosts. They had carried the timber and stone for that house up that dangerous path, and Gisela cooked every breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner with such care. You felt like you were on top of the world, with all of God’s creations wandering through the bush — elephants, gazelles, monkeys, giraffes, and once, a leopard with his spots lurking in the bushes.
And one scene I will never forget: looking out of the window of a little propeller plane as it came down to land on a grassy runway, with wild animals grazing along the sides, unimpressed by the noisy bird. Some deer actually ran alongside the landing strip. So unreal.