They, whomsoever "they" may be, say: "There’s no business like show business". It would seem to me that "they" have never been to Nairobi. In the widely unloved capital city of Kenya, commonly known as "Nairobbery", there is definitely a bigger business to be found. It is touting safaris and safari companies to tourists. Some of the touts are, lets put it mildly, "overly keen" (to the point where a bayonet might come in handy). Others are less pushy, but certainly still ever present. Indeed, you are trailed all day by all and sundry who are on the look out for some fresh game, and I’m not talking about the safari.

Some of the efforts at clandestine stalking were woeful to say the least. The very annoyingly pushy tout who wore the iffy suit and the bright red cap (pulled down over his eyes so I wouldn’t recognise him!) was a spectacularly bad salesman and an even worse undercover tail. It’s no real surprise to learn that in the local language, Swahili, the touts are known as "papasi" which means "ticks". I like that. We spent more days than we’d intended in Nairobi, but then it took us more days than we’d planned to find the right safari for us. Eventually we decided to book with a company who were a step up from the bunch being touted and even better than this, they didn’t employ touts. The joy of straight up business is surprising sometimes!

We were picked up early in the morning for the surprisingly lengthy drive from Nairobi out to the famous game reserve, the Masai Mara. When we finally reached our camp, though to term the canvas hotel suite we were in as a campsite would have Baden Powell spinning in his grave. Indeed any boy scout worth his "woggle" would probably scoff at calling our abode a tent. It was more like a deluxe, naturally air conned, eco resort. Complete with a gorgeous, extra comfy bed, a flush toilet and hot shower, mega attentive staff (the ratio was more staff than guests!) and absolutely gorgeous meals prepared by the highly trained chef. This is camping! It must have been how the wealthy and privileged camped in the old days before they nipped out to slaughter a few dozen animals in order to bag a trophy or two for the club. It’s so Gucci that I think even my dear old mum would agree to spend a few nights in the wilderness.

Of course all this is very nice but in truth it’s all about the animals. Despite having the exceptional guiding skills of Daniel, the scout, and the impressive driving skills of Peter, coupled with a fine Land Rover we were unable to spot any game on the first evening. Well, except a large herd of buffalo, and lets be honest they are two tonne cows who live in large groups. Not exactly tricky to spot, especially as they’re as common as frisky stallions at a stud farm. Though it would be unfair not to point out that this was because of a horrendous storm, that brought a huge down pour, large hail stones and a cloud cover so dark it could have heralded the end of the world.

The next day was dry (ish) but the thick, gloopy yuck that in these parts is called mud, but could easily be known as brown syrup, would greatly affect the game drive. Not for us though, well except that we spent a good few minutes here and there hauling stranded vehicles from the quagmire. On one occasion (and you’ll have to excuse my bias, for I really am very pro Land Rover) we watched as one Toyota Land Cruiser (credit due, a good car) span itself into an axle deep trap. It was going absolutely nowhere, even with the help of one more Toyota pushing and another pulling. No joy whatsoever for those trapped inside the vehicle. It was especially entertaining when the drivers of the three vehicles got out to have a confab as this brought about a sudden, and very intense interest from the biggest game of all, lions! Now stranding a vehicle may well be a cunning ploy by the game companies for drawing the lions out from their hiding place, I don’t know, but I know I most definitely wouldn’t do it. Not after having seen the way that the lioness clocked the blokes, instantly identified them as claw likin’ good, crouched down and locked onto them with an amazingly intense flinty stare. It was beautiful.

Sadly rather than let us witness a "kill" the "International Brotherhood of Safari Blokes" (IBSB) decided it would be better to let the Land Rover take on the mud. We attached a winch to the stranded vehicle and after a few tugs freed the trapped holidaymakers. Poo. We were robbed of a really major Kodak moment. Still at least we were able to witness the power of Land Rover, truly, as the old slogan claims: "The Best 4 x 4 x Far!"

The rest of the drive was no less exhilarating, although we got no closer to a blood bath, we did get to watch an amazing show of Africa’s finest beasts. We watched a pride of lions prep for a hunt (we didn’t hear of any tourists being slaughtered on the BBC short wave so we guess the Wildebeest got it again) they really are quite magnificent animals. We saw plenty of big cat food, you know all the grazer like: Wildebeest, Zebra and Gazelles. In fact you’d be really hard pushed not to see quite literally millions of these things as the famous "great migration" was taking place at the time.

In order to satisfy my blood lust, I think perhaps I was Caligula in a previous life, and for the game spotting pleasure of Heide and the other guest, an American woman called Grace, who claims to hail from Delaware, though given the amount of global gallivanting she does I suspect that this is no more than a postal box address, we set off to a rather special place. We headed to that spot, so beloved of nature programmes, where the great herds have to ford a crocodile infested river as part of their migration. Oh yeah! This would be a great time to take some photos, though of course being crocs, we’d have to snappy! Alas it was not to be. The beasties, who appeared to mainly zebra and wildebeest, proved themselves to actually be chickens. They wouldn’t enter the water just because they could actually see the dinosaurs waiting to munch on them. Pah!

Still that wasn’t all for the day. As mentioned we were lucky enough to have an amazing guide who allowed us to actually exit the vehicle so that we could track some giant, and wonderfully dangerous animals on foot. You winner! So it was that we came across Rhinos! I mean Rhinoceroses! Even the name is silly. They’re utterly prehistoric, those horns are massive, and we got close, really, really close. If the fat boy had been interested in looking up from munching on grass he could have impaled me incredibly easily. Now that’s fun.

Heide, while suitably impressed with the Rhinos, wanted to see something a little less dopey and a lot more speedy. She wanted to see cheetahs. Having watched a slew of the Big Cat Diary on the BBC and Discovery Channel in the past she was quite enamoured with these most swift of creatures. Not a team who wanted to let us down Peter and Daniel stalked, tracked, trailed (and conferred with other members of the previously mentioned IBSB) cheetahs until it was dusk but at this point we found a pair. Heide, and I think Grace too, were utter enthralled. I was pretty impressed too; though I doubt they could have taken out any prey the size of a man.

All in all, we had an absolutely amazing experience out on the beautiful African savannah. It really was all we could have wished for on safari. Well except having seen Leo and Pals munch on Toyota drivers obviously!