This was a trip of a lifetime for my partner Stef and me.
We’d talked about doing a wildlife safari in Africa for years, in that vague “one day” way that often never becomes real. This time it did. Time lined up, resources lined up, and the pull of the Serengeti finally tipped the scale from talking to booking flights.
Grey Crowned Crane. Photo credit: Ankur Khurana
This wasn’t meant to be a birding trip.
That distinction matters, especially if you know me. When I travel on my own, trips have a habit of quietly turning into birding exercises, whether I intend that or not. This time, I promised Stef — genuinely — that the focus would stay broad. Mammals, reptiles, landscapes, ecosystems. The full experience. Not me lingering at the edge of a vehicle trying to decide whether something half-hidden was a lark or just wishful thinking.
And that promise held. This was, without question, the wildlife trip of our lives.
Birds were simply part of it.
Ground Rules Were Set
There wasn’t much tension to manage. I wasn’t choosing between birds and everything else. Birds showed up the way light does, or wind — present whether you’re paying attention or not.
We weren’t chasing species. There were no solo dawn outings while Stef slept in. No audible sighs from the passenger seat when the vehicle stopped again. The focus stayed wide: elephants moving across open ground, giraffes somehow managing to look both elegant and slightly ridiculous, lions fully aware that nothing around them was going to challenge their authority.
And still, birds were everywhere. In the background of almost every moment, giving shape to places as we moved through them.
Gull-billed Tern. Photo credit: Ankur Khurana
By the end of the trip, I had documented 206 bird species. That number crept up quietly, without much effort, which probably says more about Tanzania than it does about me.
A Lot of Tanzania, Very Quickly
Our route took us through some of Tanzania’s most remarkable landscapes, each one distinct enough that it felt like starting over every few days.
We began in Arusha, spent a day in Tarangire National Park, then moved on to the Ngorongoro Crater. From there we headed to Serengeti National Park for two days, followed by two days in Lake Manyara National Park, including a night game drive. We ended the trip with two days of hiking on Mount Kilimanjaro.
Written out, that sounds like an itinerary. In practice, it felt more like moving through different ecological worlds stacked right next to each other.
Stef posing next to this iconic sign. Photo credit: Ankur Khurana
Tarangire’s open savannahs and baobabs gave way to the vastness of the Serengeti, where distance works differently and scale takes a moment to sink in. Ngorongoro felt compressed and intense, life packed into a collapsed volcano in a way that almost feels exaggerated. Lake Manyara added water, forest edges, and a completely different set of birds again. And Kilimanjaro, even on short day hikes, brought elevation into the mix, along with thinner air and a very honest assessment of my fitness.
Each place had its own rhythm and each revealed different birds!
Merlin Let Me Down
Before the trip, I had convinced myself that Merlin was going to do a lot of the work. Songs, calls, quick confirmations. That didn’t last long.
Merlin’s coverage in Tanzania is limited, and it became clear early on that it wasn’t going to help much beyond a few common species. So instead of trying to force it, I slowed everything down. Every time a bird appeared, we stopped. I photographed it from whatever angles I could manage and moved on. Identification often happened later.
It wasn’t efficient, but it worked.
By the end of the trip, I’d documented 206 species this way. That number came from persistence more than skill — stopping often and accepting that you don’t always need an answer immediately.
Stopping Anyway
Our guide wasn’t a birder, but once he understood what I was doing, he supported it fully. Every bird got a pause. No rushing, no pressure to move on. That generosity mattered.
For species I couldn’t identify confidently from photos, I recorded calls and sent them to Isaac, a Tanzanian birding guide whose knowledge of local birds is genuinely humbling. He was generous with his time and precise in his responses, helping me put names to sounds I would otherwise have lost.
Birding has a way of crossing boundaries quickly. You don’t need a shared background or even a shared first language. Curiosity does most of the work.
I already know I’ll be back, and when I am, it’ll be for a dedicated birding trip with Isaac. This time barely scratched the surface. If you are visiting Tanzania for the birds, I highly recommend him.
So Many Birds, So Many Stories
There were plenty of birds on this trip. Too many to do justice to all of them here. But a few lodged themselves in my memory and refused to leave.
The Common Ostrich was one of them. I’d never seen one before, and seeing them out on the plains was something else entirely. Their scale is hard to process at first. They tower over almost everything around them. Nearby gazelles, warthogs, even dik-diks looked miniature by comparison. It’s a bird that resets your sense of proportion.
Common Ostrich. Photo credit: Ankur Khurana
The Secretarybird was another standout. Long legs, deliberate movements, hunting on foot in a way that feels almost improbable. Watching one work its way through the grass was mesmerizing!
Secretarybird. Photo credit: Ankur Khurana
Then there were the birds that filled the spaces in between. Shrikes, including Common and Long-tailed Fiscals, perched conspicuously, always seeming aware of the camera. Mousebirds, both Speckled and Blue-naped, moved through vegetation like animated punctuation marks. Weavers were everywhere, their nests hanging in numbers that bordered on the absurd.
The sunbirds were impossible to ignore. Bright, restless, constantly moving — Africa’s answer to hummingbirds, using the same feeding strategy, just with their own style.
Raptors were everywhere too. Steppe and Tawny Eagles, Bateleur, Martial and Crowned Eagles, snake eagles, and multiple vultures, including Hooded and Rüppell’s Griffon. Seeing them regularly, going about their business, made it clear how intact these systems still are.
Kori Bustard. Photo credit: Ankur Khurana
And then there was the Western Barn Owl, spotted on a night game drive. Quiet, pale, almost unreal while it was happening.
Flamingos, both Greater and Lesser, gathered across water bodies in the Serengeti and Ngorongoro Crater, their pinks shifting with the light. I managed one photograph I’m particularly fond of: pink hues, long legs, shallow water, and the stillness.
Lesser Flamingos. Photo credit: Ankur Khurana
And finally, the Cordon-bleus. These tiny, bright blue birds and impossible to miss once you noticed them.
Kilimanjaro Was Humbling
The last two days of the trip were spent hiking on Mount Kilimanjaro. We didn’t have the time or training to attempt the full climb, so we opted for two day hikes instead.
They were still hard. I was out of breath more often than I’d like to admit, even on sections considered gentle. Ten kilometres at elevation has a way of being honest with you.
Climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. Photo credit: Ankur Khurana
The views helped. So did the birds.
Alpine Swifts cut across the sky overhead. White-necked Ravens moved through the landscape with confidence. A handful of seed-eaters rounded things out. Even over a short vertical range, the shift was obvious.
Conservation Without the Lecture
One thing that stood out throughout the trip was how deeply conservation seems embedded in daily life in Tanzania.
There’s a shared understanding that places like the Serengeti, the Ngorongoro Crater, and Lake Manyara aren’t just beautiful — they’re irreplaceable. That showed up in our guides, in how rules were followed, and in conversations with locals who spoke with pride about the biodiversity around them.
We were told that this perspective is rooted, in part, in the values of the many tribes that call Tanzania home, with the Maasai being the most widely recognized.
Yes, the Big Animals Were There
We also saw all the animals people travel halfway around the world for.
Lions, leopards, cheetahs, elephants, giraffes. Some moments stand out more than others. Lions chased off a kill by hyenas. A cheetah feeding on a wildebeest carcass, unbothered by our presence. A leopard abandoning a hunt once hyenas appeared, apparently deciding the effort wouldn’t be worth it.
Lions at Serengeti National Park. Photo credit: Ankur Khurana
One moment, in particular, stays with me. A lioness resting on the ground, nearly invisible. A zebra walked past her without noticing. The next few seconds were sudden and final.
Leaving With More Than Photos
By the end of the trip, I was tired, sore, and carrying far more photographs than I knew what to do with. I was also deeply grateful.
Paying attention changed how I’ll remember this place. Birds slowed me down. They gave structure to landscapes that might otherwise blur together.
I went to Tanzania for wildlife. I came back knowing I’d barely begun to see what was there.
