One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas, I don't know.
"Animal Crackers" (1930)
ARUSHA, Tanzania -- The elephant wasn't in my pajamas, but I did shoot him . We were relaxing in our tent on a Serengeti campground when all 6 tons of him strolled into view, maybe 30 yards away. He looked around slowly, lifted his trunk , and wandered away in search of better company. But not before I had taken my best shot at a Kodak moment.
I doubt he had much trouble finding his fellows. We certainly didn't. On a two-week safari, our group of 14 travelers and three guides saw as many as 14 elephants clustered together, giraffes by the score, lions, leopards, baboons, zebras, dik-diks, impalas, warthogs, zebras parrots, ostriches, hundreds of flamingos at a time, vultures, storks, mongooses, gazelles, ibis, crocodiles, cheetahs, buffalo, a seemingly endless line of wildebeests, hyenas, jackals, crested cranes, hartebeests, vervet monkeys, monitor lizards, hippos, and so many more creatures great and small.
And, with just one exception, we saw them up close .
This was Africa and this was adventure most civilized , in which even our tents had a touch of luxury. It was also an introduction to the people of East Africa and to the joys of small-group travel. The journey, with Cambridge-based Overseas Adventure Travel , was billed as a Serengeti safari, but it was a lot more. While six nights were spent in tented safari camps (four of them on the Serengeti), five other nights were in lodges and hotels, giving us a chance to see other places and feel some of the tempo of Tanzania. And we would do so in comfortable May temperatures, 70s and low 80s.
Arriving at Kilimanjaro International Airport, my wife and I met our fellow travelers and the three men who would be our guides, advisers, spotters, and confidants for the next several days, Paul Nyalusi, Joseph Athuman, and the comedian of the group, Idrissah ("Call me Idi") Mshana, whose gleeful laugh still echoes in my memory. All were college-educated, multilingual, and, as we would learn, excellent drivers of specially modified, $65,000
We safarigoers were from all over the United States, with ages that ranged from early 40s to early 70s, couples, solo travelers, two sisters, and a mother, father, and son.
Overseas Adventure Travel says it seeks unusual travel experiences in out-of-the-way places . This was evident almost immediately with the sight of people walking in great numbers, occasionally riding in a dala dala , or small bus.
Wherever we met people -- at a local restaurant, or in a marketplace where we were the only foreigners, there seemed to be more similarities where it counts: in the human condition . One of many stops was to meet members of a women's cooperative who invited our female travelers to join in a lively dance, with the rhythm of African music and singing getting under our skins and entering our souls. Another stop would be at a grammar school, where we were charmed by the children. We would also meet Africa's best-known tribe, the nomadic Masai, with their red-checked robes and ceremonial spears. One Masai sported an added fillip: a Boston Red Sox cap.
Our first meal on African soil, at a lodge called Mama Wilson's , would be . . . spaghetti! Usually, though, meals combined Western and African dishes. There might be peanut butter soup, cornflower soup, barbecued pork chops (which Idi joked were warthog chops), chicken curry, lamb, corn-based porridge, and lots of fresh vegetables.
At Mama Wilson's, our alarm clock turned out to be the jovial Wilson herself, knocking on our doors. At Tarangire National Park was the Safari Lodge, with great views overlooking the Tarangire River and solar-heated showers and electricity in the thatched-roof "tents." Then came Ngorongoro Farm House , a 500-acre working farm along the slopes of Ngorongoro Crater ; though this may have been the prettiest place we stayed , with gardens and colonial decor, it had its drawbacks . Hot water was sporadic, the phone in our room didn't work, and the bathrooms did not afford total privacy.
But it was animals, not inns, that we came for and began to see long before we reached the Serengeti. Throughout the trip, we would switch combinations of passengers and drivers in the Land Cruisers, which had removable roofs for better picture-taking.
Much has been written about the great Serengeti, and none seemed an exaggeration. The national park encompasses 5,700 square miles of plains, with thousands of acacia trees, sausage trees, and vegetation . We would take many game drives of a few hours each during our stay . Lions slept next to our vehicles. A leopard sauntered by our jeep, sneered at us, then scampered up a tree .
Our guides were admirable spotters, seeing creatures where we saw nothing but trees, rocks, and grass. In constant communication by radio, and speaking Swahili, they would start to smile, then suddenly and wordlessly speed up the Land Cruisers. Soon there would be a leopard, a cheetah, or perhaps a lion standing magnificently atop a kopje , or group of rocks. Finally spotting a rhino, albeit far away, gave us bragging rights to seeing the traditional Big Five: rhinoceros, leopard, Cape buffalo, elephant, and lion. Even more impressive -- awesome actually -- was the procession of wildebeests, part of the 1.5 million animals who migrate from the plains to the woods each year.
Our tents were more luxurious than some economy rooms I have stayed in in the United States, and the service was certainly better. Items of clothing left outside at night would come back freshly washed the next day. There was limited electricity, private bathrooms, and even hot showers. Each evening after dining at a long table under a tent, we would mellow out around a fire with the guides and discuss the day's events and the next day's activities.
There were other rewarding stops, chief among them Olduvai Gorge, referred to as the "cradle of mankind" for the discovery of remains of our earliest human ancestors.
Driving to the airport, I found myself thinking that my only regret was that clouds had prevented us from seeing fabled Mount Kilimanjaro. But just before we arrived, the cloud cover lifted momentarily and there they were: the snows of Kilimanjaro. It was a perfect ending to one of the great trips of my life.
Richard P. Carpenter can be reached at carpenter@globe.com. 
