Two weeks before departure, we are in the habit of writing our guests a letter. The one for those going to the plains for the first time has drawn the most replies of all. It is copied here.
“About this journey, there are three small things I want to tell you in advance.
First, please set down your list of things to see. The plains are not a zoo; the leopards keep no hours. But we promise you something else: at some moment you will surely be struck by something vast, something you cannot name — perhaps the sound of a hundred thousand wildebeest lowering their heads to graze at once, perhaps only the shadow of a single tree at dusk. It is not on the list; it is better than the list.
Second, please bring an old, dark-coloured garment. The dust gets into everything, and the dust of the plains is a kind of honour, worth receiving in clothes you will not mind spoiling.
Third, for the first two days you may not be able to stop raising your camera. That is all right; everyone does. By the third day you will set it down of your own accord — that is the moment the plains take you in. From then on, what you see will be far more than what fits in the frame.
Everything else — visas, vaccinations, flight changes, every dietary preference at every meal — rests with us, confirmed one item at a time. Your only task is to show up.
See you on the plains.”