Hello Claire,
Straight from the Masai Mara where, whatever you might think, life is good.
I don’t usually frequent forums, and if I’m posting here today, it’s because I was "alerted" to this thread by some of my loyal safari-loving friends, whom I thank for the info. The feelings you describe about your stay with Melting Pot Safaris, and it’s absolutely your right to express them, are frankly atypical—even isolated—given the usual feedback we’ve received over the 13 years we’ve been in business. We’re more used to emails and messages that are downright glowing, often to excess, so you’ll understand why I was so surprised. I reread your posts twice in a row, imagining we were the victims of some conspiracy hatched by who knows what competitor.
After the most thorough investigation possible (unfortunately, I couldn’t obtain certain details more than a year after your stay ended, but they aren’t the most important), I’m now able to respond personally. I want to make it clear that I’m responding to you specifically—I could share my experience on some of the issues mentioned in this post, which are linked to the Masai Mara and its management, but they have nothing to do with your original comments.
So, you’ll grant me the democratic right to reply, which I hope will be as cordial and honest as possible, without dodging any of the negative points you raised in your three posts on this thread you started.
You’re exaggerating! You’re caricaturing things, presenting them your way—sometimes it’s justified, sometimes biased, incomplete, or inaccurate. The internet users who come across this can form their own opinion... by hearing the other side of the story.
"... such a highly touristy place!"
Yes, Claire, you’re right—the Masai Mara is highly touristy, that’s undeniable. But "touristy" shouldn’t be a dirty word used in the pejorative sense I sense in your writing. We’re all tourists—you, me, the traveling visitors on this forum—unless we were lucky enough to be the adventurers or explorers of the last century. This park is far too crowded, I’ll admit that and regret it every day during high season. The reserve’s managing authorities don’t limit the number of lodges, vehicles, or beds. That’s why, on the side but I’m sure you’ll be interested to know, we’ve decided to limit ourselves to 11 tents and a maximum of 20 safari-goers, even though we have the demand and clients to add 4 or 5 more tents without any issue. The trend is even moving toward upgrading and removing one or two tents.
For info, you booked your special Mara safari for the first half of September 2018, from the 2nd to the 14th precisely, during the park’s peak season (along with August), due to the wildebeest migration and European holidays. That explains it. At other times, like January, March, April, June, and October, the crowds can be divided by 10... and it’s not even the rainy season (though it can rain year-round in the Mara). The Masai Mara is a victim of its own success, just like the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre... or, more relevant here: Ngorongoro Crater, Ndutu in the Tanzanian Serengeti, the Namibian dunes of Sossusvlei, South Africa’s Kruger, Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe, Uganda’s Kibale National Park where I once found myself with 24 visitors instead of the usual 8 in the middle of a chimpanzee family, or Chobe National Park in Botswana where it’s nearly impossible to photograph a herd of elephants crossing the river without boats or other 4x4s in the background.
The world today is like that: fewer and fewer wild places for more and more visitors...
"I counted more than 50 vehicles"
Goodness! If your profile didn’t say you’re from Lyon, I’d have thought you were from the south. Unfortunately, some guides do whatever they want and surround animals, getting too close. The guide who was with you—I’m saying this after investigating, as you’ll remember—remembers that incident well and tried in vain to get the offending guides to leave, which you surely recall. It’s true, not everything is perfect in the Mara—who can deny that? Again, choosing a less crowded time doesn’t solve everything but does limit these kinds of horrors. For my part, I avoid certain areas like the plague when I know this might happen.
"We had booked a vehicle for 4 with two friends"
I’ll point out, though you already know, that your two friends—one of whom is also a mutual friend—never complained about their safari or anything related to our operation. He was even so satisfied with his first stay with us in January 2018 that he decided to return to show the Mara to his daughter... 8 months after his first trip, in the same year. It was actually your safari, and it was he who suggested you join them to make a group of 4. His daughter, who was in your vehicle, can’t wait to come back to the Mara.
"The windows and the vehicle itself aren’t well-adapted for photography"
That’s your opinion, and you’re entitled to it. For info, all our vehicles are Land Cruisers—certainly the best 4x4 for difficult terrain. They’re bought new and converted into safari mode with the best observation and photography conditions in mind (double opening roofs, panoramic and enlarged windows, extended cabins, etc.). If Land Cruisers weren’t "well-adapted," I think we’d have known about it by now. Many wildlife and landscape photography professionals have passed through our operation and bush camp for over 13 years now—I’ve never heard any of them complain about the shooting conditions. On the contrary, they praise them. That said, a window will always be too narrow... even though at MPS, they’re panoramic or, for the smaller front ones, designed to allow two telephoto lenses to pass through!
"we’ll leave for safari 1 hour later today because the driver has to respect his rest hours"
Well, yes, Claire, we’ve established rules and schedules to respect the work of our drivers/guides—because it *is* work. To reach the Mara from Nairobi, it takes an average of 5.5 hours of actual driving. Driving in Kenya can be dangerous, as you must have noticed: the matatus, trucks, speed bumps, potholes, the chaotic track of the last two hours—sometimes three if it’s rained—just before reaching the Mara. These conditions are grueling for our drivers; they deserve and have the right to necessary rest time. Besides, to remind you, we didn’t deceive you—here are the conditions you tacitly accepted when booking one of our safaris (you can check, it’s in your description/quote): "Photo safaris mean you’ll spend many hours in the 4x4. Keep in mind that, while it’s a vacation or leisure for you, it’s work time for our drivers/guides! Driving on rough, chaotic tracks is hard work that can affect your safety. Schedules are regulated. You’ll leave at 6:30 AM at dawn, as per Kenyan park and reserve regulations. The morning safari must return between 12:00 and 12:30 PM at the latest so we can organize meals (between 1:00 and 2:00 PM). The afternoon safari starts between 3:30 and 4:00 PM. You must be back at camp between 6:30 and 7:00 PM at the latest. In any case, drivers must have at least 3.5 hours of rest between the two daily safaris."
You spent 12 full days at our camp. Drivers/guides drive up to 9 hours a day on average! 9 hours every day for 12 days in your case! They all take naps during the hottest hours—otherwise, they wouldn’t last through a long season. I think that one hour you missed so much is negligible compared to the time you spent in the field. It’s certainly not pettiness on MPS’s part or an attempt to shortchange you—it’s about respect for a key player in your safari.
"The atmosphere was rather cold during our trip." "Sylvie, his wife, barely looked at us"
You must remember that my wife was present at your table during the first lunch and even across from you on the second or third day—it’s been a year, she’s not entirely sure. Are you really sure she’s the reason for the cold atmosphere you describe, which I’m hearing about for the very first time in MPS’s 13-year history? Clearly, there was no chemistry between you. You constantly compared the Mara negatively to your South African trips—almost everything seemed negative to you. Let’s just say, without going into details I’d rather not reveal here, that you "cooled" her enthusiasm. Similarly, you shut down your French-speaking driver/guide—known for his 20+ years of professionalism, humor, and French wit—by the second day. The atmosphere isn’t something MPS creates: we provide a structure and motivated, attentive staff—the rest depends on the safari-goers.
"The evening meals are, if I may say so, a big joke"
Again, this is the opposite of the general opinion you yourself mention. You question the quality and quantity of the meals. You’re entitled to your opinion—maybe your palate is more refined than the average safari-goer’s. Still, we’re quite the characters—limiting desserts to 10 when we have 18 guests! I’m not great at math, but if that were the case, we’d have 8 complaints like yours every night. There are always two desserts offered in the evening, plus fruit salad, which is standard at both lunch and dinner.
"If, like us, you’re unlucky enough to end up with a group of 15 people..."
If I understand correctly, every meal would be some kind of competition where the fastest could eat, and the last would only get crumbs. Okay, I’ll let you in on a secret: sometimes we get a huge, ill-mannered glutton who fills their plate to the brim... and doesn’t even finish it. Yes, it happens sometimes, like at any buffet in the world. That said, 15 people at once—we’d never seen that before! We have two solutions: either throw the oaf into the Mara River as crocodile food to teach them some manners... or implement Plan B! You must have noticed we have a steward, Samuel, who also serves and keeps an eye on food quantities. One of our two chefs is always on duty until the end of meals to address any shortages... and if there’s extra, there’s extra. You just have to ask. I’m still relieved you wrote that you ate your fill and didn’t lack anything... Phew! I’ll pass on your compliments to Samuel tonight.
"... I wasn’t told there was no soap"
Claire, when I read your post, I was in South Africa, in the Madikwe Reserve. I was staying at a very nice eco-lodge. So, I checked for soap! Goodness, I searched everywhere—under the bed, under the rug—but no soap in sight! Well, there wasn’t running water either. What’s soap without running water? Should I have screamed my dismay to the world, vilified the management, started a long rant on a specialized forum? Well, do you know what I did? No? I simply went to wash my hands at the outdoor tap. You must have noticed that 8 water points (aluminum containers painted green with a tap) are scattered around our camp—3 or 4 (depending on which side you were staying) are immediately available near your tent, and another at the entrance to the mess tent. They all have liquid soap. Here’s what’s written in the operating and safety regulations—a laminated A2 document you had in your tent, which we ask you to read carefully on arrival: "In each tent, a bottle of mineral water (now a thermos to reduce plastic), which you’ll refill yourself, a thermos or flask of disinfected water for brushing teeth and basic morning hygiene is provided. A water container outside is available upon request. Ask the steward to set it up if you’d like to use it." Claire, sincerely, if you needed soap, you just had to ask the camp steward. To be honest, you’re the first in the 11 years the camp has existed to mention this "soap problem"!
That said, on this specific point, there’s definitely room for improvement. I ordered hand sanitizer bottles today—they’ll be available in all tents as soon as the supply arrives from Nairobi in two or three days. Yes, in fact, you just have to ask.
"for hygiene reasons, underwear isn’t cleaned" "Oh, but for a hefty sum, underwear suddenly becomes "cleanable"..."
This statement is false. Here’s exactly what’s written in the laminated internal regulations you had in your tent—I can send it to you or post it here if needed: "Clothing cleaning: To further improve our welcome quality, we offer the possibility of having your clothes cleaned at our camp. However, before using this (paid) service, keep this in mind: the camp doesn’t have a washing machine—your clothes will be hand-washed. It’s hard work! Water is difficult and expensive to bring to the camp. Also, think about the amount of detergent used... which will inevitably end up in the environment! Use this service sparingly."
To be thorough: The Maasai staff at the camp, all men, find it degrading to wash underwear. I can’t and won’t impose that on them. MPS doesn’t make money from the clothing cleaning service. What you pay goes entirely to a young woman who comes to the camp for that purpose. In the past, we offered this service for free, but some thoughtless guests took advantage by having their entire bag washed just before leaving. Finally, what you call a hefty sum is just a few cents in shillings or a few euros—the rate is much lower than a French laundry service. You should also know that in Southern Africa, lodges and camps generally refuse to clean underwear.
"they sell you a dream with a special photo safari (what changes in the end? A room with a few more electrical outlets?)"
No, Claire, we don’t sell dreams—dreams can’t be sold or bought! We sell photo or observation safaris with logistics, equipment, and services adapted for that. We organize photo workshops led by pro photographers, vehicles converted for the occasion, experienced guides, and extended hours that take advantage of the beautiful warm light early and late in the day. We ensure everything runs smoothly, though nothing is ever perfect—I spend my time solving problems daily. It’s this high standard of quality we strive for every day that makes us successful: we’re fully booked sometimes a year in advance, and for certain periods, almost systematically—give or take a few—5 to 6 months before each season. We sell safaris and nothing else, and if our 450 annual safari-goers associate them with a bit of dreaming, I can only be happy about that!
"guides particularly suited for photography (not obvious, my apologies)"
Again, you’re entitled to your opinion. I don’t claim to have trained our 6 Melting Pot guides—they don’t need me to understand photographers’ expectations, at all levels. In fact, training has come from each of their experiences over time. Remember what I wrote earlier: many wildlife professionals or semi-pros—some among the most renowned—come and return regularly to our operation. Maybe I’m not a great bush camp manager—that’s certain—but wildlife photography is my thing—trust me on that. Or, if you’d like, specify your criteria.
"vehicles that can get close to animals and go off-road..."
This statement is false, even misleading! Where did you read that? Show me where it’s mentioned! Here’s what’s written in the descriptive/quote document you approved when booking—check page 8, and it was also highlighted in red in the laminated document: "Only the vehicle driver can judge whether it’s appropriate to drive off-road. This should remain occasional. Don’t pressure them: they could be expelled from the park, pay a heavy fine, lose their license, and thus their job!"
All our drivers are autonomous and responsible. The one who guided you at the time was even completely freelance. They decide, not the safari-goers, and certainly not me. They’re the only ones in charge. I know off-road driving is a sensitive issue—I’m not dodging it—I’ll come back to it if you and other internet users want to know my precise position, which is also MPS’s. Everyone knows off-road driving is forbidden in the Mara... except that for a few hundred euros, you can buy an off-road permit, and then it’s not forbidden. But driving off-road never means destroying vegetation. You, who are a fan of South Africa and Botswana, I hope you’re just as outraged as I am when 4x4 vehicles in private or regional reserves crush dozens of "mopane" trees in dense bush to reach a leopard. At least that’s not the case in the Mara. I’m not saying it’s worse. I’m not saying it’s better. I’m saying nothing is perfect in the safari world. And to close this chapter for now, it’s not off-road driving that will destroy the Mara—believe me, it’s marginal—it’s the countless domestic herds grazing more and more of the reserve, slash-and-burn farming, poaching, drought, pesticides, poisoning of lions, vultures, hyenas, jackals, and others...
"because of course, Melting Pot lures tourists by selling them a dream, while the poor rangers try to get close, all while being on guard since they’re breaking park laws... and they break park laws for the pretty eyes of the Crocetta company"
The way you present "the Crocetta company" pejoratively is particularly condescending, hurtful, and offensive. You’re also misinformed—the family business you describe doesn’t exist! MPS was founded 13 years ago by my Kenyan guide and friend of nearly 20 years, Simon Chebon, and myself. 13 years later, we’re still the only two directors. Our wives have no decision-making roles. My wife helps with secretarial work and warmly welcomes (yes, really!) new safari-goers. She’s independent and involved in education programs in neighboring Maasai schools, built a library in the Mararianta village, and runs a native tree-planting program—over 1,300 to date. Please excuse us for creating a company that employs 46 people, all Kenyan, and supports probably 5 to 6 times more. And, incidentally, the Chebon and Crocetta families.
"Basically, it’s ‘keep the clients happy, but don’t take any risks—otherwise, it’s on you or you deal directly with the clients,’ nice boss"
What you’re writing here is false and defamatory. How did you come to this conclusion? Where or from whom did you get this idea? Ah yes, "other safari-goers from another vehicle who talked to their guide who casually said..." Know that if such behavior came to my ears, the guide would be severely sanctioned, even fired. MPS, whether you like it or not, pays its guides’ fines—whether official tickets (which are rare) or more often the bribes demanded by some rangers. I know, however, that sometimes there can be "arrangements" within a vehicle—this happens when safari-goers take advantage of their guide’s kindness. And if off-road driving bothered you so much, why did you accept it? Maybe, obviously, like all safari-goers who come to the Mara, to get shots in better conditions or that simply wouldn’t exist without it.
"there was no fire at the camp, which for me in Africa is nearly intolerable"
Claire, know that the Masai Mara ecosystem is mostly grassy plains—endless savannas. The rare gallery forests have been "pillaged" of their deadwood for decades—it’s now very scarce. Gone are the days when big lodges sent staff to collect truckloads of wood to burn in a few days. There are almost no insects in the Mara—the widespread use of pesticides on crops bordering the reserve, uncontrolled slash-and-burn farming, and the overuse of this deadwood are to blame. The Maasai now have to buy charcoal made far from their region to cook their food.
Occasionally, we do have a campfire during a goat party or after dinner for digestifs—you just have to ask (without complaining, I assure you it’s really not necessary), but you understand we can’t do it every night. Kenya isn’t Southern Africa—the savanna and the bush aren’t quite the same.
"I found it a shame to have closed vehicles at Melting Pot Safari/Tony Crocetta, because it forces photographers on the ‘wrong’ side during a scene to have little (or no) lateral movement, or to shoot from above... with the wrong angle. Too bad for a photo safari that claims to be a specialist. A fully open 4x4 offers so many more possibilities."
Again, you’re comparing and projecting your Southern African experiences onto the Mara. I completely disagree. In the Mara, it can rain year-round, even in the dry season—sometimes torrential downpours that turn the savanna into a lagoon. A certain friend, Blesl, a forum regular, can confirm this. When that happens, the game drive is over—plasticized tarps with windows don’t allow for anything but waiting out the storm. Besides, our safaris and vehicles are itinerant—we offer Amboseli, Samburu, or the Rift Valley lakes, for example. In Kenya, it’s not allowed to drive outside parks with the kind of vehicles you know from Southern Africa. And if we had chosen the option like Governor’s Camp, which we respect, each safari-goer would have to add 350 € to the total price to pay for Nairobi/Mara/Nairobi plane transfers.
Finally, from experience, I consider our "closed" vehicles much better suited for demanding photography—though, again, nothing is ever perfect, and constraints always exist.
"I think in the end, a French-speaking camp full of photographers with egos bigger than their heads..."
The 15 safari-goers who were with you last year will be happy to hear that—you see, I haven’t finished my investigation (not easy from here), and I’ll call them one by one to get their feelings about their safari, which ran parallel to yours. That said, I must be honest—we sometimes get, though not 15 at once, a few "photographers" with oversized egos, whose melon size is directly proportional to their telephoto lens length. I doubt this is unique to the Masai Mara or our camp—I encounter them in Botswana, Zambia, and Zimbabwe too.
My post is already quite long—I could say more, but I think I’ve been thorough and precise. Sincerely, Claire, I regret your feelings! This is the first time we’ve received such a barrage of criticism.
You’ve shared your opinion—I’ll share mine...
You had the chance to spend 12 days in one of the planet’s most beautiful wildlife reserves—and you missed out on your safari. It’s a shame because the conditions you experienced were exactly the same as what we offer year-round—except maybe for the park’s excessive crowds during your visit, the time of the great migration that attracts visitors from all over the world.
The "failure" of your safari, according to you, if we summarize, is due to:
Too many tourists; too many vehicles; average food quality; insufficient quantity; not enough desserts; not-so-great guides; unsuitable and closed vehicles; windows too narrow; co-safari-goers with oversized egos, ill-mannered and condescending; one extra hour of game drive on the first day; a free clothing cleaning service that also accepts underwear; a crooked and despotic boss with his staff; the boss’s wife more attentive to you and more concerned about your sleep quality; a campfire every night... or soap in your tent!
Look closely—you’ll find plenty more, I have no doubt.
If you look for flaws, you’ll always find them—they’re in every detail. Beware, the devil is sometimes hiding there.
No, Claire, allow me to say—and don’t take offense, it’s just my opinion, which is as valid as yours, and we’re debating cordially—your ruined safari isn’t due to your long, non-exhaustive list. What you missed most was a mindset and a philosophy. For the soap, I could always do something—but for that...
Despite our differences, I assure you of my full sympathy. I’m not a great traveler like you—I doubt we’ll meet again in the Masai Mara, but maybe we’ll cross paths in your favorite Southern African countries, where I also travel. The safari world is smaller than you think.
I sincerely wish you beautiful travels, great photos, and the positive vibes that come with them.
African greetings.
Tony