Dr Jas describes the harrowing experience riding in a vintage looking 20-seater Cessna plane from Nairobi to Masai Mara, a tongue-in-cheek account. An exclusive for Different Truths.

The recent family vacation to Masai Mara game reserve in Kenya was my first trip to Africa and it won’t be my last despite some hair-raising and palpitation inducing experiences. While the Kenya Airways flight from Mumbai to Nairobi was the routine sterile travel in a big jet (while packed like sardines in a can), the ride in a vintage looking 20-seater Cessna plane from Nairobi to Masai Mara was the one to remember. There was no cockpit or cabin crew and one could lay claim on any vacant seat (I beat a passenger to the last available window seat). There was only one pilot at the controls, enjoying a cup of coffee after the take-off. Being a cosmetic surgeon, I judged from his wrinkles that he was on the wrong side of fifty.

There was no cockpit or cabin crew and one could lay claim on any vacant seat (I beat a passenger to the last available window seat). There was only one pilot at the controls, enjoying a cup of coffee after the take-off.

An unnecessary but pesky thought trespassed on my mind. ‘If this guy has some serious health issue at this moment, there is no one else to take charge. And a plane can’t be flown by instinct, basic intelligence or bravado. So, none of the passengers is likely to feature later on in a Readers Digest story as a rescue hero.’

But moments later, there was a sobering thought. ‘In the event of an air crash, the air ticket will be extended to heaven – one wouldn’t have to listen to the monitors in a hospital ICU.

But moments later, there was a sobering thought. ‘In the event of an air crash, the

air ticket will be extended to heaven – one wouldn’t have to listen to the monitors in a hospital ICU. So, just relax and enjoy a bird’s eye view of the ground below.’

The resort was amazing, with luxury tents. But it had no boundary wall, so as to provide the guests with an authentic wildlife experience – a bit too authentic for comfort. The property was fringed by river Mara, host to ever hungry crocodiles and short-tempered hippos, on one side. On the other side were the Masai Mara grasslands teeming with purely non-veg big cats. Luckily there were enough herbivores for them to lay their claws on.

At night, there were sounds of animals devouring the grass outside the tent. I wondered what I would do if they decided to tear the tent and investigate the guests. Screaming was unmanly and trying to fight them with my walking stick was foolhardy.

At night, there were sounds of animals devouring the grass outside the tent. I wondered what I would do if they decided to tear the tent and investigate the guests. Screaming was unmanly and trying to fight them with my walking stick was foolhardy. The only defense I could think of was to spray my Chanel perfume towards them so as to intoxicate their senses. Then, I could put on Bhangra music to make them dance, click a video and become an international superstar on social media. But, the hippos, the elephants and the wart hogs chose not to waste their time in useless altercations.

The safari guide was a jolly fellow with a queer sense of humour. Once he parked the open Land Rover so close to a lion that the Babbar Sher could have shaken his paw with me. Later, I asked him if any tourist had been attacked by lions or other predators in the recent past. He gave a wry smile and then spoke, ‘Such an incident has never happened here but there is always a first time for everything!’

I asked him if any tourist had been attacked by lions or other predators in the recent past. He gave a wry smile and then spoke, ‘Such an incident has never happened here but there is always a first time for everything!’

Then, he looked backed to enjoy the petrified look on our faces!

Nothing like a judicious dose of fear and danger to spice up a vacation!

Photo from the Internet