Royalty tangos with the wild at Finch’s

Finch Hattons Camp deep in Tsavo West National Park and snuggling at the foot of Chyulu hills brings royalty to the wild, a legacy they endeavour to maintain with five star accommodation and Victorian style meals, writes Ferdinand Mwongela

Whenever aristocracy is mentioned, my mind conjures https://cdn.standardmedia.co.ke/images of women in tight bodices, flowing gowns and gents smoking pipes and flashing plastic smiles around a table in a high ceiling house that would pass for an indoor sports arena.

In the company of a few Kenya Tourist Board personnel, we headed out to Finch Hattons. The little I had heard about the camp had the words aristocracy and royalty thrown in every few sentences.

‘Royalty meets the bush’, would have served as a worthy catch line for this camp.

Welcome to Finch Hattons, set in the expansive park, 65 Kilometres from the nearest road, making the easiest and fastest access to this jewel to be by air to the Finch Hattons airstrip.

Denys Finch Hatton is probably better known from his mention in Karen Blixen’s book, Out of Africa. But in the wilds of Tsavo, his name lives on at the luxurious Finch Hattons tented camp.

He had been linked romantically to Karen Blixen and it will well pass if you said he lived and died living his passion. The Eton educated son of Henry Stormont Finch Hatton, Earl of Winchelsea, came to the then British East Africa in 1910 where as historians are wont to say, he fell in love with the place.

As an adventurous man, he led safaris for wealthy hunters but tragedy struck in 1931. May 14, 1931 was the fateful day. Finch took off from Voi in a Gypsy Moth airplane. A few minutes after take-off, the plane plunged to the ground and burst into flames bringing his life to an abrupt end. To many this was the end of the man but unknown to them, his name and legacy would live on.

Finch Hattons camp is set on the banks of a spring rich in hippos and a few crocodiles. These are perhaps one of the central attractions here. They are clearly visible from the main restaurant deck and some of the tents.

Their black hides glistening with water and wide nostrils often making that sudden gush spraying water into the air, the hippos always seem to be challenging the brave to get closer.

Immediately you get here, the first information given to you is that the camp is not fenced; enough to send you looking over your shoulder and shuddering at the thought of encountering an animal on the footpaths. Amazingly, after a few moments and getting accustomed to this environment, this thought disappears from the mind and before long, you tour the grounds, in the daytime at least.

Torturous trek

At night it is camp policy that you have to be accompanied by one of the hotel staff when walking to or from you tent and with a good reason too. The hippos come out of the water at night to feed and the chances of encountering one of the massive mammals credited with a lot of attacks on humans in the wild is quite high.

When I landed here, after a 50 minutes hop in a Twin Otter aircraft from Nairobi, I was pretty sure there was no way I was walking around. As fate would have it, my tent was at the farthest end of the spring making my walk during the day one long and torturous trek since I wouldn’t want to have been seen requesting for escort in the middle of the day. That would not do, at least not for my ego. A couple of snorts from the hippos holding court in the middle of the spring and I was, almost, ready for the trip back.

On either side of the footbridge were baby crocodiles basking on logs and by the bridge a small sign, ‘Beware, crocodiles crossing’.

Luxury

All this was, however, made up for by my accommodation. Wait, calling it accommodation makes it seem like some residence of doubtful status with crooked letters announcing a ‘boarding and lodging or accommodation available’ in some seedy part of town.

These ones are far from this coined image. The view from my tent was spectacular. Well, I did not have a view of the hippos but it was still worth it. With a deluxe bed and five star amenities, Nairobi was far away from mind.

The camp came into being decades after Finch Hattons’ death, but it was the brainchild of one Peter Frank, according to camp manager Jonathan Mutisya.

Royalty in the bush are not exactly words you would expect to hear used together. Luxury, comfort maybe, but royalty? This was top on my mind until the manager said they expected everyone to be smartly dressed at the dinner table staying off shorts and sandals! This was made very clear.

My curiosity was piqued and by dinnertime, I was seated on the deck waiting to see this concept play out. Only for them it wasn’t just playing out. It is the way of life here. When the ladies started showing up in dinner dresses, I suddenly felt very shabby in my loafers.

Victorian style meals

The dinner was an elaborate seven-course affair. I knew I was in for the long haul. With fresh asparagus with sause Hollandaise, consome Celestine and tree tomato Sorbet lined up before the main dish, choice does not even begin to describe it.

Then came a choice of diodine duck with orange sauce, Parisian potatoes, creamed spinach and sauteed turnips or pan-fried Malindi sole with chives, Parisian potatoes and vegetable.

By this time I knew the chef meant business. Needless to say, no one in our team made it through the entire meal, not by long shot. Lunch is equally elaborate. Victorian indeed.

As if keeping with this theme, even the dÈcor shouts antique. The dining hall boasts of latticed windows and doors, high vaulted ceiling and a stone fireplace. Leather couches; ancient chest of drawers and Mozart complete the picture.

Indeed, 65 Kilometres from the nearest road, and you almost forget you are not seated in a hotel in the heart of Nairobi until the hippos snort in unison to bring you back down to the bush. The Finch Hattons’ tag line is: "Tell them I’ll be in Tsavo" what they don’t tell you is you will be royalty down there.