09/10/2025
When we woke up that morning, the air still carried the cool calm of the highlands. The day before had ended beautifully dinner shared with our driver-guide, a man whose knowledge of the wild could fill libraries. He spoke with passion about lions, stars, and stories older than time itself. Over the meal, we planned our next adventure a full-day safari, packed lunches ready, spirits higher than the hills around us.
Dinner that night was a mood on its own. The table glowed under soft amber light, laughter drifting like smoke between courses. My wife, glowing and relaxed, had her Versatile Rosé perfectly chilled, her giggles the music of the night. I went with my usual, a glass of already chilled Chardonnay to start, then a double shot of Glenfiddich to close the chapter right.
By the time the Maasai dancers arrived, the atmosphere had shifted from calm to electric. Their chants rose to the stars, feet stomping in rhythm with sounds that spoke straight to the soul. We couldn’t resist we joined in. The ground shook beneath us, laughter and music blending in pure freedom.
