We’ve climbed to this spot, led by a tall, lean Maasai man named Manuel, to see a waterfall, and we are enveloped by beauty.
A narrow, deeply-cut chasm zig zags from our feet out into the broad depression of the famous Ngorongoro crater. The interlocking ridges on the left are last year’s tall golden grass and those reaching in from the right glow with bright green tender shoots encouraged by the herders’ controlled burn. At our shoulder, rushing spring water tumbles into the chasm far below.We are warmed by the hot sun and cooled by the sweet mountain breeze and time stands still. 
The Crater, 20 km across and softened by the morning haze, is a patchwork of savannah and swamp, woodland and soda lake; the largest un-flooded caldera in the world and one of its eight wonders. Embraced by its tall blue walls, it is cut off, a safe citadel, a lost world where grazers and predators intermingle.
Yesterday, we had parked beside well-fed lions asleep in the mid-day heat only meters from neighbourly zebras, gnus, gazelles, ostriches and warthogs, grazing shoulder-to-shoulder on the nutritious grass, seemingly oblivious to each other.
Idyllic as it may seem, it is no lost Eden; not
far away, a regal male lion panted in the breeze beside his fresh kill, a disembowelled gnu. We had seen zebras scatter as 3 cheetahs with blood spattered mouths 
toss their gazelle lunch in the air. Sun bleached rib-cages and tumbled buffalo skulls litter the banks of a wetland.
far away, a regal male lion panted in the breeze beside his fresh kill, a disembowelled gnu. We had seen zebras scatter as 3 cheetahs with blood spattered mouths 
toss their gazelle lunch in the air. Sun bleached rib-cages and tumbled buffalo skulls litter the banks of a wetland.The harsh realities of daily life contrast sharply with the experience of the tourist. High above on the Crater rim, luxury lodges provide panoramic vistas from well-appointed rooms. Gin and tonics are enjoyed on the lawn as the sun sets over the far rim. Buffet breakfasts and 3-course dinners are attended by staff with ‘jambo’ and ‘karibo’ greetings. Sturdy Toyota Land Cruisers, 4-wheeled tanks, bounce you the 600 meters down to the Crater floor in the morning and safely skitter you up at the end of the day.
The two realities – the predator and prey on the floor, and the tourists on the rim – may exist in sharp contrast, but they also survive because of each other. The animals draw the tourists and the tourism dollars have encouraged Tanzania to protect the crater, rim and highlands beyond. Those dollars that are not spirited away by foreign owners of hotel chains and safari companies pay for the Conservation staff and anti-poaching patrols. 
The politics of tourism is fascinating , but for one morning, it was a rare privilege for us to step off the tourist track and out of the tank-like Cruiser , follow Manuel up to the waterfall and stop time long enough to drink in one of the most breath-taking landscapes I’ve ever seen. 
