Serengeti National Park

Here's the first thing to know: the Serengeti isn't one place. It's a whole system, roughly the size of Northern Ireland, and where you should be in it depends almost entirely on the month you're travelling. Get that right and the park is extraordinary. Get it wrong and you'll spend a lot of money driving between camps, looking at empty grass.

The short-grass plains in the south hold the herds from about December to March. From April they move north and west, and by July all eyes turn to the rivers. None of this runs to a timetable, though. It follows the rain, and the rain is never punctual.

So, why the Serengeti? Start with the size: 14,763 square kilometres. That number matters, because it's the reason this park behaves differently from everywhere else you'll go. It's big enough to hold a complete ecosystem, with the grazers, the predators that follow them and the scavengers that follow those, without the edges pressing in. Most reserves in Africa are islands. This one is very nearly big enough not to be.

That size is also why people misjudge it. Give the Serengeti one night and you'll have seen one corner of a park you could drive across for five hours without repeating yourself. And that corner was probably Seronera, because that's where the airstrip and the lodges are. Don't get us wrong, Seronera is excellent. It just isn't the whole Serengeti.

The other big reason to come? The density of large predators here is among the highest anywhere. Lions are genuinely common, not a lucky find. Cheetahs use the short-grass plains in the south, because they hunt by sight and need to see a long way. Leopards lounge in the riverine trees along the Seronera and the Grumeti. Nobody can guarantee you any of them, but over three or four days your odds are about as good as they get.

And then there's the migration. It's the reason most people come, and honestly, it's also the reason most people plan their trip in the wrong order. Don't worry, we cover it properly further down this page.

Lion. The Serengeti holds one of the largest lion populations of any protected area on earth. Prides here are big (twenty animals isn't unusual out on the plains) because there's so much prey to go round. Keep an eye on the kopjes, those granite outcrops poking out of the grass. They give a lion shade, a lookout and a den site, which is three things a lion wants in one place.

Cheetah. Your best bet is the southern and eastern short-grass plains, especially in the green months when the grass is short enough to hunt over. A cheetah perched on a termite mound, scanning the horizon, is one of the more reliable sights of a January or February morning.

Leopard. The Seronera valley is the classic spot. The sausage trees and yellow-barked acacias along the river give leopards nice horizontal branches to stretch out on. Finding one comes down to a guide knowing which trees have been used lately, and that's exactly the kind of thing that sets great guides apart.

Elephant and buffalo. You'll find both right across the park, in numbers that have recovered a lot since the poaching years. Buffalo herds in the western corridor can run to several hundred.

The nearly two million. Wildebeest, plains zebra and Thomson's gazelle make up the migration. Where they are shapes a lot of what else you'll see, because the predators go wherever the food is.

Rhino. They're here, in very small numbers, around the Moru kopjes. Realistically, though, you won't see one. If anyone tells you otherwise, they're setting you up for disappointment.

Birds. Over five hundred species! Kori bustards and secretary birds stalk the plains, there's a lilac-breasted roller on every third bush, and when the green season brings the migrants in, the numbers jump again.

The name comes from the Maasai word siringet, usually translated as “the place where the land runs on forever”. For once, the marketing translation is pretty close to the truth. But here's the thing: the park isn't one landscape, and knowing the difference is how you choose where to sleep.

The southern plains are true short-grass grassland, almost treeless, sitting on volcanic ash that blew over from the Ngorongoro highlands. That ash makes soil rich in calcium and phosphorus, and that's why the wildebeest give birth here and nowhere else: nursing mothers need those minerals. In the green months, this is the best place in the whole ecosystem to be. By July, though, it's dry, empty and quiet.

The central Seronera valley is where things change over: acacia woodland, a river that holds water, and the kopjes. Resident animals live here all year round, which is why a camp in the centre is never a wasted week.

The western corridor follows the Grumeti River almost all the way to Lake Victoria. Expect thicker bush, black-cotton soil that turns into a real problem when it's wet, and the Grumeti crocodiles, which are seriously large.

The north, up towards Kogatende and the Mara River, is rolling hill country cut through by streams and rivers. From roughly July to October this is river-crossing country, and for the rest of the year it has far fewer vehicles than the centre.

Here's what surprises most people: the migration isn't a single event, and it doesn't have a season in the way you might expect. Roughly two million animals move in a continuous loop through the Serengeti ecosystem. (That includes the Maasai Mara in Kenya, which is really the same ecosystem under a different name.) They're somewhere in it all year. So the question is never whether you'll see the migration. It's where in the loop they'll be when you're there, and so where you should sleep.

Roughly December to March, the herds are on the southern and eastern plains. Calving peaks over a few weeks in late January and February, when something like eight thousand calves a day are born into a landscape full of predators. For sheer action, this is arguably the best time of year, and it's quieter and cheaper than the crossing months too.

In April and May, the long rains scatter them and the columns start moving north and west.

In June and July, it's the western corridor and the Grumeti, and then the push north.

Roughly July to October, they're in the northern Serengeti and at the Mara River. This is crossing season, the one everybody has seen on TV.

In November, the short rains bring them south again.

Now, two honest warnings. First, those months are averages from past years, not a timetable. The herds follow the rain, and the rain moves. Second, a river crossing comes down to luck, even when you're camped twenty minutes from the right stretch of river in the right week. Herds can gather at a crossing point for hours or even days and then go without warning, or simply turn round and walk away. Anyone who guarantees you a crossing is guessing or selling. What we can do is put you in the right area and give you enough days for a bit of patience to pay off.

Game drives are the heart of it, and a good day looks like this: out before six, back for the middle of the day, out again at four. Trust us, the first and last two hours of light are worth more than the six in between put together.

A full-day drive with a packed lunch is the single best upgrade you can make to a Serengeti trip, and it costs nothing except being willing to stay out. You'll reach parts of the park a morning loop can't, and you'll still be there when something that was fast asleep at eleven gets up at three.

Hot-air ballooning takes off before dawn and lands for breakfast on the grass. Yes, it's expensive, and it books up well in advance. But that hour of low light drifting over the plains is genuinely unlike anything you can do from a vehicle.

Walking safaris are allowed in certain areas with an armed ranger. Being on foot changes the scale of everything: suddenly you notice the tracks, dung, insects and birds that a vehicle zooms past at thirty kilometres an hour.

The Moru kopjes hide Maasai rock paintings and a natural “gong rock”. If you're in the south, they're well worth the detour.

Photography. Is this the main point of your trip? Then tell us when you get in touch. It changes the vehicle, the seating, the hours and the guide, and it's the difference between driving past a sighting and really working it.

By air. Light aircraft fly every day from Arusha and from Kilimanjaro International to a number of Serengeti airstrips: Seronera in the centre, Kogatende in the north, Ndutu in the south and several others. Flying turns a full day of driving into about an hour, and on a shorter trip that's the best money you'll spend on the whole itinerary. Luggage on these little planes is limited and usually has to be soft-sided, but don't worry, we'll confirm the exact allowance for your flights.

By road. From Arusha it's a long day: roughly eight hours to Seronera, depending on the route, the state of the road and how often you stop. Most itineraries break it up by coming through Lake Manyara or Tarangire and over the Ngorongoro highlands. That's a spectacular drive in its own right. You come down into the park past the Naabi Hill gate, and the plains just open out in front of you. Driving in and flying out is a popular and sensible compromise.

Park fees are charged per person, per twenty-four hours, and they're set by TANAPA, not by us. They're the biggest single line on most Serengeti quotes, and they can't be discounted. So if a quote looks unusually cheap, check this line. It's often the one that's been quietly shortened.

Getting around inside the park takes longer than the map suggests. Seronera to Kogatende is most of a day by road. If your trip moves between regions, an internal flight is usually worth it.