At Safari West, see African animals without airfare
At Safari West, see African animals without airfare
A few moments into my stay at Sonoma County’s 400-acre nature preserve, Safari West, waiting for a short private tour and watching the 125-strong flamingo flock, I exclaimed in true astonishment, “Wow, flamingos actually stand on one leg.”
“I always thought they were just really good at exactly lining up their legs,” I explained, climbing into a big yellow ’50s-era Dodge Power Wagon.
Some scientists think birds — it’s not just flamingos — do that to conserve energy, or body heat.
Over several years, the enterprise grew into what the website calls an “African adventure in the heart of California wine country.”
There are also 32 luxe hillside “glamping” tents, with wooden floors and bathrooms, like nice hotel rooms minus TV and Internet.
The majority of its 70,000 yearly visitors come for the three-hour guided safari experience — one hour with the birds, monkeys, assorted carnivores (a tiny fox, servals, cheetahs) and then two hours driving through the “savannah” where giraffes, antelope, rhinoceroses, wildebeests and their animal friends lope around in large, gated enclosures.
If you’re staying overnight, there’s a nice, no-nonsense dining hall where they serve nice, no-nonsense food and totally decent beer and wine, but again, the draw is the 900 animals of 80 species — not la gastronomie.
The vehicles travel through a series of enclosures — anyone who wants to be a guide here should be inclined to mark “strongly agree” on the statement “I love opening and closing gates” — allowing guests to get very close to the animals.
Nancy, 65, wore pearl earrings and had effortless manners at as much risk of extinction as the Nicobar pigeon in Safari West’s 45-species bird collection.
Families filled the rustic, homey dining room, with children ranging from toddlers to teens.
The family braved the seat on top of the jeep but I tucked myself in under the canopy, wrapped myself in three blankets and looked out at the rolling hills, deeply green and velvety, like the arm of an expensive couch.
For me, the proximity was thrilling enough, seeing the giraffe’s pattern and the hay matted into a Cape buffalo’s severe brow.
Nevers’ animal facts, relayed with unflagging enthusiasm despite the rain and constant gate attendance, gave the experience context.
“Does anyone know how long an addax can go without drinking from an open water source?” Answer:
She had a pleasant patter, rueful hesitance followed by satisfied reassurance: “So we do have the dama gazelle and the bongo gazelle in the same pen, yes, and they’re not the same species, but they know not to mate with each other, because they’re smart, which is really cool.”