Craters to Flamingos, Hiking through Tanzania

Jonathan Goldsmith discovers the remote corners of Northern Tanzania on a hike from the Empakai Crater to Lake Natron

Arriving at the Ngorongoro Crater for the first time is nothing short of spectacular. The vast plain, contained by the rim of an ancient volcano, stretches out beneath you in dramatic silence. For many, this is the destination – a highlight of African wildlife and scenery that rarely disappoints. For me, though, it was a brief stop en route to our first camp, a few miles north at the Empakaai Crater.

I had landed in Tanzania three days earlier. After cycling on the slopes of Kilimanjaro, it was time for the real reason I’d come: to hike the lesser-known trails on the eastern edge of the Serengeti. From Empakaai to Lake Natron, and on into the Gol Mountains, we would follow ancient footpaths past volcanoes and remote villages, mostly staying in fly-camps along the way, read on, or find the full itinerary here.

Just north of Ngorongoro, a leopard darted across the road in front of our vehicle – sleek, silent and gone in a flash. A reminder, if ever there was one, of just how wild this land remains.

Before settling in, we met our local Maasai guide, Lale, and set off to stretch our legs – and test them – with a descent into Empakaai Crater. At 3,250m above sea level, the edge offers a superb view of the lake at its centre. The trail winds through dense forest where we spotted birds and a tree hyrax, Lale leading at a steady pace while sharing stories of the land and his people.

The Maasai still herd their cattle and sheep here, as they have for generations, though conservation rules are shifting to preserve this delicate ecosystem. Involving the Maasai as guides is key to this. It ensures their knowledge is valued and their future secured.

Back at camp, we freshened up before dinner. As the sun dipped behind the crater rim and stars appeared, we gathered around the fire.

What is fly-camping really like?

If you’ve never done it, here’s what to expect. You don’t pitch your own tent – that’s all handled. The tents are tall enough to stand in, with surprisingly comfortable cot-beds. There’s a simple but warm shower and a dining tent. While it’s not luxurious, it’s well thought through – and the locations are wonderfully remote.

A blush-pink sunrise and strong Kenyan coffee set us up for the first full day of trekking. The air was crisp as we followed the rim, through tangled jungle alive with birdsong and occasional signs of buffalo, elephant and even leopard. The pace was steady, the views ever more dramatic.

Soon, we caught our first glimpse of Ol Doinyo Lengai – the perfectly conical volcano that dominates this region. It would become a constant companion in the days ahead.

Leaving the forest, the trail dipped into the valley. We left the conservation area behind and followed cattle paths to a small village.

What struck me most was the quiet. No vehicles. Not even one of the ubiquitous Chinese motorbikes found across much of Africa. Just the clink of cattle bells and the laughter of children waving furiously. Though just a few miles from Ngorongoro – which sees half a million visitors a year – this place felt a world away. Fewer than 0.0002% of those tourists ever come this far. And our walk had only just begun.

We stopped in the village centre to refill water and chat with the elders. As we left, we began to pass children herding goats and sheep – entrusted with the family’s wealth while older siblings were at school.

Lale explained: goats and sheep are cash. Cattle? That’s your pension.

We lunched under an acacia tree, then pressed on with Lengai looming ahead and Lake Natron shimmering faintly in the distance. The day ended beneath yellow fever trees, vervet monkeys darting through the canopy. A short climb took us to a lookout to watch the sun set over the volcano.

The land shaped by fire

The next day we followed an ancient path – still used by villagers heading to market. Yet the landscape is young, formed during Lengai’s 2007 eruption. After months of tremors, the volcano covered the region in ash, reshaping the earth.

Now, new hills of dark ash are carpeted with grasses. Trees have taken root. The path dropped steeply, revealing staggering views of the floodplain and Lake Natron far below.

As altitude fell, the heat rose. By midday, it was over 30°C with little shade. Thankfully, vehicles met us before the final 10km stretch across open ground.

Lake Natron Camp, shaded by trees and with the volcano looming behind, was a welcome sight. The tents are large, the beds vast, the bathrooms spacious – and the massage that afternoon was probably the most deserved of my life.

Lake Natron is best known as a key breeding site for lesser flamingos. But less than a mile from camp lies something even more extraordinary: a set of human footprints, fossilised in soft rock, dating back 12,000 years.

Adults, children, even cattle – captured mid-stride across the floodplain. Remarkably, you can still witness similar scenes today. It’s humbling, especially when considered alongside the finds at Olduvai Gorge, just a few hours away, where remains date back 3.2 million years.

It’s a powerful reminder of how many have walked this land before us.

For some, the journey ends here, with a drive into Olduvai Gorge and on to the Serengeti.

For me, it was only halfway. The next leg would take us deep into the Gol Mountains, following paths the Maasai have used for millennia.

Read more about that next chapter here.