Notch’s son is oblivious to all. Fast asleep on the golden grasses of the Mara plains, his paw rests on the lone fig tree.

He cuts an awesome figure – a male lion in the prime and arrogance of his youth. He’s just a few feet off the road.

“This is Notch Junior,” John Parmasau ole Kerore, the senior guide at Mara Intrepids introduces the lion.

John has been in the Mara for 18 years so he knows the Mara lions by sight – and tells stories of the cats as if you’re watching a soap opera.

This one sighting of a lion has everyone in the car excited. We’re on an Intrepids flying safari across from Samburu.

The landscapes are as different as chalk from cheese but the open spaces are simply stunning.

From the air, we know we’re in the Mara. A herd of almost 50 elephants – looking like toy figures – are walking to the Mara River.

I’m sure the parched elephants in Samburu would love it here. The migration of the wildebeest is over and the grasses are long. Waiting for everyone to join us for a sundowner on the plains under the signature fig tree, I miss the shot of a lifetime – a white-backed vulture riding the thermals.

But I make up for it on a 6.30am game drive. Driving over Smelly Crossing on the Ntiakntiak River where the hippos honk and send spurts of water droplets into the air, we come to our first family waking up at sunrise – spotted hyenas come out of their underground dens as the red-gold orb rises. It’s surreal.

Interesting hyenas

The hyenas may not be as handsome as the lions or as well known, but watching the females with their tiny babies puts them on another level.

A few of them are collared and I make a date with the hyena researcher to tell me more about this once prolific animal south of the Sahara. Like the lions, their numbers are on a sharp decline.

Known as scavengers, it has come to light that they hunt most of their prey but are opportunists. They have jaws stronger than the lions’, to crunch their way to the bone marrow.

A dark wave shows and it’s the buffalo herd of hundreds mowing its way across the reserve while a few wallow in the muddy pool close to a gigantic elephant.

As John drives past them, a breeze sways the magical grass changing the colour from gold to rust. The Mara is the Mara because of this rich grass-granary.

Playful cheetahs

Two young cheetahs have moved in from another part of the Mara into the Ol Kiombo terrain.

“Their mother was killed and you can see that they are young – see the tufts of hair?” John continues.

Luckily, the youngsters are old enough to look after themselves but Shakira, the female, has left the plains and John doesn’t know where she is.

However, another lot of young cheetahs is keeping guests happy by climbing onto the cars, making for great pictures.

But the best is yet come: it’s Notch, the only black-maned lion on this side of the Mara, with a young female.

“He’s getting old; the end of his tail is almost hairless,” remarks John. “I’m worried about the coming migration.

“There will be young males following the wildebeest and Notch might have it tough defending his territory.”

Notch suddenly stands and stretches. John smiles. “But you know what? Notch knows how to survive. He never gets into a fight. He keeps away from trouble.”

It seems to be a good survival tactic. Try saying this – Oleshargegilolltoriroi.

He’s the Maasai naturalist at the camp who gives fascinating walks and talks and even lectures in the USA about his proud culture.

If his name is too much of a mouthful, stick to Joseph.