What can I say about the Serengeti? The wide plains? The animals? The rough roads?

For many people this vastness means the ultimate freedom. For a girl who’s from a mountainous country, it’s a bit scary. Still breathtaking, still gorgeous, but a bit unsettling.

What can I tell you about Ngorongoro, one of the most magical places I’ve ever been? There are simply no words.

This trip has been on my list of things I wanted to do for so long, it took me a long time to process that it really happened yet. I feel so incredibly blessed and fortunate.

Now, with a bit of distance I remember the moments that left me breathless. The moments that gave me goosebumps and made me tear up. I remember our first evening in the Serengeti and how I felt a bit on edge as we kept driving in the middle of nowhere, no campsite in sight with the sun slowly setting. I remember the frustration of having to set up 15 tents in the dark, not being able to see anything. I remember how I forced myself to rethink and take it as a challenge, rather than an annoyance. I remember being rewarded with a shooting star across the enchanting night sky. I remember feeling humbled. I remember cold nights, bundled up in five layers of clothes. I remember rising early and warming my hands on a cup of tea in the chilly morning air. I remember sunrises and clouds hanging ominously over the rim of the Ngorongoro crater. I remember being too cold to shower for three days straight. I also remember the dust everywhere. In the air, on our clothes, in our mouthes, hair, and on our skin. I remember the thrill of sleeping in a tent next to hyenas and buffalos. I also remember the exhaustion and how I fell asleep the second I lay down in my tent. I remember long bus drives. I remember laughter. I remember drunken confessions and heartfelt conversations. I remember the lions and elephants and zebras.

I remember everything.