Out in the Maasai Mara, hours from our camp and civilization of any kind, there sits a formidable stone. It is the marker of the border between the countries of Kenya and Tanzania.
Out here, there are no border patrols agents or crossing guards, no security of any kind. Which can leave one with a feeling of power, the ability to go where you want without anyone’s permission.
Of course, with only jungle surrounding you, food and water to last you a couple hours at best, and the sound of hippos and crocs within fifty yards, one chooses to climb the stone to say you were in the two countries, and carry on.