by Ngorongoro Crater in Tanzania is the world’s largest volcanic caldera, a lost world style home to an array of iconic animals.
Last year I went to Tanzania on holiday. I had long wanted to go; the Serengeti, Mount Kilimanjaro, Zanzibar, the country seemed full of exciting places.
And these famous spots did not disappoint.
One place I had not heard of, before planning my trip, was Ngorongoro Crater. This is the world’s largest intact volcanic caldera, a giant crater left from a long-vanished mountain.
Lonely Planet describes it like this:
‘Its steep walls soar to 610m and provide the setting for an incredible natural drama, as prey and predators graze and stalk their way around the crater floor. It’s such an impressive sight you’ll wonder whether you’ve descended into paradise.’
I looked at a few photos and immediately added it to my itinerary.
Tanzania is a country with a long history. In a way, it has the longest history: this is the location of Olduvai Gorge, where some of the first hominids are known to have lived.
Olduvai is in the north of the country, near the border with Kenya, an area of sun-baked plains and oasis-like rivers and lakes. The water draws the area’s famous animals, who congregate nearby; millions of years ago this included Homo Habilus, AKA: Handy Man, an early precursor to human beings.
Next door to Olduvai, is Ngorongoro Crater.
The crater was formed 2.5 million years ago, when the region was volcanically active.
Techtronic plate movement created a mountain range that erupted regularly, showering the surrounding area with debris. Some of this can still be seen today: Mwanza and Lake Victoria, hundreds of kilometres to the west, both feature giant basalt boulders, spewed out in these eruptions.
It is hard to imagine rocks this massive, being thrown such a distance.
Ngorongoro Crater began as one of the largest of these volcanos, a mountain estimated to be 5 000 metres high. It was so geologically active that a vast magma chamber formed within it, filled with molten lava.
Over time, regular eruptions emptied the chamber, which then collapsed inwards; as the area became less volcanically active, erosion wore away the top and sides of the mountain.
The result was a huge crater, 20 kilometres wide and covering an area of 260 square kilometres. The 600 metre high rim made a kind of wall, that created a largely contained ecosystem within.
Living in the crater are some of the world’s most iconic animal species.
This includes the tourist favourite ‘big five’: lions, leopards, elephants, water buffalo and black rhinos. Many others live alongside, including significant populations of wildebeest and zebra.
Some 25 000 animals live in the crater.
Ngorongoro is perhaps best known for its lion population, which is one of the largest in any African park. One animal that is not found there are giraffes, which are common in most African parks; their long legs prevent them from climbing inside.
The animals that do live there have a near perfect environment, with plentiful water and food; one challenge is inbreeding, due to the restricted numbers.
The crater is also home to more than 500 bird species. These come in a wide variety, everything from ostriches – the world’s largest bird – and several species of eagle, to tiny songbirds smaller than a fist.
Humans arrived in the area around 2 000 years ago, when the Mbulu tribe settled nearby. They lived there for around 1500 years, until displaced by the Maasai in the 17th century.
The Maasai are a semi-nomadic ethnic group from Egypt, who moved south looking for grazing land. Known for their bright red robes, their traditional way of life was pastoral, centred around herds of cattle and goats.
The animals were used for food and were the tribe’s primary indicator of wealth. The livestock shaped these people’s lives more broadly, as they moved with the animals, seeking water and feed.
The Maasai established villages both on the rim of Ngorongoro, and on the crater floor.
In the latter part of the 19th century, all the major European powers sought colonial possessions in Africa. Nominally this was to improve the standard of living; in reality it was done for prestige and material wealth, the different nations competing against each other.
History would call it, ‘the scramble for Africa’.
Germany had several possessions; their claim in the east, known as German East Africa, was established in 1885. The claim was substantial, covering more than a million square kilometres, encompassing present day Tanzania, Rwanda and Burundi.
The native population was several million; most lived in small villages, and farmed the surrounding land. The Germans based themselves in the cities, which they modernised.
Their rule was harsh, utilising colonial police and brutal tactics to suppress any resistance. Soldiers were stationed across the country, to enforce the regime’s control.
In the region under German control, scores of European naturalists and adventurers descended, to explore this largely unknown territory. One of these was Oscar Baumann.
Baumann was originally from Vienna, where he studied natural history. After graduating he travelled to Africa in 1885, serving as cartographer on an expedition along the Congo River.
He would contonue to explore German East Africa, and in 1888 was one of the first Europeans to see Mount Kilimanjaro. But this trip would end dramatically: caught in a local uprising, the ‘Abushiri Revolt’, he was taken prisoner by a local tribe and only rescued after a ransom was paid.
Undeterred, he would return to the region to lead a major expedition in 1891. Partnered with geographer Hans Meyer, the pair explored what would be the northern part of Tanzania, visiting Arusha, Lake Manyara and the Great Rift Valley.
On March 18, the party encountered Ngorongoro Crater, the first Europeans to do so:
‘At noon we suddenly found ourselves on a sheer cliff, and looked down into the oblong bowl, the remains of an old crater. Its bottom was grassland, alive with game.’
– Oscar Baumann, from his journal
The expedition would descend and camp on the crater floor. Baumann’s journal would also note a number of Maasai tribesmen watching them closely, seemingly displeased with their arrival.
German settlers came to East Africa as well. Two of these, brothers Adolph and Friedrich Siedentopf, established a farm on the Ngorongoro Crater floor.
Much as the Maasai tribesmen had discovered, the Germans found the crater ideally suited to farming. Despite the remote location, the nearest proper settlement was hundreds of kilometres away, their property thrived: they planted sisal and wheat, and ran several thousand head of cattle.
For their friends they offered lodging, a chance to hunt big game and see the African frontier.
They also faced a number of difficulties. Violent clashes with the Maasai became common, the crater’s wild animals regularly claimed the brother’s livestock.
While the brothers worked the land together, they lived apart, in two farmhouses sepearated by eight miles. The continued to run the property until the outbreak of World War I.
The war, and its aftermath, caused maps to be redrawn all over the world. Among the changes: the defeated powers were forced to give up their colonial possessions.
But for many people living in these regions, this meant not independence, but transference.
As one of the largest colonial territories, German East Africa was broken up and split among a number of European states. Belgium was awarded what would become Rwanda and Burundi, a smaller part in the south of the territory was claimed by Portugal.
The remainder was given to Britain. What would become mainland Tanzania was then known as ‘Tanganika’, and fell under a different kind of colonial rule.
The British decided that Ngorongoro Crater should have some environmental protection, and took their first measure in 1921: a permit system to restrict hunting. In 1928 it was banned outright, except in a small reserve set aside for the purpose (located on part of the former Siedentopf farm).
Further laws and protections would come over the following decades, as the unique nature of the crater and its surrounds was recognised. The area was made a National Park, originally part of nearby Serengeti National Park, in 1949.
Under the ledaership of Julius Nyerere, Tanganika gained independence from Britain in 1961, and in 1964 joined with Zanzibar to form the nation of Tanzania. The new government would continue to increase environmental protections and expand the country’s national parks.
Ngorongoro Crater was proclaimed a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1979; today it is the centre of the Ngorongoro Conservation Area, managed by its own dedicated authority. Hundreds of thousands of tourists visit each year.
The Maasai continue to live in villages on its rim, although they are no longer allowed to farm or hunt on the crater floor.
I visited Ngorongoro Crater in October 2024. I went as part of an organised tour, which covered a few national parks over a few days.
Our driver and guide was Ziggy: a tall, thin, middle aged African man with sunglasses, salt and pepper stubble, and a Tanzanian baseball cap. Ziggy was from Arusha, the nearest major town.
We went via a pop-top Landcruiser, the work horse of the African safari industry.
The road to the crater climbed steeply through a jungle-like setting. We crossed the cloud line, and the scenery was then shrouded in wispy white; you could tell, but not see, there was a sharp drop off on one side.
It took maybe an hour to get to the crater’s top, then we were on a narrow track that skirted the rim. The view was otherworldly.
We looked across a vast expanse, the circular shape was pronounced. In the distance, the snaggle-toothed far wall of the crater, purple coloured; in the middle, at the bottom, a pale blue lake, surrounded by yellow, grassy plains.
It was hard to imagine the whole thing filled with lava at some distant, earlier time.
On the crater floor were thousands of animals.
We saw African buffalo, glossy black with charcoal-coloured horns, curled tightly to their heads. Ziggy advised they could weigh up to two tonnes.
We saw big herds of zebra and wildebeest, milling slowly in groups.
There were many gazelles, including Thompson’s Gazelle: a handsome animal in two shades of light brown, with a line dividing the two colours, around their thigh.
We saw a jackal, that looked like a dog crossed with fox; it watched us from the grass with a big happy look, then spotted something to catch and went after it all full speed.
We saw a hyena, hustling along with its strange, hangdog walk and sly face.
We saw some truly amazing birds: a Secretarybird, that looked a bit like a cool 80s teen going out on the town, and a Gray Crowned Crane, the national bird of Tanzania, whose gold mohawk and red-white-and-black face made it look like a glam punk.
We also saw a small, colourful bird called a Hornbill, that people correctly identified as a Zazu from the Lion King.
In the afternoon, we saw lions.
Firstly, a group of them, sleeping beside a watering hole. Occasionally one of them woke up, had a groggy look around, yawned, then lay down again; Ziggy advised that lions will sleep for days at a time, hunting perhaps only once a week, resting otherwise.
Even in this state they looked powerful and composed; apex predators in their perfect environment.
Later again we saw a solo female, emerge out of the grassy plains and stride into the road in front of us. Paying no mind to our jeep, she kept a steady pace, her mouth slightly open.
Then she was away into the plains on the other side, shortly blurring from view, following a path unknowable to us.
At the end of the day we drove up the crater wall towards the exit. The scale of it was incredible.
We stopped at the top for a few final pictures. The view remained staggering; it was not just a beautiful visual spectacle, but like looking through time.
As I leant on the railing and had one final extended look, the middle-aged man alongside me, a stranger, said:
‘I can hardly believe what I’m seeing.’
