“You’re here by yourself?” The taxi driver sounded surprised. Or, perhaps, simply unused to ferrying lone, middle-aged women to Tanzania’s Kilimanjaro International Airport, where I planned to hop a propeller plane to a dirt airstrip in the middle of the country’s vast savannah.

I’m married (happily); I have friends (I swear). Yet going on safari alone intrigued me, because even as solo travel has soared in popularity, safaris retain their reputation as the realm of families and honeymooners. I wondered what it would be like to experience one of the world’s wildest places by myself – and had recently learned that the number of solo safari-goers has been steadily, if quietly, growing.

“It’s definitely a trend we’re seeing,” said Monique Langue, a safari expert with go2Africa from Cape Town, South Africa. In 2024, around 13 per cent of the company’s travellers were on their own, an 8-per-cent increase from the previous year. The trips aren’t just for loners, Langue said. “You can be a solo traveller, join a small group and meet some new people,” she said. “But for others, travelling alone is really about that experience of a solo trip.”

I was invited to discover two of Africa’s top safari camps in both price and guest experience – and so planned a two-part solo trip encompassing both sides of the wildlife-rich Mara–Serengeti ecosystem that spans the border between Kenya and Tanzania. First, a stay at Singita Grumeti in Tanzania’s 350,000-acre Grumeti Game Reserve. Next, I’d fly to Maasai Mara National Reserve, in Kenya, where I’d be sleeping in one of the well-appointed, canvas-sided tents at andBeyond Bateleur Camp.

“What do you most want to see? What we do is totally up to you,” said Grumeti safari guide David Mnazi, when my plane touched down at the reserve’s private airstrip. If solo trips can occasionally leave travellers feeling at loose ends, I quickly found that, with their activity-packed schedules, safaris are a bit like grown-up summer camp.

During my stay at Grumeti, Mnazi would be my guide for twice-daily game drives, designed to catch the morning and evening hours when animals are most active. Within minutes of leaving the airstrip, we’d seen the lilac-breasted roller – a flamboyantly coloured bird – followed by warthogs snacking on grass in a gossipy knot. I relished the flexibility that the solo drives gave me. At times, I chose low-key birdwatching feet from the lodge; another day, we decided to cross the reserve in pursuit of a pride of lions, who we found drowsing in the thorny crowns of acacia trees.

In the heat of the day, I retreated to the Singita Faru Faru lodge, where my suite overlooked the roiling Grumeti River. I savoured the long afternoons: my netting-swathed bed hinted at indulgent naps, while a watercolour painting set invited creative interludes. The minibar bar was stocked with chilled South African chenin blanc. Tucked in the corner was a cork yoga mat that I pulled out each day, spreading it on my veranda and following the step-by-step mindfulness meditation instructions set thoughtfully alongside.

Many solo safari trips, like mine, come with hefty single supplement fees that may explain the relative rarity of going it alone. That may be changing. At Singita, where a week-long safari costs as much as a compact car, lone travellers aren’t charged more. Meanwhile, andBeyond waives their 50 per cent single supplement fee during two low seasons, from mid-January through April plus November through late December.

“Camps and lodges are starting to see the value in being a little more flexible when it comes to solo travellers,” Langue said. It takes some looking, she acknowledged, but noted that going in the rainy season, as I did, makes such deals easier to find. In quiet periods, she’s had success negotiating down single supplements even when they’re listed in the official rates. Flights are more affordable in the low season, too. Visitors to remote lodges might even find themselves alone on the plane, as I did on an early morning flight to the second game reserve on my safari itinerary.

“Welcome to your private plane,” said the co-pilot, from the open cockpit of the twin-engine propeller AirKenya flight from Nairobi’s Wilson Airport. “Next stop, Maasai Mara National Reserve.” A veteran andBeyond guide, Wilson Omari, greeted me on the ground with a flute of Champagne, and promptly steered me past a herd of surly-faced buffalo.

Our first official game drive wouldn’t begin until later that day, when we’d go out in search of the black rhino who’d recently been spotted with her young calf. (When we found them, looking placid and alien at the forest’s edge, I squealed in undignified delight but with no other guests nearby to laugh, who cares?).

Until then, I’d luxuriate in a tent that stretched the meaning of the word to its breaking point. At its centre was a plush, leather-trimmed bed with room for a crowd. Its gin bar, cut-glass sherry decanter and vast copper bathtub seemed especially decadent when paired with views of giraffes wandering nearby grassland – explorer-inspired romance upholstered with cheekily Victorian creature comforts.

One morning, I skipped my game drive to join Simon Saitoti, andBeyond’s community and impact officer, for a hike through nearby Nyekweri forest, which provides critical habitat for animals, including the endangered giant pangolin, but has faced rapid deforestation.

Saitoti, a Maasai elder, helps oversee the andBeyond-supported rewilding project currently restoring it, with a tree nursery providing seedlings to the surrounding villages. As we searched for pangolin tracks amid shady groves of wild olives and black ironwood trees, he explained that the forest has exceptional environmental significance, but also a cultural one.

“This is where young Maasai men become warriors,” he said. “When I was a young man, I spent a month in this forest, with no clothes, eating nothing but beef and herbs . . . men from the village came to me, and spoke words to change my heart and make me brave.” Such traditions depended on the forest’s ongoing existence – Saitoti saw his people’s future entwined with that of the ecosystem he was working to protect.

On my last game drive at the camp, I was joined by newlyweds Maddie and Sachin Verma – beatific and just a week past their vows.

Together, we watched a family of elephants clustering around a tiny calf, and sipped cocktails on a bluff high above the Maasai Mara at sunset.

“Would you like to join us for dinner?” Sachin asked, graciously, when we returned to camp. “No thanks,” I replied. “It’s my last night, and I think I’d like to eat alone.”

If you go

All-inclusive safaris at Singita Grumeti Faru Faru start $2,963 a person per night, includes meals, accommodation, two daily game drives, transfers to the airstrip and excellent service. For more, visit singita.com

All-inclusive stays in luxury tents at andBeyond Bateleur camp start at $1,687 per person per night, single supplement waived during low season. Includes meals, accommodation, safari activities, laundry, airport transfers. For more, visit singita.com or andbeyond.com.

Special to The Globe and Mail

The writer was a guest of Singita Grumeti and andBeyond Bateleur Camp. They did not review or approve the story before publication.