I spent a night in Kenya’s remote bush, and it changed how I think about safaris

It’s the night of the blood moon in northern Kenya. We sit in a loose semicircle around a crackling bushfire, our canvas chairs settled into the sand of a long-dried riverbed. The flames warm our faces as embers drift up into the starry sky. Gin and tonics sweat in our hands while the bush comes alive at night. Somewhere nearby, hyenas giggle and whoop in the darkness, and a silent group of giraffes glides across the riverbed ahead, their tall silhouettes graceful in the half-light. As the…