The small turboprop lifts off over the turquoise fringe of Zanzibar before the island drops away and the plains of the Serengeti appear like a cut sheet of parchment — grasses burned gold, a threading of rivers and scattered trees. By midmorning you are in Seronera, the caravan of open-sided safari jeeps waiting, engines idling, guides scanning the horizon. That first game drive throws you into the park’s scale: herds that seem to shift as a single organism, a lion lounging in the shade as if keeping time, and the strange intimacy of a tented lodge just outside the gate where zebras and wildebeest sometimes graze within view of the dining table.