There I was—a first-time safari-goer in Uganda’s remote Kidepo Valley, armed with shiny new binoculars and the misguided confidence of someone who’d watched too many nature documentaries. I had imagined myself as some sort of modern-day David Attenborough, calmly observing wildlife with the poise of a seasoned tracker. The universe, it seemed, had other plans.

It happened during my very first game drive. Our guide, a wonderfully patient man named Joseph, had just pointed out a pair of Secretary Birds strutting through the tall grass like Victorian-era aristocrats. I fumbled with my binoculars, eager to get a closer look, when suddenly—a flash of iridescent blue swooped down from a nearby acacia tree. Before I could react, a mischievous Superb Starling had landed on my arm, cocked its head with what I swear was amusement, and in one audacious move, snatched the strap of my binoculars right from my hands.

For a moment, time stood still. The bird hovered mid-air, my expensive optics dangling precariously from its beak, as if taunting me. Then, with a triumphant chirp, it fluttered to a nearby branch, where it proceeded to peck curiously at the lenses while I stood there, utterly dumbfounded. Joseph burst into laughter, the kind that comes from years of watching tourists get outsmarted by wildlife. “Ah,” he said, wiping his eyes, “that one—he’s been stealing things since he was a chick. Last week, it was a British lady’s sunglasses.”

What followed was a ridiculous, ten-minute standoff between me, Joseph, and a bird that clearly considered itself the rightful owner of my gear. We tried everything—gentle coaxing, offering a granola bar as a trade (which the starling ignored with regal disdain), and even attempting to climb the tree (a humiliating failure). Finally, the bird—perhaps bored by our incompetence—dropped the binoculars into a bush below and flew off, leaving me to fish them out, slightly scratched but otherwise intact.

That starling taught me three invaluable safari lessons that no guidebook had mentioned:

1. Wildlife doesn’t follow scripts. No matter how many documentaries you’ve seen, animals will always surprise you—whether it’s a thieving bird, a warthog that photobombs your perfect lion shot, or an elephant that decides to inspect your vehicle a little too closely.
2. The best safari stories come from mishaps. Years from now, you won’t remember the perfectly framed photos half as vividly as the time a monkey stole your lunch or a curious giraffe licked your camera lens.
3. Uganda’s wild west doesn’t care about your plans—and that’s the magic of it.

By the end of the trip, I’d been outwitted by birds, out-stared by a grumpy buffalo, and thoroughly schooled in the art of surrendering control to the wild. And you know what? I wouldn’t trade a single second of it.

So if you’re heading to Kidepo, Queen Elizabeth, or any of Uganda’s untamed corners, pack your sense of humor along with your binoculars. Because out here, the animals aren’t just part of the scenery—they’re the ones running the show.