How The Lion King changed safari holidays forever

As the Disney epic turns 30, we look at how it shaped a generation’s view of African wildlife and changed the safari industry for the better

Three young lions perched on the riverbank, looking out over the crocodile-infested waters of the Masai Mara. A hundred crocodiles were clustered at the river’s edges, more lurking in the water – and, on the opposite side, what had gathered them all: a dead hippo, heating up under the African sky. 
The lions weighed up their options.
“They will turn back or they will be killed, they will not enter the river,” whispered Benso, our Masai guide. But one did. Hissing as he moved, he tentatively edged his paws into the water, paused, assessed his surroundings, then dropped low and started to swim, his head still visible as he pushed through the water. We watched in horrified anticipation. 
As the tide pulled the lion upstream towards a nest of crocodiles, more began to circle the spot where he entered the water, cutting off his two accomplices. He was on his own. 
As he reached touching distance of the corpse, a crocodile swam towards him, his huge jaw snapping, ready to kill. The lion pushed back, hissing and swiping at his enemy. He stood firm for what seemed like a long time. Then, to our amazement, the crocodile fled. 
“That lion will be king,” I thought.  
There could have been no more fitting way to begin my unforgettable safari in the heart of the Masai Mara, a bucket-list adventure I had longed for ever since my father took me to Robins Cinema in Camberley at five years old, to watch Disney’s The Lion King, released in the UK 30 years ago today. The memory, all these years on, remains clear as day.
I sat in the dark, utterly mesmerised, drinking in the wild creatures and exotic landscapes brought to life in vivid colour on the big screen, things I’d never known existed. I remember not being able to sleep that night, my head swimming with the vast savannah and armies of animals, still full of excitement. And I wasn’t the only one. The Lion King went on to become the year’s highest grossing film, and the highest-grossing animated film of all time. It introduced a whole new generation to the beauty and majesty of Africa’s wildlife, and instilled in many of us a desire to witness it up close. 
But more importantly, it was films like this – Meryl Streep and Robert Redford’s love story Out of Africa (1985), Sigourney Weaver’s heart-wrenching Gorillas in the Mist (1988), The Lion King (1994) – that fundamentally changed the concept of safari forever, both in the public consciousness, and it terms of its purpose.
Safari as we know it today is a far cry from its roots, when wealthy colonists began making the journey to east Africa’s savannas in the early 1900s. Some came exclusively to hunt big game, driving many species to the brink of extinction, while others – novelists, Hollywood stars and royalty – were drawn by the exclusivity afforded by safari’s prohibitive costs, riding out on horseback, with camps and luggage carried ahead by automobile. There was, of course, little thought for the animals’ wellbeing (riders were frequently armed in case they got too close for comfort) or their habitats. 
By the mid-1990s, however, these films had caused a commercial boom in demand for safari holidays. Benso, who has been a guide for Abercrombie & Kent’s luxury Sanctuary Olonana for more than 15 years, explained to me that, as interest grew, so too did the industry’s ability to make positive change. Today, with the impact of centuries of hunting and climate change threatening the livelihoods of both the wildlife and the tribes who populate the regions, safaris are conducted with a focus on conservation and ecotourism. As I witnessed, a commitment to respecting the land is ingrained in every person involved, from the guides and gamekeepers to the owners of the lodges. 
And it was not just the safari industry’s purpose that changed, the whole experience did too. Today, to conduct a safari in anything other than the comfort of a 4×4 is a rarity, and your guides will ordinarily be in constant communication, feeding back information on where any of the “Big Five” might have been spotted. Lodges like Sanctuary Olonana developed from simple tents to established complexes with beautiful apartment-style furnishings. Though still not a cheap holiday choice, the safari became more affordable, and accessible to more people who wanted to appreciate the beauty of animals in the wild, and to contribute to their conservation.
Slowly, Benso told me, the land was transformed; the one main road which they had once used to conduct safaris across the Masai Mara grew into a vast network. The chief of Benso’s Masai tribe would visit all the small villages and encourage their residents to look for work in the safari lodges that were steadily popping up across the savannah, keen for them to gain insight into life outside the tribe. Realising so many were drawn by their experiences of seeing his country on screen, Benso’s boss even instructed him to watch The Lion King. He now gladly takes them to see “Pumbaa”, their local warthog, upon request.
“The internet connection has made safari more popular,” explained John King’ori, one of the managers at Sanctuary Olonana. “People learn about Africa through documentaries and movies in their bedrooms, and then they feel inspired to come see it for themselves. Film has been such an inspiration for the people who travel here. They want their own experience of seeing these unique animals first hand.” 
Though she couldn’t have known it would take her 30 years to get there, I wonder what five-year-old me, sitting in that cinema, would have thought if she had known that, one day, she would be in the heart of that savannah. I watched hippos slinking beneath inky water for respite from the intensity of the African sun; a dazzle of zebras catching their breath at the watering hole; cheetahs chasing gazelle; giraffes chewing at trees; and a memory of elephants striding across the earth – and I thought to myself, everyone should see this. Not just on a screen, but in real life.