Later, a pride of eight dozing lions have vehicles racing for kilometres to see them, when word spreads on safari radio. Eventually there are 23 cars and trucks full of tourists watching intently as the pride stretch and lazily wander around to find new places to sleep in the sun. One lioness tucks herself against the back of a car like a house cat on a lounge.

Then comes the most magnificent sight of all. Four male lions muscle their way confidently across the landscape, like a safari street gang. They take their time as they cover half a kilometre on their way to a lake as every eye in the vicinity watches with awe (the humans) and wary respect (other animals).

Ngorongoro Crater is that kind of place: an oasis for wildlife in Tanzania. A 600-metre-deep crater in an extinct volcano is a haven for an estimated 25,000 large animals including 6000 wildebeest, about 70 of these lions and fewer than 20 surviving black rhinos as well as an extraordinary variety of birds and wildflowers.

After flying from Arusha to Lake Manyara airstrip, it's a 90-minute drive to a lodge that is as striking as the wildlife. The fabulously quirky andBeyond Ngorongoro Crater Lodge is like an African village crossed with a Disney castle. A palatial suite has a vast bed, enough space for two leather armchairs and a bar around a fireplace - handy in the chill of the evening - and a freestanding bath beneath a banana leaf ceiling with a spectacular view from large windows to the crater below.

The friendly service and the food in the domed dining room, modern dishes using traditional Tanzanian produce, are designed to make guests feel comfortable and, frankly, spoiled. Even heading back to the room after dinner, there is another wildlife sighting. Two cape buffalo square off like wrestlers on the lawn outside the dining room. Armed Masai guides warn me to stay exactly where I am while they chase them off.

When the two hyped up buffalo do leave, a dozen more arrive from the darkness like ghosts to follow them across the lawn. Only when it's clear do two Masai - one at front, one at rear - walk me to my room.

Next day's safari includes a lavish breakfast whipped up by our guide by a hippo pool in the warm sun. Later in the day, I join a German honeymoon couple in hiring another Masai as a guide for a walk along the top of the crater the next day. He arrives dressed in camouflage with a submachine gun, which is happily not required.

We encounter a giraffe just 10 metres away on the trail and a herd of elephants a hundred metres below the path.

If it's elephants that really interest you - and there is a lot about them to be interested in - nearby Lake Manyara National Park is an eye-opener. A long-time ban on ivory poaching means numbers have been increasing in one of Tanzania's smaller wildlife reserves at just 325 square kilometres.

There are reputedly more than 300 elephants in the national park now - migrating out then returning as they please - which certainly seems credible when we come across a huge herd during a game drive on our second day. The first sign is just a single elephant crossing the road in front of the safari vehicle Then as we wait, more and more pass ... males, females and infants being ushered across.

Arriving at the lodge for the first time, there is a warm traditional welcome sung by staff in Swahili. Walking through a forest in the compound to a chorus of vervet monkeys, I come across 10 wooden huts on stilts that all seem impossibly secluded. All you can see is forest; all you can hear is a soundscape of close to distant animal noises.

Inside my hut is a huge bed inside mosquito netting, a writing desk, a bathroom with a freestanding bath and screens rather than glass windows. In keeping with the seclusion, there is no TV or music system and, instead of a minibar, there is a canvas bag on a hook full of ice and drinks. A deck, with branches for a balustrade, leads to an outdoor shower in a bamboo enclosure that looks out to the forested escarpment. It's a rare treat to shower outdoors in complete seclusion.

Guests are warned that the lodge is not fenced off so they should watch for elephants and, under no circumstances, walk around at night. If you dial reception, a Masai warrior armed with a rifle or bow and arrow will turn up to escort you to where you want to go.

Meal times are relaxed and ''whatever, whenever, wherever'' is the resort's motto. This service includes private meals and picnic packs. You can eat in the lodge's restaurant and bar area up a flight of stairs, or in the boma, a traditional open area surrounded by a fence, below. You have to watch the monkeys though. Less than an hour after I arrive and sit down to a bowl of soup for lunch, a monkey swoops across from a tree, grabs a chunk of bread and darts off.

Next morning, I'm woken by staff member Abdullah singing beautifully in Swahili as he brings coffee and cookies. When I get back from breakfast later, I find more monkey trouble. There are two in my room who have sneakily opened the unlatched screen door to eat the cookies on the coffee tray.

The chance to visit a local village called Mayoka proves to be well worth it. A community of 2000 people herd cattle, fish and grow corn and sunflowers. I watch them play a traditional board game called bao that uses seeds, visit a school and have a brief kick-around with the kids on a soccer field. No lions, no elephants, just the equally great sight of village children having fun.