A pod of hippos makes a din like a fleet of antique car engines on a cross-country race.

It's this cacophonous chorus of groans and grunts that keeps me awake on my first night in the Masai Mara. I've hooked the canvas flaps of my tent back with the plan to gently drift asleep to the natural noises of the wilderness. But as soon as I doze off, the hippo choir cranks up the volume.

Beware of the hippos
From the noise level, I reason there must be at least half a dozen hippos camped on the grass around my tent. But I dare not unzip the green mesh flap to look. Hippos are aggressive and kill more people in Africa each year than any other wild animal. They are especially dangerous when they come on land at night to graze and have been known to attack anything that comes between them and the water.

I've heard stories of hippos attacking and trampling tourists in camps. And the words of Little Governor's camp manager Peter Cadot ring in my ears.

"Our camp is not fenced so keep your tents zipped up and stay inside during the night. Wild animals do roam the grounds. If you need anything, flash your torch and an armed guard will come," he says.

Everything I need for a comfortable night's sleep is already in my tent, which has a comfy queen bed, bedside tables, a desk, chairs and a wardrobe. There are bathrobes and luxurious toiletries in an ensuite bathroom and the hot showers are a welcome luxury after a day in the wild.

When I do fall asleep, eventually, I dream of psychedelic purple hippos riding gleaming new Harley-Davidson motorcycles across vast straw-coloured plains. I decide that this peculiar nocturnal episode must be a side-effect of the anti-malarial medication I'm taking.

My dream is interrupted by an unpleasant stench and something large bumping into the side of my tent. Then I hear a noise like a muffled machine gun caught in a loop, or perhaps it could be something with a large bottom passing wind. The smell is a strong enough incentive for me to leap out of bed and drop down the flaps. Cadot later confirms that the machine-gun sound was indeed an elephant.

It's pitch black when I arrive at Little Governor's Camp. And as the 17 tents have no electricity, just dim kerosene lamps and candles, it's difficult to make out my surroundings. It's still dark at 6am when I'm accompanied by a guard to the area where I'm to go on a hot-air balloon flight.

The park by sky
There are seven other passengers in the balloon. We drift tranquilly above vast lush green savannah plains, hills and forests. Slender-necked giraffes with dark brown patterns browse among clumps of green trees; a herd of topis graze in a clearing; and a family of elephants drink from the river.

The balloon floats over the Mara River, where we spot dark brown lumps of hippos swimming in the coffee-coloured water. It's a little too early in the season for the annual wildebeest migration, where two million wildebeest charge into the Masai Mara. The wildebeest are followed by predators drawn to the area by the smorgasbord of prey. This spectacle makes Kenya one of the world's best wildlife destinations.

Back on the ground, the chefs prepare a hearty cooked bush breakfast which we wash down with champagne. Then we pile into a 4WD and head off on a bone-rattling drive across the plains. The camp's tariff includes three game drives a day. Each safari is different from the last; cheetahs one day and hyenas the next; one time we follow a mother hippo and its baby.

There are zebras, gazelles, giraffes, elephants, buffaloes and baboons. But the most impressive sightings are of the lions: two regal males sitting high on grassy termite mounds and a pride of females sleeping contentedly as their cubs suckle.

Back at camp, lunch is served in a grassy clearing with views of a swamp and a changing kaleidoscope of wildlife. A warthog grazes next to my table while I consume my spinach soup; a herd of elephants moseys through the swamp as I work my way through the buffet; and a giraffe browses the treetops, munching on leaves with as much enthusiasm as I have for my creme brulee.

The camp's history
Governor's Camp established their first luxury safari camp 30 years ago on a site once reserved for Kenya's colonial governors. Now there are three camps - main Governor's Camp, the boutique Little Governor's Camp and up-market camp Il Moran.

The group has a close relationship with the area's original inhabitants, the Maasai, and built the first biogas project at a Maasai manyatta (village) providing them with methane gas, generated from cow dung, with which to cook.

One evening, a group of Maasai entertain us with traditional dancing, singing and jumping. Their rich harmonies are a contrast to the discordant sounds of the hippos.

On my final morning, I step out of my tent just as dawn begins to break. There's a hippo grazing right next to my tent, just a few lengths from where I'ms tanding. I jump out of my skin and the equally startled hippo runs behind the adjacent tent. My heart thumps as I consider sprinting across the lawn to the next tent for a better look but the hippo bolts into the swamp.

Keep in mind when visiting Kenya that the best time to see lots of wildlife is during the migration from July to October, and a valid yellow fever certificate is required upon returning to Australia.

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The writer was a guest of Kenya Tourist Board.