Things you can add to a safari

You are collected from camp between 04:30 and 05:00 and driven to the launch site, where the balloon is inflated in the dark. Take-off is around 06:30, and the flight itself lasts 45 to 60 minutes — the pilot works the altitude, skimming the treetops for the wildlife and climbing for the scale of the thing.

Baskets are shared, usually 8 to 16 passengers. You land somewhere in the wilderness, drink the traditional glass of champagne, and are taken to a private site for a full bush breakfast laid on linen. It is the one activity on this list worth booking months ahead; peak-season flights sell out.

It is not flown during pregnancy, and the operators ask anyone with back, neck or heart trouble, or recent surgery, to speak to their doctor first.

A walking safari is slow on purpose. You stop for tracks, for dung, for a medicinal plant, for the ant lion and the leopard tortoise that nobody photographs from a vehicle — and you watch the big animals from a distance a guide chooses rather than one you drive up to.

You are never out there alone: an armed ranger and a trained naturalist walk with you, and the route avoids anything that needs avoiding. Expect two to four hours on uneven ground. Gentler nature walks in less predatory areas can take children from about four; anything in big-game country is eight and up. Wear neutral colours — khaki, olive, brown. Bright colours and white are discouraged for a reason.

The afternoon drive ends somewhere chosen rather than convenient — a kopje in the Serengeti, a bend of the Tarangire river, a ridge on the crater rim. Waiting there: safari chairs, a linen-covered table, a small fire and a bar, with biltong, nuts, samosas and canapés.

The classic is a gin and tonic, originally for the quinine. There is also South African wine, Tanzanian beer, cocktails and juice. Ask us in advance and the same setup does proposals, anniversaries and birthdays.

The road between the crater and the Serengeti runs past the most famous archaeological site in the world. This is where Louis and Mary Leakey worked for decades and where the 1.75-million-year-old "Zinjanthropus" came out of the ground, and the site museum on the rim is genuinely good — real fossils, Oldowan stone tools, and an explanation of how volcanic ash kept any of it.

It costs you an hour of a drive you are making anyway, and it changes the scale of the landscape you spend the next week in.

The only world-class zipline course on the northern circuit is built into the foothills of the Rift Valley escarpment at Mto wa Mbu — which every one of these itineraries drives through on the way to Manyara or the crater. You are kitted out at the village office, then taken on a 20-minute open-air ride through Maasailand to the course.

Four to five zips of different lengths link six platforms, and the last one is the long one, out over the valley. Guides are trained to international standards and the gear is theirs. It is not run during pregnancy.

Bikes, helmets and hydration packs are provided, and on longer routes a support vehicle stays near with cold water and a seat if you have had enough. The ground is a mix of red dirt, sandy village paths and the occasional stretch of tarmac.

You will not be cycling among lions, but in the buffer zones and the conservancies you ride within sight of zebra, giraffe and gazelle — and at eye level with everyone you pass, which is the real difference from a vehicle.

Wildlife reads a horse as another animal rather than as a threat, so giraffe, eland and antelope let you come far closer than they would a vehicle. The horses are chosen for temperament and stamina, helmets are provided and mandatory, and the guides are professional equestrians.

Beginners walk through the game corridors and look at the scenery. If you can ride, there are canters and gallops along old wildlife trails. Bring long trousers and closed shoes with a small heel, in neutral colours; the weight limit is for the horses’ sake, and multi-day rides are for intermediate riders and up, aged twelve and over.