African Adventure

September 2019 - March 2020
Overlanding from Nairobi to Namibia
  • 89footprints
  • 12countries
  • 185days
  • 299photos
  • 32videos
  • 24.4kkilometers
  • 1.0kkilometers
  • Day 14

    Mida Creek

    September 29, 2019 in Kenya ⋅ ☁️ 29 °C

    Heading north up the coast to Mida Creek. To get there, we get a matatu from Mombasa, in which a woman places her baby into Chris' arms, and tells him that the father is dead. There's always something interesting happening in a matatu.

    Mida Creek is deserted- we are the only ones staying there until a South African girl shows up. It's very much off-grid- there are very few lights and Chris is forced to eat some chapattis under phone-light as no-one is around to cook anything.

    The creek is nice, though- an expansive, mangrove-fringed body of water, cut into the coastline. We hire a guide to take us out on his canoe, and he paddles around, showing us all the weird and wonderful creatures. He points out mudskippers- fish with legs which is almost like evolution in the making. He tells us all about the many birds that inhabit the creek. He also paddles the canoe directly below the giant web of a golden orb spider, a huge yellow monstrosity that is uncomfortably close to our faces. We also watch the private boat belonging to the nearby luxury hotel- Hemingways. This boat is too big to do anything else but sit in the middle of the creek, and it can't navigate the mangrove channels and peer at their curious residents. Our guide tells us he'd much rather be in a small canoe with the mudskippers than on that big boat with their sundowners, and we can't help but agree.

    The next day, we head to the Crab Shack, a small seafood restaurant located in one of the mangrove forests. We've avoided motorbike taxis (boda-boda as they are called in Kenya) so far, just because KT is a bit scared of them, but now we have no choice but to hire the services of one. The guy who offers to take us to the Crab Shack from town walks us to a motorbike, which we soon suspect may not be his. As we're heading down a sandy side-street, he skids violently, veers off the road and we almost crash into a tree. A nearby group of children yell "Pole-Pole!" (Slowly-slowly!) at our embarrassed driver. As we arrive into the crab shack car-park, a stretch of deep sand, he engages the rear brake rather than the front one, sending us skidding again, almost into a group of revellers heading into the restaurant. We hurriedly get off the bike and push the fare into his hands and bid him (sincerely) safe travels.

    The Crab Shack is nice enough, with the sun setting over the mangrove forests, but it's nothing special. It's also slightly ruined by a raucous Italian family next to us who seem to be constantly yelling at each other. We try some palm-wine. It's made from the palm trees, and it must be an acquired taste- to us it tastes unfortunately like vomit.

    On the way back, we hire the services of a different boda-boda driver, who, en-route, introduces himself as "CRAZY JACKSON". And he is crazy. He frequently takes his hands off the handlebars, turns around to us and insists on talking about Liverpool. The motorbike would drift across the road until we're almost in a ditch, before he snatches at the handlebars and steers back into the road. We arrive at the guesthouse safely and watch Crazy Jackson ride off into the night with the sky illuminated by millions of stars.
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  • Day 16

    Lake Naivasha

    October 1, 2019 in Kenya ⋅ ☀️ 21 °C

    Before we left for Africa, we had been told about this amazing place in Kenya where you can camp on the shores of a hippo-infested lake. Obviously, we had to check it out, so now, we're on our way to Camp Carnelley's, on the southern side of Lake Naivasha.

    To get there, we need take a matatu from Nairobi, which first means getting to the bus station in the centre of the capital. And the traffic is like nothing we've ever seen before. There is basically an entire bus district devoted to matatus, with thousands upon thousands of the white minibusses, all emblazoned with different stickers and quotes. Some are obvious: "Made in Kenya"; some might refer to a football team- we saw an entire bus wrapped with the Tottenham team; some are a strange take on well known video games: "Call of Duty: Pillow Talk", whilst others are just inexplicable: "Laptop".

    Our Uber driver pushes his way through the traffic and finds us the relevant bus. And then disaster strikes. Navigating our way through the intense traffic, Chris foolishly tries to take a video of the pandemonium outside. As he's putting his phone away, a hand reaches in through the window, across Katie, and the phone is gone. Chris tries to look for the culprit, but they're already part of the crowd. In truth, this could have happened anywhere, and Chris is the first to admit that he shouldn't have had his phone out in a crowded bus station. It's still a bummer though.

    The rest of the journey proceeds without incident and we arrive to Naivasha. The camp is great- directly on the lake shore, with two hippos bobbing in the water. The bar area is particularly special- a big open plan area built out of huge wooden beams, bedecked with African prints.

    In the evening, the electric fence is erected to protect us from the hippos, and we hear them grunt throughout the night, just metres away from us. It's pretty exciting/nervewrecking.

    The next day we had planned to go to Hell's Gate, a nature reserve where it's possible to cycle around and see animals. Unfortunately for us, lions have been spotted, so it's no longer safe to cycle- instead you have to go in a vehicle. We pass, having just done the Maasai Mara. Instead, we head to a nearby crater lake. Inside an extinct volcano is a lake, and on that lake is a restaurant. We have a nice meal, made special by the fact that we're eating inside a volcano. And then the rains come. Big, African rains. It's our first big rain of the trip, and it's monumental. It feels that the entire sky is coming down, and we can't see across the lake, it's so thick. Once it stops, we walk up the rim to get good views of the lake, then head back.

    The roads have become almost impassable by the rains, and our driver is forced to perform a manoeuvre whereby half the car is in the deep puddles, and the other side is up on the embankments bordering the road. We feel like we're tilted 45 degrees to the left, and it gets us through to the other side.

    Heading back to camp, we see a giraffe casually walking down the road. It's amazing to see one just hanging about on the outskirts of a village rather than in a designated national park- it reminds you that these animals are part of the fabric of Africa rather than just residents of safari parks.

    We're slightly worried about the effect that the intense rains will have had on our tent and belongings, but we needn't have worried. Despite being only a couple of kilometres away, the camp was untouched by the rains. Our world-ending storm was focussed just on the crater lake.

    The following day, we're off to Uganda. We've booked a bus from the nearby city of Nakuru, and need to get another matatu to get there. One of the problems with minibus travel in Africa is that there are no timetables- the busses leave when they are full. On lesser-travelled routes, like this one, this trait can mean waits of hours, anxiously ticking down to our coach's departure time. Luckily, after a couple of hours, we are full and we hit the road. We make the coach with plenty of time to spare, and eat chips in the coach station until departure time.

    It's an overnight bus, and we quickly fall asleep. We are, however, awakened at around 2.30am by a sudden stop. Chris looks out of the front window and sees warped metal and glass directly in front of the bus. Katie awakens from her slumber to enquire: "what's going on?" "I think there's a crash in front of us", replies Chris. Upon that news, Katie drops back to sleep. Chris is too nervous to sleep, and watches on as, about 45 minutes later, the first ambulances show up. Other road traffic starts to go off road to navigate the crash site, but our bus doesn't- we assume that since we are directly behind the crash, the driver needs to give a statement. After around 3 hours or so, the crash is cleared and we can proceed. We later see on the news that, tragically, 13 people lost their lives in the crash, as a coach, much like ours, performed an overtake and collided head-on with an oncoming tractor. It's incredibly sad.
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  • Day 20

    Kampala and Entebbe

    October 5, 2019 in Uganda ⋅ ⛅ 24 °C

    After our scary night bus, narrowly missing a huge crash, we safely arrive in Kampala. First impressions? It's much better than Nairobi or Mombasa, but it's still a large sprawling metropolis. We're staying at Five Horsemen, which sits on a steep hillside overlooking an army barracks. The views of the city are great, since the city broadly sits around a bowl-shaped series of hills, which allows for panoramic views from the rooftop bar.

    We head to the royal compound in the heart of Kampala, notorious for its connections to Idi Amin. Our guide tells us the fascinating history of Kampala and Uganda, a story of kingdoms which united to form Uganda, then turned against each other by a succession of tyrannical leaders. The morbid centrepiece of the compound is an underground bunker, ostensibly built by Idi Amin for an arsenal, but turned into a torture chamber. Strangely, since this is still a palace for the Bugandan king, the workers and families still live around the torture chambers.

    After exploring Kampala for a couple of days, we head to the nearby town of Entebbe. To get there, we need to take a minibus. In Uganda, these are simply called taxis, and most of them leave from the Old Taxi Station downtown. We try to get a taxi there, but due to the hustle and bustle, we can't get close enough, so we have to navigate the remaining block on foot. As we get closer to the heart of the taxi station, the lines of minibusses get thicker and thicker. There are thousands of them, parked in this huge open space. At one point, we are forced to take our bags off and squeeze through the narrow gaps between vehicles. It's claustrophobic, and it's amazing how anyone knows which bus to get. Eventually, with some help, we find the right minibus and make the short trip to Entebbe.

    Which turns out to be quite a boring town. It's the site of the airport, so most people just stay here on their way to and from catching a plane. We walk through the National Botanical Gardens, made famous by being featured in one of the earlier Tarzan films. It's easy to understand why such a location was chosen - It's magnificently green with the famous vines found throughout different areas of the garden. We spend as much time as possible here watching a family of monkeys play and soaking up the sun while having a beer overlooking Lake Victoria.

    We then head to the only other attraction in town- a beach on Lake Victoria called "Aero Beach" after all the old planes that are displayed there. It's bizarre- big jumbo jets and fighter planes just parked up next to a beach. We try to walk in and around the planes, but giant orb spiders stand guard, preventing access.

    That afternoon, we head to ViaVia, a hostel on the outskirts of town. It's a dream hostel- built around a small pond which attracts birds and bats, and with fantastic food and drink. We regret not staying here, but resolve to stay at any ViaVia that we find in future.

    Before we leave Entebbe, we stop off for an egg wrap at the Rolex Guy. Rolexes are basically omelettes wrapped in chapattis, but are perhaps one of the best street foods we've ever had. The Rolex Guy makes gourmet ones, adding different cheese or vegetables, and they are stunningly good.
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  • Day 24

    Jinja- the source of the Nile

    October 9, 2019 in Uganda ⋅ ⛅ 27 °C

    Today, we're searching for the source of the mighty river Nile. Which, fortunately, has already been discovered, and is a short bus ride from Entebbe.

    The source of the Nile holds an evocative allure- the mysterious point in the heart of Africa that feeds the world's longest river (the Amazon has nothing on the Nile). Chris grew up reading a book which had a section on Africa, detailing the Nile river and the efforts to find the source of it, so it's incredible to come here and view it ourselves.

    It turns out that the source of the Nile is not really set in stone, but rather a hotly debated topic: Uganda, Rwanda and the DRC all claim to contain the real source of the Nile. However, as far as we're concerned, it's in Uganda, and it's here, next to a small town called Jinja.

    We're staying at a White Water Rafting company which is sat about the town itself. Jinja is famous for its rafting, but at over $100 per person per trip, it's a little above our budget. Instead, we hire out Stand Up Paddleboards, and head down to the river. We've never tried this before, but it's pretty easy- the boards are large and bouyant, so fortunately we don't fall in. And in no time, we're able to paddle around and explore the source of this mighty river. We navigate down the river for a while before turning back and heading around a small island. There are large birds everywhere, nesting in every nook and cranny, and it's times like this that we wish we had more knowledge about birds. As it is, we can barely tell a crow from a blackbird (we don't think there's an actual difference, let's be real).

    As we head back to shore, we see a long green snake SWIM across the surface of the water, gliding just a few inches past the front of our boards. It then jumps onto a low hanging branch and slithers up a tree, just below our campsite. We're happy that we've managed to figure out this Stand Up Paddleboarding lark, so that we're not falling into snake-infested waters which also contain Bilharzia (more on that frighteningly awful parasite in a later entry).

    We spend a couple of days here, lazing by the river and enjoying the amazing sunsets, before heading back to Kampala. We had planned to hop around Uganda by bus, but the bus networks don't seem as reliable as they were in Kenya. Instead, we decide to hire a cheap 4x4, so we head back to the capital to pick it up.

    The owner of the 4x4 rental agency is a bit of a strange chap, who insists on sending us indecipherable voicenotes over whatsapp, but we eventually sort out the exchange. We pick up the car without issue, and hit the road. We're a bit nervous about driving in Uganda, and with good reason. The traffic is unlike anything we're used to. Cars and Boda Bodas (motorcycle taxis) come from every direction, requiring constant 360 degree awareness in order to make it out of the city unscathed.

    We stop off at a shop to buy camping supplies, and buy a small cooker. It requires liquid kerosene to run, so Chris heads out to source some. At the petrol station, they tell him that they've run out, so to check the market instead. Chris heads deep into the market and eventually finds a kerosene seller, who asks if Chris has a bottle to fill up. He doesn't. Instead, the kerosene is poured into a plastic bag, reminiscent of those containing goldfish at funfairs, and hands it over. Holding a bag of highly flammable kerosene, Chris heads back to the car.

    We navigate out of the city, and hit the road.

    (A couple of weeks later, at the end of our road trip, we would head back into Kampala. The roads leading into the city are intensely busy, but fortunately, Google Maps has a trick up its sleeve. Rather than taking us into the line of traffic, it tells us to turn left into a construction site. Not realising our mistake until too late, we head down the unconstructed highway, which runs parallel to the kilometres-long line of traffic. At the end, we navigate between some construction barriers, and reach the front of the queue, feeling incredibly guilty.)
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  • Day 30

    Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary

    October 15, 2019 in Uganda ⋅ 🌧 22 °C

    Today we pick up our hire car and head north, to Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary. This is a huge nature reserve which acts as a shelter for the White Rhinoceros families that are being bred here. Through poaching, the Rhino population was wiped out in Uganda, but efforts are being made by organisations like Ziwa to reintroduce them to the wild.

    We planned to camp, but a huge storm is raging across Uganda, so we decide to stay nice and dry in a room. Still, it's a very basic room- a concrete cube with an exposed lightbulb and a broken bed, but we're here for Rhinos, not luxury.

    And Rhinos we get. The next morning we wake up early for a guided walk to see them. They don't like the heat, so the best time to see them is just after dawn. We head to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast, and are amazed to see a small Rhino family settled just next to the building. We're admiring them, when a large male crashes out of the bush and across the children's play area, lumbering between the swings and the slide. "Quickly! Get inside! That one is dangerous!!" cries the kitchen manager, so we run into the kitchen, safe behind fences.

    After breakfast, we report for the briefing with the rangers. The one in charge advises us "If a Rhino charges at you, jump up in a tree, but beware of leopards and snakes". We have no idea if he is joking or not.

    With a slight sense of trepidation, we walk out to see the Rhino family we watched at breakfast (the male has disappeared into the bush). From a safe distance, and always from behind cover, we watch them feed for a good long while. They're incredible animals- so prehistoric and clumsy that they look more like robots from Jurassic Park than genuine animals.

    As the sun comes up, the rhinos seek shade for a snooze, so we head back to HQ. As we come back, another group is gearing up to set off. We feel slightly bad that they will be just seeing sleeping rhinos, mostly hidden in the long grass.

    For lunch, we head to the next lodge over, which is for luxury travellers. They have a pool, and have allowed us to use it if we get lunch. And the food is amazing- pasta with pesto and fresh pineapple. Luxury travel does have its benefits.

    The next morning, we're up earlier still to track shoebills- one of Africa's most elusive birds, and Katie's favourite animal. We're up before dawn, so the Rhinos are still sleeping, and it just so happens that one of the families is sleeping right next to our car. It's important that we don't startle them, as they may be liable to charge, so the ranger directs us to sneak up to the car and quietly open the doors. We do so, and I even try to start the engine quietly, easing the key slowly in the ignition. It doesn't work, and when the engine roars into life, so do the Rhinos. I reverse cautiously but quickly and get out of there before a charge destroys our rental security deposit.

    We drive through the thick mud, quickly so that we don't get mired down, which takes some deft driving to avoid skidding off into the rivers which have formed on the sides of the tracks. Eventually, we arrive at the swamps, and, incredibly, we see not one, but four shoebills.

    They're freakish birds- 4 feet tall, with a beak half the size of it's body and sharp enough to cut fish in two. Their huge eyes peer at us while our guide explains how lucky we are- most guests see one bird if they're lucky, and we're watching four.

    We leave with a smile as big as one of those disgustingly large beaks.
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  • Day 31

    Lake Nkuruba

    October 16, 2019 in Uganda ⋅ ☁️ 16 °C

    Leaving Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary behind, we start a long drive across Uganda to the mountains. Specifically, we're heading to the Crater Lakes, which sit in the shadows of the Rwenzori Mountains. We predict a 5 hour drive, but it ends up being around 8. It turns out that, once the nice road from Kampala ends, we have to drive on a dirt road. Which has massive potholes. And has just been washed away by the huge rain storms. And we'll be on it for 100km. It's hard going, and mostly it's a case of just picking which pothole is the smallest and heading for that one, praying that it won't pop a tyre.

    At one point, we pass a group of guys trying to fix a particularly bad bit of road, clearing a path for a massive lorry. They're up to their knees in red mud, hacking away at the road with pickaxes and ferrying mud into the deep rivulets carved out by the heavy rains. As we pass, they gesture to us for money, for fixing the road. Chris feebly shrugs as we awkwardly drive through the group.

    After hours of the deepest "African massage" we've ever come across, we reach the crater lakes. Unfortunately, Google Maps is not on our side today, and it takes us through some tea plantations, with red dirt paths barely cutting through the rows of green tea bushes. A small child waves at us as we start a particularly hair-raising descent. Rather than the ubiquitous shout of "MZUNGU!", he says simply "bye-bye". It is quite ominous.

    Finally, after navigating the tea fields, we reach our campsite. And it is worth it. Three species of monkey bound around the trees and scamper across the ground. On one side of the campsite is a beautiful serene lake, surrounded by colonies of black-and-white colobus monkeys. To the other side, the hills drop away to reveal the Rwenzori mountains stretching across the entire horizon.

    We get talking to the only other people there- a Dutch couple called Bas and Vera. They've also hired a car, and have almost the exact same route as us. We would end up following them across most of Uganda.

    The next day, we head out on a walk with our guide from the lodge- Good. And I'm not describing the walk there: his name is Good. Which, I'm sure we can all agree, is a great name.

    We head to a waterfall, with Good telling us about everything and anything. We ask him about the chimpanzees. He tells us that when he was small, the chimps would be all around this area. He would be outside in the garden when a chimp would chase him, crying, back inside. Now, though, the apes are confined to a small national park just north of here. It's quite sad to hear. He does also tell us a story about a mother chimpanzee stealing a human baby when her offspring had died. The villagers had to hush the (human) parents' tears, or else the chimp would get so aggravated that she might tear the baby in two. On second thoughts, I'm glad that there are no chimps around.
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  • Day 31

    Kasenyi- Sleeping with the Hippos

    October 16, 2019 in Uganda ⋅ 🌧 23 °C

    Following in the tracks of our Dutch friends, we head to Queen Elizabeth National Park, which apparently is home to the only tree-climbing lions in the world. Unfortunately for us, the park entrance fee is 40 US Bucks each, with an additional fee for the cars. It's a bit too high for our backpacking budget. Fortunately for us, the National Park is criss-crossed by a road network, leading to little fishing villages.

    Kasenyi, one of these fishing villages, is our destination today. To get there, we head into the confines of the park and drive over roads which steadily, then rapidly, deteriorate in quality.

    Despite not being able to head into the depths of the park, we see baboons, tortoises and a herd of elephants near the road. Upon spotting the elephants, we pull over, turn the engine off and sit there, marvelling at these huge beasts. We are completely alone until two guys ride past on their bicycles. When they spot the herd of elephants right close to the road, they start cycling much faster. Maybe they respect the danger of these beasts more than us.

    After a driving on the trails for a while, with the Lion King soundtrack on the radio, we pull into Kasenyi. It's a charming little village plonked right in the middle of a national park, and we pull over for bananas and avocados. We then navigate the narrow dirt roads heading through the houses until we reach the lake. We spot an idyllic scene of children playing in the lake, the peacefulness of which is slightly shattered by herds of hippos sauntering just offshore. The fishermen and children seem entirely unfazed by the animals, which we've been told are the most dangerous creatures on earth.

    Driving a little further along the shores of the lake, we come to our campsite. It's little more than a bare patch of earth on the lake shore. That means no fences, no protection from the herds of hippo which we lose count of. It's slightly alarming, but a staff member comes along to introduce himself. He introduces himself as "the bushman" and informs us that he'll be our security for the night. Excusing himself, he sets off to build some fires for the evening.

    After coffee with Bas and Vera and a spot of tea (which is somewhat interrupted by a huge swarm of insects), we grab some beers from the nearby building and huddle around the fires.

    Hippos, it turns out, are scared of fires, and will keep their distance so long as the fires are lit. It's a little reassuring, but when we start to hear the powerful low grunts- "huh. huh. huh"- as the hippos come out of the water, it's hard not to feel a little worried. We hold our torches close, but we soon realise that ours are not so powerful, barely illuminating our small group. Bas and Vera, however, are suitably equipped and their powerful beams slice through the darkness, landing firmly on a nearby hippo. They're very much surrounding us.

    A little later, the bushman returns, with two other villagers. He tells us that they'll soon be joined by their wives, who suspect that, rather than heading out to protect some westerners from hippos, they're actually heading for a night on the lash. He entertains us with tales from the bush- dodging elephants and living like antelope- but his words start to slur. We begin to suspect that he is, alarmingly, quite drunk.

    We make our excuses and nervously head back to our tent and hunker down for the night, painfully aware that the only thing separating us from roaming hippos is our thin tent wall. During the night, we wake up desperately needing to pee, but we can still hear the grunts of the hippos surrounding us. We have no choice, and summon all of our courage to head to the toilet. We practically sprint, casting our weak torches at any and all shadows thrown up by the dying embers of the fires. It is probably the most terrifying toilet trip of our lives, but luckily, we manage to wee uninterrupted.
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  • Day 32

    Kisenyi

    October 17, 2019 in Uganda ⋅ ☁️ 25 °C

    We wake up safely, spared from the jaws of the marauding hippos. Today, we’re moving across the park to Lake Edward and staying at another fishing village- Kisenyi.

    We head slowly across the plains, eyes peeled for animals, but we don’t see much, and we arrive at Kisenyi in the late afternoon. Our campsite for the night turns out to be a construction site, with half-built lodges and toilets in the middle of a field. Our host, Peter, rapturously receives us. He’s a big guy, and with his powerful, booming voice he explains that the site is only half built because they ran out of money. They therefore only have three half-built rooms, a half-built reception/dining area, and a half-built toilet block. Our Dutch friend Bas questions the wisdom of half-building everything, rather than fully building one block at a time.

    Peter tells us that tonight they’ll build a big fire, and promises us that herds of elephants will visit, and we might even catch a glimpse of lions and cheetahs.

    We tell him that we want to head into the village for some food, and he insists on escorting us, even though the village is about 50 metres away. He leads us down a back alley to some plastic tables and chairs and asks a cook for some beans and chapati. It’s delicious, and we wolf it down. To be fair, we wouldn’t have found this place without Peter’s help. He then leads us to a fruit and veg shop, where we buy some oranges and fruit that we have never seen before or since. Peter then asks the shopkeeper for his orange, at which the old lady reluctantly hands him one. It’s a little like Peter imagines himself as a mafia boss, lording over the village. Finally, we grab some beers from a bottle shop. Unlike the rest of Uganda, where you are offered hot or cold beers, here they only have hot or slightly cooler. We opt for the slightly cooler ones, still wondering why hot beers are a thing in equatorial Uganda.

    At sunset, we head to the lake in an attempt to watch the hippos emerge onto land. We spot a group offshore, but they stay submerged until well after nightfall. We are joined however, by a gang of children- far more frightening than any herd of hippos. The ringleader, who must be about 12, puts on his deepest voice and ominously growls “Give me your money. You don’t want to give me your blood.”

    Despite their pleads for our money, cameras, sweets and shoes, we are able to enjoy the sun setting across the lake, behind the mountain range which lies in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.

    After tea, we settle around the fire, nervously awaiting the arrival of the promised menagerie of elephants, hippos, and cheetahs. Unfortunately, the most we get is distant grunts from hippos. Slightly disappointed, we bed down for the night.
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  • Day 33

    Enjojo

    October 18, 2019 in Uganda ⋅ 🌧 25 °C

    Today, we're heading further into Queen Elizabeth National Park. Before we go, it's time to pay Peter for the previous night's camping. We expect to pay 17,000 Ugandan Shillings, but he charges us 18,000. It's no big deal- 1000 shilling is about 25 Euro cents, so I add a tip on top to make it an even 20,000. As we pack away our tents, I speak to Bas who tells me that he was asked to pay 17,000, but gave 18,000 to include a tip. It seems that Peter might be inflating his prices. I feel slightly annoyed, but looking round at the dilapidated, half-built lodge, I figure they need all the help they can get.

    Onwards! Today we're heading to Enjojo Lodge, which comes highly recommended by the guide book. Being a western-owned lodge, the prices are much higher- whack an extra zero onto the Kisenyi price and you'll get close to what we paid. And that's for camping. Still, the lodge is nice, with a pleasant bar area overlooking a small section of the park with a waterhole a hundred metres away. Once again, we're promised elephants.

    Unfortunately, it turns out that we can't enjoy the bar, as they need to do renovations, so we're ushered away. We explain that we'd like to do our laundry- we're getting pretty smelly and this is a fancy place- and we're invited to the staff quarters, tucked away out of sight from the main lodge.

    After hanging up the laundry, it's time for us to make a big decision: to gorilla or not to gorilla. The main issue we have is our budget- we're on a $50 p/d backpacking budget, and the gorilla permits are $600. EACH. On the other hand, when else will we see gorillas? We're unlikely to return to Uganda, and even if we do, the permits increase in price every year. We decide to go for it, justifying it as a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

    Finding a number for the Ugandan Wildlife Authority, we call it. Honestly, we're expecting them to say that they've run out of permits, since the guidebooks all tell you to book months in advance. However, the man on the phone tells us that we can get permits! But- only in Kampala, about 2 days drive from here. We only have the car for a few more days, so it just isn't possible. Dejected, we take it as a sign that it's not meant to be, and opt against the gorillas.

    That evening, we settle down for a nice lodge meal. It always feels a bit decadent eating western food, especially since Ugandan food is generally good and cheap (Rolexes are still Chris' favourite food). But, sometimes it's nice to treat ourselves. We enjoy the meal, unlike an older Kiwi woman next to us. When the waiter comes to take away her mostly-untouched plate- he asks if everything was alright. She explains to him that she "wasn't particularly excited by it". We wince, and make an extra effort to tell the staff how mcuh we enjoyed our food.

    Our post-dinner drinks are cut short by a huge swarm of bugs that descends upon in an instant. From nowhere, the air turns thick with flying insects, so dense that it's impossible to bat them away from your face, as more will just take their place. It's taken as a queue for bedtime, and the staff call the guests' escorts in. They are Ugandan military, armed with AK-47s and dressed in camouflage. It's a little strange to be taken back to our tent by machine-gun-wielding soldiers, whilst trying to keep our mouths (and noses, and eyes, and ears) free of bugs.
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  • Day 34

    @ The River

    October 19, 2019 in Uganda ⋅ 🌧 19 °C

    It's our final day in Queen Elizabeth NP, but today we're not going so far- just across the road. We're staying at a lodge that Bas and Vera stayed at last night. They had checked yesterday and loved it so much that they texted us, telling us to come over and stay there. Unfortunately, we had received the message just after checking in at Enjojo, so had no choice but to promise them we'd join tomorrow.

    Since it's just across the road, we arrive early, and we're warmly- rapturously- received by the owners. Unfortunately, they explain, they have to head to the nearby city of Fort Portal. Their kids are there, watching the England Australia Rugby World Cup match with the expat community. They explain that they should have left a little earlier, but had a heavy night. So they're dashing between welcoming us, sending off the last guests, and packing up their stuff.

    At around 11, just before kick-off, they still haven't left, and Fort Portal is a good two-hour drive away. They insist that they can still make if they leave now, but they still don't leave. Instead, they crack open beers and invite us to join them. And so begins a day-long unplanned drinking session in the middle of the Ugandan bush.

    Across the day, they tell us stories about expat life in East Africa. She's Zimbabwean, and hes English, and they met in Kenya, at a club. They would play tennis before tucking into a Sunday roast with all the trimmings, and would reliably get terribly drunk.

    Later, Bas and Vera return from their game drive. They had an inauspicious start to the morning, with a burst tyre, but later managed to see the famous tree-climbing lions, which we're told again are the only ones in the world. We're slightly jealous, but remember the entrance fee to get into the park itself.

    Later still, we're joined by an Argentinian couple who cycled in. They had cycled across East-Africa, and had just been in Bwindi- the home of the gorillas. We ask them if they saw the gorillas, and of course they had. And did they say it was worth it? Of course. We begin to rue our decision not to get permits. Nevertheless, we jot down the name of a great lodge there, and decide to head over, if only to see the forest.
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