Kasese District

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.Read more