East Africa

As cute as our little banda was, we realised the spider population greatly out numbered us, about 200 to 2. No mosquito nets because according to our friend Tom, there are no mosquitos in Sipi. So we took the one bunk bed in the room and set up our hammock tent over the bottom bunk acting as a net. Perfect! Not too spacious, but considering we weren't hanging in the hammock, but laying against the bed, it was so much more spacious then our last night in the tent. We just needed to cuddle a little, darn.

Up bright and early for our hike that should have started for 7am. We had our complimentary tea and bananas. Then waited. 730am off we go! Tom had woken late. No biggy. Grab a Rolex for the road and we walk. What was said to be 3-4 hours turned out to be a 2.5 hour, beautiful walk to 3 different waterfalls. We walked through crops and gardens. We got to walk up to the second waterfall which blessed us with its splashes, refreshing us for the second half of the walk. Even though it really wasn't that warm yet at 9am... There was a little cave behind it where Tom said he sometimes does picnics or camping with a fire. Sounds wonderful.

We were back from our walk around 1020am ish... An easy stroll, not so much a hike. Grabbed our bags and by the time we were back on the main road Tom had stopped a pickup truck filled with plantains and Ugandans to take us to the border! So far, Tom has been really welcoming, nice guy, negotiated the price of the hike a little for us, made sure his staff at the camp site were taking good care of us... Great! They lit a fire under the water tank to give us a warm shower, tea was ready for us right on time in the morning... He was getting a great review on TripAdvisor! That is until he told us, and told the truck driver, it was 20,000USh each for the ride to the border. Now Jack and I have been here for a bit, we're not the easiest to rip off... That's a ton of money considering it cost us 14,000USh total for both of us to get to Sipi the day before... So I quickly pointed out that it was expensive, but at this point we're already comfortably sitting on our respective metal bars, so we left it at that. Along the way, a fellow passenger confirmed it was 10,000USh each, not 20, half the price. Oh Tom, you were doing so good!

One person had said the ride was 3 hours, the people on the truck said it was 4 hours, so 5 hours later we reach the border! The first hour I was sitting on the side bars of the truck, holding on to keep me from rocking backwards off the truck. That was a tough hour, especially considering the ridiculously deep pot holes along this wonderful red dirt road. Wind blowing strong, so I wasn't too hot. I could feel my skin burning by the second but not much I can do about it when sitting on bags of plantain; except of course hoping the layer of sand on my skin would eventually be thick enough to act as a screen from the sun. Jack was better prepared, she had her Buff and sarong handy to cover up from the sand and sun. I eventually got a seat off the bars and onto the produce which was a little vacation for my bum. The scenery was gorgeous along the way. I actually preferred my 5 hour uncomfortable truck ride to my short yet terrible minibus ride from the day before.

Arriving at the border, the "conductor" (yes, there was a guy in charge of taking the money from the passengers that got on and off the truck along the way) offered to have us follow him to the border, he said he could direct us. But Jack and I have these walking borders down tight now, so we handed the 20,000 total and walked away. He of course complained, seemed angry, to which we decided to pretend there was a misunderstanding and we thought Tom said 20,000 total. We obviously pointed out that everyone else was paying that price, so while he kept complaining we walked away. It's interesting how when we pay the same price as everyone else, they act and look like we just screwed them out of money when really they were the ones attempting to do the same to us. I guess we're not all equal after all.

Crossing the border was, as usual, uneventful yet hilarious. We walked up the road, which was eventually "blocked" by a hanging chain. To the right of the chain was a sign telling us to report our departure with immigration. We went to get our exit stamps. Walked maybe 3 minutes on the other side of this high security chain, and got to the Kenyan immigration office. Along the way was one guard who barely looked at us. At least at the other borders someone looked in our bags. This guy barely set eyes on us. The border is called Suam River due to, yes, the river it crosses. There were children swimming along this river, so I wondered, Ugandans or Kenyans? The immigration officer was reading his newspaper when we arrived for our stamp. He had to stand from his chair on the deck outside to come in for our finger prints and picture. And that's it! The hardest part was counting how many days we had spent in Uganda since we had broken it up with Rwanda...

1.5 hours on a matatu and we're in Kitale. The road was dirt for half of it, and the mini, mini towns along the way were made of wooden structures. Not plaster and cement like most town centres in Uganda. The kids and some adults had more torn and dirtier clothing... Within just our first hour and a half we had the sense Kenya was poorer... We had to keep in mind, we're in the North, where probably not too many resources reach since most larger cities, and therefore tourists, stay more south.

For the sake of staying positive, I won't go too much into details about Kitale. To be fully honest, at this very minute that I'm writing this blog, I want to go back to Uganda. So far, the people aren't as warm, they're a little rougher, the boda drivers line the streets ALL of them yelling different things at us, the English is a little worse... And usually the language isn't an issue, I wouldn't judge a country or it's people with their amount of spoken English. But here, we've had people try to answer our questions or "helps us" (get business from us) yet leading us so far in the wrong direction because of their English... We spent 2 hours NOT organizing a hike for Jack, we've had multiple menu items be "not available", then available, then something different is served, we waited 25 minutes for a Wi-Fi password that never got checked, then 45 minutes waiting at a bank for nothing really since the ticket number wasn't getting called...

Sorry! I said positive! I actually like the town. It's got tons of little markets. Clothing lining the streets. Fruits everywhere. Large supermarkets where I can find all the ice-cream that I want... There's a busy downtown and calmer surroundings. It's cool. And I have to keep reminding myself that this was just a rough start to what could be a great country. Fresh start tomorrow. I'll have plenty of time to "reset" in our 8.5 hour long bus ride up to Lake Turkana. That is if the bus leaves at 10am... The man selling the bus tickets assures me the bus will leave on time, even though we bought the tickets at 2pm when their 10am bus was currently leaving... And he asked for our cellphone number to "let us know when the bus is ready tomorrow"... Yet guarantees it will leave at 10am and didn't understand why he shouldn't need our phone number if the bus was to actually leave on time... Wish me luck. No, wish me patience!Leer más