Sunday 15 June 2008
Monday 9 June 2008
The end is nie as the next destination sets
Chris and Georgie spent months planning a party here for us and other 
locals they knew. It was a great shindig on a beautiful island with a dance floor overlooking the Nile. I think what happens on Hair Lemon Island, stays on Hairy Lemon Island. And that is all I have to say on this matter.
The next day brought us to the end of our trip with a jaded head and a rock pool to bring us slowly to recovery. We drove back our lodge situated on the banks of the Nile for our final evening.
I feel I only touched on Uganda and there is so much more to see; on arrival there wasn’t any culture shock for me, it’s such a colourful place and the people we met were so welcoming. I loved every minute of it and several things stood out above the gorillas and the horses and the rafting. The friends I was travelling with made this trip for me and I have so many wonderful memories that will stay forever – jumping off the diving boards(cari, you made my day), the dancing in the truck, the wondrous way I was woken every morning by Les, who seemed to do so as if we had been talking for hours, the bugs, saving Les from he bugs – quietly, secretly and the stars – oh my word the stars on the last night, I have never seen anything so flawless in my life.
And so the end. Or not the end, but the start, of a ‘new chapter’ and a new destination. Asia.
May the sprit of travel never be subdued.
locals they knew. It was a great shindig on a beautiful island with a dance floor overlooking the Nile. I think what happens on Hair Lemon Island, stays on Hairy Lemon Island. And that is all I have to say on this matter.The next day brought us to the end of our trip with a jaded head and a rock pool to bring us slowly to recovery. We drove back our lodge situated on the banks of the Nile for our final evening.
I feel I only touched on Uganda and there is so much more to see; on arrival there wasn’t any culture shock for me, it’s such a colourful place and the people we met were so welcoming. I loved every minute of it and several things stood out above the gorillas and the horses and the rafting. The friends I was travelling with made this trip for me and I have so many wonderful memories that will stay forever – jumping off the diving boards(cari, you made my day), the dancing in the truck, the wondrous way I was woken every morning by Les, who seemed to do so as if we had been talking for hours, the bugs, saving Les from he bugs – quietly, secretly and the stars – oh my word the stars on the last night, I have never seen anything so flawless in my life.
And so the end. Or not the end, but the start, of a ‘new chapter’ and a new destination. Asia.
May the sprit of travel never be subdued.
Sunday 8 June 2008
'Hairy aquatic terror takes none'
Miraculously I didn’t hurt or ache the next day, which was lucky because I had an exhausting morning shopping for chairs, ebony goblets and candle sticks. This is the first time I have thought about home since the start on this trip, somehow I have managed to remove myself completely from my world back in London - something which has done me the world of good.
After our mammoth shopping trip we headed back to the Heaven – a tranquil lodge on the banks of the Nile over looking the rapids, which we were to throw ourselves down in a 9 person inflatable raft. We had a briefing from ozzy, adrenaline junky Rubens who looked like he’d been plucked from the bush and popped into a wet suit. We jumped in and paddled off with Rich left on the bank taking his amazing wide angled photos of our group donning hard hats and life vests.
We turned a corner on the calm flowing banks of the Nile to look down at our first rapid and see carnage. To me it looked like a 20 foot, vertical drop into a waterfall that I couldn’t deduce how we would arrive safely at the other end. When Rubens asked if we were all up for it, there was a resounding YES! The excitement was too much to give up and have to walk over the safe path to the other side. There were canoes and rafts everywhere on the other side. Rubens gave us our instructions; we were to paddle as hard as we could – go in left and then turn hard right so we would avoid the massive flat rock, sticking out in the middle of the water, that we should not under any circumstances go near. Off we went, not left, not right, but straight ahead and so hard that we paddled right up on top of the rock, mounted it and slid to the end so we where half-hanging over the edge of the waterfall unable to move. I think Rubens might have wet his pants a little at this point, we will never know. He quickly formed some kind of rescue plan, by getting one of the rafts below to paddle to the edges of the rocks and us to slide down the slippery rock face on bottoms to the safety of their raft. He then backed up our raft, got it to the safety of the dry land pass and back in to the water where he picked us up again. I could not stop laughing, how we managed to get into this predicament escaped me, Rubens was also at a loss for words – it had never happened before.
We carried on - not with the extremes of the first waterfall, but did have some pretty vigorous rapids to get through and in-between we discussed the diseases, bugs and infections you get from the Nile. 5 minutes later we jumped in for a swim. I’VE SWUM IN THE NILE. I wonder if the same excitement is achieved by foreigners if they swim in the Thames? It was a 'mega' swim, one of the best, mostly because my life vest aided me in zooming along and splashing. We paddled along until we saw our final destination insight – Hairy Lemon Island.
After our mammoth shopping trip we headed back to the Heaven – a tranquil lodge on the banks of the Nile over looking the rapids, which we were to throw ourselves down in a 9 person inflatable raft. We had a briefing from ozzy, adrenaline junky Rubens who looked like he’d been plucked from the bush and popped into a wet suit. We jumped in and paddled off with Rich left on the bank taking his amazing wide angled photos of our group donning hard hats and life vests.We turned a corner on the calm flowing banks of the Nile to look down at our first rapid and see carnage. To me it looked like a 20 foot, vertical drop into a waterfall that I couldn’t deduce how we would arrive safely at the other end. When Rubens asked if we were all up for it, there was a resounding YES! The excitement was too much to give up and have to walk over the safe path to the other side. There were canoes and rafts everywhere on the other side. Rubens gave us our instructions; we were to paddle as hard as we could – go in left and then turn hard right so we would avoid the massive flat rock, sticking out in the middle of the water, that we should not under any circumstances go near. Off we went, not left, not right, but straight ahead and so hard that we paddled right up on top of the rock, mounted it and slid to the end so we where half-hanging over the edge of the waterfall unable to move. I think Rubens might have wet his pants a little at this point, we will never know. He quickly formed some kind of rescue plan, by getting one of the rafts below to paddle to the edges of the rocks and us to slide down the slippery rock face on bottoms to the safety of their raft. He then backed up our raft, got it to the safety of the dry land pass and back in to the water where he picked us up again. I could not stop laughing, how we managed to get into this predicament escaped me, Rubens was also at a loss for words – it had never happened before.
We carried on - not with the extremes of the first waterfall, but did have some pretty vigorous rapids to get through and in-between we discussed the diseases, bugs and infections you get from the Nile. 5 minutes later we jumped in for a swim. I’VE SWUM IN THE NILE. I wonder if the same excitement is achieved by foreigners if they swim in the Thames? It was a 'mega' swim, one of the best, mostly because my life vest aided me in zooming along and splashing. We paddled along until we saw our final destination insight – Hairy Lemon Island.
Monday 2 June 2008
Back in the saddle again
…back on the truck - 3 scrabble rounds, 20 ‘Shit Head’ games and numerous conversations later takes us though the Queen Elizabeth National park where we all sit out on the roof in the 
blazing sun seeking out lions and giraffes – we see neither, but do spot elephants, a million cob and some water buffalo. Les, Suzy and Cari seem to be my continuos seat companions on the truck. Its lovely hanging out with Les again, we haven’t spent time together for an age and have both changed so much in that period. Getting to know Suzy and her amazing organisational skills is hugely entertaining, they are second to none, superior to all - I stand in amazement most of the time and also Cari who I could talk to forever and seems to have a calming and gracious wisdom about the group.
A drunken camping night follows, with a wonderful African beef stew
cooked by Trorunda who Georgie and Chris are training up to become a guide and has some interesting tales to tell. Another afternoon on the truck playing cards and scrabble, a boat ride around the Kazinga channel where we see the hilarity of hippos chasing each other... up-hill - brilliant, crocs lazing around waiting for prey and herds of elephants. This brings us towards the very beautiful Mihingo Lodge where I met Nat and TG who would be taking me riding in Jinga.
There was absolutely nothing that could have prepared me for a ride in the wild, high up, along the banks of the Nile through villages of children who ran out screaming ‘HELLO’ at us, yes screaming… whilst we were on horseback. I mount my horse Miwhimbi and Georgie (who’s been riding for 20 years) tells me, ‘you have a good saddle’, I am secretly chuffed in the hope that she means I’m sitting with correct posture.
Off we go, Miwhimbi is trouble, he hasn’t been out for 3 days on a full ride and has too much energy for me to handle, he quickly senses this and starts doing what he wants – stopping to chew on crops, pulling his head down so I cant keep hold of the rein and then just as we turn a corner he bucks his back legs up in the hope of dismantling me. He nearly succeeds, I’m thrown just over his left shoulder and manage to grab the saddle, pull the reins up to prevent him from throwing his neck further down and me off on to the hard, dry, orange dirt which feels like a long way down. I am at this moment full of fear at what is happening, this doesn’t happen in the placid confines of the Trent Park Riding School. Ash, who has been riding for years stops behind me and fills me with confidence in how I handled the whole situation, at the same time I sense that this is a normal occurrence for an open ride.
We carry on riding high up along the banks of the Nile.
The views are spectacular and we continue changing gait from walk to trot to walk. Nat then turns to me with a smile and asks if I’m ready for a canter, ‘Absolutely’ I reply. This is one of the most peculiar feelings I have experienced on horseback, I was all over the place and can only imagine I looked like a rag doll being bounced with exertion from side to side and up and down, I barely stayed on and think it only shear determination not to crash to the ground and break something which kept me so. We cantered for 2 minutes - most of which I spent repeating the word ‘fuck’ over and over again with every bounce. When we stopped Nat turned to look at me as I quickly tried to regain composure in the hope that she hadn’t heard me swear for the entire duration.
I am amazed at how people stay on these creatures...really. I survive 2 more bucks, a ride through water, up and down a steep incline and 2 more canters.
By the end of the ride I feel exhilarated and truly amazed I am in one piece. It has given me so much confidence for riding when I get back to London. I have to say that Ash was outstanding in his reassurance, I’m not sure I would have carried on if it weren’t for him riding behind me, coaxing me on, buck after buck and seeing him jumping when we got back to the stables made my day.
blazing sun seeking out lions and giraffes – we see neither, but do spot elephants, a million cob and some water buffalo. Les, Suzy and Cari seem to be my continuos seat companions on the truck. Its lovely hanging out with Les again, we haven’t spent time together for an age and have both changed so much in that period. Getting to know Suzy and her amazing organisational skills is hugely entertaining, they are second to none, superior to all - I stand in amazement most of the time and also Cari who I could talk to forever and seems to have a calming and gracious wisdom about the group. A drunken camping night follows, with a wonderful African beef stew
cooked by Trorunda who Georgie and Chris are training up to become a guide and has some interesting tales to tell. Another afternoon on the truck playing cards and scrabble, a boat ride around the Kazinga channel where we see the hilarity of hippos chasing each other... up-hill - brilliant, crocs lazing around waiting for prey and herds of elephants. This brings us towards the very beautiful Mihingo Lodge where I met Nat and TG who would be taking me riding in Jinga.There was absolutely nothing that could have prepared me for a ride in the wild, high up, along the banks of the Nile through villages of children who ran out screaming ‘HELLO’ at us, yes screaming… whilst we were on horseback. I mount my horse Miwhimbi and Georgie (who’s been riding for 20 years) tells me, ‘you have a good saddle’, I am secretly chuffed in the hope that she means I’m sitting with correct posture.
Off we go, Miwhimbi is trouble, he hasn’t been out for 3 days on a full ride and has too much energy for me to handle, he quickly senses this and starts doing what he wants – stopping to chew on crops, pulling his head down so I cant keep hold of the rein and then just as we turn a corner he bucks his back legs up in the hope of dismantling me. He nearly succeeds, I’m thrown just over his left shoulder and manage to grab the saddle, pull the reins up to prevent him from throwing his neck further down and me off on to the hard, dry, orange dirt which feels like a long way down. I am at this moment full of fear at what is happening, this doesn’t happen in the placid confines of the Trent Park Riding School. Ash, who has been riding for years stops behind me and fills me with confidence in how I handled the whole situation, at the same time I sense that this is a normal occurrence for an open ride.We carry on riding high up along the banks of the Nile.
The views are spectacular and we continue changing gait from walk to trot to walk. Nat then turns to me with a smile and asks if I’m ready for a canter, ‘Absolutely’ I reply. This is one of the most peculiar feelings I have experienced on horseback, I was all over the place and can only imagine I looked like a rag doll being bounced with exertion from side to side and up and down, I barely stayed on and think it only shear determination not to crash to the ground and break something which kept me so. We cantered for 2 minutes - most of which I spent repeating the word ‘fuck’ over and over again with every bounce. When we stopped Nat turned to look at me as I quickly tried to regain composure in the hope that she hadn’t heard me swear for the entire duration. I am amazed at how people stay on these creatures...really. I survive 2 more bucks, a ride through water, up and down a steep incline and 2 more canters.
By the end of the ride I feel exhilarated and truly amazed I am in one piece. It has given me so much confidence for riding when I get back to London. I have to say that Ash was outstanding in his reassurance, I’m not sure I would have carried on if it weren’t for him riding behind me, coaxing me on, buck after buck and seeing him jumping when we got back to the stables made my day.
Friday 30 May 2008
One step at a time, especially in toffee mud
Talking to people who have travelled to other countries in Africa provokes an interesting reaction. Many say that due to the years of dictatorship and brutality that the Ugandan people are the friendliest and most trustworthy in the continent. I felt immediately at home in Uganda which surprised me because most of my travels have been spent in Buddhist areas of South East Asia. I think subconsciously I expected to pick up on an aggression or feel unsafe; a naivety on my behalf, especially when quite the opposite was apparent. There was such a welcoming atmosphere when walking through a local village with Jeni who was also on our trip and Jonno who is staying in Jinga for a few weeks before his graduation. We wandered up to towards Soft Power
- a charity set-up to develop and improve primary school educational facilities in Jinja. Bob (who has been on the charity run in Jinja for a number of years) and Georgie walked us through a long winding orange dirt track with homes made of brick, mud and straw set back from the track amongst plantations of avocado, aubergine, vanilla, potatoes, beans, chillies and 
exotic fruits. 
Children started to follow us and eventually found the courage to run up, hold our hands and walk us towards the education centre where we took their photos and they stare back at them with fascination.
The education centre is set-up so the children can experience a variety of lessons and activities. They learn about AIDS and malaria prevention, how to use a computer, sow, make clay pottery and are given mosquito nets. Even the simple things that we take for granted - power, climbing stairs, watching a movie and looking in a mirror are an experience. It's incredible how vital education is in Africa, there are so many myths about health and cures and religion. People still go to witch doctors and refuse to use the medicines from professional Doctors for fear of being outcast or dying. As we walk back through the village 
Bob and Georgie tell us stories about the locals. There is an astonishing amount of gossip – its hilarious. People fighting over goats, land, who’s doing more to be successful, who’s got the better home or an extra cow. I'm visualising making a programme about them all and calling it ‘NileEnders’
We head towards the end of the village and child runs up to Bob to say hello, followed by his father - Isaac, who welcomes us all in to his home.
The 5 of us squeeze in to a small room with a dirt floor and immediately look towards a table near the window. There sits a large ghetto blaster radio with the most colossal wire aerial that evolves from the middle and crawls towards the ceiling like a giant spiders web – it looks like something that should be in the Tate modern. I wonder how Issac speaks such perfect Queen's English until he tells us he loves the World Service and listens everyday at 1600. I've spent a couple of weeks working at the World Service, watching and listening to broadcasts going out in all languages from tiny rooms in Bush House, London and when there I always wandered where it would reach, what kind of environment it would be in and who would be listening. And now I know. When Georgie tells Isaac I work for the BBC he gives a big smile and we have our photo taken together. I tell him I’m going to show his picture to everyone at Bush House back home and have a massively proud moment in my heart. I loved meeting Isaac. 
Bob you’re right, it’s the little things.
- a charity set-up to develop and improve primary school educational facilities in Jinja. Bob (who has been on the charity run in Jinja for a number of years) and Georgie walked us through a long winding orange dirt track with homes made of brick, mud and straw set back from the track amongst plantations of avocado, aubergine, vanilla, potatoes, beans, chillies and 
exotic fruits. 
Children started to follow us and eventually found the courage to run up, hold our hands and walk us towards the education centre where we took their photos and they stare back at them with fascination.
The education centre is set-up so the children can experience a variety of lessons and activities. They learn about AIDS and malaria prevention, how to use a computer, sow, make clay pottery and are given mosquito nets. Even the simple things that we take for granted - power, climbing stairs, watching a movie and looking in a mirror are an experience. It's incredible how vital education is in Africa, there are so many myths about health and cures and religion. People still go to witch doctors and refuse to use the medicines from professional Doctors for fear of being outcast or dying. As we walk back through the village 
Bob and Georgie tell us stories about the locals. There is an astonishing amount of gossip – its hilarious. People fighting over goats, land, who’s doing more to be successful, who’s got the better home or an extra cow. I'm visualising making a programme about them all and calling it ‘NileEnders’We head towards the end of the village and child runs up to Bob to say hello, followed by his father - Isaac, who welcomes us all in to his home.
The 5 of us squeeze in to a small room with a dirt floor and immediately look towards a table near the window. There sits a large ghetto blaster radio with the most colossal wire aerial that evolves from the middle and crawls towards the ceiling like a giant spiders web – it looks like something that should be in the Tate modern. I wonder how Issac speaks such perfect Queen's English until he tells us he loves the World Service and listens everyday at 1600. I've spent a couple of weeks working at the World Service, watching and listening to broadcasts going out in all languages from tiny rooms in Bush House, London and when there I always wandered where it would reach, what kind of environment it would be in and who would be listening. And now I know. When Georgie tells Isaac I work for the BBC he gives a big smile and we have our photo taken together. I tell him I’m going to show his picture to everyone at Bush House back home and have a massively proud moment in my heart. I loved meeting Isaac. 
Bob you’re right, it’s the little things.
Wednesday 28 May 2008
just like a Gloria, I will survive
In my wildest dreams I never expected a trip to Uganda would involve being charged by a silverback gorilla, bolted 3 times from a lunatic horse and getting stuck high up on a rock, hanging over the edge of a water fall, in a raft, amidst a grade 5 rapid.
This is not where my story begins. After leaving my house 6 times, making a gallant effort to be upgraded and narrowly avoiding a visit to the local hospital on touch down, I arrived in Uganda at the Entebbe Guest House where I sat in a beautiful garden eating my first truly Ugandan breakfast of marmite on toast with fellow travellers. It was lovely to have an afternoon and evening getting to know everyone before Georgie and Chris were to take us off, in to the unknown on a great big red and blue Mercedes truck.
I hadn’t planned to go gorilla trekking, but after hearing Georgie regale everyone with what they would experience I felt it was something that could turn out to be the most amazing part of the trip. Chris managed to pull some strings, jump through some hoops and yank a bunny from a hat to get me a permit in to the jungle so I could trek with everyone else. We had a briefing early morning on the gorillas we would be tracking – the Habinyanja family, the largest group in the jungle, it could take 30 minutes or 3 hours+ to find them.
The terrain was a giant mountain that ascended in to the Congo along tracks, streams and lush green vegetation. I was helped along by Moses who had a big smile and laughed at my unusual head attire.
We climbed up through narrow, steep pathways with vegetation shading us from the sun. After the first hour our guide David turned and said to me, ‘Lindsey have you spent much time in Kampala?’, to which I replied ‘no, none at all, why?’, he retorted with a grin ‘well, in Kampala they have a lot of alcohol and whenever Moses helps you, you say to him in Ugandan ‘Wayaballi monegei’ which means ‘thank you alcohol’. My eagerness to learn Ugandan faded somewhat after this.
Our trackers were 2 hours ahead and hadn’t seen any sign of the family we were searching for, we carried on for so long that we reached the summit and began our descent into the middle of the jungle, the views were amazing, the whole area descended in to layers of varying trees with mist rising through them. We carried on walking and talking for another 2 hours until I looked back to say something to Les and Cari who had fallen suddenly silent with eyes staring in another direction, this gave me a massive tingle all down my spine and I turned to see Malaya (a boy gorilla with a girls name) sitting placidly amongst a lush green foliage, tearing leaves and roots from the trees above, stripping it down and chewing in the most nonchalant manner.
The first thing I thought was, fuck, that’s what I look like….. haaaaa, the second, despite this being the world's largest primate, it just looks like a gentle giant with short legs, long muscular arms, a wide chest and incredibly large head. I could never imagine anyone standing here refuting the theories of evolution.
We moved on quickly to find the rest of the band and quickly stumbled on silverback Makara. I only managed a glimpse for a few seconds of the most enormous head, massive body and silverback before Makara decided to charge at us. There was a seismic reverberating and grunting roar that came as he charged across the forest floor on his knuckles with speed. The second this happened we fell to the ground and turned our eyes away – just as we had been briefed, and in the last second he turned and thumped in the other direction. I will never forget how much fear and excitement I felt at this very point - as this 1/4 tonne, black hairy creature came running towards us, knowing full well that he could extinguish us all with a few heavy sweeps, it was exhilarating - I also nearly wet my pants.
This whole day was brilliant in so many ways – the beautiful Buhoma lodge high up in the densely covered hills over looking the jungle, seeing Georgie’s smiley face as we all turned the corner back in to the lodge at the end of the day, getting to know lovely hypnotherapist Cari along the trek and the bath – the best bath I have ever had (I wish I could show the photos) and an awesome meal in the evening over numerous G’n’T’s, then back to the lodge to wash some underwear.
This is not where my story begins. After leaving my house 6 times, making a gallant effort to be upgraded and narrowly avoiding a visit to the local hospital on touch down, I arrived in Uganda at the Entebbe Guest House where I sat in a beautiful garden eating my first truly Ugandan breakfast of marmite on toast with fellow travellers. It was lovely to have an afternoon and evening getting to know everyone before Georgie and Chris were to take us off, in to the unknown on a great big red and blue Mercedes truck.
I hadn’t planned to go gorilla trekking, but after hearing Georgie regale everyone with what they would experience I felt it was something that could turn out to be the most amazing part of the trip. Chris managed to pull some strings, jump through some hoops and yank a bunny from a hat to get me a permit in to the jungle so I could trek with everyone else. We had a briefing early morning on the gorillas we would be tracking – the Habinyanja family, the largest group in the jungle, it could take 30 minutes or 3 hours+ to find them.
The terrain was a giant mountain that ascended in to the Congo along tracks, streams and lush green vegetation. I was helped along by Moses who had a big smile and laughed at my unusual head attire.
We climbed up through narrow, steep pathways with vegetation shading us from the sun. After the first hour our guide David turned and said to me, ‘Lindsey have you spent much time in Kampala?’, to which I replied ‘no, none at all, why?’, he retorted with a grin ‘well, in Kampala they have a lot of alcohol and whenever Moses helps you, you say to him in Ugandan ‘Wayaballi monegei’ which means ‘thank you alcohol’. My eagerness to learn Ugandan faded somewhat after this.
Our trackers were 2 hours ahead and hadn’t seen any sign of the family we were searching for, we carried on for so long that we reached the summit and began our descent into the middle of the jungle, the views were amazing, the whole area descended in to layers of varying trees with mist rising through them. We carried on walking and talking for another 2 hours until I looked back to say something to Les and Cari who had fallen suddenly silent with eyes staring in another direction, this gave me a massive tingle all down my spine and I turned to see Malaya (a boy gorilla with a girls name) sitting placidly amongst a lush green foliage, tearing leaves and roots from the trees above, stripping it down and chewing in the most nonchalant manner.The first thing I thought was, fuck, that’s what I look like….. haaaaa, the second, despite this being the world's largest primate, it just looks like a gentle giant with short legs, long muscular arms, a wide chest and incredibly large head. I could never imagine anyone standing here refuting the theories of evolution.
We moved on quickly to find the rest of the band and quickly stumbled on silverback Makara. I only managed a glimpse for a few seconds of the most enormous head, massive body and silverback before Makara decided to charge at us. There was a seismic reverberating and grunting roar that came as he charged across the forest floor on his knuckles with speed. The second this happened we fell to the ground and turned our eyes away – just as we had been briefed, and in the last second he turned and thumped in the other direction. I will never forget how much fear and excitement I felt at this very point - as this 1/4 tonne, black hairy creature came running towards us, knowing full well that he could extinguish us all with a few heavy sweeps, it was exhilarating - I also nearly wet my pants.This whole day was brilliant in so many ways – the beautiful Buhoma lodge high up in the densely covered hills over looking the jungle, seeing Georgie’s smiley face as we all turned the corner back in to the lodge at the end of the day, getting to know lovely hypnotherapist Cari along the trek and the bath – the best bath I have ever had (I wish I could show the photos) and an awesome meal in the evening over numerous G’n’T’s, then back to the lodge to wash some underwear.
Going, going......
I may have been a tad over-ambitious thinking I would be able to update my blog whilst in Africa. There are a number of reasons for this 1. Connection is limited 2. Our trip was full-on and 3. I thoroughly enjoyed having no phone and internet connection for the entire duration; this made me feel completely removed from everything back home.
I have picked the most memorable moments of the trip to document, so I never forget and so anyone who indulges gets a sense of what Uganda is really about.
I have picked the most memorable moments of the trip to document, so I never forget and so anyone who indulges gets a sense of what Uganda is really about.
Sunday 11 May 2008
I'm wondering about places in far away lands
So this is the truck I will be bonding with over the next 2 weeks. I'm nearly ready, I'm nearly packed, I'm nearly off on an awfully big adventure.
I'm going to Uganda - on safari, by truck, by horse*, by foot and by boat. Traveling with 10 others - 9 of whom I met for the first time a month ago over some very fine African food. Here I was given my first taste of African wine, this will also be the last. I fly in to Entebbe, travel up to Kampala, and around to Jinga, with various activities along the way. I am so excited...*speechless*
I now intend to tear my flat apart looking for the brand new, brilliantly flashing head torch I purchased a month ago. Any ideas on where I might have carefully stored such an item would be greatly received. I WANT MY HEAD TOUCH BACK
*I've spent the last 3 months learning to horse ride and have become somewhat addicted. I did not appreciate how complex it could be and have even been studiously reading a book to further my search for equestrian perfection.
Weather report for London today: Hot and sunny, with mild westerly winds - perfect
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