On the border of Rwanda and Uganda we found
ourselves in a place reminiscent of Lake Malawi; Lake Bunyonyi or “Place of
many little birds”. We resided in a geodome , an open air bungalow with the
front completely open to a big deck facing the lake. Here we spent lazy days
watching the birds flit in to visit us from the surrounding jungle and doing
little more than eat and read.
Since leaving Zanzibar we have covered a
lot of ground. Our first stop was the tiny hill village of Lushoto, where we
made the tragic mistake of buying cheese from the nuns of a neighbouring
covenant. Consequently the next few days were spent in agony, whimpering in bed
while my stomach twisted in pain, completely poisoned. Lesson learnt: DO NOT
eat dairy in Africa and NEVER trust a nun.
Another bone splintering bus trip north and
we found ourselves in Moshi, nestled at the foot of the cloud shrouded, snow
capped, mighty Kilimanjaro Mountain. Choosing to admire her form from afar,
over some relaxing beers, rather than pay the exorbitant $1500 climbing fee, we
made this our base for negotiating a safari into the Serengeti.
Having negotiated a very reasonable priced
safari with the highly recommended Karibu Adventures the three of us (
Juho, Helen and I)set off for the great Serengeti, via Lake Manyara and
Ngorogoro crater. If you dream of doing a safari, this is the place to do it,
these places are famous for a reason, all of the iconic African animals are
here and in vast numbers. To top it off the landscapes are stunning, and the
indigenous Maassai live and heard their cattle in the Ngorogoro conservation
area, alongside the zebras and giraffe. Clad in traditional cobalt blue and red
robes, carrying sticks, the Maassai live much the same as they always have,
moving their cattle across the plains and valleys in search of greener
pastures.
We bumped around the Serengetti , happily
snapping away at elephant clans , prides of lions, baby leopards, and an endless sea of migrating
wildebeest. At night hyenas whooped
outside our tent and buffalo snuffed at our door, munching on the grass around
our tent. Inside the Ngorogoro crater
thousands of pink flamingos covered the lake and baby hippos wallowed in the
mud with their mums. A majestic male lion ambled past our truck, before
settling into the grass beside us while frightened zebras stood erect, ready to
flee if he moved any closer.
In Arusha we farewelled our Canadian pal
and headed west for Mwanza, on the shores of Lake Victoria. From here we pushed
up north, resting for a day in the backwater port town of Bubuko, because Juho,
who had managed to evade the dreaded cheese poisoning, was struck down with a
stomach illness of his own. Despite its
small size, Buboko had more churches and mosques than any larger town we had
encountered. Groups of men, woman and children gathered in church gardens to
sing melodic hymns and the first rays of dawn were accompanied by the haunting
strains of a call to prayer.
Crossing the border into Uganda was an
excellent example of the frustrating inefficiency that reoccurs throughout East
Africa. After queuing for a considerable
amount of time, watching the fat officials inside idly flick through newspapers,
file their nails and sip their tea, an officer appeared to announce that
someone would now be appointed to record each passenger’s details on a
clipboard before admitting them into the immigration office. One by one
passengers were permitted to enter the building, to be interrogated, have their
fingerprints recorded and eventually their passport stamped: “Exit”, yes this
painstakingly long process was simply to allow us to leave Tanzania.
Inside Uganda the air feels fresher and
cooler and the bushy landscape gives way to green, rolling hills. After touring
around the lakes and hills we are spending our remaining Ugandan days in
Kampala, zipping about on motorcycle taxis and eating overpriced Indian food as
we are sick to death of the bland local food. Unfortunately President Idi Amin expelled
the Indian and Pakistani population of Uganda in 1972, leaving only a
smattering of these influences today, luckily for our taste buds this includes
garlic Nan and spicy chicken vindaloo.
