The Safari

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.