Gelli goes South-ish

Going through some old photos a few days ago just for the heck of it, I stumbled across this:

I had completely forgotten that I had taken it, and don't know why i did. But it turns out that the world in its constantly mysterious ways might have known what was coming and convinced me to do so. For this picture was taken at Kuomboka whilst I was chasing the Lozi king through the flood water around his Limulunga palace as he headed for his boat. And whilst in itself that may not be of any relevance, I am 98% certain that it was on this day and probably during this very chase that i managed to pick up the damned parasite which has since ruled my life.

And I just thought i would share it with you.

After years of people complaining that i didn't put up entries often enough, now people are complaining that i'm putting up too many. I just can't win. But in my defence, i've had a lot of free time on my hands in recent weeks and so have used some of it keep you all bored. When i resume my normal lethargic attempts at keeping up to date (eg: i don't), you can assume i am either healthy again and don't have the time, or that Hamish has won.

I spent 10nights in Kampala, but even now i'm not really sure why. Apart from the inevitable chores and recovery I didn't really seem to do anything. And as for achievement...? Erm... nope. Don't be silly. Though i wandered around town quite a bit, I didn't even make it to the Kasubi tombs, probably the biggest tourist 'attraction' in the city. Why? Erm... Again, I don't know. In fact my biggest impression of Kampala as a city is the fact that every 3rd person seemed to be wearing a security uniform of some description, and carrying a large gun.

Life pretty much revolved around the hostel, and certain patterns developed. I would have breakfast in the restaurant, sitting at the same small table where the same chicken would invariably come and join me in the chair opposite. After making a fair racket for the next while, it would lay an egg on the cushion, and then quietly wander off to amazed looks by recent arrivals. I would also engage in discussions about the obscene size of one of the hostel dogs, and the curious state of the goat who was very obviously pregnant despite the lack of, well, any other goats, leading to the slightly worrying conclusion that one backpacker who passed through was either extremely drunk or extremely desperate. Or both.

The old matatu park in Kampala. the new one is even bigger and messier (though without a nice place to look out over it and marvel at how anybody has the faintest idea of what is going on)

As it is now coming into tourist season – lots of students are suddenly filling up East Africa, bringing with them rising prices and swine flu amongst much else - I would also wonder at the constant stream of overland trucks coming through: Only one night was without any, whilst 2 or 3 a day were not uncommon and 5 arrived on one crazy day. It just seemed very strange that there were so many in Uganda, almost all fairly full, and especially as most of them are so cunningly designed that it's pretty much impossible to see anything out of them at all! And I also wondered at the sheer moronic-ness, ignorance and down right rudeness of the hoards of 18/19year olds who passed through at weekends. One night was so bad that – quite honestly – if i had had instant access to a machete or shotgun at around 4am, I would now be doing some serious time as a notorious mass-murderer. Why are these people let out, is what I want to know, let alone how are some these allegedly intelligent human beings (the horrific group in question were young American law students interning at the Rwanda War Crimes and genocide tribunal in Tanzania, for crying out loud).

I was curious as to exactly what changes at 6pm, but didn't stick around to find out

I had entertained vague plans of a few day trips as well, but the only one i undertook was to Entebbe, 35km away on Lake Victoria, home to Uganda's main airport and the former capital city. It was certainly pleasant enough, though it was a slightly odd place: there didn't seem to be anything even vaguely resembling a centre. We wandered for a couple of hours around it's main attraction, the Botanical gardens (where, local legend has it, some of the original Tarzan films were made, though it seems unlikely) which were certainly very pleasant and a relaxed way to spend a day, but it was more in the way of a grassy park with trees or even an arboretum than a garden. Of flowers, which I would have thought would be an integral part of any botanical garden, there were none. There were some monkeys and plenty of birds though, which seems a pretty decent trade off to me.

Some trees in the Entebbe Botanical gardens, and some boys standing on a submerged rockand fishing in Lake Victoria

Eventually I headed south. I didn't have much in the way of a plan, to be sure, but south was there, i hadn't seen it and i had some days. Besides, the Northern hemisphere was boring me again. And thus I ended up in Kabale near the Rwandan and Congolese borders in an area of beautiful landscapes and terraced hills that looks in places like England, Slovakia, St.Helena and China. Pretty much anywhere, in fact, that is not African. The town wasn't much, but the surroundings pleasant, and it had obviously been of importance in previous times judging by some of the large colonial villas dotted in the hills. The standards have degenerated though, as i, a grotty looking and dodgy sounding backpacker was greeted warmly at the White Horse Inn one afternoon, whereas in years gone by VS Naipul had been banned, and Paul Theroux kicked out.

I was pretty much as south as I could be and as I was sadly unable to visit the mountain gorillas – the price of permits is horrific, whilst shared genes means that anybody who is sick is not allowed to visit anyway – i figured I may as well keep going. The Rwandan border is just down the road, and it seems silly not to cross it.

A view of some of the terraces in the hills around Kabale

AS I bounced off the tarmac for the second time, everything suddenly went into slow motion.

Almost Hollywood style, in a way, and I became suddenly, unusually and acutely aware of my situation and I seemed to have hours or even days in which to ponder the future. Not that there was much to ponder: I was bouncing across a road, no longer on the boda-boda motorcycle taxi that I had been on less than a second earlier, and could see a metal pole rapidly approaching from one direction (absolutely typical – I somehow seem to be on a collision course with the only directional road sign in the whole of Uganda!) and a matatu bearing down on me from a different direction. And, of course, the tarmac also approaching me yet again. Pretty much all i had to ponder is what I would hit first (or, rather, second, as hitting the tarmac again first seemed a no-brainer). Oddly enough, the overriding thought I remember going through my head was “I don't care what he says, but i'm not f****** paying him after this!”

I'm not entirely sure what happened after that. The next thing I remember is being half wrapped round a pole trying to work out where I was, why I was there and what on earth had happened to my shoulder which was somewhat more painful than i remembered it being in the recent past and i'm sure hasn't always been at that angle. I then vaguely remembered having been on a boda-boda and almost in abstract wondered what had happened to it and the driver: Looking across the road I was suddenly aware of a crumpled lump of metal wrapped against a tree on fire. Hmmmm. This was probably not a good sign, and I concluded by thinking that i really DEFINITELY was not paying him now. Oddly, of the driver, there was no sign at all.

I was in Kampala, and for no specific reason except that after moaning about having to stay in Nairobi, I had managed to arrange with my Nairobi doctor to see one of his colleagues in Uganda as a once off, which gave me an entire 2weeks away from Nairobi. I had left pretty much as soon as possible on the first departure to anywhere I hadn't already been. Still lying on the floor in pain and a pool of blood - still wet, but both amazingly and scarily, it seemed not to be mine - I wryly remembered that I was due in the hospital tomorrow anyway, so I didn't have to make an extra trip to get my new injuries looked at. And just before it happened, i had been sent this great little cartoon about how my parents seem to think of me. It was almost perfect timing.

I stood up slowly – or tried to – whilst attempting to work out/remember what had happened. And promptly collapsed right into the metal sign post, and onto my newly bad shoulder, whereupon I got a millisecond of the most intense pain, heard a crunch sound and then all of a sudden had much less pain. Apparently I had popped my shoulder back in without even realising that it had dislocated. I tried to stand up again, successfully, and took stock: there were a few curious bystanders or cars watching, but in general very little attention was being paid to me or the now seriously burning tree, whilst the driver was still nowhere to be seen. I looked in the wreckage, the ditch and the tree, and definitely no driver. I still have no idea (or recollection) as to why we crashed. Realising there was not much else that i could do, I half shrugged, dusted myself off and gingerly limped down the road for a couple of hundred metres until i came across the next boda-boda, whereupon I negotiated a smaller fee with its driver, and continued on my way.

The Ngorongoro Crater is cold. And unpronounceable. But mostly cold Especially when you are sleeping on the rim of it. But even when we finally descended into the crater it remained less than summery. Clouds covered the top, and occasional spitting rain added to the chilliness. Everybody else took the path of least resistance and remained seated in the car wrapped in as many clothes as they had and then covered in sleeping bags, whilst i mostly stood with my head sticking out of the roof wondering why on earth I didn't think to bring a woolly hat and gloves to Equatorial Africa...

Looking into the crater from the top of the access road (above) and the brilliantly Mohicaned Secretary birds (below)

I enjoyed being in the Crater (pronounced roughly Nuh-goron-goro), but I must admit that I don't think it was quite what I expected. What I was expecting of the worlds largest uncovered Caldera, I am not sure, but not quite what I saw. But it was also a pretty fruitful few hours: There seemed to be lions almost everywhere, and we saw several prides as well as several mothers with their young. There were the inevitable zebras, buffalo's, wildebeest, ostriches and antelope (including an Eland, the largest antelope in the world) plus some flamingos on the lake, hippos in a couple of the pools, birds of varying sizes and colours in the grass and large male elephants on the plains. We also saw a large black Rhino – admittedly in the distance – which was surprisingly hard to spot on the grassy plains, partially due to the proliferation of other large, dark animals such as buffalo which from a distance look very similar. But it mean't (for those people with tick boxes who keep track of such things) that for the second time in 2weeks, i had seen the 'big 5' on tour. Well whop-adee-doo.

Wildebeest on the plain, and a hippo – they really do have fantastic ears – in one of the pools (above), and a couple of shots of a Lioness and her two cubs (below)

In a final small twist, we stopped for lunch in an area known to be frequented for it's serval monkeys. Inevitably, after a few minutes a few inquiring animals started jumping around near the car and heading into the tree. With the roof fully open we were an easy target, and so our guide, Simbo, stood up to try and dissuade them from attempting to enter that way. Sadly though he hadn't fully shut the drivers door, and whilst two sat in the tree ready to pounce, one enterprising monkey shot under the car, opened the door and grabbed a sandwich from Simbos pack before retreating high into the tree to enjoy his bounty. We then watched amused as the monkey unwrapped the cling-film, and happily munched away without sharing with any of his co-conspirators. When he finished, he sauntered down from the tree, nonchalantly dropped the empty cling-film on the cars bonnet and ambled off back into the forest.

The monkey in the tree in the process of getting the cling-film of his stolen sandwich

And thus the tour was over bar the drive back, during which everybody else pretty much slept solidly. Back in Arusha, I sadly got to confirm that the Arusha Backpackers fully deserves it's poor reputation. The rooftop bar/restaurant is nice, but everything else is pretty bad. I have honestly slept in more salubrious hedges. I was already disliking it intently and cursing the hostel before I had one of my most miserable nights of recent years. Details aren't necessary. And with that it was 7hours or so of bouncing back to Nairobi, on a broken folding seat and surrounded by, almost inevitably, Finnish girls. Tomorrow I return to having things shoved up my arse. Such fun.

I have a new favourite animal.

This lovely big chap:

With apologies for the photo's poor quality, my battery was virtually dead and all i had time for was one swift point, click and pray. But it does show the elephant – I've been calling him Tusky – drinking from the tap

On our final night, we camped on the rim of the Ngorongoro Crater, the largest intact (and not submerged) Caldera in the world. It was promising from the moment we arrived: glimpses of great views into the Crater, and several zebra grazing on the campsite.

Just as it was getting dark and whilst we were sitting around chatting before dinner, without any great warning, Tusky wandered into the camp and happily munched on some nearby leaves for a while, oblivious to the humans watching him. He then ambled off and we kind of forgot about him. But then, during dinner, he suddenly reappeared and walked straight over to a outside water-tap, barely 3metres from where we were sitting, and with no fuss or problem whatsoever – he had obviously done this before – he turned on the tap with his trunk and began drinking.

Watching an elephant drink is a great experience in itself. But one who is drinking after turning the tap on as well? even better. He continued for a good half an hour – he was obviously a thirsty elephant – and incredibly, on two occasions he even turned the tap off for a few minutes whilst he drank and munched a few branches, before turning it back on and continuing to drink. And then, just like that, he finished and wandered off again, never to be seen again.

Yup, In a world where most humans don't even do it, I had been watching an elephant consciously engaged in water conservation. I'm not sure it gets much better than that!