MASH-tastic! The muzungu’s bus tips from Kampala to Nairobi [UPDATED]
Taking the bus between Kampala and Nairobi? Try MASH! Bus travel tips and visa info.
The East Africa Tourist Visa and Interstate Pass mean that travel between Uganda, Kenya and Rwanda is easier than ever for nationals and has become easier and cheaper for tourists and expats too. Cue: a lot more travel around the three countries for this Muzungu! I’ve taken the MASH bus between Kampala and Nairobi a few times now, and can recommend it. [NOTE this blog post is regularly reviewed and updated. We tried calling various advertised numbers, but failed to get through].
Overall, the Kampala / Nairobi MASH bus service has been excellent. I hardly felt the dreaded bump, bump, bump of the ‘rumble strips’ and managed to sleep most of the journey. Or shall I say, I fell asleep / woke up / fell asleep / woke up… over and over again.
We liked the idea of having a toilet on the bus. If it had been working, that would have been even better! According to the driver, “it is women’s fault that the toilets do not work.” Hmmm… surely they could have fixed it though?
The MASH system is well organised and departs – on time – from the relative calm of the National Theatre, making it a far less hectic experience than going to downtown Kampala bus parks with all their congestion and pickpockets. In Nairobi, however, the bus departs from the equally crazy River Road. Have your wits about you here, as lots of guys will come running at you trying to sell you a cab fair / give you unwanted directions, etc. It can be a bit overwhelming if you’ve just woken up! Don’t rush to get off the bus; pace yourself and check you have all your belongings first.
Back outside the National Theatre in Kampala, an hour before the agreed departure time, a lady called us over to a table in front of our bus where she checked our tickets and passports. Next to her, a very friendly guy checked the contents of all our bags. Another three men in bright orange overalls loaded bags and boxes into the bus. I was asked to remove the padlock from my bag, which obviously I did not want to do. I was told that it was necessary for the security check at the border. I removed a couple of valuables that I’d put in my big bag, and just hoped that everything else would be safe. It was.
The MASH bus was clean. The seatbelt worked, as did the single power socket on the wall next to me. I chose to sit in the second class ‘executive’ section, just a few seats from the front. It had a decent amount of legroom and a reclining seat. My friends in the VIP seats, directly behind the driver, had even more legroom, plus they were allowed to have their big bags with them.
Every bus passenger was handed a small packet of biscuits and a packet of sugary ‘juice.’ My experience of cross-border bus journeys in East Africa is to avoid drinking at all costs, as you can never be sure the driver will stop when you need him to! However, on the MASH bus, we had three ‘comfort breaks’ before we arrived in Nairobi. It’s a “short break for a short call” and these guys do not hang around, believe me.
The driver put on some loud music for our uneventful drive to the border.
Entering Kenya later that night, one of the immigration officials growled a demand to see my Yellow Fever certificate. Luckily I had a photograph of it on my phone.
My friend Julia complained that she hardly slept for the whole journey between Kampala and Nairobi. She only fell asleep for the most interesting part: passing through a private wildlife reserve, where I spotted zebra and antelope from my window seat! “You snooze, you lose” as she likes to tell me… Lol.
According to Wikipedia, “Elmenteita is derived from the Masaai word muteita, meaning “dust place”, a reference to the dryness and dustiness of the area, especially between January and March. In the south-to-north sequence of Rift Valley lakes, Elmenteita is between Lake Naivasha and Lake Nakuru. The major Nairobi – Nakuru highway (A104 road) runs along the nearby escarpment affording motorists a spectacular vista towards the lake. Today the lake is a protected area due to its birdlife. Elementeita – together with Lake Nakuru and Lake Bogoria – has been named a heritage site by UNESCO.” (In 2019 I finally went on safari in Lake Elmenteita – I am still thrilled at the large numbers of flamingos I saw that weekend! The horse ride along the lakeshore was spectacular).
Travel tips for taking the bus between Kampala and Nairobi
NOTE: I don’t guarantee all info is correct. You should check prices, departure times yourself. This is a personal account based on my own experience.
- MASH buses leave on time.
- The MASH booking office in Kampala is in Dewinton Road opposite the National Theatre.
- In Uganda, you can use MTN mobile money to purchase your ticket. Tel +256 (0)774 082853 is the MTN Mobile Money number registered to Mash Bus Services. I used this myself. I first called the booking office to reserve my seat numbers; confirmed my payment using mobile money; then made a second phone call to check they had seen my payment.
- The MASH booking office in Nairobi is in River Road. Their official number is +254 733 623260. In Kenya, you can also book your bus tickets and reserve your seat online and pay by Safaricom’s M-Pesa. (Paybill number 857988). This worked well too.
- To double check ticket prices and times, check out the MASH East Africa website or visit one of their offices.
- Please don’t message me – I don’t work for Mash, I’m just a customer like you 😎
Bus departure times from Kampala and Nairobi
(Please get there early: we’ve called several times to check timings and prices and the info given is inconsistent). Ticket classes are: VIP, business class and ordinary (availability depends on whether you get MASH POA or MASH COOL).
Kampala to Nairobi
At 4 pm and 6 pm MASH bus departs from the National Theatre.
Nairobi to Kampala
At 4 pm and 6 pm MASH bus departs from the MASH office in River Road.
MASH Cool is the air-conditioned bus. (MASH POA can get a bit sweaty!) I liked MASH Cool but you will need a blanket (or shuka) if you take the overnight bus. The MASH Cool bus has curtains too.
- Make sure you have your Yellow Fever vaccination certificate.
- Keep photos of your passport and other important travel documents (bus ticket and Yellow Fever Certificate) on your phone. Read why you must have your Yellow Fever Certificate here.
- Although the bus does have power sockets, in my experience, they don’t always work. Take a spare battery pack for long journeys so you can access digital documents any time.
- Nationals of Uganda, Rwanda and Kenya just have to show a passport or national ID and are given a temporary Interstate Pass. Ugandans who do not have passports are advised to get a temporary travel document. Cost 10k UGX. If you’re in Kampala, you can get one issued at Port Bell (or you can buy it at the border).
- Expats with work permits can get an Interstate Pass at the border at no cost (although check the eTA electronic travel authorisation requirements before leaving home if you are going to Kenya).
- NOTE: the Kenyan eTA has replaced the tourist visa. Scroll down to read more.
- If you need a visa, you are supposed to apply online in advance, whether it’s for a single country visa or an East Africa Tourist Visa. However, all visas appear to be available in person at a border (except EATV, you’ll need to read my blog about that one).
Check out the blogs I’ve written about tourist visas
- Uganda – NOW LIVE: apply for Ugandan tourist visas online
- East Africa – What is the East Africa Tourist Visa? A definitive guide
- Rwanda – All travelers can get #VisaOnArrival
- Kenya – Apply for your eTA (alternative system to a tourist visa)
- The set-up at the Kenya / Uganda border has changed and you now leave one country / enter another within the same building. Previously, you had to get your exit visa from one country and then walk across the border before getting your entry visa into the next country. I found the new system confusing and had apparently entered Kenya illegally! Apparently I did not have one of the required passport stamps, even though I had been processed by three different people at immigration.
- The MASH ticket says “Smoking, alcohol, chewing miraa is prohibited. Maximum luggage limit is 15 KG, any extra weight will be charged. Passengers are warned not to take any foodstuff offered by stranger.” In the past there were incidences of bus passengers being drugged and robbed (not on any particular route or with any particular bus company).
- In addition to the Uganda / Kenya route, MASH also operate to major towns across Kenya.
- Dreamline have also been recommended to me.
Have you taken the bus between Kampala and Nairobi? Which operator do you recommend?
Rwanda Uganda land border reopens after 3 years [UPDATED]
Diary of a Muzungu has crossed from Uganda into Rwanda by road.
UPDATE. May 14th 2022. Hooray! I have crossed the Katuna / Gatuna border; it was very easy.
People entering Rwanda may still be subject to random COVID-19 testing by the Ministry of Health upon entry. However, I didn’t even have to show my vaccination certificates or wear a mask either. Very few people were wearing masks at Gatuna. You don’t have contact tracing if you cross by land borders (no need to fill in a Passenger Locator Form).
Key info: anyone traveling through Kigali International Airport must have a negative PCR test result 72 hours before travelling (no change). This applies even if you are in transit. You also need to fill in a Passenger Locator Form to land in Rwanda. All departing Rwandans must be vaccinated.
Curfew is well and truly lifted. Citizens and Rwandan citizens must be fully vaccinated to access public places (including public transport, but are they checking?) You don’t need to wear a mask in public anymore.
On Monday 30th of January 2022, Rwanda reopened the land border with Uganda at Gatuna / Katuna after a 3-year closure. Other Rwanda land borders reopened on March 7th. I’ve missed my cross-border bus journeys! However, very few people have travelled between Uganda and Rwanda yet this year. Initially it appeared that the Gatuna border only reopened for trade and for nationals of the two countries. The video “advises against non-essential travel.” Unfortunately, tourism must fall into that category. Rwanda Uganda border reopens after three years.
UPDATE: March 5th I met an American passport-holder who travelled by bus from Kigali to Gatuna. She was one of only five people who crossed. She took the bus from Kigali, crossed by foot and then caught a private hire taxi to Kabale.
In recent years it’s been common for international tourists to travel to Uganda and Rwanda on one safari itinerary. During the last three years, few people have been able to do this, unless they have flown into Entebbe (Uganda) and Kigali (Rwanda) International Airports (lockdown measures not withstanding!) Many Ugandans and Rwandans have family both sides of the border.
I am monitoring the situation and updating this blog regularly.
#ExploreUganda #VisitRwanda
“I have liked you”
Gonja and roasted goat: bus travel from Kampala to Fort Portal
The bus from Kampala to Fort Portal leaves at 7 o’clock in the morning and I am told to be there an hour beforehand. I catch a boda boda across the city as the early morning traffic gathers. It’s refreshing to be driving through the cool early morning air with my bag packed for five days on the edge of Kibale Forest – away from the laptop.
Our boda heads downtown – avoiding a certain saloooon – where we are surrounded by thousands of people all jostling to get to work, to sell their wares, gearing up for the day ahead.
As we turn a corner, a tall man in bright green overalls shouts “Link? Link?”
I wasn’t sure where to find the Link bus park but there’s no mistaking the man in green who runs up the street to a yard filled with buses of the same bright green. The word LINK is written in large yellow letters.
I don’t have change (balance) so the man in green offers to take my money and buy a ticket for me and come back with the change for my boda boda. No thank you. He seems legitimate enough but I’m wary. (Once-upon-a-boyfriend-ago, a similar move in Cairo by a very helpful stranger separated us from all our money – on the first day of our holiday). Alert for similar tricks, I walk to a shop opposite the Link bus station, buy two bottles of water and have the change I need to pay for my boda boda and my bus ticket without using an intermediary.
On board I squash myself in near the back of the bus. I choose to sit near a lady and her baby. She beams at me as I sit down.
“But I need some water,” she says very loudly (to me?)
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to make of this so I choose to ignore her.
Before the bus departs for Fort Portal, a man walks up and down the aisle selling cakes. A small round cake is 500 Uganda shillings; a big square slab of cake is 1000 shillings. I opt for the smaller cake to accompany my breakfast apple.
The bus leaves on time.
I check WhatsApp while we are still in town. The guy next to me seems very interested in everything on my phone screen. “Ooo Facebook!” He exclaims. I try and ignore him and shield my screen from his interested eyes. His gaze keeps coming back to my phone. I glare at him. Out of the corner of my eye I see his ‘Nokia’ phone. I guess he is envious of my Smartphone. I feel bad for thinking mean thoughts.
We are seated one row in front of the back row. In my rush to get a seat I have (again) forgotten how I will regret sitting over the back wheel of the bus.
As the bus hits the open road to Fort Portal, phone networks go off and everyone settles down for a snooze. There’s a blast of cold wet air. Every time we slide the window shut, the juddering and shaking of the vehicle reopens it. The lady pulls the blanket over her child’s head. I try and keep myself warm by putting my bag on my lap.
The lady is trying to keep the window closed to keep her baby warm. The man sitting between us has fallen asleep. “Typical husband,” I think. “He’s asleep while she’s worrying about the baby.” I’m worried the baby is as cold as I am, so I fold a small piece of paper and pass it to her, thinking she may be able to use it to wedge the window shut. “Do you want me to put it out of the window?” She motions.
No!
I doze and am woken by the ringing of a phone. This lady does love to chat. I hear her cough and I get up to retrieve the second bottle of water from my bag. If she’s breast-feeding, she must need water.
We are halfway to Mubende before I buy my ticket. The ticket seller slowly works down the aisle, writing out each ticket by hand. The guy next to me peers into the pocket of my bag. I try and retrieve my money without showing him exactly how much I am carrying. He’s craning his neck to have a good look. The guy selling tickets doesn’t have enough change so he writes 5,000 UGX and his signature on the back of the ticket to denote that he has to pay me my balance.
At Mubende, plastic bowls full of roasted gonja and cardboard boxes of water and sodas are pushed up to the bus window. Someone waves roasted meat at us through the gap. I opt for a chapati. “Roasted or dry?” The young man asks me helpfully. I understand enough of the lady’s Luganda to know that she is complaining about the prices. She sends the young man to the shop with her order for orange squash and goat.
“I have liked you,” she said. “You can give me your number so I can call you.”
She tells me that she is going to Kasese (the stop after Fort Portal) to visit her parents for a few days and that she will go back to Kampala to see her husband.
“I thought this one was your husband?” I ask.
“No. This one I just met him on the bus.”
The young man jumps back on the bus brandishing wooden skewers of glistening roasted goat. He offers me one. It’s kind of him but I’m not in the mood for roasted goat. (I also recall the advice not to accept food or drink offered by strangers on public transport). This pair seem kind enough though.
He removes the flimsy bag (polythene paper in Uglish) from around the meat and screws into a small ball. He passes it to the woman who knows exactly what he wants her to do with it: she forces it out of the window.
He sits next to me, tearing at the meat with his teeth. His teeth hit a bone which he spits at his feet. A small heap of goat bones accumulate on the floor between us. The smell of roasted meat fills the air.
The chat chat chat starts again. I like this couple. She and her baby remind me of my niece and her baby. She is loud but friendly. He reminds me of someone from the village. He appears uneducated but innocent.
More passengers squeeze onto the bus. A lady passenger places her big bag on the aisle and sits on it and we’re off again. I am still standing up when the driver slams on the brakes. The guy next to me grimaces; I hang onto the side of the seat. There’s never a dull moment on the bus to Fort Portal.
On the other side of the aisle is a Muslim lady wearing a bright yellow headscarf and pink lipstick. She wears a bold kitenge print dress and an eyeful of cleavage.
I pull out a large tourist map of Kampala, fully expecting the young man to ogle at it and start asking questions. I’m rather pleased with my new map: KCCA have launched a tourism map of the city and I’m interested to see which places feature on it.
Nothing! The young man doesn’t even glimpse over. I read the map, unfold it, turn it over, fold again. I’m amazed – the guy doesn’t register interest even once! Is tourism just ‘a white people thing’ I ask myself?
I ask myself: I wonder if he can read? Or perhaps it’s only money and phones that make him tick?
The ticket inspector returns to check our tickets and I politely remind “sebo (sir)” whether he has my balance yet. He doesn’t seem to hear me.
“*Gwe!” Yells the young man, trying to back me up.
*It’s a little rude considering “Gwe” is old enough to be the young boy’s father!
Road travel from Kampala to Fort Portal via Mubende – tips for travelers
- There’s a universal price of 300 ugx for a short call whether at Kampala Link bus station, en route at Mubende or at the bus station in Fort Portal.
- For the best HOT gonja and chicken, buy directly from the women who are grilling (on the way back from the toilet!)
- If you take the afternoon bus from Fort Portal, you may be lucky enough to see the sun set over Lake Wamala. What a wonderful, unexpected sight that was.
- Link have made a lot of investment over the past few years: new buses, redesigned depots and generally helpful staff. The CCTV security system at the Kampala depot is another positive development too.
- Buying bus tickets is a lot easier and more secure since Link introduced a new digital ticketing solution with the KaCyber app. It’s great because it promotes social distancing (avoid the scrum at the booking office!) Book your ticket in advance and pay using mobile money or PayPal. The KaCyber Go App is free to download but not available on all Link bus routes yet. The app is particularly useful now since it is a ‘contactless’ solution (no need to touch money or paper tickets so no need to sanitise your hands!)
- I wrote this story before COVID-19 disorganised us.
- Diary of a Muzungu readers know I regularly take the bus from Kampala to Fort Portal and in October 2020 I took my first bus journey of the pandemic. All travellers have to wear facemasks and everyone’s hands are sprayed with disinfectant. I sat between one empty seat and the aisle. For social distancing purposes, the pattern of vacant seats was repeated throughout the bus.
Do you travel by bus? What are your travel tips? If you enjoy my bus journey stories, I have plenty more 😎
The land of 1000 … surprises! A solo exploration of Rwanda
Want to explore Rwanda? An ABC of Rwanda’s tourist accommodation – AirBnB, boutique hotels, camping and luxury lodges
A recent trip to Rwanda revealed such a wide variety of places to stay that I thought I must share them with you. Although Rwanda pitches itself as a high-end destination now – and has some wonderful luxury lodges like the remarkable Virunga Lodge – the country has a wide variety of accommodation for all budgets. It’s a very easy country to travel around too (although Ugandan friends did freak out when our vehicle started driving on the right side of the road!)
I seem to have developed this habit of leaving home for three days and returning after three weeks. It’s hard to resist the invitation to visit new places, especially when you’re already far from home (and your toothbrush is packed!)
The early morning bus from Kampala to Kigali is so much more pleasant than the night bus. (Why on earth did I take all those night buses?) I used to think I could kill a night by sleeping on the bus but sitting on the bus is no recompense for lack of a bed. I love Jaguar’s new wide ‘VIP only’ seats. There’s plenty of legroom and – hooray! – working seat belts. I’ve been using Jaguar Executive Coaches between Kampala and Kigali since 2011.
Despite rumours of bad politics between Uganda and Rwanda, I couldn’t tell whether anything was different at the border. Rwanda immigration’s new building is just having its last coat of paint. Those immigration officials must be relieved. If you cross the border late at night, they sit there in open-sided shipping containers, wearing thick jackets and suffering the cold of the damp river crossing.
At Nyabugogo bus park in Kigali, I met my new friend and kindred spirit Denis Senechal, a French-Canadian who has relocated to Rwanda’s capital with his Rwandan wife. Read my story about the cobbler of Nyabugogo bus park that I wrote while looking out of the bus window.
Denis and I swapped stories about their former life in Kampala as he drove me to the cosy and colourful Umusambi Bed and Breakfast in Kibagabaga, my home for the next few days.
After a leisurely breakfast the next morning – “don’t rush me, I’ve only been sitting at the breakfast table for an hour and a half” – I got chatting to an Australian couple who invited me to tour Inema Arts Gallery and the Caplaki craft market. I’ve managed to finance my nomad lifestyle by not visiting craft shops (so it was rather weird to be seen as a tourist).
Rwandan arts and crafts: Inema Arts Gallery and Caplaki Craft Market, Kigali
Caplaki Craft Market has excellent quality crafts – and divergent prices! Luckily we had the lovely Tony from Burundi to negotiate and whisper “don’t pay more than that” under his breath as we wandered from shop to shop.
We’d established that I could buy a snake (made from recycled bottle tops) for around 8,000 RWF (around $8). The shop next door asked for 15,000 RWF. At shop number three, the man with boozy breath said “I give you good price” and then asked me for 25,000 RWF for the same item! (He was the reminder to not buy the first thing you set your heart on).
In the afternoon, Greg Bakunzi from Red Rocks in Musanze introduced me to the Inzora Rooftop Café at Ikirezi Bookshop / Librairie Ikirezi. This stylish – bookish – café is definitely my kind of place and one I plan to revisit.
A highlight of my time in Kigali was feeling free to walk wherever I wanted. Wide (motorbike-free!) pavements and street lights make walking a pleasure. From Ikirezi Bookshop, I walked to the famous ‘peace basket’ structure that is Kigali Convention Centre. It can be seen from all corners of the city, particularly at night when it is lit in a variety of mesmerising colours. Radisson Blu Hotel forms part of the Convention Centre complex. The presidential convoy of Range Rovers with black-tinted windows sped past me as I left the hotel.
Photo highlights from Kigali and Musanze – click on the photos to reveal their location!
Did you know that Google Maps continues to work even when you’re not on Wi-Fi? (You can see who failed physics, can’t you?) To start, I logged onto the free Wi-Fi at Radisson Blu and typed my destination into the app. Google Maps traced the route and the arrow kept moving, even as I left the WiFi zone behind me to walk 5.5 km uphill and down towards Umusambi Guesthouse. Rwandans are generally polite people, and some greeted me as I walked. Walking the streets of Kigali was a wonderful experience (although not everywhere is as developed as the route between the Convention Centre and Kibagabaga, as I found out the following week when I stayed in a residential back street). First the muzungu got lost, then the moto got lost and later Google Maps dumped me in a field of maize! (But tell me, what is a travel blog without the occasional detour?)
I felt so relaxed at Umusambi Guesthouse, that it was an effort to haul myself off the sofa! I chatted in French with the guesthouse’s Belgian owner and had an eye-opening conversation with an Italian lady who is vaccinating frontline staff against Ebola. “Prevention is better than cure” and we are thankful to see numerous interventions in place across the region.
I’ve travelled by bus from Kigali to Musanze many times and it couldn’t be easier. The Virunga Express from Nyabugogo takes a couple of hours from the city as it winds upwards through some of Rwanda’s one thousand hills.
From Musanze, I took a 7 km moto(rbike) ride to the Red Rocks campsite. Here at high altitude, evenings can be cold. I was glad to have a friendly dog lying on my feet as I warmed myself at the campfire while chatting to two very cool trail-blazing chicks: Harriet, one of Red Rocks’ co-founders and Angel, one of Rwanda’s few women tour drivers.
Red Rocks Campsite and Red Rocks Initiatives, Musanze Rwanda
Red Rocks is a popular campsite with super friendly staff who make a point of greeting you with a big smile. I enjoyed chatting French with the chef. Quels petits déjeuners énormes! (The breakfasts were huge!)
Red Rocks is home to authentic community tourism and I was honoured to spend some time with Kamana Theophile, an environmentalist with a passion for community projects. In the Red Rocks Museum, he demonstrated how banana beer is made in a giant wooden canoe-type structure. (I tried some on a previous trip – it’s delicious!) Profits from Red Rocks Campsite fund the indigenous tree nursery and gardening demonstration plots. Kamana discussed in French (ooo la la) how the local community are given seedlings, learn gardening techniques and good environmental practices – all for free. Through Red Rocks Initiatives, local communities – and the environment – directly benefit from tourism. Every aspect is environmentally sound: the ‘raised bed’ kitchen garden is made of volcanic rock and tree seedlings are carried home in pots made of banana fibre (plastic bags are illegal in Rwanda and the ban is strictly enforced).
For a change of scene – we travel bloggers are rarely off-duty you know! – I was escorted to the new Classic Lodge where I did the full tour of the extensive buildings. The night before, over a thousand people had attended an event there. Had Musanze ever hosted such a large number of people?
Classic Lodge in Musanze is quite a set-up!
Here I was given a tour of the presidential suite (which President Kagame himself visited while it was under construction), a family cottage, suites, superior rooms and others. There are at least 40 different rooms and conference facilities.
Café Crema in Musanze is a cosy setup with charming and courteous staff. It’s the kind of place I love to hang out. The cappuccino was excellent, and I was happy to kill a few hours there (the first 30 minutes of WiFi are free).
Caffeine levels boosted, I dropped by the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund exhibition. It was humbling to spend a few moments reconnecting with my first reason for travelling to Rwanda, that being to support gorilla conservation.
Next stop Kigali.
The advantage of having fluid plans is you can take up new opportunities as they present themselves. The downside is you occasionally get stuck without a place to sleep! Thanks to Moses Nezehose who booked me in at the Tea House, another great establishment which is walking distance from Remera, a part of the city that I’ve come to know a little over my years of visiting Kigali.
On my first trips to the capital, I would stay at hostels run by various convents. (You can’t argue with $10 a night, even if the shower is cold). Centre Christus Hostel in Remera is set in green, bird (and monkey)-filled gardens away from the main road and I’ve been happy to stay there on several occasions.
On the second leg of my trip in Kigali, I was spoiled rotten. I spent three nights at the fabulous Pili Pili Boutique Hotel. My – it was heaven – so much so that I didn’t leave the compound for three days! My heart skipped a beat when the beautiful breakfast tray arrived in my room.
The cosmopolitan bar and brilliant music at Pili Pili were quite a thrill for this girl from the village! I loved the fresh grilled Sambaza fish from Lake Tanganyika and enjoyed my chats with Rudy, Pili Pili’s owner. I was fascinated to hear about his former life running hotels and bars in Bujambura. I visited Burundi in 2012 and really fell for the place. J’adore l’Afrique francophone!
Pili Pili Bistro and Boutique Hotel, Kigali
Pre-booked visitors ousted me from my little pad – goddamit – meaning it was time to download Air BnB and try my luck getting a cheap room in the city. Within minutes I was booked in to stay with Josiane and her four young sons. It was hard to understand where she lived so she came to meet me midway on a moto. She couldn’t have been nicer. She almost fell off her chair when I told her that Uganda is the Source of the Nile. She was quite adamant that it is in Rwanda! The debate continues…
After the comforts of a luxury set-up, it was nice to spend time with a Rwandan family. They treated me well and the meals were huge. (As for the cockroaches, well I’m glad I didn’t see any on my first night there; the longer I stayed there, the bigger the cockroaches I saw!)
I happened to be in Kigali on a Sunday when roads are closed to allow city residents space to run and exercise. Groups were exercising at Amahoro Stadium that morning as I walked to Java House in Remera where I fell in love with rhinos! Did you know Rwanda has just successfully relocated five black rhinos from Europe to Rwanda? The transformation of Akagera National Park is sensational, as I have witnessed on my last two visits there.
On my last day in Kigali, I headed to the Rwanda Development Board offices, also in Remera. Tourism, conservation and many other departments are managed by RDB. Boy what an impressive setup. Did you know that it’s free to register a business in Rwanda? Did you know that it generally takes only six hours to do that? The ‘one stop shop’ at RDB really is that. You can make bank payments, get advice from copyright specialists and immigration officials and have someone sit with you and guide you through the whole process of setting up a company, from start to finish. Let’s not do comparisons with Uganda…
Upstairs, I was delighted to see Moses, one of our hosts at the brilliant Kwita Izina gorilla naming ceremony. Kwita Izina is the annual celebration of conservation and tourism in Rwanda and now lasts a whole week.
Lunchtime took me back to the famous Chez Lando for my final brochettes (grilled meat on skewers) of the trip. I do enjoy Rwandan food. Read How to eat like a Rwandan – 10 snacks (I bet you’ve never tried).
The final leg of my trip took me back to Kampala. Life is easy when you can jump in an Uber as soon as you hit the city outskirts! Boutique B&Bs were a bit of a theme on this trip and I was thrilled when Albert Ntambiko invited me to stay at the new Mahali Guesthouse in Makindye. Albert is also the owner of Coffee at Last. Mahali is housed in the new Coffee at Last building, just a few steps away from the original establishment.
Like I said, I seem to have this habit of leaving home for three days and returning after three weeks! Last year’s four day trip to Mombasa led to invitations to visit high-end hotels in Nyali, explore backpacker hostels and luxury beach resorts in Diani and attend Diani’s Five A Side International Beach Touch Rugby Tournament. (I arrived home three weeks later!)
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A rainy season journey: ‘nsenene’ grasshopper road trip to Fort Portal
A rainy season journey: nsenene grasshopper road trip to Fort Portal
Our dawn departure from Kampala is marked by streaks of pink and orange daybreak filtering over Port Bell and Lake Victoria. Houselights twinkle in the darkness. Kampala is so pretty at this time of day.
We are driving to Fort Portal. Along Hoima Road, a traffic policeman dressed in white leaps out into the road to intercept a passing saloon car that has large white canvas sacks billowing out of every window.
An excited Julia shouts “nsenene!”
Grasshoppers are back on the menu!
It’s rainy season and there is a glut of nsenene (grasshoppers). The sacks contain live insects that are hung out of the window of the moving vehicle to keep them cool as they are transported to Kampala markets. Ugandans are going crazy for the delicacy, with queues of people lining up downtown to buy them.
Vehicle after vehicle drives towards us laden with white canvas sacks.
It’s 7 o’clock on a November morning.
Julia recounts the story of the day she bought a quarter sack of nsenene on a previous road trip between Fort Portal and Kampala. The kids were screaming with excitement at the thought of feasting on them. Grasshoppers do not have a long shelf life. They have to be ‘cleaned’ (their wings and legs removed) before they can be washed and cooked. Everyone arrived home from the long journey exhausted, she said, but then had to spend several hours plucking off wings and legs! “I think everyone was too sick to eat them after that!”
I remember opening the fridge the next day to find it full of grasshoppers (in addition to the chicken feet and cow hooves reserved for the dog!)
On our journey, Malcolm likes reminding us that Julia was a full-on vegan when they first knew each other many years ago on the Mweya Peninsula in Queen Elizabeth National Park. Back then a grasshopper would not have passed her lips.
At a small trading centre we see some lovely looking chapatis. “Let’s stop for a rolex,” Malcolm says. Everyone loves a rolex. The popular Ugandan street food (of an omelette wrapped in a chapatti) has gone global this year (thanks to an article called ‘The African dishes you should be eating’ on CNN.com)
Our car pulls up next to an open-air butchery. Next to the car, the butcher hacks at a lump of meat with a machete. His face is covered with tiny flecks of meat. Big slabs of beef hang on hooks, intestines lie glistening on a table.
“I’m just going to get some cow hooves for the dogs,” Julia informs me. (Barf. Did you need to tell me? I beg).
As she walks towards the butcher, she stumbles over the head of a recently butchered cow. It sits upside down on the muddy ground, bright red blood draining onto the dark floor. A man straps the cow’s head to the back of his bicycle and wheels it away.
Malcolm gets back into the car frustrated. “That guy has a chapati, the other guy has eggs, but no-one can make me a rolex!” He is on a mission. He decides to return to the stall and get the vendors organised.
Meanwhile, I should not be surprised to see Julia instruct a man to tie a bag of grasshoppers onto the front of our vehicle!
A woman rushes over with a basket of roasted gonja (bananas) on her head. A young man walks up to our parked car and shows me a gold coin. He asks me how much I want to buy it for. He’s trying to sell the muzungu a 20 cent Euro coin. (I wonder if he’s been asking every passing muzungu to buy it).
A happy Malcolm gets back into the car with three monster-sized rolex. The chapatis are thick and well-cooked. They are delicious! We are ten minutes south of Mityana.
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve!” Malcolm counts twelve Great Blue Turacos. “They must have just come out of roost,” he says (meaning the birds have just left their overnight perch).
As we continue our journey towards Fort Portal, more cars come towards us, overloaded with grasshoppers.
“I could carry three sofa sets on the roof of my car today and none of the traffic police would notice!” Exclaims Julia. This morning, the traffic police are only interested in watching the vehicles heading to Kampala.
En route we talk about birds, we talk about conservation, we talk about the many poacher snares and traps that have been recovered by Uganda Conservation Foundation and Uganda Wildlife Authority.
Last time I drove this road I had to slam on the brakes to avoid crashing into a cow that walked straight into the road without looking (it seems to be a Ugandan trait!)
We pass lines of bright shiny corrugated iron sheets, set in horizontal lines to catch grasshoppers. The insects are attracted by a bright light bulb that reflects onto the metal. The insects crash into the metal sheets and land in the buckets at the bottom.
At Mubende, we pull over for Julia to buy some fried grasshoppers and mbuzi roasted ‘goat on a stick’.
“That’s baboon meat!” Shouts Malcolm.
“It’s not baboon!” Laughs the meat-seller.
A man selling water and sodas bangs on the window and tells me to put the window down. I bang back at him angrily. He gets the point and we smile at each other through the glass.
I spot three Hooded Vultures at the top of a tree “the ones with pink necks” I say. The birds’ necks are feather-free to stop them getting covered in blood and core as they eat corpses. “Vultures are known as coprophages,” Malcolm corrects me “because they eat turds!”
Driving through Kiko tea estate, outside Fort Portal, thousands of grasshoppers float above the bright green tea bushes like a layer of green mist. The emergence of grasshoppers floats above the tea and up into the air.
A troupe of eight black and white Colobus Monkeys sit at the top of a tree in a clearing next to the tea plantation. I’m surprised to see them in such an open area. “They do very well in disturbed forest,” Julia – the primatologist – tells us.
We are travelling to Kanyanchu where Julia’s land touches Kibale Forest. For many years she lived in a treehouse in the middle of the forest while she followed, studied and habituated the chimpanzees that are now so popular with tourists.
Malcolm grabs his binoculars to take a closer look at large flocks of Abdim Storks that are circling high in the air, to our left and to our right. “Must be thousands of them,” he says.
According to Fanshawe and Stevenson’s The Birds of East Africa (the best book for identifying Uganda’s birds), Abdim Storks are “nomadic and gregarious.” They are seen in Uganda between October and November as they follow “the rains and burns” on their flight from northern Africa. They are known as “opportunistic” feeders and are undoubtedly making the most of the grasshopper season.
We talk about migration and Malcolm explains how birds use thermals to cover vast distances. “You will notice that vultures are never in the air at the start or the end of the day. They need the hot air rising off the land to allow them to climb high. Vultures can go up 1 or 2 km and then slowly guide for 400 miles. Doing this, they expend very little energy.”
He tells us about a Ruppell’s Griffon Vulture that was seen 12 km above the surface of the earth by a commercial pilot. Vultures have incredible eyesight and watch each other from up on high. I like hanging out with Malcolm Wilson. He is an expert ornithologist and ringer or ‘bander,’ at the very top of his game, and revered by many birders in Uganda. Not only can Malcolm identify a bird, he has a mine of fascinating facts to explain what we’re looking at. “A vulture only drops for one reason: a kill. When one drops out of the sky, the others follow.” Read about his ringing expeditions and bird watching tours across Africa on his web site.
At Tooro Botanical Gardens, a young man called John guides us through the various plants, telling us both the English names and the Latin names. With John’s help, Malcolm and Julia pick out a selection of tree seedlings. Julia and I share a moment of realisation. Julia has been wanting to invite Malcolm to advise her on which plants and trees will help develop her land for birding tourism. Finally we are here. This weekend has been many years in the planning. I am so excited to be part of it.
There is a small fishpond in Tooro Botanical Gardens. It hasn’t been stocked with fish yet but there’s already a heron inspecting it. Julia correctly identifies it as a Black-headed Heron. The girl’s birding knowledge is coming on!
We drive on the new road through Kibale. The Chinese (of course) construction company have been working on it for a couple of years. It’s a good road in many respects but too wide. We bemoan how big and fast the road is. It passes directly through Kibale National Park, described as having “the highest concentration and density of primates in Africa.” We are worried how many of the forest’s animals will be killed by speeding motorists. There are a few road humps but nowhere near enough. We hope and pray that the speed humps will proliferate.
Our car passes through a troop of baboons. One stands on its two back legs to peer into the car looking for food.
I am appalled to see that one of them has had its whole snout (large pointed nose and lips) are missing. Its normally 3D face is flat. His front teeth are permanently visible but beyond this appalling wound, the animal looks healthy enough. Will he survive?
Another baboon, in the bush above the verge, picks at something that it holds in its right paw. It appears to be an animal skin. The baboon pulls the last bits of flesh off some skin “it’s most likely a vervet monkey,” Malcolm says.
At our final destination, Sunbird Hill, Malcolm teaches us all about tree felling and the best plants to attract more birds to the forest edge. It’s an enlightening few days.
If you enjoy my insect stories, read Grasshoppers – nsenene: eat them or smoke them? Discuss.
Bumming around in Nyabugogo bus park
Waiting for the bus to depart: Nyabugogo bus park, Kigali
I can’t believe my luck. My allocated seat – number 11 – happens to be the window seat near the front of the bus. I couldn’t have chosen a better position. (Luckily it’s not so near the front that I can see danger looming! Jaguar Executive Coaches block off the driver’s cabin from the rest of the passengers, which suits me just fine). I always travel between Rwanda and Uganda’s capital cities with Jaguar, as regular blog readers may recall.
Just don’t sit on the back seat – you will feel every hump and bump! On the bus from Kampala to Kigali
From my window seat, I kill time watching a man cleaning and repairing shoes. The shoeshine man has set up his makeshift shop in one of the bright yellow bus shelters. On a blue painted wooden bench sit eight pairs of clean shoes, their wet tongues hanging out to dry.
A man wearing dark green overalls stops at the shoeshine man’s bus shelter to remove one of his baseball boots. (What is the fashion with cutting the huge hole in the backside of your overalls? Is it general wear and tear? Is it for quick access at the local latrine? I don’t mean to stare at the guy’s bum, but… my eyes are drawn to it by the gaping hole!)
The shoeshine man retrieves a pair of blue flip-flops for the customer. The new arrival removes his threadbare “peephole” socks (to match his “peephole” overalls) and wipes the dirt from between his toes. He folds his socks away into a small ball. He puts the ball of socks in his pocket and leaves his boots with the shoeshine man before he walks off in the temporary footwear.
In the meantime, a smart-looking gentleman removes one of his black office shoes. The shoeshine man picks out a pair of black sandals from his canvas sack and hands them to the new customer. The man who arrived wearing black office shoes rolls up the bottom of his trousers, puts on the black flip-flops and disappears into the Nyabugogo bus park crowd.
His customers temporarily gone – replaced by their shoes – the shoeshine man gets to work, scrubbing another pair of black leather shoes. He scrubs them with a green plastic brush, as he bends over a red plastic basin of water. He looks around for something, and pulls an old T-shirt from his white canvas sack. He dries the shoe thoroughly with the T-shirt.
A tall man in a white baseball cap sits on the yellow plastic bench of the bus shelter, grabs a brush and starts to brush his black boots. No money exchanges hands.
Customer number four is given bright pink plastic sandals to wear. They look rather like a lady’s house slippers to me. The man sits gazing into the distance, chewing on a toothpick. Another guy in long green overalls comes to stand under the bus shelter. He looks over at the Muzungu in the bus and flashes me a big grin. I’m trying not to stare – but he has this huge gaping hole in the back of his overalls too – and he’s rather handsome… from the front and from the back too!
A boy selling newspapers stops in front of the bus shelter. He grabs a brush, gives his shoes a quick scuff and moves on through the crowd.
As people come and go, one thing is constant: the shoeshine man works and works, hardly passing the time of day to chat or to look up from his work. The ‘man in pink sandals’ walks off contentedly – transformed into ‘the man in brown polished brogues’.
A young man walks by, with an empty milk churn hanging off one arm. A paper tissue drops out of his pocket onto the ground. A minute later, a woman in a headscarf and red batik wrap approaches, equipped with a traditional broom and a red plastic shopping bag containing a battered old cardboard box and miscellaneous rubbish. She leans down to pick up an empty crisp packet and the tissue. The shoeshine man hands her some of his rubbish. They do not acknowledge each other. I sense the rhythm of a regular routine. It’s a relaxing way to wile away a few minutes before the bus pulls out of Nyabugogo bus park for Kampala.
Carrying a heavy load – these guys are strong! Selling biscuits, sodas and water to the bus driver in Musanze bus park
Read How to eat like a Rwandan (10 snacks I bet you’ve never tried) inspired by traveling through Musanze bus park.
Hard-boiled eggs, roasted ground nuts (and akabanga chilli oil of course!) on sale in Musanze bus park
Those are some nice-looking rolex! A food vendor jumped on the bus to sell us breakfast
If you enjoy the muzungu’s occasional cross-border bus journeys, read:
‘No hurry in Africa’ – bus from Kampala to Kigali
This guy should have been on the stage: the traveling salesman who literally travels as he travels, walking up and down the aisle of the bus from Kampala to Kigali, working the crowd, proffering samples and chucking out sweets to an enrapt audience of hecklers. How I wished I understood Luganda at that moment!
MASH-tastic! The muzungu’s bus tips from Kampala to Nairobi
Julia complained that she hardly slept for the whole journey. She only fell asleep for the most interesting part: passing through a private wildlife reserve, where I spotted zebra and antelope from my window seat. “You snooze, you lose!” As she likes to tell me…
The real ‘boda boda’ – Nagawa travels sidesaddle into Kenya’
We drove from the coach park straight into heavy evening traffic – and the side of a car. After ten minutes of arguing and arm waving, the consensus was that the car was the one-size-fits-all Ugandan term: “stubborn.”
Airport drama # 1- “The plane is closing!”
If I’m honest, I’ve lived on ‘African time’ before I lived in Africa… but even when I make a timely plan, something seems to crop up to delay me.
‘African time’ and international flight departures do not mix. This is just one of the muzungu’s series of airport dramas! This one took place at Entebbe International Airport, Uganda.
This time I thought I was prepared.
I was at the airport on time.
I had looked at the Emirates website but could not work out how much I would be charged for the additional luggage I was taking home for a friend. I had therefore guessed I would just pay an extra $50 per bag (the amount I’ve paid with other airlines). All I saw was a note on their web site saying that because the connecting flight was provided by a third party, I would have to take the bags to the airport and pay the excess baggage fee there.
At Entebbe International Airport, a man called Ken very helpfully shrink-wrapped my four bags into just three. (I thought this would be a good ploy for outwitting the system, and hoped that I would just be charged for three excess bags not four).
I was rather pleased with myself.
At the check-in desk, I somehow lifted the bags onto the weighing scale. They registered a total of 44 kg.
“That will be $960 please Madam.”
“What?!” I blurted out.
$960? She even said it with a straight face.
“You must be joking!” I slammed back at her. “I don’t have that kind of money, so what am I supposed to do?”
She was totally unhelpful.
I tried to bargain with her but she said once it had registered on the system, there was no negotiation. I searched her face for an answer.
“You can just give it away or throw it,” she said.
And then I saw red.
I had been willing to pay one hundred dollars or so for extra baggage but after the way she talked to me, I decided I wasn’t going to give the airline a single extra dollar.
“The plane is closing!” Shouted one of the airport staff. So much for my normal view that ‘Ugandans are so friendly’, these two ladies and a gentlemen were particularly unhelpful.
“I tried to pay for the excess baggage online but there was no information!” I shouted back at them.
I then proceeded to claw apart my beautifully shrink-wrapped bags.
In a panic, I ran over to Ken and begged for his help. He obliged with a razor blade and delicately sliced through our 20 minutes of wrapping. (I just hoped he wasn’t going to slice straight through the canvas material of the bag as well!)
What to take with me? What to leave behind?
I broke out into a sweat as I tried to quickly decide what to leave and what to take with me. My friend had paid for my air ticket; I couldn’t leave his stuff behind. But what was I going to wear for my three weeks away if I just took his stuff?
“I can’t afford to miss another plane. My family will never let me live it down!” I thought to myself.
Knickers and bras flew left and right, much to the hilarity of the staff, as I panicked my way through my bags. (What a great time for them to regain their sense of humour – at the Muzungu’s expense…) Isn’t it funny how I didn’t laugh with them?
My driver wasn’t picking my call; he had gone to attend a burial. There was no way I could speak to him and arrange for him to come back and collect my stuff before I got onto the plane and switched my phone off.
Decisions, decisions…
“Ken,” I asked him, “can I trust you?”
There was nothing else to do but to trust this guy. I certainly wasn’t going to ditch my stuff in the airport for the unhelpful staff to take home.
I handed over a 20,000 Uganda shilling note – and two bags full of my personal belongings and my friend’s expensive whiskey – with phone numbers of a couple of friends who I hoped would follow up for me.
As I rushed towards the plane, Ken came running after me to check I had written the phone numbers down correctly. He seemed honest enough.
… And then I sat on the plane twiddling my thumbs for half an hour! (All the time worrying what I had left behind, and whether I would see any of it ever again)
The long-term effect of the momentary madness at Entebbe was felt throughout my trip: I was to realise 24 hours later that, in the pandemonium, I had left behind my phone recharger and my laptop recharger.
A big thank you to Honest Ken. He helped me in my hour of need and everything was still in my bag when my driver picked it up from Entebbe the next day!
If you enjoyed the image of the Muzungu panicking, write me a comment below. Airport drama # 2 is not far behind!
Have you seen my aerial photos of Lake Victoria and Kisoro? Taken on board domestic flights with Aerolink.
A rolex-fuelled bike tour of Uganda and Africa
Uganda bike tour. An interview with Ron Rutland ‘Fat Kid on a Bike’
“I’m no David Attenborough, but trekking with the gorillas has been the greatest wildlife experience of my life,” said Ron Rutland, the ‘Fat Kid on a Bike’ who cycled through Uganda en route from Cape Town to London.
Ron is planning to travel through every African country and is a total rugby fanatic! He aims to arrive in London for the Rugby World Cup in August 2015. I organised Fat Kid’s Uganda gorilla trekking permits for him and we caught up when he was in Kampala. It was without doubt my #HumanSpirit moment of the week.
Diary of a Muzungu: What has your journey been like so far?
Fat Kid: I’m now 160 days into it and without sounding corny, it’s getting better and better each day. I’ve spent so much time organising, planning and sorting out visas for places like Eritrea and Somaliland, that I can’t wait to get there now.
I’m loving it, I’m absolutely loving it.
Diary of a Muzungu: What do you think of Uganda?
Fat Kid: I can honestly say that in 160 days cycling, the stretch from the Rwandese border and Kisoro, around Lake Mutanda, with views of the Virunga Volcanoes and on through Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, has been the most beautifully scenic part of my trip so far. It’s a truly unforgettable part of the world – but nobody knows about Uganda as a tourist destination!
Uganda has been one of the highlights of my trip, from start to finish.
Diary of a Muzungu: Have you tasted Ugandan food?
Ron and I discussed the Rolex – Uganda’s most famous street food.
Fat Kid: Rolex are a good nutritional balance; they’re particularly good for me because of all the carbohydrates.
Diary of a Muzungu: Can you beat my friend’s record of consuming six rolex in a 24 hour period?
(He may be called the Fat Kid, but no, that rolex record remains unbeaten!)
I had assumed – wrongly! – that Ron was at the peak of physical fitness before he embarked on his mammoth tour.
Fat Kid: Quite the opposite, I’d just recovered from an injury that needed surgery; with little training, the cycling was very tough going for the first two or three weeks. Everything became easier after that.
Diary of a Muzungu: What is the most useful thing you travel with?
Fat Kid: I have a very simply written letter saying that I am South African and explaining the purpose of my journey and the route. In the letter, I apologise for not speaking every language and say I have few needs apart from buying food, and thanking them for their hospitality. I have a copy of this letter in French, Arabic, Swahili and a few other key other languages.
Diary of a Muzungu: How did you feel about spending Christmas away from home?
Fat Kid: To be honest, there’s nothing I would rather be doing than this. I am living the dream! How exciting is that?
I’m a social person but also very happy in my own company. So far I have had about 30 days (out of 160) riding with people, but it’s very rare to be on my own. You are always surrounded by people. I haven’t yet got to the point where I felt lonely. I’m quite looking forward to those solitary moments in the desert.
One of my real frustrations, however, is people’s curiosity. You get stared at when you are eating, when you are putting up your tent, or cooking your food. You do feel like a circus freak. In Angola, 60 or 70 people watched me. The next morning I asked the local chief why everyone was staring at me. “They have never seen a white guy on a bike, and neither have I.” They might have seen the odd white person drive past in a UN vehicle, but they had never seen a white guy on a bike, put up a tent, or cook for himself.
I understand it, but the “Muzungu how are you?” does get a bit overwhelming. When you are cycling uphill and you get these constant questions, I think “I don’t want to be rude but actually I am completely shattered…”
Diary of a Muzungu: Your journey is called Lettie’s Ride. Who is Lettie?
Fat Kid: Lettie is a friend of mine who has breast cancer. She’s 36 and she has three kids. She has lived her life to the full; no-one could appreciate their health more than her. There are frequent sporting events, celebrating life for Lettie, like people running up Cape Town’s Table Mountain barefoot.
When I first planned this trip, it was just a selfish journey to watch the Springboks play rugby. I know how hard it is to do fundraising, so I didn’t want to commit to it when I knew how hard it was going to be just to cycle from Cape Town to London.
It was when Lettie’s husband sent an email saying that Lettie’s cancer had come back more aggressively that I decided to dedicate my ride to her. There have been days – like when I was pushing my bike through the sands of the Mozambique parks – when it’s flipping tough and you’re feeling crappy. Then you have to ask yourself, is it really that bad? I’ve been able to do this, I’ve chosen to do this, I’m not fighting a deadly disease.
The bike is bright pink and has the word Lettie written all over it. I think about Lettie every day.
I’m dedicating this ride to Lettie and I am also living this adventure. I want her to get the positive message; that’s what I get goosebumps about.
Diary of a Muzungu: So you’re a rugby fanatic! Tell me more.
Fat Kid: The Rugby World Cup in London 2015 gives me a date to work to, otherwise you could spend five years cycling through the whole of Africa.
After uni I played rugby in Australia for six months and then in Hong Kong. Four or five years ago, I set up a rugby tournament in South Africa. It’s an annual social rugby event that now has 100 teams competing.
I got to know Francois Pienaar through mutual friends. He is probably one of the most famous rugby players in South Africa. (He was captain of the Springboks rugby team at the 1995 World Cup, the famous rugby match that united the post-apartheid nation, made famous in the Clint Eastwood-directed film Invictus). Francois is my ambassador and Founding Chairman of the Mad ‘Make a Difference’ Foundation, who are doing a fundraising campaign around my trip.
Whatever route I take, I am going to cycle through Paris. On my last four or five days, Francois Pinard is going to cycle with me from Paris to London to the World Cup. There are many rugby lovers and South Africans in the UK, who I think will want to do the journey with us.
Hopefully, in my own little way, I can help to give Lettie strength. If I get to London and the Mad Foundation has raised 1 million rand as well, then I couldn’t be happier.
Diary of a Muzungu: How did you feel about being in Uganda when Mandela died?
I noticed the flags were at half-mast at the Ugandan parliament.
In some ways I wish I’d been in South Africa. From what people back home said, it was a mixture of feelings: sadness, but also a celebration of everything that was good about Mandela. Yes the country is mourning, but mourning together.
Like he did in ’95, and other times, Mandela has transcended everything, all the political crap and segregation that still exists in our society; not just black and white, but rich and poor. People talk about corruption in Uganda, but it is endemic in South Africa.
I wish Mandela had run the country longer. He was one of the only African leaders of that generation who gave up power voluntarily; that makes him unique too.
The week Mandela died, my African #HumanSpirit moment of the week was this: “Everyone I’ve met who has expressed their sympathy at the death of “Africa’s Father” or “Our Father”…it’s quite incredible the sheer number of times this happens a day.”
Diary of a Muzungu: How long did it take you to plan this trip?
In a sense, I’ve been planning this trip my whole life.
It took me six or seven months to actually plan this trip. I have put everything into this, literally. I’ve never been one to own a lot of stuff, so what I couldn’t sell, I gave to charity. I wasn’t going to pay money to put all my stuff in storage for two years.
The biggest decision was what kind of bike to buy. Now I’m on the road, I’m planning approximately 3 months ahead. Most of my planning is ‘visa driven’ that is to say it depends on getting visas to enter each country. For that I rely on a visa services company.
So, for example, while I am in Uganda, DHL will send my passport for South Sudan to Gulu. Once I’m out of Uganda I can send my second passport back to Cape Town to get the visa for the next countries: Eritrea and Sudan. I spent a few months planning the route and visas in advance. This is probably the best practical thing I did before I left, and no delays so far….
Diary of a Muzungu: How have you funded your trip?
Although cycling is a free way to travel, I spent all my savings buying the bike and setting it up for the trip. Whatever happened, I was leaving anyway. I’ve heard so many stories about people not having money and picking up sponsors along the way.
Once you are on the road, it really isn’t an expensive way of travelling. My budget is R200 or $20 a day. This covers visas and everything, including food, and accommodation, when I need it. Africa is not the cheapest place to travel by any means, but it’s a lot cheaper than just sitting on my couch in Cape Town. You know what I mean?
I have friends who have done well in business who helped me out. They said we can’t sell our businesses and put our wives on ice for two years. We can live our dream through you.
ABSA are my main sponsor. They sponsor the #HumanSpirit. [For them, what is a better example of the human spirit than someone cycling through every country in Africa to watch their rugby team – the Springboks – play in London?]
Diary of a Muzungu: What did you do before you embarked on this trip?
I’ve always been a bit of a restless soul.
I spent most of my career working in banking, in London. Next I set up a business and lived in Thailand for three years. Living in south-east Asia was a wonderful experience. Out of necessity, I then went back to banking, this time in Hong Kong for 3 years. Four or five years ago, I felt ready for a change so I went back to South Africa and set up the rugby tournament. It was fun but I wasn’t building anything for the future so I thought now is the ideal time for me to go and do what I want and to get it out of my system.
Diary of a Muzungu: Get it out of your system? Or ignite an even bigger flame? I asked.
The Fat Kid laughed.
Diary of a Muzungu: How do you keep in contact with everyone back home?
A GPS device records my location every day and this can be tracked on my website. I’m not a great writer, but I do record a few minutes about my experiences a few days of the week. Phone coverage has been surprisingly good. In fact, my family say they hear more from me than they ever thought they would.
After Diary of a Muzungu’s interview with Fat Kid on a Bike in Kampala
A few days after our interview, Ron cycled East to Jinja for some white water rafting with Nile River Explorers, and then North, passing through Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary at Nakasangola “my goodness was the rhino tracking another memorable wildlife experience!”
I told Ron he simply couldn’t miss Wild Frontiers’ breath-taking boat ride to the bottom of the falls in Murchison Falls National Park.
“The Murchison Falls boat ride will certainly go down as a highlight of not only my time in Uganda, but of my entire 5 and a half months on the road so far!”
We last spoke when Ron was in Gulu, planning to cycle into South Sudan. He sounded a little bit uncertain about what was happening next. I’m not surprised: leaving the Pearl of Africa and going into a war zone!
At the border, he commented on “the warm welcome, hospitality, and help received from the Ugandan soldiers based on the South Sudan border.”
Ron’s route was due to take him through Juba:
“I had to accept the very insistent advice of the UN, 50 km inside South Sudan, that to continue any further would be ‘completely reckless’, and I made the decision to back track to Uganda. Seeing for myself the human tragedy unfolding in South Sudan put a little cycle trip into real perspective.”
As a rule, Ron’s transcontinental route sees him exit a country using a different border to the one he enters the country; South Sudan was the first country – and let’s hope only country – where he failed to achieve this.
Ron sounded quite philosophical though:
“This is Africa, after all. I’m aware that things can change at any time.”
Of this experience, he said:
What I will try never take for granted again: the freedom of travel within and between countries. After having to make an abrupt UN enforced U-turn in South Sudan, to having to re-route through Ethiopia and Sudan to get to Eritrea from Djibouti, to the headaches I’m now having in plotting a way across Sudan through Darfur to Chad, it has made me realise the incredible privilege it is to be able to travel and cycle freely across and (even with the hassle of visas sometimes) between most countries.
If you’d like to keep up with Ron’s trip on the remaining year of his journey, visit the Fat Kid on a Bike website or Facebook page. He writes weekly updates and you can follow him on the map.
As Kingsley Holgate reminded me during a long liquid meeting before I left, this expedition ‘isn’t about the bike’, but rather ‘an epic African adventure which you happen to be doing on a bicycle’ – a huge difference!
As we said goodbye, Ron invited me to accompany him on a leg of his trip. How I would LOVE to! (I wonder if I can make it to West Africa in time to meet him?)
If not West Africa, we might have to wait until London 2015… my dad is a rugby fan(atic) too and I have a feeling he will be enjoying the #HumanSpirit watching the Springboks play at Twickenham rugby grounds in August 2015!
Safari to the centre of the solar system – can you eclipse that?
Safari to the centre of the solar system – can you eclipse that?
The Muzungu simply couldn’t pass on the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see a Hybrid Solar Eclipse in Uganda.
“Now you see me …. now you don’t” protective welder’s mask courtesy of Patrick Okaba, Daily Monitor journalist from Nebbi
I’m not usually stuck for words, but even now I’m struggling to describe those 22 seconds of my life: watching the sun – our whole world – temporarily obliterated by the moon. Not only was it dazzlingly beautiful, I thought my heart was going to stop!
Uganda’s NTV neatly summed up the Hybrid Solar Eclipse – but you had to be in Pokwero, in the District of Pakwach, to feel the excitement!
All roads lead to…. Pakwach!
“The total solar eclipse is only going to be visible at an angle of 17°,” explained John the physics teacher from ISU, as he, his wife Leslie and I drove north from Kampala to Pakwach.
All roads lead to…. Pakwach!
Here on the Equator, it gets dark around 6.30 in the evening, all year round. The Eclipse was due at 5.22 p.m. so the sun would be low in the sky: would we be able to see above each other’s heads to view the eclipse, the Muzungu wondered?
Halfway from Kampala to our destination, we stopped at the newish Kabalega Diner for a break. We were the only visitors when I first passed through a year ago. This time I was amazed to see the car park full of minibuses and the Diner jampacked full of Japanese tourists eating burgers and chips. Is this what Uganda might look like one day? Is this the way we want Uganda to look in the future? I ponder how mass tourism would look in a Uganda of the future. And will the Muzungu still love Uganda the same way?
We were intrigued to find out where the group were from. It had taken them two days to travel from Japan: to experience the Eclipse and then go on Safari in Murchison Falls.
“I just hope it won’t be cloudy tomorrow!” The Japanese tourist told me. “But what can we do?”
Mordechai welcomed us to Pakuba Lodge, Murchison Falls National Park
On arrival at Pakuba Lodge, Murchison Falls National Park, we had a wonderful, warm welcome from the towering Mordechai, who very graciously looked after us all weekend. (There was something of the filmstar about Mordechai!) No photo – sorry.
Pakuba Lodge, Murchison Falls National Park
Early evening, ISU student Fabien and I saw three Grey Hornbills and my first Silverbird next to the Lodge.
An eclipse! And ticks for my birdlist too! The Muzungu was in seventh heaven…
Approximately 70 of us stayed at Pakuba Lodge on Saturday night, a number of us opting to camp. Simon Peter, the very charming UWA Ranger visited each tent to reassure us that he would protect us from leopards and scorpions. (Check your shoes, campers!)
“Wake me up if you see a Leopard!” I told him (like I was going to get any sleep anyway…)
Why? Because the Muzungu’s experience shall go down in the annals of camping as “How not to camp.” I knew my strategy of improvising for missing parts of the tent might backfire… The floating toothbrush that welcomed me when I unzipped the tent shamed this former Venture Scout! Luckily I had a plastic cup to bail out “Lake Pakuba,” the huge puddle in one corner of my tent, and spent the night lying rigid on a tiny dry island of sleeping mat, scared I might tip myself into said Lake, while another heavy rain storm threatened overhead.
Meet the Eclipse Chaser!
One of the highlights of the weekend was meeting Kryss Katsiavriades, an ‘eclipse chaser’, in Uganda to see his 14th solar Eclipse. He was a mine of information.
Uganda’s Annular-Total (or Hybrid) Solar Eclipse of 3 November 2013 is one of the rarest types of eclipses, described in detail on Kryss’ excellent website.
Map showing the maximum duration of the total solar eclipse, which was found along the centre, middle blue line – slap bang through Pokwero / Pakwach and Gulu.
Kryss told us that “This kind of solar eclipse happens somewhere in the world every 400 years. It’s calculated that it will be another 400 years before Uganda sees a similar type of Eclipse. I don’t think even Museveni will be in power by then!”
At breakfast, the morning of the eclipse, Kryss Katsiavriades and the Muzungu greeted the Minister for Tourism, Maria Mutagamba, also overnighting at Pakuba Lodge.
Kryss explained to the Minister that the last time we saw an Eclipse in the UK was in 1999.
“But it was in Germany!” Interrupted a German tourist. Our historical arguments travel with us: the British and the Germans argue, lightheartedly, over ‘who owned the eclipse of 1999.’ (The Muzungu experienced the U.K.’s eclipse of 1999, in Glasgow. All that happened was an already grey sky went a bit greyer! Typically Glaswegian).
Chasing the Eclipse
Across the river in Pakwach, is a very different Uganda to the one I’m used to. I’m intrigued.
I admit this is the first time I’ve crossed Kafu Bridge, over the Albert Nile. There are few cars, few motorbikes and little advertising. The only brick buildings are shops. Geometrically thatched, round bandas proliferate. Most activity takes place in the shade of big trees. Smoked, filleted fish are spread out for sale. It’s very hot and very dusty.
I worry how many people are going to damage their eyes this afternoon attempting to view the eclipse. As we drive down the main street of Pakwach, you can sense eclipse fever.
It was a competition to see how many cameras, phones, goggles and miscellaneous protective eye gear, one could use simultaneously!
A man holds dark sunglasses up to the sun. A boy holds a floppy disk, and another looks through a piece of smoked glass. Outside the stationer’s shop, two young men unfurl the unused film from a canister. Most people are trying solutions that I’ve read are dangerous.
I feel like we are on a film set
“We are now in the path of totality,” Kryss announces as we ‘eat the dust’ of a pickup truck full of 20 or more local people in their Sunday best clothes, beaming and ululating as they bounce down the road ahead of us.
In a country of red dusty roads, have I ever seen them this red? Have they ever been this dusty? We’re heading to the middle of nowhere; international Hollywood stars Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have flown into Uganda just for the event [just a rumour I think! I don’t know anyone who actually saw them!] President Museveni and entourage are coming to Pokwero – and there’s a huge sense of anticipation.
International Hollywood filmstars Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie flew into Uganda just for the solar eclipse (apparently)
It all feels rather odd.
High security is in evidence. We pass soldiers by the side of the road, and follow a truck full of police to the viewing site at Owiny Primary School, Pokwero.
Diary of a Muzungu in the security line for the solar eclipse viewing at Owiny Primary School, Pokwero, Uganda
“2 degrees, 33 minutes and 11 seconds,” announces Kryss.
“And that means…?” Asks Fred the driver.
“It means a little bit further on and we will get to where we have maximum duration of the total solar eclipse.”
Ooooooo, it’s really happening!
The maximum duration of totality is found along the centre, middle blue line.
Kryss has frequently appeared on TV and radio in his global eclipse-chasing quest. True to form, we’ve only just parked our vehicle when an interviewer from Channel 44 approaches Kryss with a camera.
Kryss tells Channel 44 viewers: “The sun is the giver of all life on this planet, and to see it extinguished and the day turning into night, and to see the stars and planets in the middle of the day, is something that you will never forget.”
‘Muzungu Blogger of the Eclipse’ touches down in Pokwero
It had been announced that President Museveni was to be ‘Chief Viewer of the Eclipse’.
‘Muzungu Blogger of the Solar Eclipse’ touches down in Pokwero, Uganda
The eclipse was a great showcase for putting Northern Uganda on the tourist map but the country’s usual last-minute preparations realistically meant that only dedicated Eclipse chasers who had done their own research chose to visit Uganda for the eclipse. Many went to Kenya. Many went to West Africa. Some hired boats and went out into the Atlantic to view the solar Eclipse.
The King of Alur and the Omukama (Traditional King) of Bunyoro ventured to Pokwero, as did the newly crowned Miss Tourism Uganda.
Huge crowds waiting to view Uganda’s Solar Eclipse at Owiny Primary School, Pokwero, Pakwach
There was no escaping the party politics as we sat sweating in white plastic chairs, grateful at least for the protection from the glaring hot afternoon sun of 35° or more. The hours passed slowly: listening to welcomes, ‘laying the foundation stone’ on the rather unimaginative Eclipse Memorial, political speeches, schoolchildren dancing and singing, hymns and the national anthem, twice.
- Traditional dancers entertained the crowd waiting to view Uganda’s Solar Eclipse at Owiny Primary School, Pokwero, Pakwach
I feel sorry for the uneducated person who might actually believe that the government had organised the Eclipse just for Museveni ‘The President of the Eclipse’s entertainment.
To paraphrase one of the speakers, apparently “God chose Uganda for this hybrid solar Eclipse, an event that only happens every 400 years. It’s no coincidence that it’s taking place during the reign of the NRM regime…” i.e. God planned the Eclipse in Uganda in 2013 thanks to the NRM. (Obvious really).
Cue the real stars of the show
Mostly attentive until that point, come 4 o’clock every spectator picked up their chair and turned their back on the President and the dignitaries to view the real stars of the show: the partially eclipsed Sun and the Moon.
The excitement was contagious. We passed around special eclipse glasses and sunglasses customised with camera film, and shared the Ministry of Tourism’s viewing filters with local children. We didn’t speak the same language, but we were all in awe of what was happening in the skies above us.
- IT WAS HOT! And the day of the eclipse the skies overhead were vividly coloured all day
It was a huge party. Did I mention it was HOT?!
A message came through from Kampala
The partial eclipse was due to last just over two hours. After a few minutes, people started getting bored, waiting and waiting for the total eclipse. Some of them wandered off.
Clouds covered the sun!
Oh no, perhaps, the Japanese tourists was right? Kryss had reassured me that even if it was cloudy, the experience would still be memorable. The MC switched on the microphone and told everyone not to go home.
“Many clouds?” read the SMS from Kampala.
“Oh bog off,” I replied (although perhaps not quite that politely).
Friends in Kampala said they “couldn’t be bothered” to travel all the way up to Pokwero. Couldn’t be bothered to have this once-in-a-lifetime experience? I was dammed if clouds were going to spoil my eclipse experience while they sat smugly in Kampala.
Captivated by the sight of the partial solar eclipse
Despite the clouds, the light was a magical golden colour. The clouds were beautiful too.
Hashers of the Eclipse – we should have had a Circle in Pokwero!
The competition for the maximum number of cameras, phones, goggles and miscellaneous protective eye gear is hotting up!
We were back on track and I could feel the excitement grow you as the skies darkened on the countdown to the total eclipse.
Hashers of the Eclipse part 2 – we should have had a Circle in Pokwero! The competition for the maximum number of cameras, phones, goggles and miscellaneous protective eye gear is hotting up!
We watched the sun – our whole world – temporarily obliterated by the moon.
Not only was it dazzlingly beautiful, I thought my heart was going to stop!
Uganda’s total solar eclipse. Photo taken with fisheye lens by Lukasz
And then darkness!
Diary of a Muzungu’s very amateur photo of Uganda’s hybrid solar eclipse, Pokwero. Apparently a good first attempt, according to Kryss, the astronomer!
(It was just 5.30 pm in the afternoon…)
Diary of a Muzungu’s very amateur photo of the Diamond Ring, visible for just a second or two after the total eclipse, as the sun bursts back into normal view from behind the moon. Apparently a good first attempt, according to Kryss, the astronomer!
I’d been thinking about the solar eclipse non-stop for a few days by then. I couldn’t sleep, I was so excited! In those few magical seconds, my brain and emotions worked hard to process what I was seeing.
A close-up of Uganda’s total solar eclipse 2013. Photo courtesy of John McDonald.
None of the photos do justice to how amazing the solar eclipse looked with the naked eye: pink and alive!
Can you imagine seeing ‘flames’ on the surface of the sun with your naked eye? These ‘flames’ were huge bursts of flammable gas the size of a small country!
Diamond ring and chromosphere. A close-up of Uganda’s total solar eclipse 2013. Photo courtesy of John McDonald.
Imagine getting your best exam results ever, on your birthday, with a firework display in the background and falling in love – all at the same moment … and then someone punches you in the chest! You realise that this thing that you’ve been aching to see could be your terminal undoing, the end of not just your life, but of everyone and everything you hold dear.
The end of the world.
Diamond ring and chromosphere. A close-up of Uganda’s total solar eclipse 2013. Photo courtesy of John McDonald.
And then it was over. 22 seconds of my life that I shall never forget, and shall always struggle to articulate.
As the moon continued its trajectory away from the sun, there was a blinding flash ‘the diamond ring’ effect, as the sun re-emerged. Totally spectacular.
Within seconds, the sky was lit up again, and life went back to normal … for a while.
I understood with utmost clarity how people can become Eclipse chasers. Apparently NASA’s head meteorologist (who apparently saw just 10 seconds of the eclipse; when the clouds obscured the sun, his group packed up their kit to try and find a better viewing spot – and almost missed the whole thing!) There was no sign of ‘Brangelina’ in Pokwero. Apparently they were in Gulu.
The next total eclipse in Africa is on July 22, 2027 in Egypt. See you there?
A special thank you to John and Leslie McDonald and ISU Lubowa staff, Fabien the birder, Kryss Katsiavriades and Roman Kostenko the amateur astronomers, and Simon Peter, Mordechai, Connie and all the staff at Pakuba Lodge. Last but not least, a big, nocturnal thank you to Uganda Wildlife Authority’s Conservation Area Manager Tom Okello – who helped rescue dozens of vehicles from a flooded swamp on our way back to the lodge! A weekend I’ll never forget…
Did you see the Hybrid Solar Eclipse in Uganda? How did it make you feel?
On my knees again: an audience with the Bunyoro King
Bunyoro Kingdom – Empango Celebrations inauguration run, Hoima, Uganda
De Muzungu’s developed a taste for hanging out with Ugandan Royals recently, so when I heard Kampala Hash House Harriers – the Hash – were (dis)organising the Bunyoro Kingdom’s Empango Celebrations inauguration run, my name was first on the list!
11th June 2013 marked the 19th anniversary of the coronation of Omukama (King) Iguru Gafabusa Solomon the 1st of Bunyoro Kitara Kingdom, so the inauguration run (two days before the actual Empango) was one event I couldn’t let pass me by…
It was only to be expected: for one reason or another, the bus left Kampala for Hoima two hours late.
Just as we were ready to leave, someone asked “where’s the driver?”
“He’s gone to Friday prayers” came the answer.
Eh banange! Only in Uganda.
As we left Buganda Kingdom and crossed the Mayanja River into Bunyoro, Harriet explained that “Kabalega was a real King who fought for his kingdom. He didn’t just sit on a red carpet.” We were to hear his name mentioned many times on our trip to Bunyoro.
The only way off the bus is to drink the beer first! Empango inauguration run, Hoima
The fact our bus was only half full meant there was more than enough beer to drink. “If you can’t dance sleeping, you can dance standing ” and so the party bus danced its way from Kampala to Hoima.
Pump action. Harriet eagerly watched the dial on the petrol pump go round, making sure we didn’t waste a shilling of beer money on unnecessary fuel
We’d been at the petrol station 20 minutes before we realised there was no petrol. Tewali! (Nothing!)
The second petrol station was also empty.
Third time lucky, we landed at a “wind-up petrol station.”
We arrived in Hoima, Bunyoro Kingdom, at dusk
Surprise, surprise, most of us missed Friday’s ‘Red Dress’ Hash run around Hoima. Stopping seven times along the way for ‘short calls’, snacks, chatting up the ladies, more beer, muchomo roasted meat, etc tends to do that to your programme. The three plus hour journey took twice that long.
Mural of the traditional marwa drink that is shared and sipped with straws from a calabash. Scene at the – more cheap than cheerful – Riviera Hotel, Hoima, Uganda
Saturday morning started with a visit to the Karuziika, the Omukama’s Palace, a modern looking house (Brits, think Surrey suburbs!) with some traditional Bunyoro huts being (re)built in the compound, in preparation for the Empango Celebrations on June 11th. [Great time for the camera to fail, part 1].
We were welcomed by the hugely knowledgeable Permanent Secretary (PPS) who commended us for our “exercise to combat modern lifestyle diseases.” That made me feel a bit sheepish. (Had no-one mentioned that the Hash is ‘a drinking club with a running problem?’)
Throne Room at the Karuziika, Bunyoro Kingdom Palace Uganda. Look how well-behaved we can be! Empango Celebrations inauguration run, Hoima
Earlier we’d been invited into the Throne Room. Excited Hashers – ordered to leave smelly trainers and drinks outside – were asked to sit on the assorted lion and leopardskins lying on the floor as the PPS introduced us to the Bunyoro Kingdom’s history as traders, hunters and metalworkers. He briefly flicked up a corner of the ceremonial bark cloth so we could have a peek at the nine-legged throne / stool.
I’m hooked on the Bunyoro cultural history. “The empire was built and lost on ivory” he told us, as we heaved a heavy elephant tusk around our group. He pointed out the spearholes in the lionskins beneath us. The huge lion paws were still intact and there was a discernible smell of (big) cat. As for leopard “there are only two ways to kill one,” he said, “with a club or by strangling it.” (This advice obviously predates the invention of AK47s!)
We heard that the King has just returned from China – nothing to do with ivory I hope? I first arrived in Uganda to work for the Uganda Conservation Foundation, essentially combating poaching and protecting elephants, and there I was sitting on dead animal skins, passing around an elephant’s tusk … !
Oil looms large over Hoima, Bunyoro, Uganda. Hashers stop at a checkpoint
As we Hashed (ran/walked) into Hoima town, I chatted to someone from the local radio station about Hoima’s new status as Uganda’s Oil City. Definitely a case of the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer. He told me stories of people relocating. Some have come to Hoima to seek their fortune, others have had to move out of town as their 60,000 Uganda shillings monthly rent has increased to a whopping 200,000 UGX. Ow.
Hoima market scene, similar to many across Uganda, is set to change with the construction of a new purpose-built market centre. Growth in Hoima is fuelled by the developing oil industry.
The town’s growth is fueled by Uganda’s developing oil industry. The Hoima market scene, for example, similar to many across Uganda, is set to change with the construction of a new purpose-built market centre.
The walk to Lake Albert down the steep Rift Valley Escarpment takes around one hour. Better take a boda, especially coming back up!
Saturday afternoon’s trip to see the oil wells wasn’t what I expected. Silly me, fancy expecting to see oil wells on your trip to see the oil wells! In the end, the impromptu boda boda trip down the steep escarpment, passing the modest Kabalega Falls on our way down to Lake Albert, was one of the highlights of the weekend. Impassable by vehicle, the loose gravel and hairpin bends made it a hair-raising descent. To be honest, coming up was even scarier, especially when we met this guy and his jerry can collection as (three of us on a boda) were struggling to negotiate a tight corner.
Better take a boda coming back up the Rift Valley Escarpment!
The smell of drying fish hit us as we approached the village of Kibero.
It felt like we’d landed in an alien country. There were no vehicles, just a few bodas (making the most of the unexpected day tripper BONANZA) and no advertising (thus little colour). Neither were there any food stalls, market vendors or rubbish in the dirt roads. It all seemed very strange. There are hundreds of Ugandan villages cut off from the rest of the world but this one was different somehow, just a collection of drab sun-dried mud houses, piles of fish drying in the sun, ducks, people sitting on doorsteps. [Great time for the camera to fail, part 2].
On the beach – not a slot machine or ice cream van in sight – dozens of excited kids posed for photographs with the Lake Albert backdrop.
The remote Kibero fishing village, Lake Albert. You have to love Ugandan kids, always a beautiful smile for the camera.
Back in Hoima, Saturday evening’s programme was a special audience with the Omukama at the Palace.
All the ladies had on their best dresses. (Rumour had it that the Omukama would pick One Lucky Lady as his next wife! So we all kneeled dutifully when a Hashette tipped us the nod.) The Omukama looked very dignified, although the corporate branding across the front of his tent slightly overshadowed the traditional nature of the occasion. What next? “Bunyori Kingdom sponsored by Tullow”. Sigh. Pragmatically, oil has to be the best thing to happen to the Kingdom this century, as the minister of information, Bunyoro Kitara Kingdom, confirms in Uganda: Bunyoro is regaining her glory.
On the search for Mparo Tombs – the tombs of Kabelaga and his descendants
Recap: so, on Friday we’d missed seeing Katasiha Fort and on Saturday we’d missed seeing the oil wells… next stop (would we find it?) Mparo Tombs, “historical site rehabilitated by the Uganda People’s Defence Forces [the army] in honour of Kabalega in recognition of his struggle against colonialism.”
In 2009, Kabalega of Bunyoro was declared a national hero by President Yoweri Museveni and honoured with a three-gun salute for his nine-year resistance against the British colonialists.
Kabalega is said to be ‘the last great king of one of the greatest kingdoms in the Great Lakes region,’ and is buried at Mparo. Unfortunately, we didn’t get inside the grass thatched traditional hut that is Kabalega’s Tomb.
Sir Tito Winy’s Tomb is encased in concrete inside a modern structure. It is covered with a huge cowhide, fixed in place with nine traditional hoes. Mparo, Hoima
The traditional huts of the Bunyoro Tombs are very similar to the Buganda Kingdom’s famous Kasubi Tombs – showing Bunyoro descendence from Buganda.
The Kasubi Tombs burned down in 2010. (2014: rebuilding of Kasubi Tombs is underway).
“The man with the key is gone” but we were at least shown the grounds by ‘the heiress’ – one of Kabalega’s descendants.
Luckily we had Harriet to translate for us!
Paint it pink and I’d eat it. Les reads the plaque on the rather weather-battered wedding cake cum monument
The monument marks the spot where in 1877 Kabalega granted an audience to Emin Pasha.
“When Emin Pasha came face-to-face with the Omukama (King) for the first time, Kabalega was dressed in a piece of fine orange-pink coloured bark cloth. It covered his body to his breast except the left-hand shoulder, over which was thrown a piece of darker coloured bark cloth. He wore a necklace of hairs from the giraffe’s tail, the middle of which was strung a single blue glass bead, which encircled his neck. He was strikingly fair and about 5 feet, 10 inches tall. He made the most favourable impression on Emin Pasha.”
A.R. Dunbar, “Uganda’s famous men series: Omukama Chwa 11, Kabalega” (East African literature Euro 1965).
Money offering left outside Sir Tito Winy’s Tomb. Sir Tito Winy was the heir to Kabalega
Writing this blog has given me a real interest in Kabalega and Emin Pasha. I’m pretty dumbfounded by what I’ve read. Between them they changed the course of history for millions of people, numerous kingdoms and several countries. How have I been in Uganda almost five years and hardly learned about them? (Visiting Kampala’s rather posh Emin Pasha Hotel hardly counts!)
Girls paying our respects at Kabalega’s Tomb, Mparo, Bunyoro Uganda
Kneeling for the camera was my idea of fooling around. If I’d known what I’ve read today, I would have done it with more respect.
Julia receives a roadside benediction from what appeared to be a Chineseman made out of recycled metal. What’s this all about?
A few kilometres outside Hoima, we came across some disused ornamental fountains. Another fountain featured a metal bird. Some interesting colonial type buildings lay derelict next to them. I can imagine this all being snapped up and turned into a bijou coffeeshop when the real oil money starts pouring into town. Andrew Roberts, co-editor of the epic Bradt Uganda guide, what is this all about?
All in all, another brilliant Uganda week-end for Diary of a Muzungu. It’s a shame we didn’t hang around for the real royal Empango celebrations. Apparently 200,000 people partied for three days! Photos of the official Empango celebrations
The Omukama at the 2013 Empango celebrations in Bunyoro Kitara Kingdom, Uganda
2014 will mark the 20th anniversary of the Omukama’s coronation, guess who’s planning to attend?
For more Ugandan royal stories, read A wedding fit for a king.
If you like African bus journey tales, you might enjoy No hurry in Africa: on board the bus Kampala to Kigali and Kampala to Nairobi – 14 hours of speed bumps
“No hurry in Africa” – journey by bus from Kampala to Kigali
On board the bus from Kampala, Uganda to Kigali, Rwanda. The muzungu’s travel tips
I didn’t understand much but the salesman’s words “Tsunami in the vagina” and aggressive pelvic thrusting into the bus seat next to him somehow caught my attention.
This guy should have been on the stage: the traveling salesman who literally travels as he travels, walking up and down the aisle of the bus from Kampala to Kigali, working the crowd, proffering samples and chucking out sweets to an enrapt audience of hecklers. How I wished I understood Luganda at that moment!
I remember him on my previous bus from Kampala to Kigali (en route to Kinigi, home of Rwanda’s mountain gorillas): the man who insisted we keep the bus windows open all night – and later proceeded to sell us cold remedies! [Note dear reader: this time he was promoting Chinese Royal Jelly – though I can’t confirm its libido effects!]
Blink or you’ll miss it…. without warning, the bus pulls over for a rare and impromptu stop for a ‘short call’. I choose my bush carefully. As I get comfy, a girl appears to sit down 10 feet away from me. So much for privacy. There’s a bump, bump, bump to my left as a man pedals downhill towards us, empty green jerry cans banging his bicycle seat as he passes over the bumpy path. (Did I say something about privacy?)
Show over, we return to the bus, and a pair of crutches emerges from the bushes, followed by a young girl. I’ll come to see a lot of people on crutches over my next few days in Rwanda and Burundi. I wonder at their stories, but daren’t ask.
A vicar in a pale blue shirt climbs on the bus, surrounded by men brandishing sticks of greasy meat ‘muchomo.’
“They wanted to drive without you” the girl next to me says as I squeeze myself back into my seat. (I’m sure the legroom has shrunk while I was behind that bush).
Back on the bus from Kampala to Kigali, Rwanda’s capital, we wind through the lush green hills and villages up to the border. I gaze out of the window. Matooke, matooke, matooke, as far as the eye can see. A young child in pink gum boots plays with a long stick in the mud. Two women walk across a field, bundles of babies tied around their middles, little feet sticking out either side of their waist. Too cute!
We slow to negotiate the slippery marram dirt roads and here – in the middle of nowhere and then a bit – a traffic jam! Bored, I jump out of the bus to stretch my legs, not realising the disaster that lies ahead of us. I march down towards the crowd by the river and 200 people turn around to me. I approach, camera in hand.
“Are you the photographer?” everyone asks as the Muzungu surveys the scene: a flooded river and an overturned truck, blocking the road to Rwanda. International Super Highway? Judge for yourself.
An employment opportunity presents itself: “Muzungu, I carry you for 1000 shillings!”
No mate, you have to pay ME for that particular public humiliation. (The thought of all those people laughing at the Muzungu being carried across the river, I don’t think so!) Oh what a spoilsport the Muzungu is, denying the villagers a good laugh…
They want me to believe how easy it will be to get a boda boda to the border a few kilometres away then jump on another bus at the border. I’m not rushing; I’m here to watch how this one unfolds.
We hang around eating huge chunks of fresh jackfruit (only 200 shillings in this part of the world!) as men unload the useless sodden bags of cement from the overturned lorry. “At least they can’t steal it!” Someone says.
I prepare for a night on the bus. Many people have abandoned ship and opted for the 1000 shilling piggyback ride but I stretch out on three seats. I’ve had three hours sleep the night before, sharing a single bed with a visiting onion farmer, and now it’s time for a zizz (sleep). Who cares if we’ll be eaten alive overnight by mosquitoes if we stay here next to the swamp? For now I’m in luxury!
To lose three hours in Africa is nothing, and I’m surprised (disappointed?) when from my slumber I hear a huge cheer as the lorry is winched back upright.
Time to move.
As we approach the border, a few minutes later, a man next to me opens a photo album of identity cards and ponders: “Tonight Matthew I’m going to be…” (a joke for the Brits, sorry…)
A man in an ill-fitting suit carries just one possession, his Kinyarwanda English dictionary.
At immigration, I ingratiate myself with every staff member, regardless of their nationality, in the hope they’ll remember my smiling Muzungu face upon my return.
I panic when I hear the revving of a bus engine. Perhaps the bus driver really does mean to leave me behind this time? And I recognise our luggage, strewn under a tree, bags being searched – not for bombs – but for cavera (plastic bags), illegal in Rwanda. I’m very nicely ordered to jettison mine, ready for the next adventure: Rwanda!
For more dramatic photos of the scene that greeted us, see the Diary of a Muzungu Facebook album.
Here are a few of my travel tips for bus travel from Kampala to Kigali:
- I don’t trust the driving skills of a man who puts all his faith in God, sorry. ‘Inshallah’ written in huge letters on the front window just doesn’t cut it with me. Check out the driver before you get into any vehicle. If he stinks of booze, get out!
- I travelled with Jaguar Executive Coaches. Expect to pay around 70,000 Uganda shillings (PRICE CORRECT April 2024). Buy the day before or just before departure. Early booking means you can choose your seat (recommended!) Call +256 (0)414 251855 or (0)782 811 128 for information. Visit Jaguar Executive Coach’s Facebook page for directions to their bus park in Kampala.
- On my return bus trip from Kigali to Kampala, I used Baby Coach. The fare was the same as Jaguar. You can pay in Rwandan francs or Uganda shillings, even in Kigali. Their office is in Nyabugogo bus park, Kigali.
- Where to sit in the bus: don’t even think of sitting over the back wheels. The Muzungu has endured this experience so you don’t have to! Read ‘Kampala to Nairobi by bus: 14 hours of speed humps’ for the reasons why.
- Does the bus have curtains? If not, you might want to sit on the side away from the sun or you’ll get burned, or at least uncomfortably hot.
- Always take mosquito repellent – you never know when you might need it.
- Always bring more water than you need – you never know where you’re going to end up!
- Bring water but try not to drink it! Apart from the unplanned stop and the border, we only stopped very briefly twice in eight plus hours of travel.
- Bring that horrible disinfectant hand gel stuff. If you’re lucky enough to find any real toilets en route, they are grim / have no running water / no soap.
- Take ear plugs and/or music. You might enjoy the person behind you singing loudly to their radio? I don’t.
For more of the Muzungu moaning about fellow travelers, read A short-tempered muzungu flies to Istanbul
Do you have any bus travel tips to share? I’d love to hear them!
Yes, we have no bananas
“Yes, we have no bananas” a song that could have been written in celebration of Uganda’s favourite fast food
Two hands of bananas guide us on our road trip
Bananas require no preparation, no refrigeration – and they’re cheap; just reach out your arm and you’ll find one – in villages, along the roadside, in the corner shop and balanced in wide baskets on ladies’ heads amongst the traffic jams in downtown Kampala.
I’m not a mathematician but … if Uganda were an equation, surely: matoke + boda boda = UG?
Baby Dillon can eat four sweet bananas for breakfast!
I arrived at Julia’s homestay on the edge of Kibale Forest plastered in banana – they were everywhere I looked. Fresh bananas were ‘ever waiting’ for the guests at Julia’s. We brought them with us from Kampala too, although they quickly turned brown in the hot car.
Three days in the Bush, all banana’d out, we point the car in the direction of the crater lakes of Fort Portal and pass a lady selling fruit under a tree.
“Would you like some more bananas?” Julia asks.
“No thanks.”
I may well have eaten a banana too many. I tell you what love, I’ll tell you where you can stick your bananas.
And from 1923, a song by Louis Prima that sticks in my head as stubbornly as banana puree clings to my once-clean trousers ….
*Check your sound’s on*
1, 2, 3 let’s sing along to: “Yes, we have no Bananas”…
It’s run by a Greek
And he keeps good things to eat but you should hear him speak!
When you ask him anything, he never answers “no”
He just “yes”es you to death, and as he takes your dough he tells you
“Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
Cabashes, and scallions,
And all sorts of fruit and say
We have an old fashioned tomato
A Long Island potato but yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today”
When he got them in the store, there was fun, you bet
Someone asked for “sparrow grass” and then the whole quartet
All answered “Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today
Those walnuts and doughnuts
There ain’t many nuts like they
We’ll sell you two kinds of red herring,
Dark brown, and ball-bearing
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today
Yes, I don’t think we got soup or pie
You gotta coconut pie?
Yes, I don’t think we got coconut pie
Well I’ll have one cup a coffee
We gotta no coffee
Then watta you got?
I got a banana!
Oh you’ve got a banana!
Hey, Mary Anna, you gotta… gotta no banana?
Why this man, he’s no believe-a what I say… no… he no believe me…
Now whatta you wanta mister? You wanna buy twelve for a quarter?
Well, just a one of a look, I’m gonna call for my daughter
Hey, Mary Anna You gotta piana
Yes, a banana, no
Yes, we gotta no bananas today!
That we are entirely out of the fruit in question
The afore-mentioned vegetable bearing the cognomen “Banana“
We might induce you to accept a substitute less desirable,
But that is not the policy at this internationally famous green grocery
I should say not. No no no no no no no
But may we suggest that you sample our five o’clock tea
Which we feel certain will tempt your pallet?
However we regret that after a diligent search
Of the premises By our entire staff
We can positively affirm without fear of contradiction
That our raspberries are delicious; really delicious
Very delicious but we have no bananas today.
