Now you see him now you don't...

On the white water rafting trip in Uganda we were entertained by our very experienced yet very funny guide, Peter. A local Ugandan with an extraordinary funny sense of humor and a possible career in stand-up comedy should the rivers in Africa one day dry up. You can imagine that he obviously had a lot to say when we fell off and he stayed on. We managed a few rapids well but usually lost a person or two on most, sometime toppling the whole raft losing everyone, including the guide. He usually stayed on top or got back on first and pulled us in like we were castaways. While under his usual jesting comments we approached the last rapid. Being warned that we were guaranteed to go down on this one and end up in Cairo, we expected the worse. We cleared the rather tame rapid with ease, but when we looked back, he was gone! It was absolutely hilarious.....

Fortunately now I have the pictures to prove it. Guide-less and with priceless evidence!

The Nile Special - The Grand Finale

Last year September I wrote about my white water rafting experience in Uganda with Nile River Explorers. Despite the fantastic experience I did mention that I was rather disappointed about the photographs that was sold for a astronomical amount compared to the costs of the actual rafting. I decided to send a letter afterwards to Nile River Explorers to explain my dissatisfaction with the new photography selling policy. Mark from NRE Operations got back to me. He was blissfully unaware of this new arrangement and told me he will look into it as the photographer was actually from another company. After I told him that our guide could also have been a stand-up comedian, he knew exactly on which raft I was and said he will get back to me.

That was basically the last I heard from Mark. I just imagine that he either did not follow up or the photographer did not want to sell it for cheaper. 

In December I got an email from Mark:

Hi Justasurferdude, hope you are well.

The photo CD of your rafting trip, that we sent you in September, has been returned to us as “unclaimed”.

The address we used was,....

I nearly fell off my chair. Not only did he reply after 3 months, he actually send the pictures to my signature address on my email. But what was even more amazing was the fact that the CD arrived in South Africa, was send back and reached Uganda again.We are talking about Africa here, this stuff only happens in First World countries. I was absolute amazed, but also very disappointment at the same time. We discussed other postal options and he finally told me that one of their crew members are coming to Cape Town for a week and he will deliver it to me mid-February.

On the 25th of February I send a mail:

Mark

I have not heard from Jacques or Celia. I assume they could not find time to deliver?

Regards

His reply:

Hi Justasurferdude, oh dear.

(Excuse me while I put my head on the desk and weep!)

Jacques and Celia arrive back in Uganda today, so I will find out what happened.

Sorry about that, but I will get back to you.

That same afternoon I wrote:

STOP THE CLOCK!!!!

Mark, this is absolutely amazing. Yesterday I thought about the photo’s and send the email. They have just arrived at the reception!!!

Please stop weeping, lift your head and feel proud because I now can only add this to a story I tell many times that was already wonderful. You guys are amazing!!

Thanks so much again, I will promote your business and good name wherever I travel. So much appreciated!

Regards

Justasurferdude

Minutes after I received his mail the CD arrived at our reception. It had been posted a week before from Malmesbury a town close to Cape Town. 

It is amazing to know that some people still care. They go the extra mile not because there is anything in it for them, but just because they are good decent people. I think I will delete my "disappointment" part from my first post and change it to "most memorable" part.

Thanks to the guys at Nile River Explores.

The Nile Special

The flight from Johannesburg arrived at Entebbe at 7pm. The 120 km drive to Jinja where the Nile exits Lake Victoria took 4 hours to complete. As the gates at the Nile River Explorers camp opened someone was ramming a perfectly roadworthy SUV into a semi-demolished brick building. A cheering crowd of young shirtless travelers made sure they had the event captured for posting on YouTube later, most of them wearing a flag of some sort around their necks. We've arrived at our destination but we clearly missed out on the party. After 15 hours of travel I was not going to join in now. I downed one Nile Special just to check out the scene but more particular to make sure that I don't have any of the current party goers on the same raft as me the next morning. Apparently rafting and seasickness goes hand in hand for some and I was sure in this case they were all going to be "some" tomorrow.

The next morning at 7 I was awaken by the call of a Fish Eagle and monkeys playing in the trees. I got up and started looking for a place to charge my phone. The tent that I slept in had no electricity due to the SUV's destruction work the previous night. Kicking a path open through the cans and empty beer bottles I managed to find a working wall socket. Four die-hard survivors from the previous night's party were still sipping on their last beers. I was rather relieved to hear that they were "overlanders" traveling through Africa and were not part of the day's planned rafting excursion. I guess the "overlanders" make full use of each and every pit-stop along their route to Cape Town to build up enough aversion to alcohol for when they actually go back home and start "REAL" life.

The truck to the starting point left at 9am. After a quick breakfast at the rafting equipment storage facilities, we headed down to the river. There we got a safety induction. Even though I think it was a bit over-exaggerated, when drowning is a possible outcome of the activities to follow one can probably expect that. I guess the one rapid called "The Dead Dutchman" justifies it. There were enough people for three teams and we were told to make sure that we choose our partners carefully. I went for the "crazy group" hoping that we might follow a more extreme route than the "cautious group"...with the middle group heading nowhere I guess.

I had no idea what was waiting for us. All I knew is that we had a raft and locally made wooden oars, a chatty guide called Peter and some 9 rapids ahead ranging from grade 1 to grade 5. The grade 6 rapid along the route is not allowed for commercial rafting and we were going to walk around it. I guess grade 5 was going to be our biggest challenge then. Once in the water we did a few safety maneuvers like flipping the boat, diving under an overturned raft and getting out again, flipping it back again and climbing back on. Also a few other safety maneuvers to make sure we don't "end up in Cairo" as Peter repeatedly warned we would be doing if we don't follow his instructions. Then it was off to the first rapid.

One of the only two disappointments of the day I guess was the fact that the river wasn't flowing at full strength. I am not sure if this is a good or bad thing, but it definitely alters the possible routes over the rapids. Apparently it does not change the grading, but I feel that with a full flowing river we might have had more fun...or scary moments. The crazy guys managed to tip the boat on the first rapid, but we all got back in safely with only our pride injured. This tipping thing was going to repeat itself a few more times, so it was good later on that we had a few practice runs. Crazy had nothing to do with it. You basically have no control over the raft and the turbulent currents decide where it wants to flip you. The safety training does help when you all of a sudden find yourself alone floating down a river that goes all the way to Cairo.

In between the rapids were long stretches of flat water. These sections were quite honestly very boring. I did not sign up for that but I did pay for it, so I used these moments to enjoy the scenery and locals doing their washing on the river banks. It also allowed enough time for a voluntary dip in the warm water, many jokes and getting to know fellow rafters.  We had a German, two South Africans and three Pommies on board, with a very pleasant Ugandan as our guide. In one of the flat stretches we managed to have lunch on the raft which consisted of sweet pineapples and biscuits. The biscuits however I suspect might have been teething biscuits for babies. The food was delivered by the safety raft. This raft, much larger than the one we were on, was steered by one guy with two huge oars and massive pecs. You could see in his upper body physique that he does this quite often. Although his raft takes the rapids much easier due to its size, he still managed to make the rest of us all look a bit amateurish. He later transported two passenger who were not prepared to face another dunking in the Nile and he managed to do this all by himself. Next time I am taking that raft and plenty of ice cold beers. I might even consider a braai on-board.

The memory capturer of the day who used to sell photos for 10 US realized soon after taking up the position of chief photographer that technology was a bitch and he suffered losses because of piracy. One guy on a raft buys a CD and copies it for the rest, simple. The solution to save his business he reckoned was to sell only one copy to the team for 80 US and then they can sort it out between themselves. We had a look at the pictures and even though some of them were really cool, my fellow team mates who mostly are poor students doing charity work in Africa decided that they were not interested. I tried to deal with the photographer for a lower price for myself, but he didn't budge. He was prepared to leave empty handed that day (none of the other teams bought their's either) just because of his "all-or-nothing" business plan. So the second disappointment of the day was that I also left empty-handed. Memories in this digital age that costs more than half of the whole experience in my opinion was a bit over the top. 

The last rapid is named after the local beer...Nile Special. Our guide warned us all along the way that no raft survives this rapid. We were the first raft heading for the rapid to test his theory. As we hit the second huge wave we saw a blue object floating past us at a tremendous speed. The highlight of the day turned out to be our guide falling off and overtaking us in the rapid. We just had enough time to grasp air for a good burst of laughter when the Nile decided it was time to join him. Further downstream while clinging onto the raft we managed to pick up the pieces and oars that went flying along with our guide. From there we drifted slowly ashore recapturing quite an eventful and exciting day. 

When we arrived at our final stop, we had a good buffet and cold beers. From there we took a shuttle back to Kampala where I was booked in for the night. The 70 km trip to Kampala took another 4 hours. By the time we reached Kampala I was still peeved off with the photographer. My action photos will never be published anywhere and might as well have gone down with the Nile to Cairo. The experience was great, the adrenaline level however not nearly as high as I was hoping for. I've had worse experiences in water before and never really felt like I was going to drown soon. Isn't that the whole idea? If you weren't the one running to your mother when your cousins pushed your head under the water in the swimming pool, you are likely to survive this too. I am pretty sure there are more dangerous rivers around the world where a grade 5 might give you a run for your money. The grade 6 rapid where we walked past did look a bit more intimidating, but the rafting we did in the upper section of the Victoria Nile was rather tame. The two passengers on the safety raft however might not agree.....

(*The pictures you see on this site I shamelessly pirated from the Internet. It is not me on any of the rafts, but it does give an indication of what the rapids look like)

Aero Beach in Entebbe

It's referred to as "the beach" by the people from Kampala and even though the concept of a "beach" in the middle of a continent has never really made sense to me, I have to agree that it does have a beach feel to it. If you manage to look past the fresh water and the inability to ever get a good surf here, then you might as well enjoy the white sand next to the largest lake in Africa and have yourself a beach party here. 

Entebbe is about 70 kilometers from Kampala. They have a few beaches. My driver pronounces it in his Uganda English as "bitch". He asked me today: "Do you still have that picture when you and I were on the bitch?" I just smiled, I usually destroy incriminating evidence like that. The one where we were on the BEACH I do have, yes.

Today we went to Aero Beach. I thought it was called Aero Beach because it was probably the closest beach to the airport, but when we went through the gate it made more sense. Two huge aeroplanes are on the property. I asked whether they were brought there or if they missed the runway, but he wasn't sure. "They were from Idi Amin's time", he said to me.  I guess they missed the runway then.

The place looks a bit dilapidated, but I was told that this was one of the most popular beaches in Entebbe. Apparently on weekends it is so full that you cannot walk, I was glad it was in the middle of the week. We were hungry, so we decided to get something to eat. All they had on the menu for the day was Fish & Chips. The fish of course Tilapia fresh from the lake. The two meals plus four Cokes and pineapple rings for Desert cost us 24USD. I wonder if the locals eat here, it is quite expensive for them. I see however that on weekends they have a full menu, or maybe I just paid the Mzungu price. Nevertheless, the food was good. 

The Boda-boda Utility Vehicle

A friend of mine noticed in a picture in one of my previous posts the lane splitting abilities of the Ugandan bikers.  I mentioned to him that they are called "boda-bodas" in Uganda and that they are kamikaze pilots with exceptional biking skills. He then posted the picture on the Wild Dogs biking forum. These boda-bodas are like mosquitoes in traffic, but they actually hardly interfere with the flow of traffic. As a matter of fact they are the only ones flowing, and they seem to be the ultimate solution to heavy traffic problems. So I decided to take some pictures of these boda-bodas because there doesn't seem to be any rules when using them. Unfortunately I waited too long, because I took these on my way to the airport. I have seen so many funny uses for these bikes over the past week, especially on my trip to Packwach, but never took pictures. Goats, television sets, 5 people (Mom, Dad, 2 babies and the driver), chickens, dining room tables, mirrors, anything you can think of.  I will for sure take more on my next trip, and even do a test ride to report back. Here are a few that I took this afternoon...

 Timba Boda

Big Bagger Boda

Meat Me Boda

Boda Classic

School's Out Boda

Wacky Waste Boda

School's Out Boda

The Coal Train

Family Friend Boda

Classic Utility Boda

Water Car Boda

The 1-Tonner Boda

Crate Mate Boda

Chobe Safari Lodge - A Photo Gallery

I was fortunate to visit the Murchison Falls Park in Northern Uganda and stayed in the Chobe Safari Lodge, one of three lodges inside the reserve. The lodge overlooks the River Nile (Albert Nile) and has a wide variety of animals and birds with an absolutely stunning atmosphere. Africa at its best.

We All Are One

One thing I like about travelling is the opportunity to take pictures. When you travel even a washed out shoe on the beach sometimes make for a good reminder of where you’ve been. Unfortunately when you travel in Africa taking pictures can sometimes land you in big trouble. That I have learned from a previous experience in Cameroon. I don’t know what it is with my African brothers, but somehow pointing a camera is like an insult to them and you might literally get a rifle pointing towards you if you are not careful.

Yesterday we were traveling from Kampala to Pakwach, a small town situated about 400 km north of Uganda’s capital. I am always very cautious when I take out my camera in African countries; you never know who you might offend. In Cameroon when a colleague of mine took a picture of a dilapidated bridge, we ended up emptying our pockets to get her camera back. The police officer appeared from out of the blue and demanded that we explain ourselves to the “Police Chief” who was apparently sitting in a little shack further back on the road where we came from. When we reached the shack there was no Chief in sight and we eventually had to buy back her camera for 60USD….minus all the pictures that had to be deleted.

Yesterday as we were traveling to Pakwach, I tried to get one or two pictures of the surrounding area. At no point did I deliberately point my camera towards anybody, although in the end I did end up with a few faces on my shots. I took most of the pictures from the car as we were driving and obediently put the camera away when we stopped to take a leak or had biscuits to eat next to the road (no Shell Ultra City stops here). It was when we crossed the bridge near the Karuma Falls where we made the mistake of showing our cameras to any possible observers. The falls are not really that impressive, it is more like impressive rapids. We were more after the “been there, done that” type of pictures, but our driver told us that we were not allowed to stop on the bridge, so we captured them “on the fly”. Strangely enough in South Africa we would’ve constructed a special lookout point for tourists to snap away. In Uganda it’s a different story.

Then it happened….

From out of nowhere a guy in military attire jumped in front of our vehicle. Agreed, with his camouflage suit he was real hard to spot against the green lush background, but he appeared from nowhere just like the guy in Cameroon did. They seem to be masters at this “hide-and-seek” and then “suddenly appear” game. We knew immediately what was about to happen. He spoke in Swahili, clearly showing his disapproval. After about ten minutes of negotiations between himself and our driver, we were allowed to go. Our driver somehow convinced him that we didn’t have money on us and the opportunistic road robber wasn’t armed, so we got off easy this time. Phew, close call.

Our next bridge was the one crossing over the Albert Nile into Pakwach. We crossed the bridge and a police check-point with no problems…and no pictures this time either. The police officers were quite friendly and didn’t really ask any questions. Our driver informed us that we were allowed to take pictures on that bridge, because the last time he crossed the bridge he had tourist with him and they took pictures…no problem. We finished our business in Pakwach and decided that on our way back we would take a picture of the Nile, just for memories’ sake and for my blog of course. As we approached the bridge, we went for our cameras. Man, it was as if Houdini himself made his magic appearing-from-nowhere act, this time with an assistant. From absolutely nowhere TWO military guys appeared next to the vehicle. This time they were armed, so we were a bit more concerned than the first time. They spoke in English, told us to exit the vehicle and to follow them to their “Commanding Officer”. He took the camera from my hands before I could even shout “go!!!” At first we tried to convince them that we would delete the pictures, but they didn’t want to budge…it was “Commanding Officer or no camera back.”

We got out, we had no choice. I wasn’t going to leave my camera there. Unlike the previous time when the “Police Chief” was just a clever way of getting us out of the car, this time the Commanding Officer was an actual person in uniform sitting on a tree trunk reading yesterday’s newspaper.  They all spoke in English, which made it a bit easier for us to communicate too. With my big mouth I told them that there is no law against taking pictures and that they are just after our money. This upset them a bit. I could tell by the way they were waving their AK47’s in the air. My colleague was quite diplomatic and listened to their long explanation as to “why we should not take pictures without their permission, blah, blah, blah.” In the meantime he was trying to tell me to shut up as I was protesting for being harassed on my own continent which was not really strengthening our case. My approach was one of “we are all brothers from Africa who should respect each other”, while my colleague was using a more sincere apologetic approach for the “clear misunderstanding”. Obviously he could not play the “We are all One”-card as he is originally from the UK, a ex-colonialist returning to a country where his forefathers wasn't welcome in the first place. At least I was born in Africa, so I had a leg to stand on. I learned however today that the “we are all one” approach only works when you are bargaining for lower prices at the craft markets, not when you have an clearly upset rifle-carrying-man in a camouflage uniform in front of you.

We were told that, even though there are no signposts to inform the unsuspected tourist that taking pictures of bridges were a crime in Uganda, you had to ask permission first. This proves to be quite difficult as you don’t see them before it is too late. I think it makes them feel better if you give them the recognition as their country’s asset protectors. On the other side of the bridge there were two more guys sitting, also heavily armed. That is five people guarding one bridge from tourists’ cameras. I don’t know how many bridges there are in Uganda, but it clearly creates quite a few jobs, even if an outdated newspaper is read during working hours. After my colleague’s apologetic approach their angry faces turned into friendly smiles. We asked permission to keep the pictures we took and the Commanding Officer nodded his head. The two soldiers respected their commander’s decision and we were free to go.  

My colleague grabbed his camera and headed straight back to the car. I asked for a group picture but they rejected my request saying it was not allowed either. I invited them to visit South Africa…without their rifles of course….and promised that I would show them around in South Africa without confiscating their cameras. After all…in Africa “We All Are One”.