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“RROOWW!” “HARRD” “HARRDERR!”

Panic sinking in, nine oars thrusting into the foamy, white, roaring water, we row for our lives right into the thick of a Grade 5 rapid, and the impending doom that I somehow seemed to get a front-seat view of, stupidly volunteering to go up front. It’s fair to say I’m well and truly bricking it!

Death's door at The Nile's source

Simon Wadsworth
2006-09-04 10:59:52

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officialdom, squeezing policemen, pestering money-changers, the greatest risks and the crummiest hotels.” So, I was pleasantly surprised to discover none of these, a pattern that has continued into Uganda - few hassles, better roads and I feel safer walking out at night, with no need to get the Mission Impossible soundtrack out again.

I stayed in Kampala another four nights before the rafting, including one night at Caroline and Laura’s spacious, secure house in Muyenge, the ex-pat and NGO district, owned by the Save the Children foundation, which they’re lucky enough to have during their stay. Uganda has no social security system in place, so child beggars are more prominent than in Nairobi, shouting a Dickensian “Sir?” as you walk down the streets. But that aside, I liked Kampala. Like Rome, it is a city of seven hills, making it a very picturesque place, with red brick buildings sneaking through the treetops of the surrounding hills, and a feeling of modernization, of hope, of improvement in the air, which is fantastic when you consider that just twenty years ago, the city was practically on its knees due to Amin’s Polpot-like years, the Uganda/Tanzania war of 1979/80, and the hellish after years of Tanzanian banditry and absolute rule (more of that in the next blog), before Musseveni finally came to power in 1986.

Like Kisumu, I had no major plans, so just bided my time exploring the city - stopping for drinks with fellow Africans, visiting the Environmental faculty at Makerere University, eating gorgeous sorbet at the famous Speke Hotel, visiting cathedrals and temples and trying not to die of lung cancer from the smog. I also visited the theatre, only to find the play was for the deaf, so went to the cinema instead, only to find the powercut was still on. In Kampala, the whole capital city goes without power on alternate 24 hour periods, without anyone blinking an eyelid. It’s a strange place when development is so rife, but Uganda still has a long way to go.

I’ve somewhat squashed my week in two cities into a few lines, as this blog is long enough I feel. If I spoke about every little thing I’d be stuck in this internet café for ever. I think the rafting was the last of the death-defying stunts on this trip (well, besides taking public transport), so it’s a three-week home-run straight left to go. Have a grand week! Simon x