• Home

After a rather arduous journey from Vancouver to Kampala, I’m finally here. It involved a bit of bribery (in Seattle of all places) to cut a line at the airport, and then a lengthy layover in Amsterdam (but refreshed with an airport shower) followed by a slight hassle checking into the hostel, but I made it! I’m so relieved as it feels like this trip has been in the planning stages forever and a day. So now I sit at the Kampala Backpackers, checking my Facebook messages like a true addict whilst trying to map out my bus journeys for the days ahead. I’m in heaven.

And to top it off, it’s my birthday today. Another year wiser (??) and still getting by trying to experience everything life has to offer.

Yesterday I joined Brits Laura and Fiona for an amble up to the Namirembe Cathedral. We were given a tour from a local young man, working towards becoming a priest. He rolled off endless names and dates of the martyrs and colonials that contributed to the history of the area. It certainly was not the type of tour I was expecting immediately upon arrival, but I thoroughly enjoyed it nonetheless.

We followed this excursion by jumping into a private hire taxi to Nsambua Hospital to visit a sister in a convent that Fiona had worked with years previously (when teaching English). Being my first time in a convent, I was careful of what I said. Even though sisters do live normal lives I felt very on guard as the last thing I wanted to do was offend a woman so dedicated to helping others. We walked past a traditional fire cooking the staple food for Ugandans, matoke (plantains) and the sweet smell was intoxicating.

The convent had many large rooms branching off the tiled corridors. Lights remained off as electricity is a valuable commodity in many areas of Uganda. The room we sat in to enjoy our fresh passion juice had eight sofas with stiff velour cushions, placed beneath portraits of popes and bishops, old and new. Once the window shutters were opened, the view of the gardens was hard to ignore.

“Oh God, it’s so beautiful” I said. Immediately I felt as though I had used his name too casually, but luckily nobody seemed to notice. The sisters kept streaming into the room to greet us with intense smiles. Sometimes it was quite hard to follow their strongly accented English, but a smile and a nod always seemed to be a good response.

Following our ‘afternoon tea’, we walked over to a school to visit a former student of Fiona’s. Even though it was the early evening, students were still buzzing around the grounds in their blue uniforms with books under their arms. The dedication to education was overwhelming. Seen as their chance for a better life, these youngsters work hard and aim high. When I asked Fiona’s student was she wanted to be after all of her studies, she replied in a very nonchalent manner,

“Oh, just a neurosurgeon.” Gulp. When I was 15, all I could think about was working at a coffee shop! She then told us more about her day, and how tired she was as she had got up at 3:15 am to continue reviewing for an exam she had scheduled at 6am. Can you imagine?

So my introduction to Uganda is far from what I expected. I am laying low at the Backpackers hostel, watching the monkeys eyeing up my lunch, as I work with the locals trying to get a permit to view the gorillas in a few days. It’s a very slow pace, of which, I m slowly adapting to. Afterall, I’m a year older today…must take it slow.

Fiona

PS-I’m having some problems adding photos but I’ll keep trying-come back later!

The anticipation that I felt as I stepped off the bus in Capetown had been building up for the entire 22 hour journey. I was not planning for the same adventures of Zambia or Namibia, but rather some quality time with a dear friend that had returned to her home in South Africa. When Claudia hollered my name from her car opposite the bus depot, I skipped across the road-even with my 20 kilo pack on! Isn’t it crazy how some situations can make you feel like a kid again? We took the scenic drive to the house and I couldn’t help beaming from ear to ear. This is partly because I soon had an ice cream in hand as we walked around Camps Bay with the third princess on the trip, little Emily. I am not broody, but I appreciate meeting cute adorable kids who’s nappy I don’t have to change.

Read more

Having crossed the border from Zambia, the road that stretched out ahead was long and straight. It welcomed my feet hanging out of the window in addition to catching up in my diary. (I’m always having to catch up in my diary and in the blog entries if you haven’t noticed!!) This drive along the Caprivi strip couldn’t be this perfect for too long, could it? Nnnnnoooooooo, of course not!!

Read more

As you may recall from my last blog, I was beginning to experience an unusual entry into the land of Zambia. I had collected my Tanzanian exit stamp in the early hours of the morning and joined my mate Anita in order to get our visas from the on board customs officials. Having explained to the officials just what they needed to know, the officers felt the situation might best be dealt with in the privacy of their onboard office. The slight hitch to our situation was that Anita had slept through her Tanzanian exit stamp, and I had mine in the wrong passport. We stepped into the first class ‘office’ and the door was pulled closed for further privacy. As the window blind was shut as well, I decided to pull the corridor door back open. Sitting on top of a bed in a dark cabin with 2 officials wasn’t really how I had envisioned getting my Zambian visa. There really wasn’t a problem with any justification, so we battled with the first presented option of getting off of the train at the next stop and making our way overland back to Tanzania for a stamp. “There MUST be an easier solution officer?”

Read more