Zanzibar, September 22 (Perry)

Settling In

After touching down in Zanzibar airport, we quickly deplaned and made our way to the main terminal. Being an island and all, we assumed that the airport would be fairly quiet but the fact that the terminal was essentially deserted was a bit strange. Literally, we walked through unmanned immigration gates and picked up our bags without seeing one airport employee (other than the crew that unloaded our bags). As empty as the inside may have been, once we exited the place we were bombarded with taxi drivers looking for our fare. Good to know some things never change. Since we had just roughed it on the mountain, Zanzibar was to be all about relaxing and with that, a little bit of mid-range luxury. As such, we had someone from out hotel, Dhow Palace, waiting there to pick us up.

Zanzibar town is essentially split into Stone Town and non-Stone Town, with the former being the main commercial and tourist area. Driving to our hotel through the narrow streets and amongst the Swahili style buildings, Stone Town reminded us very much of Lamu, Kenya. Except for the fact that cars and bikes, as opposed to donkeys, appeared to be the main source of traffic. Seeing that both Jen and I loved Lamu, we knew we were going to like our time here. At around $100 USD per night, the Dhow Palace was definitely a step up in price for us. But, with the island being such a tourist attraction, budget accommodations were not plentiful (nice ones, anyhow . . .). As we checked into our room, we had very high hopes for the place as the building itself was quite cool. Having certain expectations for what $100 should get us, we were a bit let down when we were shown our room. It’s not that the room wasn’t livable enough, it just wasn’t what we were expecting for our big splurge.

Luckily for us, Tembo, the sister hotel to Dhow was only a couple blocks away. Located on the beach, and with a more welcoming swimming pool, the Tembo was what we were looking for. With some slick bargaining, Jen was able to secure us a room at the same price as the Dhow (she’s much, much better at bargaining than I am). With two moves in two days, we were finally ready to settle in and enjoy our time.

Forodhani Gardens

For me, one of the main attractions of Zanzibar was the Forodhani Gardens, a food market with everything seafood. From fish skewers, to grilled calamari, to crab claws, to lobster, this market was my seafood paradise. Add in some local delicacies like Zanzibar pizzas and tasty samosas and you can see why we ate here for the first few days.

The first time we went to the market, which is pretty much a grid of tables set along the seafront, I felt like a kid in a candy store. The only thing that kept me from buying from the first guy that said “Hello” was Jen, who suggested we check out the scene before settling on a vendor. At first glance, all the tables seemed to be offering similar goods but as we learned, not all seafood is good food. We lucked out the first night and chose a table managed by a super friendly local. While the spread was impressive, it was really his non-aggressive sales tactics that secured our order. With eyes bigger than our stomachs, we proceeded to order 6 fish skewers, 2 lobster skewers, 2 samosas, and two large crab legs. The bill that night; under $20 CAD. You had me at “Hello”.

The next night, with the assumption that the quality of food had been established the night before, we decided to spread our business around. Big mistake! Not only were we very disappointed in our meal but we also committed the ultimate travelers’ sin. We ordered our meal without asking the price beforehand! Eating less than half the amount of food as the previous night, and definitely of worse quality, we ended up spending much more. For the rest of our time there, we never strayed from the first night’s table and accordingly, we were never disappointed again.

Exploring Stone Town

Stone Town is the kind of area where its best to just walk around and explore (ie. get lost). Maps, even when available, are essentially useless as street signs are non-existent. More often than not, we found ourselves wandering small streets completely lost, but that’s pretty much how you end up stumbling upon cool places. One such place, the Zanzibar Coffee house, was a super comfortable little tucked away shop which Jen and I soon memorized the route to. Like most resort towns, Zanzibar is full of souvenir shops and the main strip (if you can call it that) was a dizzying collection of arts and crafts. Once again, through the simple concept of over-saturation, many of the “unique” items that at first sight are very nice, end up appearing very generic and undesirable as you are bombarded with shop after shop selling the exact same items. Nevertheless, Jen and I spent a good couple of days picking up souvenirs and pieces of art for ourselves and folks back home. We figured by the time we get home, the pieces will regain their appeal (fingers crossed).

Diving & Snorkeling

Aside from its seafood and shopping, Zanzibar is known for many other things. Being an island, diving and snorkeling are a main draw. I include snorkeling because even with my open water certification in-hand, I haven’t been too keen to get back under the water. Not exactly sure why, but let’s just say that diving isn’t my bag. We hooked up with One Ocean Diving for a day on the sea where Jen would dive and I would snorkel. Not that I was diving, nor do I have much to compare it to, but I could see from how things were going that Jen and I were definitely spoiled diving in Thailand. In Thailand, everything was well planned out, organized, and easy. Here in Zanzibar, it all seemed a little rushed. In Thailand, you couldn’t get the guides and instructors to shut up; if they weren’t explaining the upcoming dive, then they were simply talking about diving (At the time though, it was a bit much for me . . .). In Zanzibar, sure you got the basic prep talk, but beyond that, not much.

Going into the day, I fully assumed I would be snorkeling alone as I was basically an add-on to a diving excursion. To my surprise, I was joined by an Australian woman and we even had a guide. Not being the most experienced swimmer, the thought of having a guide made me worry that I would have to follow some set out path and that I would be struggling to keep up. Nope. The “guide” was essentially just a third snorkeler and we were pretty much left to do and see whatever we could. After Jen’s two dives, I gathered that while she enjoyed the day, she definitely missed the warm waters of Similan Islands. Her chattering teeth were a dead giveaway.

We ended up meeting some nice people on the boat and seeing that Zanzibar’s a fairly small island, we happily ran into a few them again during our stay. One night at the Foridhani Gardens, we ran into Jean-Phillipe and Jean-Francios, two actuaries from Quebec. (Yes, those are their real names.) These guys were traveling for 6 months and were following our path in a way, only backwards. While they had done Egypt and some other countries beforehand, they were here in East Africa first and then heading to South East Asia. It was nice to be able to talk about Asia once again and we tried to give them some helpful tips. We couldn’t help but laugh a bit listening to them introduce themselves to locals with their francophone accents and so similar names. Challenging communication for your average Tanzanian.

Swahili Food

On one of the few nights that we were able to tear ourselves away from the seafood smorgasbord, we hooked up with Mark, Jen’s diving buddy, who was an American teaching in Dar Es Salem. Being that Mark had visited the island before, we trusted him in choosing a place to eat. Mark lead us to the footsteps of dimly lit house, and we had arrived at Two Tables. If ever there was a place more appropriately named, this was it. This place was exactly that, two tables set up outside a local family’s living room. They offered up authentic Swahili style cooking served family style. Being just the three of us, we ended up sharing a table with an older English couple and their adult son, who was also working in Tanzania. The conversation was interesting, and the food was fabulous. The dishes weren’t anything fancy, just simple and very, very tasty Swahili “comfort” food; soups, donuts, fish, meatballs, etc. expertly sauced and spiced. There were about six courses in all. Of course the night could’ve been a bit better had we remembered to bring some wine.

Spice Tour

In the past, Zanzibar was independent from Tanzania (then Tanganyika) and had a thriving economy based on two industries, the spice trade and the slave trade. While I’m generally opposed to organized tours, we’d heard that the spice tour was not to be missed. So, we joined a tour organized through our hotel. Not to be missed . . . Really?! Don’t get me wrong, it definitely had its moments, such as the part of the tour that actually had to do with spices, but overall, it was very mediocre. The way the tour was sold to us was that it was supposed to show the “ins and outs” of the spice trade. Jen and I were under the impression that this meant learning how the spices were picked, collected, gathered and processed for use. Not the case. While we did see many interesting spices in their natural form, the only aspect of the “process” that we saw was when they led us to a stand selling the finished product. The day turned out to be more of a general introduction to Zanzibar than a spice tour; including a visit to an old bath house, a remote beach, and an underground cave that was used to house slaves illegally after the slave trade was abolished.

Stone Town Tour

Another day, Jen and I decided to do a guided walking tour of the city. While we had done some exploring of the town on our own, we saw so much more with someone who actually knew where they were going. Eventually we made our way to the market area, which is always an interesting sight in any town. Whereas in some markets basically everything you can imagine is under one roof, here the markets were separated by products. The first stop was the chicken market which was basically just a room filled with cramped, caged chickens. Here you had the option of buying the chicken live or having someone butcher it for you. Our guide said everything was fair game in terms of picture taking, but I’m pretty sure the three men out back covered in blood from cutting the heads off chickens didn’t really appreciate their photo op with Jen.

Next up was the fish market. While the stench was not the most appealing, it was cool to see all the types of sea life that were being caught and sold. As our guide explained, the fish market is usually much crazier than what we were seeing. In addition to the numerous stalls, the market has a seafood auction which was not operating. We were in Zanzibar during Ramadan and Eid, the festival celebrating the end of Ramadan. Our guide explained that chicken and not fish, was customary for breaking fast.

The guided walk ended with a tour of the grounds of the old slave market. Much of the evidence of this unfortunate part of the island’s history had been destroyed with the collapse of the slave trade, but there were a few reminders. In the middle of the grounds was a large tree which was used to chain up slaves being displayed for sale. The routine was that when chained to the tree, the slave would be whipped. The less the slave cried or gave indication of pain, the tougher the slave was deemed and therefore commanded a greater price. Inside the main building, we were led to the old slaves’ quarters. Best described as cellars, you could see how the rooms would’ve been an overcrowded, damp, and lacking air. These two rooms, while not in their original state, served as reminders of the horrific living conditions that these individuals endured.

Eid

The last of our time in Zanzibar coincided with Eid, which celebrates the end of Ramadan. When we first arrived on the island, and tried to go for lunch, we were quickly reminded that we were in the midst of the Islamic month of fasting . Because the island is predominantly Muslim, most of the restaurants were closed during the day. As such, our options for places to eat and hangout were somewhat limited during daylight but thankfully there were a few nice places catering to tourists. Talking to locals around town, you could definitely feel the sense of excitement as Ramadan was coming to an end. While we initially thought the celebrations would take place more in homes and would be limited to family members only, we were repeatedly assured that anyone could partake. In reality, it was almost impossible to avoid the chaos.

Asking around, we learned that there were two main areas where people gathered for Eid celebrations. One was the Forodhani Gardens and the other was a field just outside of Stone Town. On one of my all too few runs that I’ve been on since traveling, I happened to locate the field where they were setting up some booths. Booths not unlike what you’d see at the Stampede, where food would be sold and games would be played. But at the same time, these booths were much more, let’s just say . . . rustic. Seeing the dozen or so booths being set up, I figured this to be the second site.

On the first night of Eid, we started out by heading to the Forodhani Gardens to check out the celebrations there and to grab a bite to eat. The place was packed. Whereas during the week we’d had no problem ordering and securing a spot on the one of the public benches, now you could barely even walk. When we did finally secure a seat, we were treated to some great people watching. It was nice to see all the families out and about sharing a meal together. It was also fun to check out what the people were wearing as everyone, from the smallest of babies to the oldest of grandmas and grandpas, were dressed in their best traditional attire.

After dinner, we headed out of Stone Town towards the second site to check out what the scene was like there. While I was almost positive that we weren’t just heading to an empty grass field in the middle of night, I was starting to doubt myself as there was very little foot traffic heading in that direction. And, the road was pitch dark. As we approached though, it became clear we had found the right place. The dozen or so booths that I saw the previous day had multiplied to over a hundred. In both of our minds, we were expecting some sort of traditional celebration or performance. We couldn’t have been more wrong. As we entered the grounds and looked around we both realized that this was a fair; the Zanzibar equivalent to the Stampede grounds, minus the rodeo and of course the booze. In many ways though, this was much more chaotic than any night at the Stampede.

Making up the majority of the grounds were stalls selling food, but as we delved into the crowds of people, we started to see much, much more. Similar to North American fairs, there were games where people could win prizes. However, all that they needed was an empty Fanta bottle and some discarded plastic packaging and they had themselves a ring toss game. Similar to back home, they had photo booths where “professionals” would take your photo in front of different backdrops. The difference is that back home, where getting a family photo with a western backdrop is just for fun, people here are dressed in their very best for this photo because this is their once a year chance to have one done. I was surprised (and excited) to see that they had similar gambling games to back home. At least I thought they did. I was pretty sure all I had to do was place a bet on one of the many symbols on the table and if that same symbol showed up on one of the dice, I would win. Playing what loose change I had and not winning a turn, I decided maybe the only rule was to take the foreigners bet no matter what symbol showed up.

In general, everything was kind of like what you’d expect to see at a fair back home, just much, much more basic. It’s like ordering lobster at a fancy seafood restaurant compared to ordering the lobster sandwich at Subway. The place was fun and chaotic at the same time. It was fun because it was absolutely packed with locals all wanting to have a good time. To be honest, it was also a bit scary because from what I could see, Jen and I made up half of all the tourists at this place.

As we made our way through the maze of people, it was shocking to see how many grease fires they had going on the open grass (for cooking). And it’s not like these fires were in isolated areas, they were right out in the open, on the ground, often bordering the foot traffic. Thank God nobody was drinking. You don’t want any stumbling drunks around that kind of set up.

As we exited the food stalls, we came across a series of fenced off areas. At first glance, we had no idea what was going on. As we scoped them out, we deduced that they were makeshift “clubs”, each playing their own brand of dance music. We could see people going in and out but we were unable to catch a glimpse inside. It was all a bit intimidating but eventually our curiosity got the better of us and we made our way through one of the entrances. The place turned out to be no frills and except for a few lights and speakers, the place was just a field, a fence, and a few hundred people dancing. We joined the party and ended up dancing for awhile (I use the term “dancing” very loosely in describing what I was doing).

Moving On

In total we spent a week in Zanzibar and while it didn’t turn out to be your typical island holiday (we spent a total of 3 hours, maybe, at the beach), we did end up seeing and doing quite a bit. Highlights for me were of course the cheap and tasty seafood, and the Eid celebrations. In terms of Stone Town itself, I think we would have appreciated it more had we not visited Lamu first. Both towns are old Swahili style but that’s pretty much where the comparisons end. Yes, in both towns, street touts are always trying to get your business. The difference was that in Lamu, even after guys knew we weren’t interested in a tour, they were still super nice and friendly. In Zanzibar, most of the guys tried to make us feel guilty for not supporting them, or just got outright angry. To me, it was the people of Lamu that made it such a great place to visit. Don’t get me wrong, we really enjoyed our time on Zanzibar. But if you want to win my heart, and I mean really win my heart, you’ve got to give me a freaking donkey.

It’s almost 3 months that we’ve been in East Africa and it’s kind of sad that we’re leaving. We’ve done some amazing things, things that I’ll never forget. From our very first game drive in the Masai Mara, where we saw elephants, giraffes, and lions, I knew that East Africa was going to be special. To me, it’s the underlying “wildness” of it all that I love. It’s hard to describe. In some ways, East Africa is everything I thought it would be but in many ways, it’s very different. The terrain and the wildlife, while spectacular, were somewhat expected. What surprised me is how the people have treated us. Reading our guide books, it’s as if they’ve gone overboard in painting the picture of how dangerous everything is over here. Of course, we’ve encountered some shady characters but no more than you would anywhere else. Overall, the people here have been warm and friendly to us and we’ve been lucky enough to have met some really genuine individuals. In many cases, it’s the people more so than the location or the activity that have made it enjoyable. Case in point, our trip up Mt. Kilimanjaro. Without our great guides and crew, the trip would’ve been so much less enjoyable.

We’re off to South Africa next, with Pretoria being our first stop. (Luckily, we are traveling by air this time as well.) While I’m excited for some of the western comforts that South Africa has to offer, I am sad to say good-bye to East Africa.

More photos at http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Kilimanjaro, September 12 (Jen)

Getting There

After our Uganda Safari, we spent a couple of nights in Entebbe and Kampala getting ourselves organized for the next step of our journey.

We knew we wanted to climb Kilimanjaro, but hadn’t booked a way to Tanzania, nor the trek itself. Because the Kampala to Arusha bus ride is 20+ hours, we planned to treat ourselves to a plane ride. Unfortunately, the flights turned out to be prohibitively expensive for our backpacker budget so we ended up on the bus. Apart from the total mayhem of both the Ugandan and Kenya border posts (Muddy, crowded, totally disorganized shacks - Tanzania was nicely organized in comparison), the trip wasn’t nearly as bad as we had anticipated.

Learning from our experience on Mount Kenya, we decided to book with trusted and true IntoAfrica (www.intoafrica.co.uk). We also decided to stay at their recommended hotel, Ahadi Lodge (www.ahadi-lodge.com), which was $95 per night for the two of us, including breakfast and dinner. (We made this decision after realizing that the “budget” hotel was $65, including nothing. Oh, and I refused to camp directly before or after 7 days on the mountain.) As soon as we arrived, I knew we had made the right choice. The hotel was beautiful, the food was fabulous (like having dinner in a nice restaurant every night), and the rooms were super comfy. The best part about the hotel though was our friendly hostess Erica, an Australian grandmother who had moved to Arusha to be closer to her two granddaughters. (And obviously a successful business woman.)

We had a full day in Arusha prior to the hike, which was meant to ensure we were well rested after the long bus ride, all of our gear was in place, etc. In reality, we spent most of the day checking out the town, and searching for rain ponchos to cover our daypacks in case of rain. These were surprisingly difficult to find. We also received a crash course in Tanzania shopping. The first price we were quoted for rain ponchos was US$45 each. ($45! For a thin piece of plastic with a hood! Shocking.) In the end we did manage to find what we needed for the more reasonable price of $7. We also bought some exhorbently overpriced, second-hand knee high wool socks. I bargained very, very hard to pay $5 per pair instead of $30. ($5 for a pair of used socks! Also shocking.) Tourists definitely cause Tanzanian shopkeepers to see dollar signs.

Late in the afternoon, we finally got a visit from Julius of Masai Wanderings (IntoAfrica’s Tanzanian company). We had a very thorough briefing, where we also filled out a checklist of the gear we needed to borrow. (We’d been assured over the phone that this was possible.) Top of the list were down jackets and warm sleeping bags, but also on the list were rain proof pants, warmer gloves, and hiking poles. We were pretty frozen on Mount Kenya and didn’t want a repeat experience. After examining the checklist and making a call on his cell phone Julius, who was not actually going to be our guide for the trip, assured us that our guides and porters would provide all requested gear the next morning.

The Hike

After yet another hearty breakfast at Ahadi Lodge, we set off. It was about 1.5 hours drive to Machame Gate from Arusha. At the gate, we had to register while our “Kili Crew” organized all of the gear. Our crew consisted of 11 people. Yes, that is right, 11! We were also shocked. We had two guides, two cooks, and 7 porters. All for just Perry and I. They carried a table and chairs, all of our food, 3 tents (one a giant cooking tent), sleeping bags, backpacks, etc. We carried only a daypack. The park regulates that each porter can carry a maximum of 20kg. Although we felt pampered having so much help, we were at least happy to see that none of our guys appeared overloaded, unlike some other porters we saw struggling along the trail.

After signing in, we spent a bit of time waiting with a crowd of other hikers. Feeling a bit envious of everyone else’s hardcore gear, for example comparing their substantial waterproof boots with our ventilated day hikers, we casually asked Elibahati, one of our guides, about our borrowed gear. I.e. Should we pack it in our backpacks? Or did they already have that sorted? Etc. Elibahati gave us a completely blank stare. This is when we realized that we were in trouble. And, how stupid we were to wait until this point to confirm that these important items had in fact been provided. Seems we were relying a bit too heavily on our high opinion of IntoAfrica, and forgetting that we were still in Africa. The only gear they actually had for us were sleeping bags (Thank God!) and hiking poles. Elibahati did his best to rectify the situation by hiring “warm” jackets for us from some guys at the gate. (The rest we could make due without.) Perry ended up with a rainbow colored 80’s fleece made for a very large man, and I with a forest green, faux-fur hooded parka made for a very short, very wide woman (both secondhand of course, at $30 for the week). At least we’d be warm!

Up to the 6th day we enjoyed a fairly consistent routine. We rose early and were provided with a bucket of warm water for washing up. They actually provided this twice a day, morning and evening. I appreciated this little luxury so much. I appreciated it even more when I realized that at some of the camps our guys were walking up to an hour and a half each way to collect water, not to mention the effort of heating it up and delivering it to us. Once we were washed and ready to go, Elias, our “assistant cook”, served us breakfast while the porters packed up our tent. Everyday we had “uji” (hot, sweet, milky porridge made from millet), fruit, eggs, sausage, bread and hot tea. Our guides, Oforro and Elibahati, would then ensure that we walked “pole, pole” (slowly, slowly) to the next camp. Oforro had 15 years of experience as a Kilimanjaro guide and was strict about setting us a consistent pace. It felt very slow on day one, but by day five and six, we were pretty grateful for his advice.

We hiked about 4 or 5 hours each day, arriving at the next camp early to mid afternoon. Depending on the day, we’d either have already eaten a picnic lunch on the trail, or would be served a hot lunch upon arrival at camp. After taking photos of the views, which were spectacular, and different, at each camp, we took refuge from the cold in our tent. The first day I think the altitude was low enough that it could have been warm and enjoyable outside, but it actually was raining. On the subsequent days, even in sunshine I was cold. We’d venture out of our tent again for dinner, served up by Elias. It was incredible to watch, and to eat, the meals Goodluck, our cook, was able to prepare using only one burner. Soups, pasta with meat sauce, stews - really delicious food, and a different menu each night. Besides the tasty dishes, I relished our mealtimes because we ate in the tent where Goodluck also cooked. It was the only warm place available to us for 7 days. I actually felt a bit jealous of the porters who got to sleep in there. In truth though, our sleeping bags were very warm and we had much more comfortable nights than we had on Mount Kenya. The bottle of brandy that I had hidden in my backpack helped too.

As the altitude increased, two things happened. First, the views became more and more impressive. We were above the clouds, the sky was the most amazing blue and our goal, Uhuru Peak, the highest point on the continent, came into view. Second, the “facilities” became more and more vile. I swear, peeing on Kilimanjaro was honestly the most disgusting experience of my life. (And you pee often, since you are drinking liters and liters of water each day trying to avoid altitude sickness.) I’m not sure why squat style outhouses, which are really just tiny holes in the ground, are the answer for the hundreds of tourists who’ve no idea how to use them (i.e. how to hit the hole). I’m also not sure why these simple structures are apparently impossible to maintain to a standard where you don’t feel like the thing is going to collapse at any moment. And I’ve really no idea where the US$110 per person per day park entrance and camping fees go.

Although the entire trail was quite gorgeous, this was definitely not a hike where I felt like I was “getting away from it all” in nature. We were often following a long line of hikers and porters. The park does not restrict the number of people on the mountain, at least not on the Machame route, and as a result the route is extremely crowded. Elibahati estimated that there were 70 to 100 tourists at base camp the day we were there. Considering we had 11 crew for the two of us, you can deduce just how many people are moving from camp to camp on the same path each day. In addition to the crowd and resultant chatter, the porters and guides have no qualms with attaching radios to their backpacks and of course, using their cell phones. (Yes, there was actually reception in most spots.)

Summit

We reached base camp around mid-day five, and our summit hike was to start at midnight. That day, the camp was cold, cloudly, and crowded. Considering the number of tourists attempting the summit, Oforro recommended that we leave a bit early, at 11:30pm, to avoid the long line of hikers. Perry and I wholeheartedly agreed with this strategy.

We tried to nap in the afternoon, and directly after dinner we also attempted to sleep. By this time, tired and cold after 5 days on the mountain, I was at the end of my rope. I was fed up with the number of noisy people around, feeling constantly chilled, and most of all the absolutely disgusting outhouses. (Did I mention that these got worse at the higher altitude camps?) I had a bit of a breakdown in our tent, and told Perry that I would never, ever, ever do this again. He, not so much concerned with the facilities, had his mind focused on the summit hike. He mentioned that he was nervous; it’s a big deal, a high altitude, and you are hiking in the dark in the middle of the night! I scoffed at this and instantly rebuked him. “Do you see all of the out-of-shape people on this trail?”, I asked. “Anyone can do this apparently!” “Besides, when was the last time you were unable to complete a six hour hike?!”, I shouted at him with sarcasm. After this tantrum, I promptly fell asleep, while Perry sat up unable to catch a wink.

We woke up at 11pm for tea and biscuits. I was sleepy, but in a much better mood after my little nap. This was it! We suited ourselves up. I had on 3 pairs of wool socks (2 of which were the second hand knee highs), lulu capri pants, hiking pants, about 5 shirts, a fleece, a rain jacket, a tuque, and of course the “Golden Girls” parka we had hired on day one. I looked really fab. (I say “fab” because I think this is the type of word people who dress this way would use . . .) Perry looked equally ridiculous, but we both felt warm.

“Pole, pole” we started out. It was dark, steep, rocky, windy, and cold. Once we reached around 5000 meters, we both started to feel fatigued and dizzy. (Perhaps me more so than Perry.) I needed the hiking poles just to keep myself upright. I had that feeling you get after 3 (or more . . .) glasses of wine on Friday night after a long work week. Your eyes just want to shut and you could fall asleep in any spot, but you fight hard to keep awake so as to not miss out on the party. In this case, I felt like I could have curled up on any rock along the way and fallen into a peaceful sleep. I likely would have frozen to death had I done this however. This was no ordinary 6 hour hike, and I quickly realized how absurd my previous night’s comments had been. I was extremely thankful for the candies I had in my pocket (I could actually feel a burst of energy from the sugar), and for Oforro’s regular huddle breaks. I always thought that huddling from the cold was just an excuse for teenagers to get close to each other in the winter, but it really worked!

Elibahati climbed with us as well, but only made it halfway up. He had been battling a bad cold and sore throat the entire trip. I think he pushed himself as far as he did only to ensure that we were both alright with the climb before heading back down himself. Knowing we would have two guides with us, Perry and I had discussed previously that if one of us couldn’t make it, the other should push on to the summit alone. Now we had to make it, or not make it, together. I took Elibahati turning back as his vote of confidence that we would make it.

And we did make it! The last bit from Stella Point to Uhuru Peak was the toughest, of course. Reaching Uhuru peak was a huge accomplishment for us both. Perry was emotional and we were both very proud of ourselves and of each other. And, extremely thankful for Oforro. Not only were we the second group to arrive at the summit, we arrived exactly at the moment of sunrise; perfectly timed, perfectly paced. I guess that is what 15 years of experience does. You can see in the photos that the first couple are in the dark, and by the last at the summit, it is light. The views were absolutely stunning. The photos give you an idea, but truly don’t do the experience justice. It was overwhelmingly beautiful. While I still think I wouldn’t do this particular trek over again, I do believe it was worth the effort for those moments at Uhuru Peak.

We spent only a short time at the summit, because it was still very cold. Then came the long walk/slide back down to base camp, which took about 3 hours. The weather was in our favor. The sun was shining and it was absolutely gorgeous and warm that entire sixth day. On our way down, we passed loads of people still on their way up. Most were determinedly trudging along, a few were collapsed beside the path, and one or two had vomited on the path. We were mostly just happy not to be them. Lucky for us, dizziness was really the only altitude effect we had experienced. Arriving back at camp, we were greeted with a mug of juice, and big hugs and congratulations from our crew. I was touched by how excited they were for us. In reality, these guys have likely seen dozens and dozens, if not hundreds, of mzungu tourists summit over the years. (Plus they did all the hard work of carrying all our gear!) They still mustered up the fanfare for our sake, which was very sweet and much appreciated.

Although we had already hiked around 9 hours, our day was not yet done. After a short rest and a meal we embarked on the approx. 4 hour descent to Mweka camp, where we spent our last night on the mountain. By the time we arrived, I was completely exhausted. However, noticing that this camp sold Kilimanjaro beer (very tasty by the way), we found the energy to share a cold one, and the remainder of my secret bottle of brandy, with our crew prior to crashing for the night.

Recovering

Day seven, after breakfast, our crew was eager to get down the mountain and home to their families. We were absolutely on the same page. (For the past six days, the shower at Ahadi Lodge had been on my mind.) Directly after breakfast we tipped all of our guys. I was really thankful for our crew and wanted to make sure they knew it. They were truly a fantastic group of guys; hardworking, friendly, and honest. They then surprised us with a “thank you” of their own. Who knew that all of these big strong guys were also amazing singers! They sang a few “mountain songs” for us , had a bit of a dance party, and then ran off down the mountain. (I have video . . . it’s fabulous but too slow to upload. You’ll just have to wait.) Those crew who shared our ride from the gate back to Arusha sang all the way there as well. I think they were as happy and relieved as I was that the week was successful, and finished.

I could not have asked for a better place to return to than Ahadi Lodge. Good company, a hot shower, movies on TV, big comfy bed, and delicious food were waiting for us. (I couldn’t help but compare with our overnight bus experience after finishing Mount Kenya! We had definitely learned our lesson . . .) We stayed a restful two nights at Ahadi, while Erica helped us to sort out a flight and hotel in Zanzibar. This time there was no question on transportation. We flew to Zanzibar where we would rest for a week before heading to visit Lantie, Anneri, and Petrone’ in Pretoria, South Africa. (Lantie had cricket match tickets on Sep 24th . . . For once, we actually had a deadline. I’ll miss this kind of “deadline” I think, upon my return to reality . . . )

For photos of our climb, see http://gallery.me.com/adamschen

Our Route (From Masai Wanderings/IntoAfrica)

Day 1 From Arusha drive to the Machame Park gate, then a gentle climb up through the original montane forest, carpeted with unique "busy lizzie" flowers, begonias and ferns. First camp amongst the giant heather at 3,000m. Ascent of 1,200m and 5-6 hours walking.

Day 2 Emerge from the giant heather zone and hike through fine open moorland to camp by the Shira Cave at 3,840m. Herds of eland up here (& occasional lion!) and there are fascinating geological features in the old volcanic caldera which can be viewed during a half hour optional walk in the afternoon. Ascent 840m and 4-5 hours walking.

Day 3 From Shira, climb towards the main peak Kibo, with the western glaciers clearly visible across the rugged high-altitude desert of volcanic rocks and boulders. Skirting around its base and under the imposing Western Breach, descend into the sheltered Barranco Valley for mid-way camp at 3,950m. 5-7 hours walking and only 110m total ascent - but having climbed higher and dropping back down assists acclimatisation.

Day 4 Up the steep Barranco Wall with some sections of very easy scrambling and drop down again to the Karanga Valley. This is a short walking day, around 3 hours, and again you climb about 300m but drop back down again to around 4,000m. There’s an optional further acclimatisation hike in afternoon up onto the scree below the glaciers.

Day 5 Up to a new camp about 100m above Barafu Hut perched high on a rocky bluff at 4,000m. Fantastic views across to Mawenzi peak, and a bit less to climb tomorrow morning! This is another short walking day, about 4 hours with a 700m height gain, and time for a good rest in the afternoon immediately before the hard summit day.

Day 6 A bracing 1am start to climb the steep frozen scree. This is unavoidable on any route but we aim to reach Stella Point on the crater rim for sunrise - another 40 mins and you’re at the highest point on the continent, usually in warm sunshine. We return on the Mweka descent route. Walking time 7 hours and 1,300m ascent to the summit, 5-6 hours and 2,800m descent to our camp in a clearing amongst the giant heather at Mweka. This is a long and hard day - you’ll feel tired but absolutely ecstatic after you’ve done it.

Day 7 A 4-5 hours descent through the forest to Mweka Gate to collect our certificates and meet our vehicle. Return to Arusha, arriving early to mid afternoon.

Uganda Safari, August 31 (Jen)

After spending more than enough time experiencing Kampala (i.e. boozing with our new friends), Perry and I finally got ourselves organized to move on and start exploring the rest of the country.

After a bit of contemplation, we decided to spring the USD500 each for mountain gorilla tracking permits, one of Uganda’s most famous attractions. There are only approximately 750 mountain gorillas in the entire world, all living in protected areas of Rwanda, Uganda, and DRCongo, and certain groups have been habituated for tourism. We didn’t want to let this once in a lifetime opportunity pass us by.

Because we are such last minute (non) planners, we determined that our best option to secure one of the coveted permits, and to get to Bwindi Impenetrable National Park in a reasonable amount of time, would be to use a company called “Gorilla Tours” recommended in our LP. (We met a couple who had actually booked their permits through the Uganda Wildlife Authority in November of 2007!) Admittedly, we potentially could have made it to Bwindi on our own using public transport, but reading the directions in our LP made my head spin. It seemed like about 10 different connecting buses, “matatus”, and potential hitch-hiking that I just wasn’t into. (Are we getting soft? Maybe. Or maybe we always were . . . )

Since the company is actually Dutch, and most of the customers book online prior to arrival in Uganda, I think they were quite surprised when we showed up on their suburban doorstep looking to enquire about a trip. (It was interesting though to see how the “other half” lived in comparison to the Kampala neighborhood our hotel was in . . .) After our varied experiences in Africa, we both didn’t feel comfortable booking anything without a face to face meeting. Lucky for us we had done our internet research prior to the visit and managed to get the company to stick to their group rate for a scheduled one week trip they were advertising online, even though they had no one else booked at the moment. This meant that Perry and I ended up with our very own car and driver, for the price of an 8 person tour. Fabulous!

We were a little surprised when Nathan, our driver/guide, picked us up in a 11 seat van, but it had 4WD and a pop-up roof for game drives so it suited us just fine. Well, at least on first glance it did, as I’ll get to later. In any event, it didn’t take us long to realize that while having a “driver” seemed excessive to our Canadian minds, there was no way that either of us was qualified to tackle Ugandan roads. I’m so glad we didn’t attempt to rent a car and self-drive . . .

Kibale Forest National Park

Our first stop was Kibale Forest National Park, which is meant to have the highest density of primates in Africa. For us, Kibale’s draw was the opportunity for chimpanzee tracking.

The drive from Kampala took us about 9 hours, including a couple of stops. First stop was lunch, one of the tasty, plentiful, and cheap lunch buffets that are everywhere in Uganda. The spread usually includes “matoke” (mashed plantains), sweet potatoes, irish potatoes, ugali, kale, avacado, salad, and usually some chicken, beef, and/or goat in soups or curry sauces. A fairly healthy selection, and usually tasty, minus the ugali of course (that’s just me . . .). Second stop was for some “minor” car repairs. Turns out the brake lights on our van weren’t working. Now, this is definitely a problem wherever you are, but here in Africa where everyone is driving, let’s call it “extremely aggressively”, it is a bit of a death wish. We were thankful Nathan noticed the issue, and more than happy to wait while it was fixed.

We arrived at our tented camp around 4pm or so and were welcomed by three guys in uniform who carried our bags and brought us juice. Luxury! I have to say that I have become happily accustomed to the “welcome drink”, which is consistently provided upon arrival at most accommodation here in East Africa. The drives are normally dusty, hot, and long, so a glass of fresh passion, orange, mango or other fruit juice is so fabulous.

The camp itself, Kibale Nature Lodges, was really quaint and prettier than those we had stayed at in Kenya. The bathroom was less advanced, but in a way cuter. We had a “bush toilet” where instead of flushing, you just shoveled in a few scoops of dirt each time. Ingenious. There was no running water, so in order to take a shower, the staff would heat water for us and fill up a sort of tank, letting us know when it was ready for us to turn the shower on. The water lasted maybe 4 minutes. Those who know me and my too-long showers at home will wonder how I managed this. However, I tended to feel a little guilty for all of the work that went into my wash. So, I learned to make it quick, because once your water runs out, it is out. There are no second chances for rinsing off that soap. Unless of course you want to be the high maintenance jerk asking the poor guys to heat and carry more and more water. (I didn’t! I swear!)

The other thing which was lovely about camp, and seems to be unique to Uganda, was the wake up call we received each morning, at this and all of the camps during the week actually. One of the guys would come by and call out “good morning” to us, leaving us hot tea and biscuits outside our tent. How spoiled are we! I’m trying to convince Perry this would be a nice tradition for him to take up, but he hasn’t come around just yet.

We spent two nights at this camp, but really only one day of activities. The morning was spent chimp tracking, and the afternoon on a “swamp walk”. The chimpanzee tracking was amazing! We were lucky in that there was only four of us; Perry and I, and a nice older couple from Washington D.C. The guys at the hotel warned us to wear neutral colors, long sleeves and long pants, and to tuck in our pants to our socks to avoid “safari ants”. We were geared up for an arduous hike. In reality, we had walked not even 15 minutes when we heard the first chimpanzee sounds. They are loud! They use vocalization and also bang on trees to communicate with each other over distances. (Our guide also used these sounds to track them.) We saw one male actually cross the road (a photo opportunity which I unfortunately missed because I had the camera on the wrong setting . . . oops!) and basically followed him to a larger group. We saw a mom and baby playing and the baby breast feeding. At one point, there was a chimpanzee sleeping on the ground a meter or two away from us and we didn’t even notice him until he got up! Overall, we saw about 15 individuals, and we were allowed to spend an hour with them. It was really incredible to just hang out and watch them. You feel like they are really making eye contact, interacting with you. The pictures didn’t turn out so well because of the lighting (you can’t use flash of course), but you can still make out some of their antics and funny facial expressions.

After lunch back at camp, we went for a walk in the Bigodi Wetland Sanctuary, a community project nearby. The swamp, called the “Magombe Swamp” provides the opportunity to see loads of bird species, butterflies, and more primates, mostly various types of monkeys (black and white colobus, red colobus, red tailed monkey, grey cheeked mangabey, etc.). We saw all of the above, plus papyrus, which I had never imagined what it looked like, and of course baboons. People don’t get so excited about baboons because they are everywhere and considered a bit like pests, but I think they are so cute and hilarious to watch. The walk was just that, a leisurely stroll, boardwalked over the actual swampy bits, and of course we were guided by a local man (you can’t do anything without a guide in Africa it seems). Our guide was called Julius, and the best story he told us was about the hornbills. According to Julius, hornbills are life partners, always together. Even if one bird dies, the other will never find a new mate. How romantic! Julius found it funny that Perry and I were just as impressed with the baboons and monkeys as we were with rare birds such as the great blue turaco, which apparently some people make this trip solely for. It was a nice way to spend the hot afternoon, and we were happy that the entrance fees, guide fees, and profits from our inevitable souvenir purchases were going towards useful projects in the local village.

Queen Elizabeth National Park

We left the Kibale area early the next morning. Our destination was Queen Elizabeth National Park, which was actually just a bonus for us due to booking the week long safari, as we hadn’t originally had it on our Uganda destination list. On the way we stopped to see various crater lakes around Kibale NP. I don’t think this was on the original agenda, but as soon as I enquired about them, Nathan made a point of giving us a chance for a stroll and a look. Accordingly, a couple of days into the trip, we were feeling lucky with Nathan, who was really friendly, not intrusive at all, and very professional.

The best thing about QENP was our accommodation. It was the most lovely place. I wanted to stay longer. We had a little “bandas” (i.e. cabin sort of structure) overlooking the Kazinga Channel. Directly in front of our balcony, albeit a safe distance away, was a favorite spot for hippos. There was not one time during our stay when there were not hippos bathing in that spot. We could just sit and watch them, and we could hear them at all times. It was really amazing! Although we didn’t actually experience any of them getting uncomfortably close, we had an escort to and from dinner each night just to be sure. I especially enjoyed the morning tea wake up calls at this spot. Sitting there in the early morning, drinking my tea, listening to the hippos and watching them entering back into the water after a night of feeding, I couldn’t help but feel so so lucky with my life and my surroundings. Add to this the absolutely magnificent menu and chef, the nightly campfires, the cute outdoor shower, and the fact that everything was shiny and new (the place had only opened a couple of months prior), and I was in heaven.

As far as activities at QENP, we did a couple of game drives, and a boat trip on the Kazinga Channel, which connects Lake Edward and Lake George. I have to admit that Perry and I were both a bit “ho-hum” about the game drives, as we had so recently been spoiled with wildlife in Masai Mara. However, you don’t really tire of seeing huge wild elephants and their young crossing the road in front of you. We actually saw a baby elephant breast feeling from its’ mother. I am consistently surprised at how the animals go about their lives without barely a nod in the direction of our safari vehicles. On one of our game drives we had an interesting park guide who was adept at making up information regarding animal habits, etc. Some of the things he told us made no sense at all, or were in direct contradiction to what we’d learned previously. We just smiled, nodded, and said “Oh really? How interesting!”. Afterwards Nathan commented that some guides just “talk too much”.

Matthew, the inaccurate park guide, was interesting nonetheless, not due to his knowledge of the wildlife and their habits, but because of his experiences as a park ranger throughout Uganda’s history (he had about 20 years experience). He told us about how during certain periods the rangers just gave up and could do nothing because there were so many poachers who were just better armed than they were. A sad truth, which is evidenced by the lower concentrations of wildlife in the park. Matthew wasn’t all shining armor, wildlife protector though, as he tried to convince Nathan to go off the marked path so that Perry and I could take closer pictures of some lions; an action that would surely invite hefty fines if caught. (We assured Nathan that we already had more than enough lion photos and were happy to observed from a distance . . .)

The Kanzinga Channel boat trip was interesting because it allowed us to see more and more hippos and buffalos in the water, as well as the chance to spot crocodiles. In actuality we only saw one tiny croc, which we of course zoomed right in on to get a photo. The interesting thing about the channel is that it’s current changes direction depending on the lake levels.

The boat also went past some of the local villages situated near the water. Certain local people, who inhabited the area long before establishment of the national park, are allowed to reside within park boundaries. However, they can only fish. They cannot grow anything or have any domestic animals. All of their needs must be met by selling fish at market, which seems a tough existence to me. We saw certain very brave locals fishing and actually getting out of their boats into the water right beside groups of hippos! Nathan’s comment was, “Those boys really don’t value their lives”. I tend to agree with him, as I felt the one big hippo who swam up from under our larger boat carrying probably around 20 tourists The locals were in a tiny wooden canoe. Nathan told us that approximately 15 people die each month in the area due to run-ins with hippos and crocs in the water. (We didn’t really have an opportunity for verify that number . . .)

The absolute most exciting part of the boat trip though, was when the wind came up and the weather completely changed in about 30 seconds. One minute I was completely sweating and wondering how we’d managed to end up on the sunny side of the boat with absolutely no shade, and the next minute I couldn’t get my rain jacket out of my backpack fast enough. It was incredible how the change happened so fast.

Bwindi Impenetable National Park

Next morning we set out for Bwindi Impenetrable, home of the mountain gorillas and our ultimate destination. It was not reached without incident.

First stop was a small village where Nathan wanted to buy some meat for his father-in-law, who lives in Kisoro, the town nearest to Bwindi where we would also be staying. No problem of course, we said, we would wait in the van. The day was hot as usual, so I had my window open. With our experiences in Uganda to date being so friendly and favorable, I saw no reason to close the window when we stopped. That is, until a scraggly looking man came up to it and thrust a banana at me, stating, “Take this banana or I will beat you!”. Strange. Not in the habit of accepting anything from crazy strangers, I did nothing and attempted to close my window. The man continued to carry on, yelling and throwing bananas at us and our vehicle. The other locals around seemed amused, and mildly embarrassed, by the incident. A few of them tried to chase the crazy guy away, but to no avail. The tipping point for poor Nathan was when the guy finally picked up a rock as if to throw it at us as well. Nathan had to abandon his thoughtful gesture, hop back in the drivers’ seat, and take off in fear that this crazy man would damage his vehicle, and perhaps also his clients. In truth, there are quite a few “crazies” to be spotted be the roads and in the small villages along the way. Nathan blames the local brew for their behavior, and apparent mental issues.

Safe and sound on the road, we had a bit of a laugh and continued on our way. Perry and I were settled back into our books, when and hour or so later we all felt and heard some sort of crack/snap/pop coming from our vehicle. I thought we had popped a tire. Nathan pulled over to take a look and although all of the tires looked fine, it didn’t take him long to figure out the problem. We had actually broken the rear axle. Not that I know anything about mechanics, but this didn’t seem to be a minor problem! I can’t say whether the break down was due to poor vehicle maintenance (perhaps the brake lights were just foreshadowing?), Nathan’s aggressive and very fast driving (skilled, but aggressive), or the general atrocious state majority of the roads are in, but at this point it didn’t matter. We were hours from Kisoro and stranded in the middle of nowhere.

In about 3 minutes we were surrounded by onlooking children, but not one motorist stopped to see if we were alright, and not one person walking by offered assistance. One girl asked if I would give her my clothes, and one lady assured me “not to fear”, which I hadn’t until she said that. (Fear what!?! Is there something to fear? Oh dear . . .) Luckily for us though, we had Nathan. I now believe that he is the handiest man on earth. After about an hour, the use of various large stones, an archaic jack, and what I could see was extreme and sweaty effort, he somehow managed to fix the car using only a stick and piece of rope. Yes, that is correct. He basically tied the axle back together with a stick and a piece of rope. It was unbelievable. We had to stop once to replace the stick, but apart from that his “repair job” got us the remainder of the distance, maybe 2 hours or so driving over horrendous roads full of pot holes, to Kabale, the next town. (Not to be confused with Kibale National Park, our first stop) Perry and I were pretty much useless to poor Nathan, apart from obediently searching for rocks and sticks when asked. It was slightly embarrassing.

The second most amazing thing about Nathan, apart from him fixing the vehicle with a rope and a stick, was how completely calm he remained the entire time. He did not show any frustration, although it took him numerous attempts to accomplish the job. He even dropped us off for lunch in Kabale first, taking time to introduce us to the waitress, rather than heading straight to the mechanic. It was commendable. I don’t believe I know anyone else who could be so cool in such a situation.

After leaving Kabale, we realized just how lucky we were that the breakdown happened when it did. The road from Kabale to Kisoro was actually the worst we’d been on in Uganda yet. It was a mountain road full of hairpin turns with no guard rails. And of course it was extremely bumpy. Perry told me to relax and “just trust” while Nathan sped along, trying to reach our destination before dark. Instead I hung on in terror for most of the ride. We eventually reached Kisoro safely around 7pm and checked into the Travelers’ Rest Hotel, which Dian Fossey (Gorillas in the Mist) had called her “second home”. If it was anything like it is now back then, I can see why. We enjoyed a fabulous 4 course meal by candlelight, in the company of a couple of other Canadians which was a nice treat, prior to heading straight for sleep in our comfy bed. We needed to rest up in anticipation of the next day’s gorilla tracking.

We started the day at 5am, breakfast at 5:30. We had a nearly two hour drive from Kisoro to the park entrance where our gorilla briefing was to take place at 7:45am. Now, you’d think that after the previous day’s heroics, I would never doubt Nathan, but I have to say I was a bit nervous that we were going to miss it. Our LP stresses how strict the process is, and that if you are late for the briefing they will just carry on without you, and will not refund your USD500 permit fee. I kept telling myself that Nathan had probably been there so many times that he knew the way and how to arrive on time. However when he started stopping for directions after about an hour and a half driving I was really concerned. Turns out I just needed to remember that, “There is no hurry in Africa”. We arrived no problem and were lucky to find that there were only 4 tourists tracking that day, including Perry and I. (Normally there are 8. How anyone could afford to not show up for something like that, I don’t know.)

Again, we were prepared for a strenuous hike through the rain forest. We were covered in deet, with our pants tucked into our socks and our shirts tucked into our beltless pants . . . looking really cool. We were excited and a bit nervous. “Could be up to 9 hours of steep climbing!” “Could be very tough going and you are likely to encounter rain!” I think all of this warning is really just conditioning so that you will feel justified to hire one of the local porters to carry your daypack. (Of course we did, and I once again ended up with a stinky bag . . . this time unnecessarily.)

In reality we walked only about hour and a half along an enjoyably moderate trail before finding the group we were in search of, which was comprised of around 35 gorillas. It was an eventful hike though, if not a strenuous one. We were happily walking along, chatting quietly to the English couple tracking with us (so as not to disturb any wildlife) when suddenly we heard a very loud crack, like a tree falling down. It was actually a tree being broken by the giant elephant which was about 10 feet away and moving towards us. Perry actually saw the elephant’s face come out from the foliage, but I didn’t. I just heard our guide yelling “Run! Run!” and saw the fellow with the big gun, who had been leading the way to protect us, fall flat on his bum in fear. Anyone who’s been hiking with me before knows that I have an irrational fear of hopping rocks over streams, even when the water is maybe a foot deep. Well, this time I had no trouble sprinting back, up hills and over water. Our “protector” eventually managed to fire a few shots in the air and scare the elephant away. We stopped for a few moments, and then continued on our way.

Our time with the gorillas was surreal. First you can see the trees and bushes moving, and you can hear them. The trackers vocalize as well to alert the gorillas to our presence. Then suddenly, a big silverback was right there in front of us, all relaxed and having his breakfast, i.e. devouring entire trees. We sat and watched that one silverback for maybe 15 minutes. I swear he looked directly into my eyes. We were less than 2 meters away from him, but he barely seemed to care that we were there. He would look over now and then, and just continue on with his feeding.

We were able to see females, males, and babies eating, drinking, playing, and crossing a stream. Perry saw one male actually “charge” one of our trackers, basically just making a show of strength to keep us in our place. He said he was glad the tracker was in between him and the gorilla. No kidding! The entire time was really an incredible, once in a lifetime experience. I thought the most interesting part about them was their facial expressions. They are so human! We were able to spend only about an hour with the gorillas, so as not to cause them stress. It went by really quickly, but the experience was fully worth the $500 spent.

On the hike back we ran into another elephant, thankfully this time at a safe distance. And, our guides pointed out a puff adder, one of the more deadly snakes, on the side of the path. Yikes!

On the drive back to Kisoro we also ran into another “crazy”. This time the man tried to play chicken with our vehicle, just planting himself in the middle of the road. I think I have mentioned how fast Nathan drives, so you can realize that this was really a bold thing to do. Nathan stopped just short of running him over, and when the man refused to move, he just went around him, clipping his face with the side mirror. A ranger, whom we were giving a ride back to Kisoro, reached out the window on the way by and punched the guy in the face as well! We are definitely not in “non-confrontational” Asia anymore . . .

We spent the remainder of the day at the Travelers Rest, doing just that, and reading books about gorillas. I intended to buy Gorillas in the Mist at that point, which I’m at the moment reading, but I think the book they had in the bar there was more interesting. It was a collection of Dian Fossey’s personal letters, and scandalous stories about her life’s affairs and temper tantrums. I didn’t realize that she was such a strange character. I suppose you have to be a little bit “unique” though, to spend years and years in the forest all on your own.

Home to Entebbe

Next day we made the long, dusty drive all the way back to Entebbe, which is a town on Lake Victoria just about 30 minutes from Kampala. Nathan thanked us over lunch for being relaxed clients and not giving him any “headaches”! He said that many of his clients are “complicated”, stopping short of implying that many tourists are unreasonable and demanding. We were glad he didn’t find us to be so. We tipped him generously, which he fully deserved not only due to his handy work keeping us on the road.

One sad observation from the week was the extent to which begging appeared to be the norm in the Ugandan countryside. Neither of us remember experiencing that, even in the poorest areas of Cambodia or Laos. It seemed that nearly all of the children we met would ask for money. Each time the car slowed down a bit we were greeted with chants of “Give me money!” and outstretched hands.

We saw a lot of gorgeous, green landscapes in Uganda, which surprised us. For some reason, green lush landscape is not what either of us envisioned prior to coming to Africa. We also enjoyed numerous stunning sunrises and sunsets, which is true of our entire trip really. I’ve never noticed before how gorgeous the sky is; the clouds, the colors, and the vastness of it. I don’t know if Asian and African skies are truly more spectacular than those at home, or if I just never took enough time to look up. I really feel like these past months have given me a chance to stop thinking, and truly enjoy my surroundings. One memory from this particular week in Uganda is brushing my teeth in our outdoor bathroom near QENP. I could hear sounds of birds and hippos, and a bright red bird flew down, landing on the fence in front of me. The bird just sat there looking at me while I brushed, and I thought how relaxed and happy I felt, just to be there brushing my teeth. After 7 months, I’m finally learning to slow down.

Uploading photos is a bit of a challenge in Africa, but I'm working on it. They will soon be at http://gallery.me.com/adamschen