So it begins

Crazy lady!

Published Date : December 12, 2004

Most of the others in my group went white water rafting today.  Having already gone rafting before, I elected to go on a guided ATV tour instead.  Feeling budget conscious, I went with the one-hour trip.  It cost US$45 to rent a quad bike and my guide, Livingstone.

Donning the included helmet and oh-so-stylish protective jumpsuit, I started out with a few laps around the practice circuit to refresh my skills.  The last time I had ridden an ATV had been when I was about 10 years old, but it all came back to me soon enough.

With Livingstone in the lead, we left Jinja behind, following an easy trail along the river. Winding our way through small villages and past isolated homes, I was so glad I had decided to do this.  While the route was well-travelled by tourists, it allowed me a glimpse into a part of Africa that is inaccessible by car.

We stopped near a small family home along the way, so that Livingstone could introduce me to jackfruit.  These large green fruits with their pebbled skin are found all over East Africa and are a staple in the local diet.  They can grow up to as much as 80lbs in weight!

I’m not sure I even know where to begin to describe the flesh of this fruit.  It’s sweet, but tart at the same time, and kind of banana-like.  It’s also very fibrous, somewhat similar in texture to mango, but firmer.  Definitely not an easy chew.

Our pace was leisurely as we continued on our journey.  With no other people booked for the afternoon, Livingstone was happy to go beyond the hour I had paid for.  He took me on a tour of his village, Kyabirwa.  A very poor village with a life expectancy of only 48 years, they were hoping for assistance from the hydroelectric company that is planning a new dam in the area.  If the dam project goes ahead, the Bujagali Falls will be flooded, eliminating a major tourist draw for the area and with it, the much needed tourist dollars and jobs.  That doesn’t even touch on the spiritual and cultural importance of the falls to the local people.

Back on the trail, Livingstone took me down a steep, rutted path to a small plateau on the edge of the river.  From there, we waited for the rest of my group to come by on their rafting trip.  We arrived just in time to see a spectacular collision of raft and rock as everyone aboard was dumped into the water!  The other boats quickly came over and pulled everyone out of the water.  Talking to Amy later that night, she said that she had gotten stuck under the flipped boat and had a moment of panic before finally finding her way to the surface!

My own moment of panic came about 10 minutes later.  Turning to head back up the hill, I misjudged my speed going up a particularly steep and uneven section of trail.  One moment I was comfortably atop the quad, and the next I was flat on my back watching in slow motion as the ATV flipped back towards me.  I somehow managed to scramble out of the way, but not fast enough.  The quad clipped my upper arm on the way by as it continued to tumble back down the path.

Livingstone hurried back to check on me where I lay winded on the side of the trail.  Seeing that I was alright, he immediately went to check on the ATV to make sure it was still intact.  Miraculously it had survived the roll without so much as a scratch.

Climbing shakily to my feet, I peeled off my jumpsuit to the waist to examine my throbbing arm.  Everything seemed to be in working order, but I knew I was going to have one hell of a bruise by tomorrow.  Walking the last few metres to the top of the hill, I waited for Livingstone to bring the ATV up to me.  For some reason he didn’t trust me to try and ride it up the hill again ��

“You are crazy lady,” Livingstone chastised me with a smile and a shake of his head.

Safely back at camp, I discovered that despite the jumpsuit, the fine red dust of Uganda had still managed to permeate all of my clothes.  I was also sporting a stylish farmer’s “tan” of red dust all over my face and arms.  Nothing a nice hot shower couldn’t fix!

I spent what was left of the afternoon reading and packing up my tent.  Before I left London I had picked up an army surplus mosquito net and tonight was the night I was going to make use of it.  Stringing it up under a tree, I laid out my sleeping back underneath it then headed off to the bar to anaesthetize my aching arm.

Feeling blue

Published Date : December 13, 2004

The problem with buying an army surplus mosquito net is that they are green.  Unlike the white ones sold in retail stores, green really doesn’t stand out well at night against a green tree.  I had no less than three people walk into me last night.  Sigh.  Apart from those few rude interruptions, it was an excellent night under the stars.  I’m going to have to make a point of skipping the tent more often on this trip!

The rest of the morning was not so blissful.  As expected, I woke up to find my arm swollen and purple from shoulder to elbow.  Ouch.  I also discovered another decent sized bruise on my hip from my less-than-graceful dismount from the ATV yesterday.

Already feeling a bit out of sorts, I was less than impressed when two of the English lads were over an hour late this morning throwing off the entire plan for the day.  We were meant to stop off in Kampala so that one of the others in our group could sort out his visa for South Africa.  Because of the late start, the embassy was closed when we finally arrived in town.   We were meant to spend the night in Mpanga Forest, but ended up having to stay in Kampala instead.

I’m finding the social aspect of this trip is starting to get to me a bit.  While having my own tent is great for finding much needed alone time and decompressing, I’m still struggling.  Especially after incidents like this morning, I find that I’m just pissed off a lot of the time when I’m around the entire group at once.  For the most part I get along with everyone well enough, but there’s nobody that I feel any sort of real connection or companionship with.  I’m definitely feeling a bit lonely these days.  Staying in regular contact with Greg and my family is proving to be a challenge as well which doesn’t help.  I’ve had success checking my email a few times, but the connections are unreliable, so I don’t often get to send anything.  Text messages can only get your so far and calling from a landline is insanely expensive, so not an option.  The challenges of overlanding in Africa…