Getting There and Uganda
The grand Spring Break 2011 adventure officially began on the morning of Friday March 11 at 5am when, in the dark, we all shuffled sleepily into a taxi and made our way to the Ubungo bus station (which is sketchy even in the day time). As is the manner of salesmen and con artists in Dar es Salaam, we were immediately swarmed by 'ticket salesmen' and 'bus conductors' trying to lure and persuade us to get on their buses despite our repeated explanations that no, we in fact already HAD our tickets and did not want to go to who knows where in Ethiopia or Mozambique. I sent up a silent thanks that one of the boys in our program had ventured to Ubungo earlier that week with me to secure our tickets...now if we could just find the bus..? Whether it be from living in Arcata where our long-distance bus terminal consists of a maximum of two buses or from our lack of sleep, the close to one hundred buses and the weaving passageways between them at Ubungo were definitely confusing and intimidating. Finally, with the help of our taxi driver we found our bus and all hopped on. At this time our group consisted of four girls (Kim L, Kim M, Kelly and I) and two boys (Grant and Elliott) so we were definitely well represented on the bus and dominated the first few rows. Claiming seniority I, selfishly but thankfully, snagged the window seat and sat down next to Grant. The bus ride, from Dar es Salaam to Nairobi, Kenya and then from Nairobi to Kampala, Uganda took 29+ hours, not including the extended layover in Nairobi but it only cost us $50 and the scenery was stunning. My toilet worries were put to rest when the bus driver let us stop to go to the bathroom half a dozen times during the ride...how nice of him on such a long trip! Grant got off in Nairobi to go pursue his own adventures so by the time we got into Jinja we were only five. Thankfully the bus driver let us off in Jinja instead of taking us all the way to Kampala or we would have had to back track the two hours which at this point would not have been appreciated in the least. Slightly delirious but energized because we were off the bus we went immediately to our 'river camp' overlooking the Nile. The plan was one free night's accommodation (as per our rafting agreement) on the 12th and then a two day rafting excursion down the Nile on the 13th and 14th and a free day in Kampala on the 15th. The river camp, dorm style, was a blessing after the night's sleep on the bus and was located on the top of a hill over looking the source of the Nile. Even though we were getting our adrenaline fix for the year through white water rafting the five of us decided that we would try to bungee jump sometime after the rafting. Unfortunately with our schedule and location on the river for the next two days we were informed that it was bungee jump that day or not at all! That took me off guard! I don't know what sort of mental pep talks I had intended to give myself over the next couple of days but I had purposefully not thought about jumping off a landing 44 meters ( 144 ft) above the source of the Nile. Regardless, we all hopped into a taxi and made our way to Nile High Bungee. Much to my surprise I didn't panic (maybe I was still in a daze from the bus ride?) and dove off the platform "like a champ", or so said the workers at the bottom. The worst moment was shuffling forward with the harness around my ankles to the edge of the platform doing everything I could to not look down; thankfully the scenery was interesting and I focused on that. Right before I jumped I remember thinking to myself "If my parents could see me now they would both go completely gray!, Heck if I could see myself right now I would probably go completely gray!". And don't worry mom, before I even considered going up I asked multiple people about the possibility of detached retinas and, given reassuring answers, I jumped and was fine.
After we had all gotten that adrenaline fix (Elliott even dunked his head in the Nile on his jump!) we went back to the river camp and crashed. For some reason I was unable to sleep so I sat outside on a bench overlooking the Nile during sunset and wrote postcards...it was lovely. Everyone came out to join me a little later and we spent our free night playing cards, eating delicious food and watching silly drunk people (at 9pm!) dance and react to the Manchester vs. Chelsea game on T.V. It was the perfect night before our big rafting adventure the next morning.
Much to my surprise I was awake bright and early again the next morning, all packed and ready to go! I remember thinking to myself that I must be an adrenaline junky in denial...bungee jumping and class five white water rafting all in one stretch? Definitely the case. We said goodbye to our river camp and drove to the main camp a few km inland and suited up. Nothing sexier than a helmet and a poofy life jacket! Good thing I wasn't trying to attract anyone and instead trying to stay safe right? As we were sitting outside having some tea and coffee it began to rain on us, which I suppose wasn't too bad because we WERE going to be wet all day on the river, but it turned out to be the beginning of a much larger storm unbeknownst to us. Breakfast was simple but wonderful...we had fried eggs wrapped in chapati (yum yum!) and I nearly yelled in excitement when they served us passion fruit. The drive was a little longer than normal because the creation of a dam upstream eliminated some of the closer rapids. "In order to guarantee class five rapids we have to take you farther down the river" our rafting guide told us. As it seems most rafting guides are (from my experience), our guide was a thirty year old rafting enthusiast who had traveled the world, not for the interesting cultures and people but for the country's white water. She is originally from South Africa and while petite, looked like she could successfully wrestle a water buffalo...I felt comfortable having someone like her as a guide. Suited up and ready to go (well, half of our group was scared witless after he safety talk) we went out into the water and practiced how to 'survive' if flipped out of the boat. One of the girls mentioned afterward that being flipped out then was one of the scariest moments of the rafting trip...not completely true in my opinion but our guide definitely meant business. When rafting your raft guide is god and when they say "back left, get down!" by gosh you do what they say.
Unfortunately the first rapid was a class three and after a successful run through it we all became a little over confident in our rafting ability. Not to say that anything went seriously wrong later in the trip, but we just weren't prepared for the events that would take place farther down the river. Remember that storm that I mentioned before? Well it decided, about two hours into our trip and past the point of no return, that it was going to release all of its fury right on top of us. The clouds had been rolling in over us for a while, but hadn't started raining so we weren't really bothered except by the little chill that had set in. A couple minutes before our guide stopped our raft and told us to listen to what was down the river. We all fell silent and listened, straining to look as well but the rapid was around the corner and out of sight. It sounded furious and far too big for my appetite...maybe that bungee jump stole some of my confidence. She told us that this rapid coming up (with some traumatizingly frightening name like 'Hells Gate' or 'Dead Dutchman' ) was a class six and no one, even the guides with 20+ years of experience, rafted the rapid. We would be stopping upriver and walking with our raft
around the rapid. But not to worry because we would still raft the bottom half which was a class five. Let me just say that the roar of that rapid around the corner was not instilling much confidence in me. We paddled a little further down and when we came around the corner the river had opened up, splitting into two segments separated by an island, and proceeded to fall down a series of three 10-15ft waterfalls and then against some submerged rocks creating walls of waves that I am sure would flip a raft instantaneously. I don't know how we did it but we paddled to the shore a couple meters before the rapid without getting too caught in the quick current and all got out of the raft. When we got to a clear section we could see the rapid for what it really was. It was terrifying! And of course right at that moment that we are all taking in the horror and intensity of the rapid the heavens opened up and began pelting us with blindingly cold and hard rain. Possibly in shock from staring at the massiveness of the rapid I scuttled (not too gracefully) back into the raft. We were to paddle "hard right" and then jump right in where those walls of waves began, only we couldn't really see because of the rain. I looked to Kim, the ultimate outdoorsy and 'badass' girl I could think of, she tightened my life jacket and gave me a nod of encouragement, and we pushed off. In much of the same way as I 'don't remember' the first few seconds of free fall on the bungee jump, I don't really remember the panicked paddling in the pelting rain through that rapid, just the feeling of relief when we hit calm water. We hadn't flipped out but the rain had gotten harder and was mixed in with some hail (which doesn't feel too good when all you have on is a life jacket and a short sleeved shirt to protect your upper body) which decreased visibility. As the river was pulling us towards the next rapid our guide decided that hmm, maybe it wasn't a good idea to raft down the next rapid near blind, and as the rain kept getting harder and fiercer we had to take shelter under the trees of a near by island. Bug and twigs in my hair aside, I was infinitely grateful to be out of the rain. Contacts and rain are not conducive to that whole seeing thing and the last place I wanted to be was out in the open going towards another rapid. Once the rain calmed down (thought it was definitely still coming down steadily) we rafted out from under the island's trees and jumped in the water to warm up. I hopped up back into the raft just in time because we drifted over a rock in the water and it banged some of the people's toes still in the water. Things lurking in the water are no bueno! Everyone was OK but they all got out of the water immediately after that. We had about six more rapids after that (about twelve in total) that went well and we were rewarded with a delicious and hot meal when we were done.
Soaking wet but full with yummy food we stopped at the Hairy Lemon for the night. The creatively named Hairy Lemon is an island in the middle of the Nile that is a camping stop over for rafters and kayakers. Dad you would be proud...you taught me well in Indian Princesses. I pitched a tent all by myself! And it didn't even fall over on me in the middle of the night! I was thrilled to be camping, and in dry clothes, but I got food poisoning and spent the night and morning throwing up and in the bathroom. Needless to say I didn't go rafting the next day but I was OK with that. Instead the staff on the island fed me healthy tomato and onion sandwiches and I sat in a rocking chair, under a cabana, reading my favorite book while listening to the rain fall around me. Apparently the second day of rafting was much more relaxed and there were only three rapids in four hours, so I am actually really glad how I spent my day. I met up with the rest of the gang later that day and a free shuttle took us to our hostel, The Red Chilli, in Kampala. Due to a lack of available room we
had to take the cottage with full kitchen, living room, and backyard for the
same price as the other clients...oh woe to us and our fortune! We were even cursed with running hot water!
Unfortunately elections had just happened that week and apparently it is a trend for most restaurants and businesses to close (in fear of protests or because they know tourists named Jennifer are hungry and want to eat) so our plans to go out to a nice dinner and then go out to a couple clubs was thrown out and we resorted to a lavish dinner of pringles, twix, and water at The Red Chilli. No worries because we stuffed our faces the next day. Pancakes and bacon (
REAL bacon) for breakfast and to-die-for Indian food in the afternoon. Our full day in Kampala was filled with interesting sights, a lot of time spent in banks depositing money for the Rwandan gorilla trek (more info to come on that!) and some shopping time at a mall clearly aimed at tourists. Due to some scheduling changes we didn't end up spending another night at The Red Chilli but rather hopped on another bus from Kampala to Kigali, Rwanda around 11pm. It was raining as we got on the bus...I would like to think Uganda was shedding a tear or two on behalf of our departure. Uganda was wonderful and full of adventure but Rwanda topped anything that I could have conceived.
To Be Continued....
