To see photos of OUR AFRICAN ODYSSEY, click here   PHOTO GALLERY

We hope to update our diary on a regular basis, while we are travelling.  However, there may be delays in areas where it is difficult to access an internet cafe!

ENGLAND

August 2005          Purchased 'The Beast'  from Footloose 4x4.  Also purchased 'Howling Moon' Roof Top tent.                                    

September 2005     Took 'The Beast' to Cornwall, for a week camping.  The vehicle performed well, not at all greedy with fuel.

                                 However, although David had no problems, I am taking a while to acclimatise to driving a heavy vehicle!

March 2006            Delivered 'The Beast' to Footloose 4x4, to organise customised modifications.

April 2006              Started an extensive course of vaccinations

June 2006               Took 'The Beast' to the Lake District, to trial all our new equipment.

                                 Went to London for a day to visit embassies to start the 'paper trail' for visas.

July 2006                Spent an enjoyable day on Salisbury Plain, learning the techniques of 4-wheel driving.

   Had our medical MOT, and were pleased to discover we are not decrepit yet, and good for

   another few miles!

August 2006          David spent a week with Jonathan, learning about the mechanics of 'The Beast' and how to perform

                                 the necessary checks and services.   

                                 Returned to 'Footloose' for some final mods and for some training with Paul.

                                Had a great day on Salisbury Plain, and then back to Nick and Vicki's for a 'Braai' with some fellow

                               'Overlanders',  who made us very welcome, despite the fact that they were all half our age!   We look forward

                               to meeting up with some of them on our travels.

 September 2006   Left UK for France, later than planned.

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FRANCE

September 2006 

Had a really good journey down through France, stopping overnight in Troyes.  We arrived in a wonderful site near Chamonix Mont Blanc, in the middle of the Alps.  Enjoyed a few days relaxing and walking, soaking up the scenery.  Very hot for three days, then the weather changed.  Good to experience the wind and rain and know that the tent is waterproof - not wind proof though!  Very noisy in strong winds, and I had to move inside the vehicle to get any sleep!

On our final day in Chamonix, we went to the top of Mont Blanc - two cable cars and a lift.  I am told that the views on the way up were spectacular, but I don't know, as I kept my eyes closed!  At the top we had a very welcome hot chocolate:  the temperature was sub zero, visibility nil, and it was snowing.  I declined taking the final cable car down, so instead we took a fantastic 2 1/2 hour walk around the mountain, returning on the funicular railway.

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ITALY

September 2006

Our journey into Italy through the Mont Blanc tunnel and SE to Genoa was uneventful.  But it was fortunate that we had allowed ourselves plenty of time, as we were hopelessly lost in Genoa, taking an hour to find the ferry.  It doesn't bode well for our navigation through Africa!  The ferry was luxurious, and we had a relaxing crossing.

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TUNISIA

September 2006

We are in Africa!  Tunisia marks the meeting of two worlds:  in the cities one could be in almost any cosmopolitan European city, but outside it is a different story.

On our arrival in Tunisia we had our first encounter with beaurocracy.  We had to fill in numerous forms for the ‘Douane’ and the ‘Policia’ which all needed to be checked and stamped.  We were taken over by an official who spoke English and who hustled us from booth to booth.  Once the process was complete, we thanked him and he promptly demanded payment for his services!  Incidentally, despite our requests, they refused to stamp our Carnet, stating that it was ‘not necessary’!

 There was heavy traffic heading into the city, and we therefore decided to head north, to Raf-Raf.  However, driving at night time is not easy and the roads through villages are full of pedestrians, bikes and donkeys!  We finally arrived at our destination, and camped on the beach.  It wasn’t the picturesque surroundings the guide book had described, but we had a good night’s sleep.

From there we set off for Cap Serrat, in the far north, stopping for lunch in the picturesque fishing town of Bizerte.  Camping on the beach at Cap Serrat was very pleasant.  The only other people around were young fishermen, mainly sitting around chatting and smoking.  It seems the women are the ones who do all the work around here! There were also cows, goats and stray dogs on the beach!  On our second day, Lotfi caught us some fish for supper.  We also had a visit from Assam, who wished to practice his English on us – and to tell us about the customs of Islam and the superiority of Islam over Christianity, which he and David debated at some length!

We headed south, and visited the Roman remains at Bella Regia – which we walked around at temperatures of 40⁰!  We welcomed the subterranean houses, built to protect the inhabitants from the summer heat!  That evening, we asked the police in a local town where we could camp, and were told to set up camp in their car park.  We had a busy market on one side, and a mosque on the other:  entertaining to be woken at 6 a.m. with the calls to prayer from the megaphones!

Passing through the attractive hill top town of Le Kef, we continued south to Tozeur, the ‘gateway to the Sahara’.  Here we found our first real campsite in Tunisia.  We also met some other overlanders, a group of South Africans, in four vehicles, who were heading into Algeria and then planned to follow the west side of the continent back to South Africa.  We were camping amongst the date palms, with dates falling at our feet!  Whilst in Tozeur, we enjoyed a trip by horse and cart through the ‘Palmeraie’ to see how the dates are cultivated and harvested, and then went to the ‘Belvedere’ rock to watch the sun go down over the oasis – quite and experience, our first African sunset!

From Tozeur, we headed south-east, to Douz, another oasis town.  We crossed the salt lakes on a causeway – quite eerie in the bright light.  This is the area where ‘Star Wars’ was filmed.  At the campsite, we met up again with Eileen and Antonio, a lovely Italian couple who had camped beside us at Douz.  Once again, we found that the internet facilities were very slow, and connections poor, so it will be a while before we can upload our web pages. 

We then headed into the desert proper:  We drove for 70 km along an unmade road to Ksar Ghilane, a desert oasis with hot springs – the site for the filming of ‘The English Patient’.  ‘The Beast’ coped very well with the route – only getting bogged down in sand once, and David managed to extricate us without the use of sand ladders and shovels!  I did not cope quite as well with the bumps –my suspension isn’t as good as that of the vehicle! - and David  assures me that worse is to come in the Sudan!  Temperatures reached 42⁰, very hot and sticky.  The hot springs were not appealing, we preferred a cold shower!

We decided to head for the coast, and cooler temperatures.  We spent our last few days on the island of Jerba, reached by a causeway.  It is an area which caters for tourists, quite a contrast.  However, when David made his usual inspection of the vehicle, we discovered that one of the rear leaf springs would need replacing.

We were fortunate to discover a small Toyota garage, where they were able to replace the two rear leaf springs.  We ended up staying the night in our vehicle in the garage!  we were relieved to discover the problem at this stage of our journey, rather than later, when spare parts could have been less available.

Two weeks was not long enough to see all that we wanted to see in Tunisia, but we had time constraints, as we had a pre-booked itinerary for Libya.  The final leg of our trip was uneventful, and we stayed the night near the border, in order to make an early crossing the following morning.

A Backwards Glance at Tunisia:

• Getting through customs rekindling memories of trying to get past the school gate once: being shouted at, pushed and pulled about did us no harm, but feelings of intimidation were hard to suppress.  Being allowed to go after two hours and the ‘discretionary’ twenty Euros - then crossing the threshold into Africa.
• North to idyllic beach at Raf Raf, driving at night through village markets and crowds of people shouting and waving to us as they shopped at stalls set up across the main streets.  On the roads out of town through inky darkness, narrowly missing donkeys with no tail lights, and the ghostly unlit figures of foot travellers and cyclists.
• Rainy first night camping in a litter strewn car park adjacent to the ‘idyllic’ beach.  Looking up the definition of idyllic and getting annoyed and puzzled about how my beard trimmer could suck into itself the entire contents of a broken shampoo bottle.
• Refusing help from swarthy shepherd boy offering us directions to beach at Cap Serrat in return for cash and later inwardly regretting the way I felt.
•  Being welcomed and charmed out of Ten Tunisian Dinars each day by Lotfi and my introduction to the gentle game of ‘separating tourists from their cash’.  (The rules are simple but you start not knowing them and pay heavily while learning.  As the game progresses new rules are gradually introduced but by this time learning them gets less and less costly.  At the end of the game, if you have any cash left in your pocket, you pronounce yourself winner.)
• Near Bella Regia camping between a police station, a mosque and the local market and being drenched in sounds resembling excruciating pain, unabashed laughter and intense arguing all mixed together and served continuously in large helpings from dawn ‘til way past dusk. 
• Our first experience of driving through sand en route to Ksar Ghilane, and the sense we had of having arrived at a true desert outpost.
• Sleeping in a garage in Jerba where our vehicle was being repaired, (also home to the workers there).
• The crushing poverty in the North, the always friendly and polite receptions, the continual offers of help for cash, the way litter and especially plastic bottles punctuated every populated area.  The seemingly cruel treatment of animals, the social divide between men and women in the rural areas, the good food and strong coffee, the bizarre way thousand year old lifestyles and modern ways work side by side (people on donkeys amongst traffic on main highways being one example).

A thoroughly enjoyable experience, and introduction to Our African Odyssey.  

 

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LIBYA

October  2006

On arrival at the border, we were met by our guide, and he made our entry into Libya a very smooth process.  Salim is a very pleasant, gracious man and he immediately took control of our stay in Libya.  We would have preferred to be independent travellers, but this is not permitted in Libya and I must admit that it would have been difficult to negotiate the roads, where all signs are in Arabic, without a guide.  We found that Libya is something of a police state, with road blocks at the entrance to all towns and villages.  Salim just presented them with copies of our papers (in Arabic) and we were waved through.  He explained that this is necessary, so that the officials know where we are at all times!

I was relegated to the back of the vehicle, amongst the luggage (I know my place!)  and there I sat for many thousands of Km.  Sometimes it felt like being in a cage, with barred windows and very little view through the front window, but I was comfortable.

We soon discovered that the celebration of Ramadan is universal here, unlike in Tunisia, and Libya is a very traditional society.  Therefore nothing is open during the day for coffee or eats.  We are ok because we are self-catering, but because our guide is fasting, he does not always consider that we might need stops to eat and drink, and when we do, we feel guilty, and try to be very discreet about it.

Our first stop was to see the Roman ruins at Sabratha,  very interesting, although more excavation is needed but apparently there are no funds.  We set out from there towards Ghadames, a desert oasis town, where ‘caravans’ from Algeria, Tunisia and Libya used to come to trade.  We had intended to do this journey in two stages, stopping at Nalut en route.  But Salim decided we could get there in one day (about 700km).  We visited  Qasr al-Haj en route – a fortified ancient Berber granary (12^th century), built like a castle in the days when grain was the most valuable commodity, and needed to be defended.  We arrived in Ghadames at 1.30 a.m., having stopped to help some travelers who had broken down (Libyan cars seem to be tied together with string and gaffa tape!) and we towed them for twenty km. 

We spent our two nights in Ghadames in a guest house, as it was the easiest option, arriving so late.  It was very pleasant, but we would have preferred camping – Salim finds it difficult to understand this!  Ghadames is a lovely old town, initially inhabited by Berbers and their underground houses and streets (founded 800 years ago) are still intact and a delight to visit:  built this way to avoid the extreme heat of the Sahara sun. 

That evening we drove out into the desert, to watch the sunset from the sand-dunes.  We were able to see the Tunisian and Algerian borders from the highest sand dune.  We stopped at a Tuareg (desert nomad) settlement, to watch them bake flat bread in the sand and to sample their mint tea.

The following morning we set off back towards Tripoli, stopping to visit another Qasr.  We also visited another underground village at Gharyan.  Some of the houses (more than 300 years old) are really well preserved and were lived in until thirty years ago.  The owner invited us for bread and mint tea:  quite the custom here, it seems.

Salim took us to his home to ‘Break Fast’ with his family.  He has three lovely children and we really enjoyed our visit.  We had a traditional Libyan meal, sitting around a cloth on the floor.   I felt a little uncomfortable, because his wife had cooked and served the feast for us, but could not eat with us:  she cannot eat in front of a man who is not part of her family.  They made us feel very welcome:  Libyans are a hospitable and friendly people.

In Tripoli, we spent the night in a guest house next door to the presidential palace.  I discovered that I could use the wireless internet with our laptop, from the buildings next door – excellent connections.  But I half wondered whether President Gadaffi would have us arrested!

From there we went to the Roman City of Leptis Magna.  It is apparently one of the best preserved Roman remains in the world, and well worth visiting.  But it was extremely hot and tiring walking around, and I pitied the guide, who was unable to drink water until sun-down! 

After Leptis Magna, we set off on the long, rather uninteresting road, which runs parallel to the coast, towards Benghazi.  The scenery is flat, semi-dessert, with occasional oil refineries and small villages.  We finally camped on the outskirts of a village:  Salim obviously does not enjoy camping and cannot understand that we do!  We had expected him to join us for supper, but he was invited to a meal with people he met at the mosque.  The following day we continued on our journey and again found somewhere to camp just off the road.  A local householder brought us out some water and a dish of Libyan pasta.

We visited the Byzantine mosaics at Qasr Libya, and then arrived at Cyrene the next evening.  I was reluctant to camp where Salim suggested – too much litter.  This is a major problem in Libya - anywhere near towns and villages there is rubbish, because there does not seem to be any system of rubbish collection.  We eventually found a hostel, where we were able to camp in the grounds and to use the facilities.  Salim stayed in the hostel.

We visited the ancient Greek city of Cyrene, which was magnificent, and has ruins from Greek, Roman and Byzantine civilizations.  We had intended to also visit the Greek port of Apollonia, but by then we were saturated with culture, and just looked for somewhere to camp.  We stayed in the grounds of a hotel at Apollonia and we had an evening meal at the hotel.

The final lap of our journey to the Egyptian border went through Tobruk, where we were able to use the internet café – good connections for a change – and we visited one of the WWII cemeteries, and learned something of the battles in this area which were fought during the North African campaign.  We stayed the night about 80 km from the border in the grounds of the only European style service station we had come across, complete with Motel and cafeteria.  Salim of course took a comfortable room in the Motel.  We arrived early at the border, and Salim dealt with all the necessary paperwork and we were off into Egypt.

A Backwards Glance at Libya:

Unlike Tunisia, where we were totally independent and free to travel the country as we pleased, in Libya it had to be done to an agreed plan and with a guide.  Our Itinerary was submitted with our visa request in the UK. The plan was revised, on recommendation, to avoid a long drive across the central desert region of the country.  Inevitably, the Libya experience was one of dashing from one location to another and fitting in with a tight time schedule.  As a consequence, I felt we did not have the same sense of ‘discovering’ Libya as we had in Tunisia and as we are currently enjoying in Egypt.  However, what we were shown and the lovely people we met was a very enjoyable and memorable experience.   

•  Meeting our guide Salim and packing up my wife and securing her with the baggage in the back of the Beast. Being surprised at how my front seat passenger quickly assumed Carol’s role of boss, telling me where to go and when and how to drive. 

• Salim’s eternal cry: ‘Go-Go-Go! every time I pulled up behind anything on wheels.

• Ramadan, when every Libyan changes eating during the day, for eating all night and calls it ‘fasting’.  The total submission of every Libyan to the religious rigors of the Islamic teaching and rituals.  Seeing the power of the mosque over the way Libyans think and live their lives.

• The way Libyans keep cool in their cars while driving:  They wind down the windows and open all the doors wide (passengers and drivers), closing the doors momentarily while squeezing through congested traffic.  Learning that it’s possible to get Two Large Trucks, one Toyota Land Cruiser, one Bus and a Donkey pulled Cart (travelling in the opposite direction in the fast outside lane), all abreast at the same time on a three lane motorway.   

• The amazing amount of antiquity still lying half buried at Leptis Magna and Cyrene.  The way we were allowed to trample over beautiful floor mosaics thousands of years old, which at another site, were cut out of the floor and hung on walls inside a nearby building like paintings! 

• Discovering from Salim that if I was a Libyan, I could send Carol back to her family for pouring tea all over my head once (which, apparently, I deserved).  Also, that in Libya I’m allowed to pour tea all over her head as often as necessary until she’s learnt to be a good Libyan wife. Thinking I should relinquish my UK passport and settle in Tripoli.

• The man who wanted to hold my hand and have his picture taken with me.

• Two ‘old ladies’ rolling down a sand dune together at Ghadames.

• The way children waved and greeted us and never asked for money and the celebrity status it seems Libyans attach to tourists, judging by the enthusiasm of their greetings and gestures of welcome.   

All in all, it's a high five and big respect to the Libyan people - Thanks for a great nine days Salim.

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EGYPT

October  2006

The process of negotiating the Egyptian border crossing was an experience!  We were sent from police to customs and back to police to have our various documents scrutinised and stamped.  Finally, a helpful official took charge of us and our papers, and circumnavigated the queues of pushing and shouting Egyptians, by using the back doors, so that we could finally get the necessary stamps for our vehicle to enter the country – for a fee of course!  The whole process took almost four hours, and that was without having our vehicle searched!

We made our way along the coast towards Alexandria and Cairo.  The motorway was interesting:  it was a good road, but we found it was also used by tractors pulling trailers, and occasional donkey carts travelling down the ‘hard shoulder’ towards us!  On one occasion the traffic was halted for some children to herd their goats across the motorway.

We decided to break our journey at Marsa Matruh, a small coastal resort.  We searched for somewhere to camp, without success and finally decided to stay at a very pleasant hotel for a much needed rest after our whistle-stop tour of Libya.  We stayed for two nights, to give David chance to service ‘The Beast’, and me to catch up with the laundry.

From Matruh, we moved on to Cairo, where we decided to camp just outside the city in one of Egypt’s few official camp-sites.  Salma Motel is a site with very basic facilities, but the only campers were ourselves and some overlanders from Austria – Marc and Christine – who were in Cairo waiting for their Sudanese visas.

We spent our first day in Cairo visiting the Pyramids, which was really interesting.  The downside was the guide who attached himself to us – and whom we didn’t really require – and the constant hustling from men trying to persuade us to take a camel ride or a ride in a horse and cart to see the site.

We had intended to spend the next day visiting the Ethiopian Embassy to apply for our visa, but had forgotten that Friday and Saturday are the weekend in Egypt.  We therefore visited the Egyptian Museum (Tutankhamen, the Mummies and all the artefacts found in the Pyramids) and explored some of Cairo.  In particular we needed to search for a new electric beard trimmer for David, to replace the one that was ruined by a broken bottle of shampoo in Tunisia.  I was concerned that he was beginning to look like Santa! 

Our Ethiopian visas took just 24 hours to obtain and we were not sorry to leave the noise and clamour of Cairo behind – in particular the wail of the Muezzin at 4.15 a.m. each morning!  On our last evening, Marc and Christine (still awaiting their Sudan visas) invited us to supper, which was very agreeable.   Perhaps we will see them again in The Sudan?

Getting out of Cairo was a nightmare, even with our GPS, but we finally made it to the Sinai peninsula.  We were intending to reach Ras Mohammed by evening, but time ran out and we stayed the night in a small, rather insalubrious hotel.  We decided that we much prefer camping.

The Ras Mohammed National Park, guarded by police and military, is a large area at the tip of the Sinai Peninsula, comprising arid desert, sand dunes and rocky inlets and coves and some of the world’s best coral reefs.  We camped in the designated camping area, in between sand dunes with our own little private beach.  The only other campers were not at all visible.  We had forgotten to bring our snorkel, and there were no shops within about 30 Km.  But David was able to borrow one from the French group along the beach, and says it is the most amazing underwater scenery he has seen.  This was definitely the best campsite we have had so far.

From Ras Mohammed, we moved north and inland to Mount Sinai.  The journey was quite spectacular: desert, mountains, rock formations all different colours, greens, blues, greys, purples …I think it is some of most marvellous scenery we have seen.  We stayed at St Katherine’s Monastery (Greek Orthodox) overnight: not the cells we would have expected, but very comfortable and very cheap.

We climbed Mount Sinai, with one of David’s usual detours!  We followed the camel trail up – after arguing with all the camel owners that we preferred to walk.  It was very enjoyable, and we were fortunate to arrive at the top without the company of a coach-load of tourists.  It was good to imagine the spot where Moses received the Ten Commandments all those centuries ago.

We travelled up the coast of the Gulf of Aqaba, stopping at a camping village in Nuweiba and then moving on to another beach site, where we parked ‘The Beast’ so that we could see the sunrise in the morning over the gulf from our bed – we both wake early, as we go to bed so early!  This site is run by Bedouin, and the owner is a conservationist, thus the site is amazingly clean.  There is a large communal kitchen where people can help themselves to anything they want, including freshly baked bread, and just write down what is taken, to be paid for at end of the stay.  It is a very popular site, and we would have stayed longer, but knew that we still had a distance to travel before our visa expired.  We met some very friendly and helpful people, and had some good advice on the best and safest routes to take travelling towards the Sudan border.

Returning to Cairo was easy until we reached the city, where of course we got lost once again.  The madness of Cairo drivers will remain indelibly in our memories!  We stayed again at the Giza campsite, and then set off to cross the Western Dessert, a journey of five days.  The roads were excellent, with hardly any traffic. 

The first part of the journey was very bleak and stark – just miles of sand as far as the eye could see.  Then we crossed the Black Desert, covered with a sprinkling of black sand and with occasional pyramid shaped black rocks, followed by the spectacular White Desert.  Here the landscape is surreal, with weird and wonderful white rocks in all shapes and sizes:  a real moonscape.  We hadn’t realised that desert scenery could be so varied.

We stayed in good places, the most memorable being a Bedouin village camp.  The Bedouin are such a lovely, gentle people, so very hospitable that we felt treated like honoured guests.  We decided to take a camel trek into the desert (we were assured that the only way to ‘hear’ the silence of the desert is from the back of a camel).  It was a lovely experience (although I suffered from a sore rear end for several days afterwards!) 

November  2006

After our desert experience, we arrived in Luxor, which has to be the hassle capital of the world!  On our first day, we set off to see the Luxor Temple but were stopped every few metres by someone wanting to show us something (for Baksheesh of course) or offering a ride on the Felucca (sailing boat on the Nile) or a ride on a caleche (horse and cart) or a taxi …It was so exhausting, that we just found a second hand bookshop (I am running out of books) and then went back to the security of the campsite!

At Luxor, we met Luke (spelled Loek), an eccentric Dutchman, who was travelling in our direction , taking photographs of historical sites:  he has crossed the  Sudan a number of times, and so he knew the ropes.  We went from Luxor to Aswan, with the obligatory police escort.  The convoy moved very quickly, and we Land Cruisers were soon left trailing behind!  'Adam's Home' is a pleasant campsite just outside the city, where we prepared ourselves and our vehicle to (reluctantly) say goodbye to Egypt and set off on the ferry down Lake Nasser to the Sudan.

A Backwards Glance at Egypt:

• The relief on our guide Salim's face as we passed across the border from Tunisia into Egypt.  The relief on Carol’s face when an Egyptian took charge of the formalities necessary to get us through customs.
• Dinner with Marc and Christine at Cairo’s best and worst and only camp site – carrot soup was  mmmmmmm.
•  The inexhaustible  hustling that sucked away any possible chance to appreciate the significance of the Pyramids at Giza.
• Arriving at Ras Mohammed National Park; camping by our own private beach.  Snorkelling, and being amazed by the coral and sheer number and diversity of aquatic creatures (saw two Rays within ten metres of the beach – fantastic).
• The steps down from Mount Sinai to the monastery.  That anxious hour looking for our blue grey rucksack (with all our valuables and documents) amongst the blue grey rocks.
• The lazy drive through Sinai Desert back to Cairo via Basata Beach camp site.
• Getting trapped driving back through the side streets of down town Cairo at night and falling prey to local youngsters schooled in the art of tormenting stranded tourists – a scary moment.
• Relaxing with the noble Bedouins in the Western Desert and enjoying the simple pleasures of nomadic life amongst songs and laughter around an evening campfire.
• At Luxor being adopted by Loek (Luke) the very mad but charming Dutchman who would be our guide through the bureaucratic minefield that ‘lies’ between Egypt and Sudan.  
• Learning that truth and lie, fact and fiction are indistinguishable when negotiating Ferry Fees at the offices of the Nile Ferry Company at Aswan.

Professional Beggar, Bedouin Grace, Crooked Smile, Space and Guile, Princely Nubian, Pointless Point, Nightmare City, Desert Stream, Love, Hate and Everything Between – Egypt;  it’s there so you take it, or you can’t.

 

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SUDAN

November  2006

Travelling from Egypt into The Sudan was an adventure in itself!  For a start, just before we left Egypt we discovered that all three locks on our doors had failed.  We decided that either someone had tampered with them, or the sand had blocked them all during our travel through the desert.  Fortunately we could get in, but could only lock the doors from inside.  This meant that for the next stage of our trip we had to either stay with the vehicle or one of our fellow overlanders had to park hard up against us, so that no-one could get in to the unlocked door.

When we turned up to book our ferry, we were told that as there were only three land cruisers (Loek from Holland, Werner and Claudia from Switzerland and ourselves) and three Motor Cycles (Nina and Clive from the UK and Ian from South Africa) they would have to take out the small barge especially, as there would be no extra cargo. This would entail a double fee as the small barge is for five vehicles.  We didn’t want to wait an extra week in Aswan, and so we all agreed, without handing any money over.  Two Swedish vehicles turned up at our campsite on the Sunday, having been promised places on the same barge.  On our arrival at the port on the Monday morning, we found that it was a case of first come, first served:  we three vehicles arrived early at the port and had the places, at the original quoted price, and the Swedes were turned away to wait another week.  The barge, needless to say, was piled high with cargo!

The crossing was 20 hours, and the ferry had to be seen to be believed:  crammed full of bodies, taking up every inch of space.  We had a ‘first class’ cabin – which we shared with Loek, David and I on the top bunk!  The toilets were a nightmare – I tried to avoid drinking, in order not to have to use them!  The barge with the vehicles arrived more than 24 hours later, so we were two nights in the ‘Nile Hotel’ in Wadi Halfa – we had arrived in the real Africa. 

The hotel is a random assortment of mud huts in a courtyard, with long-drop toilets and the shower is a galvanised bucket of water!  I shared a room with Claudia and Nina and a Japanese backpacker, travelling though Africa on her own by train!  The local restaurant was interesting:  we played safe, and decided to eat omelettes and potato.  There is no cutlery and the potato in a sort of gravy is in a communal dish, which you dip into with your bread and scoop it up.  I was a bit tired of omelettes by the time we left! 

We Land Cruisers travelled in convoy, following Loek who knew the route well, having made the trip twice before.  We spent the next four days on the worst ‘roads’ I think we will ever have to travel on!  The first day was corrugated and then a mix of gravel tracks and sand.  The motor cyclists fared worse than we did – we only got stuck once, and Werner, who was used to desert driving, talked David through the procedure to get ‘unstuck’ - needless to say, I left the desert driving to him!  We found some lovely places to camp, which I much preferred to the official campsites we had encountered on our trip.

I had a preconceived idea of what a desert is – miles of golden sand, with palm filled oases and sand dunes.  But it is so much more than that, different experiences all the time.  In the Sudan, it is vast empty nothingness, bleak and barren, but beautiful at the same time.  More dust than sand: we have been absolutely filthy, and the sand permeates every orifice of the body! 

We travelled along the Nile, so there are occasional villages, where everyone flocks to the roadside to wave at us!  I was fearful about crossing the Sudan, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.  Sudanese are lovely friendly people, who rarely see tourists, so we were treated as celebrities, and everyone wanted to invite us back to their home – we even got pressed by one young man to come to his wedding!

We crossed the Nile at Dongola, on a barge – another interesting experience:  I don’t know how they managed to fit the three land cruisers side-by-side, but in the process one of the rear mud flaps was sheared off our vehicle!  We arrived on the far bank rather nonplussed and covered in mud!

Ironically, when we arrived in Khartoum, it was to discover a large, modern city – so different from the poverty of rural life.    We found a shopping Mall which could have existed anywhere in Europe!  In Khartoum, we met up again with Christine and Marc, who had had trouble with their vehicle en route, and were having repairs made to its suspension.

We managed to get our locks fixed in Khartoum, which took a whole day, and I caught up with the washing and getting rid of the sand, whilst David serviced The Beast and repaired the mud flap.  We were able to have the hot showers, which we had all been dreaming about for the previous few days.

After Khartoum, the dynamics of the group changed:  Nina and Clive pressed on before us to the border and Ian travelled with the three land cruisers.  The scenery changed and we moved away from desert to intermittent farmland and hills.  The roads improved – there were actually some stretches of tarmac!  We understand that the Japanese are funding the building of roads in Sudan – could it be something to do with the fact that all the vehicles we saw on the roads were Japanese?   We finally arrived at the Sudan/Ethiopian border, for the expected red tape to leave the country.  We were actually disappointed to leave The Sudan, as the trip has been a very pleasurable experience.

  A Backwards Glance at Sudan:

• Wadi Halfa – was it love at first sight?  Learnt how not to bucket shower.  Watching local Sudanese manually unload heavy cargo from the Ferry using rhythmic chants to co-ordinate their effort.  (A technique I’m sure Carol could adopt taking the Laundry Basket up and down the stairs at home).      
• Derek’s Café where somebody had pinched all of the cutlery and where meals were priced by the plateful.
•  Driving the corrugated and sandy tracks which were the Nile Route to Khartoum, and trying to keep up with Loek all the way.  Discovering that windscreen wipers don’t help when blinded by dust.
• The children greeting us at every village we passed through.  Glimpsing life in another world of mud homes and the hard but apparently happy existence that living along the Nile dictates.  The small stones laid out in the sand at the edge of each village – graves.
• Children taking us by the hand and showing us around cataract three and the ancient stone markings. 
• The total merging of animals and people in the narrow dusty streets.   
• The incongruity of Khartoum, a small island of modernity in a vast sea of ancient traditions and customs.  A chat through car windows at traffic lights, exchanging telephone numbers, and an invitation to his wedding that evening - a typical encounter in Sudan.
• Sudden emergence from desert landscapes approaching the Ethiopian border and the feeling that we‘d hurried when we should have tarried.

We met, smiled at each other, shook hands and said goodbye.  I felt you pull at my sleeve when I left, but I never stopped.  My friend, I’m sorry and will always regret not getting to know you better. 

 

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ETHIOPIA

November  2006

First impressions of Ethiopia, coming from The Sudan, are of a green, vibrant, fertile country:  it is hard to imagine that this is a place which was ravaged by famine a few short years ago.  Straight away, as the roads wound up into the hills, we were aware that we had arrived in a very different country. 

Our first stop was Bahar Dar, at the southern end of Lake Tana: the source of the Blue Nile.  It was here that I sampled my first traditional Ethiopian meal – and regretted it:  I suffered a bout of ‘galloping gut-rot’, which fortunately only lasted 24 hours.  However, it meant that we missed out on the boat-trip on Lake Tana to visit some of the many island monasteries; we also missed out on visiting the Blue Nile Falls. 

In Bahar Dar, we were privileged to meet Habtamu, a young man who wanted to practice his English and invited us home to his mother’s house for coffee:  we had our first experience of the Ethiopian coffee ceremony.  It is a really relaxed occasion, sitting talking and watching the fresh coffee beans washed, and then roasted on the open fire, before being ground by hand and then brewed and served in tiny cups – delicious! 

We left Loek behind at Bahar Dar:  he was travelling south, whilst Ian, Claudia, Werner and ourselves were travelling north.  Our next stop was Gonder, which was once the capital of Ethiopia – an attractive little town, with castles and churches.  We found that being ‘adopted’ by teenage lads – in this case a lovely deaf lad, Teddy, with whom we were able to communicate effectively with sign language – is the best way to see a place, and shields us from the constant hassle of other people wanting to be our guides, or just demanding money.   

Continuing north to Debark, we booked our obligatory guide, armed scout and mules for a three day trek in the Simien Mountains.  We had already decided the Ethiopian Highlands was one of the loveliest areas we had ever seen, but the Simien Mountains were breathtaking – I run out of superlatives!  It was a more difficult walk than I had anticipated, as walking at altitude is not easy: we reached almost 4,000 metres.  But it was worth every step – the views were phenomenal.  Camping at that height was very cold  -2⁰  and we woke to find ice on our tent.  The second night it rained, and although less cold, we found that our hired tent was not waterproof!  But we look back on each experience as just part of the adventure!

Our group was invited to the home of a friend of Fanta (our scout) for a coffee, and we found it humbling to receive hospitality in a tiny mud hut in a remote village and to be treated as honoured guests as they performed the timeless coffee ceremony.  Of course we all left gifts, which were much appreciated.

The most difficult part of travelling in Ethiopia is the level of poverty – especially in the rural areas.  It is a dependency culture, and they see ‘Faranji’ (white people) as a source of money.  We were constantly being bombarded with ‘you, you, you’ as they (especially the children) demanded money, pens, food or clothes.  At first I had difficulty restraining David from giving away the clothes on his back, but eventually he came to terms with the situation.  I preferred to pay lads to clean the vehicle – never has a car of ours been cleaned as often – or to be our guides.

Continuing north to Aksum, we crossed the Simien mountains, winding up into the mountains on one of the most difficult roads so far – gravel, stony and potholed, with hairpin bends and 500 metre drops at the edge of the road!  We took more than eight hours to drive less than 200 kilometres!  But the views more than compensated for the difficult roads!

Aksum is another small town steeped in history, the first capital of the country when the legendary Queen of Sheba ruled the mighty empire, and where Ethiopians believe the ‘Ark of the Covenant’ is housed!   The place is littered with ruins of castles, ancient tombs and mighty Stelae, amidst the donkeys, colourful markets and people going about their normal daily lives.

At Aksum we parted with the others, who had a tighter schedule than we did, and we set of south east.  Unfortunately the bumpy Ethiopian roads took their toll, and we found that two of our roof-rack gutter supports sheered through and we had to stop for two days in Mekele for some emergency repairs.  We were helped by another young man, Hadgu, who helped us to find a garage and later showed us around the town whilst the car was being fixed.  We gave him a lift south, to Woldia, as he wanted to travel down to Addis.

Our next stop was Lalibela, a small mountain town known as ‘Africa’s Petra’.  It is famous for its rock hewn mediaeval churches, all carved into volcanic rock, some connected by underground tunnels, and all still in use today.  Lalibela is not easy to reach, and is a place of pilgrimage up in the mountains.  But by the time we had visited all eleven churches with our obligatory guide, we were suffering from cultural overload!  In Lalibela, we met John, who was cycling round Ethiopia for a month – we enjoyed his company  and shared a guide for the visit to the churches, and later had a meal together.

December 2006

We continued south towards Addis Ababa with one overnight stop.  It was great to reach a tarmac road at last although the condition of the road was not perfect.  In fact, by the time we reached Addis, we found that our roof-rack repairs had failed again!  We booked into a hotel in Addis, where we met up with Loek again – and were pleased to meet Mulata, his Ethiopian lady friend.  Mulata helped us to find a mechanic who could repair our roof-rack and David spent two days at a garage, making sure that the  repairs were to his satisfaction this time, whilst I was brave enough to explore some of the local area – discovered some more second hand bookshops to replenish my supplies – and catch up with emails.

We also met up again with Marc and Christine, and we agreed that we would travel south to Kenya together, as we had heard from overlanders travelling in the opposite direction that the excessive rains in northern Kenya had made the roads very difficult.

We celebrated my birthday in Addis, where we went out for a lovely meal with our friends.  Incidentally, it is only 1999 in Ethiopia, so I am seven years younger – until I look in the mirror and see those increasing grey hairs, so I can’t kid myself!  The Ethiopian clock is different too:  It is a 12 hour day here, starting at dawn and ending at dusk. 

We left Addis and headed south, arranging to meet up with Marc and Christine at the Lake Abiata-Shala National Park, where we camped for the night.  We saw an amazing number of flamingos and we had ostriches round the tent the next morning, watching me prepare breakfast!  We went from there to Bale Mountains and saw Nyala (a type of antelope) and Wart Hogs around our campsite the first night, and then went up to the plateau – 4000 metres and VERY cold) to see the Ethiopian Wolf – very rare endangered species. 

Marc and Christine decided to stay another night in Bale (they are both biologists, and wanted to see frogs!) and we arranged to meet them two days later in the hot springs.  We came down to Awassa and enjoyed a day lazing at the Hot Springs resort – temperatures in the pool were 45 ⁰. We were surrounded there by Colobus monkeys, who are very noisy.  However, Marc contacted us to let us know that their gear box had packed up and they had arranged a replacement to be shipped in from Austria, which meant a 7 day delay for them.  They persuaded us that there was nothing we could do to help and that they had made arrangements for collecting the new gear box from Addis.

We therefore decided to cross into Kenya without them.  We decided on the Moyale route, rather than the Lake Turkana route which we had planned, as there is very little traffic on the latter, and we met some Belgian overlanders who had been 14 days on that route, because the floods in northern Kenya had washed roads away! 

Ethiopia is a beautiful country, and we have really enjoyed our four week visit.  However, our time was marred by the amount of begging: it was impossible to stop the car in a quiet spot to have a drink, take a photo or whatever, without children appearing from nowhere to ask for money.  Similarly, any attempt to take a walk in the town or countryside meant being accompanied by young men wanting to be our guides whether we wanted it or not.  Goodbye Ethiopia, hello Kenya!

A Backwards Glance at Ethiopia:

• Meeting Habtamu who showed us the best of simple Ethiopian hospitality.  This young man’s love for his family, knowledge of his country’s history, hopes for its future, and the deep impression he made on me. 
• Being told that my attempts at Ethiopian dancing made David Brent’s (of ‘The Office’ fame) look like poetry in motion.
• The Simien trek, the eagle swooping low over our camp each morning, my first taste of super dense spoon clenching concentrated soup.  Cool winds, mountain peaks, valley streams, walking, talking – heaven.
• Aksum, where their stelae aren’t nearly as tall as their story claiming possession of ‘The Arc of the Covenant’.  Being allowed to see the building housing it (for a fee of course) but not the artefact itself.  How very African!   In the immortal words of Victor Meldrew ‘I don’t believe it’.
• Lalibela where my natural curiosity led me to ask why those ancient Ethiopians chose to build their churches in such a strange and difficult way – and wished I hadn’t.
• Experiencing the inexorable destruction of ‘The Beast’ by  Ethiopian ‘roads’.  (Broken windscreen, back door and roof rack supports).
• Sharing Carol's Surprise Birthday Breakfast – courtesy of our good friend Loek whom we met up with again in Addis. 
• So much space and so little place to hide.  People, everywhere.

I will try to forget the window tappers, the upturned palms, and all those soulless eyes that could only see my pockets.  Instead I will remember the natural beauty of Ethiopia and the good friends we met there.

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KENYA

           December 2006

Our first few days in Kenya were quite eventful!  We crossed the Ethiopia/Kenya border happily, stayed a night in a Kenya Wildlife campsite, which was pleasant, and then joined the armed convoy to travel from Moyale to Marsabit, a stretch of unmade road which is very bleak and barren, with apparent threats of bandits!  This road is deeply rutted, made worse by the recent heavy rains, with plenty of loose boulders in the road.  Fifty km from Marsabit we hit a really large stone which sheered off the U-bolt on a rear suspension spring, which holds the axle together.  David attempted a temporary repair, and we limped on for another ten km before becoming totally immobilised, having lost the convoy. 

Our mobile phone wasn’t working, and we tried unsuccessfully to obtain help, using our satellite phone.  I must admit to feeling anxious, for the first time on our trip.  The problems were compounded by the fact that David had spent much of the afternoon trying to fix the car in very hot sun, and then suffered from heatstroke/dehydration and spent all evening throwing up!

However, we were very fortunate, in that a passing truck driver saw our predicament, and having delivered his cargo in Marsabit, he returned in the middle of the night with three armed police-men to guard us overnight, promising to bring a mechanic and the necessary spare parts the next morning.  About 24 hours after we had broken down, we eventually reached Marsabit.  It had taken two mechanics and three policemen to fix ‘The Beast’ and of course they all needed payment! 

In Marsabit we met Stef and Renee, two South Africans returning home, in a Land rover. We followed them on the road to Isiola – another similar road – as they had trouble with their suspension, and we were their insurance!  With Stef and Renee we enjoyed our first Kenyan Choma (BBQ, in this case goat) served with Ugali (a paste made with maize, which neither of us could manage!) and pureed vegetable.

From Isiola, we went to Meru, south of Mount Kenya, where we had arranged a visit to the FHI project supported by our local Church.  We had informed the staff that we wanted an ‘informal and low-key’ visit.  But apparently these terms do not figure in the African vocabulary!  By this time, David was feeling really ill, and should have stayed in bed in our hotel room – he had spent all night in the bathroom!  However, I was reluctant to drive myself and the three Kenyan staff out to the village of Nkunga without David, as I am not too keen on off-road driving, so he was persuaded to come and be chauffeur.  We arrived in the village, to find that most of the villagers had gathered to greet us, with a real song and dance African welcome!  This was followed by official introductions and speeches, to which we had to respond (not something my shy, retiring husband would have enjoyed if he was in the best of health)!  David then made his excuses and went to sit in the car, whilst I enjoyed a tour of the village, to see the various projects which have been funded by our church.  It was lovely to be welcomed into homes, and to meet such warm and friendly people.

Once David had recovered sufficiently, we continued on our journey to Nairobi.  We stayed at ‘Jungle Junction’, a great place for overlanders:  we met cyclists, motor-bikers and of course other Land cruiser and Land rover owners, all travelling either north to south, like us, or south to north across Africa.  It was great to exchange information and learn of good places to visit further on our route.  By this time, we had very heavy rain, and it was good to be at a place where there was a dry lounge/dining room where we could all congregate.  As we talked to other travellers, we realised that we have been very fortunate with our vehicle:  we heard stories of people breaking down, having to rebuild their vehicle, suffering accidents and even of being held up at gun point!

In Nairobi, we met up with some friends from the UK, Paul and Ruth and their lovely family.  They work for TEAR fund, in Southern Sudan.  We went with them to the Christmas services at their church, and really enjoyed experiencing African worship.  Our Christmas meal was very different – a BBQ at ‘Jungle Junction’ – and I missed the kids, but it was lovely to talk to them on the phone, when they were all together on Christmas evening.

From Nairobi, we headed for the coast, stopping at Voi for two nights, a lodge at the gate of the Tsavo National Park.  We were able to dry our mattress, which was saturated after the heavy rain!  On New Year’s Eve, we reached Tiwi, south of Mombassa, and the weather began to improve.  We had been told that the short rains usually end in the beginning of December, but the rain continued until the beginning of January. 

January 2007

We had hoped to visit Amboseli National Park, but were told that the parks were too muddy – in fact some of the National Parks were closed at this time, because of the unseasonal weather.  However, we enjoyed a few days of relaxation by the beach – in the company of Vervet monkeys, who were very amusing until they found their way into vehicles and tents to steal food!

We returned to Nairobi, and of course ‘Jungle Junction’, to catch up with emails and stock up with food before continuing our trip.  It was good to meet up again with old friends and make new friends.

We continued west, to the Great Rift Valley, and enjoyed a few days camping at Nakuru (where poor David was again unwell).  We at last managed to visit a national park,  Lake Nakuru, which was fantastic:  we saw Rhinos, giraffe, zebra, Thomson’s gazelles, flamingos, buffalo, baboons, monkeys etc but no elephants or big cats, all very close as we drove round the park.  In Nakaru, we met up once again with Marc and Christine: once again their vehicle was in a Land rover repair shop!

We moved north to a campsite at Lake Baringo, another lovely site with an amazing number of birds and insects.  At night there were hippos grazing on the camp site: they are incredibly noisy and we heard them very close to our vehicle.  Unfortunately we were unable to see them, as our large flashlight torch had broken!  I spent ages – in the middle of the night - sitting on the roof, trying to spot the hippos with a little pen torch!  All I got for my pains was lots of mossie bites!

We went for a walk to the local village to buy bread, and were given a conducted tour of the area by two young lads – Nokia and James – we were taken to visit some traditional houses, saw basket weaving, maize being ground, and home-made beer being brewed from maize - we declined to taste it, as we had heard that it is pretty potent!

Moving towards the Uganda border, our last stop was Eldoret, where we stayed at another lovely site.  The crossing into Uganda was relatively painless as we started the next phase of our Odyssey.

A Backwards Glance at Kenya:

(The fact that this was written by a damp, smelly, miserable misanthrope, who from first ‘til last day in Kenya had almost no control over bladder, bowels or sleep, did not affect his perception or feelings in the slightest).

• Being 'robbed' twice in two days on the Moyale to Marsabit road.  The second gang of bandits did repair the Beast before relieving us of our cash, which was a kind and considerate touch – Thanks for the rescue Charles.
• Meru, which religion has infected like a rash, and nearly every shop, factory and bus is emblazoned with illogical bible texts and links like ‘Born Again Car Repair Services’,  ‘A Miracle Happened Here Café’.  Feeling the need for normality – whatever that was.
• Having my Nightmare of all Nightmares at Nkunga village.
• The aversion that Kenyans have to smooth roads.  Just in case one hasn’t got enough holes in, they introduce speed bumps every couple of hundred metres.  In places, groups of four a metre apart; they are hardly ever marked or signed, presumably to make night driving more interesting.  Traffic lights are purely for decorative purposes and have nothing whatsoever to do with traffic control.  
• My reintroduction to the real world at Jungle Junction, Nairobi.  Enjoying the friendship of like minded fellow travellers.  Being escorted to a Very Merry Christmas Nativity by Joseph and the Angel Gabriel.  Telephone calls and pictures of Christmas Day celebrations from home – how could they have so much fun without us?    
• Tiwi Beach, swimming in the rain, the Mango Man, crabs on the beach, monkeys in the trees, fish in the rock pools, all this and  sunshine at last.  Why did we have to leave so soon?
• Driving through Lake Nakuru National Park, and realising what a total lack of personality a Rhino has – perhaps I should have got out of the car and given him a kick!  Constantly being distracted and amazed by the colourful and fascinating bird life surrounding us.
• Having the smells and sounds of Lake Baringo outside our tent each night courtesy of the local Hippos who leave the lake to graze around us after dark.  The fireflies under diamond night skies each evening.  The friendly greeting from the ’community boys’, chatting about life by the lake, showing us around their village, meeting their friends – feeling honoured.
• Crossing the border to Uganda, being pestered by freeloaders, and feeling like a wounded animal with a gaping wound in my wallet,  but we fended off their attacks and made it across unscathed.

 The best thing about Kenya was probably the animals.  The worst thing about Kenya was undoubtedly its failed attempts at modernisation.   Sadly the animals have become curios and I was almost tricked into seeing African Kenya in the same way.  Will African Kenya survive the imported crumbling prosperity? – I hope so.

 

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UGANDA

January 2007

Crossing into Uganda, we were surprised to discover such a lovely, green and pleasant land.  We drove north first, to visit the Sipi Falls, in the foothills of Mount Elgon and stayed for two nights in a terraced campsite with spectacular views.  Moses, our guide, led us on an enjoyable five hour trek to the three falls. 

From there, we travelled down to Jinja, near the source of the Nile, where we camped at Bujagali Falls:  rapids, rather than falls, where the adventurous tackle the white water rafting.  David was keen to have a go, but unfortunately he would not do it without me, and thrills and spills are not my scene!

On to Kampala, we camped at the Backpackers Hostel.    We spent a few days catching up with car maintenance, laundry and internet.   We had another ‘new’ experience, when we decided to travel the three km into town by ‘boda-boda’ – the back of motor-bikes.  Surprisingly, it was David who was nervous, whilst I enjoyed the ride!  We also had our first experience of Tear Gas, when we happened on the end of an anti-government demonstration:  not very pleasant.  Once again we bumped into Marc and Christine, who were en-route to Rwanda for gorilla trekking – that yellow land rover is becoming a regular feature in our travels!

We drove north west, to visit the Murchison Falls National Park.  Our campsite was near the banks of the Victoria Nile, and we took a boat trip up to the Falls.  It was an amazing ride, because we were able to see an abundance of wild-life along the shore en-route:  hippos, crocodiles, elephants, water buffalo, and numerous species of birds.  The following day, we took ‘the Beast’ on a ferry across the Nile for a drive through the National Park , but didn’t see as many animals as those who took a guide, but we still enjoyed the experience.

We had a gruelling journey south, to Fort Portal, as many of the roads were in poor shape and it was a long way.  However, our overnight campsite at Lake Nkuruba (one of the crater lakes) was very pleasant.

Our next stop was Queen Elizabeth National Park, situated between Lake George and Lake Edward with the Rwenzori mountains to the north.  The campsite is situated on a peninsular overlooking Lake Edward – we again experienced hippos on the campsite, also wart hogs and a lone elephant.  We were told that there are sometimes lions!   We took a boat ride along the Kazinga Channel which connects the two lakes, and once more saw a great many species of animals and birds.  Our game drive in our own vehicle was a little disappointing – we were hoping to see lions and elephants.   We saw numerous antelopes, buffalo and wart hogs.  We did however witness a pair of spotted hyenas chasing a group of Ugandan Cobs, and had a fleeting glimpse of a lion crossing the road ahead of us.

(Whilst at the QE campsite, I inadvertently turned David into a skin-head!  He had decided that it was time for me to cut his hair again, and I planned to use his electric beard trimmer, set at 40 mm.  Unfortunately I used it the wrong way round, straight down the centre of his head – so it all had to come off.  I think he will be wearing his hat for the foreseeable future!)

February 2007

Our final destination in Uganda was Lake Bunyoni, not far from the Rwandan border.  It rained rather heavily whilst we were there, but we had a relaxed time, including a walk to see some of the many species of birds and a visit to the local market.

We thoroughly enjoyed our visit to Uganda, having been welcomed by warm, friendly people, enjoyed the impressive scenery and seen wildlife in beautiful, natural surroundings.

A Backwards Glance at Uganda:

• A sense of having moved from Dark to truly Black Africa.  The eerie quiet that displaced the continual creaking from the car springs and the vertical leaps out of our seats.  Learning afresh the art of in car conversation.
• The smile from the old Gate Man at Sipi Falls camp site, sharing tea and sweets and deciding there and then that sweets were not meant for kids after all.  Sitting on the restaurant balcony and being mesmerised by the distant falling water – like flames in a camp fire.
• At Jinja, and thinking that rushing mad water is for the young heart and that still quiet water more suits this old man’s restless spirit.
• Storks flying like light aircraft down the main streets of Kampala. The same big birds standing motionless beside the pavements, on tops of trees and buildings watching us with their disinterested expressions.
• Feeling more comfortable about looking at animals as we passed along the river by boat to Murchison Falls which gave a curious respectability to the activity.
• The sudden and unexpected widening of my hair parting at Queen Elizabeth National Park camp site and the total lack of repentance shown in the permanent grin on Carol’s face.  Learning how clever thousands of Elephants are at hiding in the Park’s short grass.  Meeting Marc and Christine (and their friends from Austria) again and Marc’s boast that ‘only’ the front leaf spring had broken on his Yellow Land Rover since we’d last met – over a week ago!  Fighting the almost irresistible urge to want to pin a big medal on his chest.
• Lake Bunyoni probably the best camp site in Africa so far.  Beautiful green Lakeside site, hot showers and very nice restaurant plus Internet!  Beware of the ‘Birdman’ who for a modest fortune will walk you by the lake and point into bushes or tops of tall trees and recite various bird names.   Where Carol bought a piece of chequered cloth at the local market to make a ‘Tablecloth’ with.  Me thinking it was probably a moment of mental dysfunction and  thought she was back in Southampton.  Quite expecting the cloth to be made into several good sized handkerchiefs and possibly a rag for cleaning the diesel from around the filler cap.
• Learning at last how to deal with the tide of humanity offering help at border crossings.  I just point to Carol (who is always walking about three yards in front of me with wads of files and papers under her arm), shrug my shoulders and say ‘that women over there, says she’s going to sort it all out for me’.  It works; they melt away like summer snow.

Uganda was a great experience.  I got the feeling that they didn’t mind us visiting them, but were going to get along with life in their own Ugandan way with little adjustment to suit strange white folk like us.

 

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RWANDA

February 2007

Crossing from Uganda into Rwanda, has to have been the most hassle-free border crossing so far.  As holders of UK passports, we did not require a Rwandan visa, our papers were stamped and we were waved straight through, and for once, no-one wanted to separate us from our money!

Rwanda is a lovely country, a rich patchwork of cultivated fields covering hills in all directions (‘le pays de mille collines’ – the land of a thousand hills).  We were impressed with the roads, and we made our way directly to the capital: Kigali is a small, attractive modern city where it is hard to picture the devastation of the genocide just 12 years ago. 

We stayed at a guesthouse, owned by Solace Ministries, a Rwandan charity working with widows and orphans from the genocide.  We received a very warm welcome from Jean (John) Gakwandi, the director of the charity, who is a contact of friends from home.  We really appreciated the comfort of the guesthouse, especially as it rained almost every day of our stay in Rwanda.  I suppose we shouldn’t have been surprised at the weather, as this is a country at the edge of the Equatorial Rainforest!

On the Sunday, Jean took us to an English speaking church, where we really enjoyed the African worship.  He then spent some time with us, answering our questions about the charity and sharing his own experiences as a survivor of genocide.  In the afternoon, we went with our new friend, Denise, who manages the guest house, to the Kigali Memorial Museum, which houses an excellent audio-visual presentation of the history of the Rwandan genocide of 1994.  We were glad we went, but found it an emotional experience.

Whilst in Kigali, we checked with the British Embassy on the safety of the crossing into Tanzania, having heard of tourists being targeted by rebels, and were reassured that the route is now secure.  We also bought our tickets for a visit to the Mountain Gorillas in the ‘Parc National de Volcans’.

We drove north to Ruhengeri, camping at a very pleasant site owned by the Episcopal Church.  We found that our mattress and bedding were very wet, after all the rain, and had a chance to dry things out.  Our trek into the National Park to see the gorillas was a very memorable experience.  This mountainous area of towering volcanoes is quite spectacular, on the borders of Rwanda, Uganda and the DRC.  In a group of eight tourists plus guides and armed guards, we drove to the edge of the rainforest and made our way to the site where ‘Group 13’ had been sighted.  This involved trekking for an hour through dense rainforest – very wet and muddy – with one of the guards hacking a way forward through the jungle with his machete!  The gorillas – a group of 13 – were quite amazing.  We were able to get quite close to them for about an hour – and the rain held off for our whole visit!  The gorillas were obviously used to visitors, and seemed unperturbed by our presence – at times we wondered who was watching whom!  Observing the large Silverback, while sitting for a while with some of the females and their offspring, it was not dissimilar to observing a family of humans!

On our way back down to our vehicles, it RAINED!   I have never experienced such heavy rain, and we were all absolutely soaked – the path through the lower fields had become a fast-flowing stream of mud and we looked as though we were wearing mud-coloured Wellington boots rather than hiking shoes!  It took us days to get those shoes clean and dry – we had to tie them to the roof, as they were so smelly!

From Ruhengeri, we visited Lake Kivu, staying at a rather run-down town called Gisenyi.  We enjoyed a walk to the Lake from our Auberge, and for once the sun was shining.  We had intended to continue driving around the lake to Kibuye, but the rain was back the next morning, and so we decided to return to Kigali, again in torrential rain. 

Back in Kigali, we arrived in time to apply for our Tanzanian visas and went out with Denise for a most enjoyable meal that evening.  The next day, we obtained the visas and decided to head for Tanzania – hopefully to leave the rain behind, but also to meet our daughter who would be visiting us a week later.

Leaving Kigali took longer than expected:  we discovered a disturbing squeak under our vehicle, and visited yet another car mechanic, who spent five hours replacing all the bushes, only to discover that the squeak was still there.  It was finally decided that our problem was rubbing of the leaf-springs after all the rain, and not something to be worried about. 

We finally left Rwanda after a stay of only a week, camping on the Rwanda/Tanzania border for an early crossing the next day.  We would have liked to stay longer, because it was an enjoyable visit and there was more we would have liked to see had there been time.  But we take away some good memories of places, animals and some lovely people.

A Backwards Glance at Rwanda:

• The cool drive to Kigali around patchwork hills reminiscent of home.  The long lines of people carrying water from the river in twenty litre yellow plastic containers up to their homes.  Women carrying these on their heads, boys pushing bikes up steep slopes with five attached (containers not women)!
• Arriving at and being escorted to ‘Solace Ministries’ guest house.  Sitting in a hot bath and thinking Carol should get in too to conserve energy – seeing the colour of the water and realising there wasn't a chance.
• Kigali memorial museum with Denise, the photo of her uncle amongst the hundreds of others placed there in remembrance by surviving relatives and friends.  So many small sculls pierced and broken, pictures of the children, their favourite food, their last words………............
• Discussing the work of ‘Solace Ministries’ with Jean and listening to his story of survival.  Feeling moved by his faith in God, his compassion for victims, his honesty, humility and courage. 
• Walking around Kigali and wondering how much it must have changed since 1994.  Remembering Denise’s words that it will take at least two generations to recover from the haunting memories of genocide.
• Fighting our way through bamboo jungle for an appointment with a family of mountain gorillas who were clearly expecting us.  Thinking that if they were sat around a table drinking tea, they couldn’t have looked less wild.  Walking back through potato fields in torrential rain.  A memorably expensive, wet and muddy experience.
• Learning (again) never to leave the Beast in the hands of African car mechanics:  Rocking the vehicle at the back and producing alarming screeching noises.  Visiting an expert mechanic who pointed out a slightly damaged rubber bush connecting the end of one of the rear leaf springs, saying, that’s the problem.  Thinking, it would take me thirty minutes to fix, and they’d probably get it done in half that time; leaving them to it.  Four hours later returning to find three mechanics, sweat running down their foreheads under the front end of the vehicle – having just completed replacing all the bushes to all the springs, twenty four in total!  Them proudly driving the car out, me rocking the back again to check; everyone falling about holding their ears, the screeching being so loud!  The car returned twenty minutes later with strips of plastic (credit card) between the rear spring leaves.  Checking it again – not a murmur.  Total cost two hundred dollars cash!   Ouch!  (The noise at the back had gone but unsurprisingly even louder screeching noises were heard coming from the front as it pulled away).

Rwanda will be remembered for the special friends we made at Solace Ministries and for all the time and kindness shown us there.  I am tempted to share how we both felt when faced with the reality of genocide in Rwanda but not here, and not as a backwards glance.

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TANZANIA

February 2007

Although we had an early start at the border, our first day in Tanzania was long and arduous:  the road to Mwanza, on Lake Victoria, is a dirt road, with numerous boulders and holes, made more difficult because a new road is in the process of being built.  We arrived at the ferry at 6 p.m. but found that priority was given to trucks, and we were kept waiting for more than three hours.  By the time we arrived in Mwanza, we found that access to the only campsite was closed, and we visited five different hotels before we found one with vacancies!  We ended up in a five star hotel, not much appreciated by us at 12.30 a.m. in the morning!

The following day, we found our lakeside campsite, and I tackled the washing, whilst David dealt with some car maintenance.  In the night, there was a tropical storm – quite spectacular – and we realised that inclement weather could mean another change of route.  As we had only four days in which to meet Kathryn and Simon in Moshi, we decided to take the more direct route, through the Serengeti and Ngorongoro National Parks.  It was a most enjoyable, if expensive, route!  Those vast plains have to be seen to be believed, and it was great to see the animals in such a natural habitat. 

After exiting the National Parks, we found a small campsite to stay a night, then there were some excellent roads to Moshi, where we settled down at the Honey Badger campsite, to wait for Kathryn’s arrival.  What this site lacked in facilities was more than compensated for by the friendliness of the staff, especially Mr. Msangi, the manager.  We attended a cultural evening, which was really enjoyable, experiencing local music and dancing – which I bravely joined in with, whilst David looked on!  Mama Lucy, the larger than life owner of the campsite, gave us excellent information about local culture and traditions.

 It was great to see Kathryn and Simon, and to catch up with news from home.  We spent an enjoyable time with them, during which they climbed Kilimanjaro (which we chickened out of), they went on safari with us and they spent some time on their own in Zanzibar.  Kathryn has painted her own picture of their stay. 

Kathryn and Simon meet ‘The Beast’

From the top of one crater to the bottom of another

Following our conquest of Mount Kilimanjaro, along with its trials of altitude sickness - of which I won’t grace you with overbearing detail, other than to say stuff came out, but I still got to the top (yay!) - we decided to relax our legs a bit closer to sea level, with a leisurely safari in ‘The Beast’.  So we made our way to the Ngorongoro National Park (a volcanic crater measuring 610 metres deep by 260 square km).  Driving down into the crater was a fantastic experience, with stunning views of scenic grandeur that seemed characteristic of the East African landscape:  big, flat, lots of sky!  And I felt like I was living in The Lion King (A woomba wah…) which incidentally was my highly informed reference point to the various wild beasts we encountered along the way. 

Once inside the crater, Simon and I decided a better vantage point would be from above, so we perched ourselves atop the parental home and clung on for dear life whilst we bumped our way along, until we were told off by a guide in a passing Jeep, who promptly indicated to us with no uncertain gestures to get inside.  “Dangerous” he said.  I cast my eye around for fear of passing simba that might leap on us for lack of anything meatier, but other than zebra and gazelle, no such “dangerous” beasts seemed to be lurking near.  However, we obeyed the orders of the passing guide and slipped back inside our (un-guided) transport.  I hasten to add at this point that I was out numbered three to one against hiring a guide, as my increasingly independent gypsy parents and my equally independent stubborn boyfriend insisted we go it alone.  My arguments were based on supporting eco-tourism, as well as the idea of practicing my Swahili (all of about six words that I had picked up on the mountain).

So, my Dad manoeuvred ‘The Beast’ around the park, as we kept our eyes peeled for the illustrious Lions that I was so eager to see.  But it seemed they were keeping themselves well hidden, and instead we passed buffalo, zebra, flamingo, hyena, far off elephants, more zebra and the occasional, oh so attractive wart hog.  Until, that is, my bladder bade me retreat from ‘The Beast’ to wee behind, well nothing, other than the odd zebra and I really didn’t want to disturb them!  So anyway, there I was, mid-flow, knickers round my ankles, when I get “Kathryn, get back inside… there’s a lion!”  Now, bearing in mind how much my loving boyfriend enjoys frightening me at every opportunity, I took this as another one of his wind-ups and made my way back into the vehicle only to discover, this boy had cried wolf too many times, and now he had cried lion, and there indeed right next to ‘The Beast’, was another beast, the long sought after lion, in fact a whole little family of them (minus the dad) and I had been relieving my bladder, only metres away from where they lay sleepily in the grass.  But I think even if they did smell me out, they looked too tired and lazy to really bother.  Besides, I don’t have that much meat on me, and I’m sure I could out-run them! (Simon will no doubt disagree with both of these assertions!)

So after lingering for a while to watch the yawning simba, we made our way in search of another of the Big Five:  the elephant.  We could see them in the distance.  The challenge was finding suitable paths towards them, and this proved to be harder than it seemed, as many of the paths had been affected by the recent rains, and some blocked off with large boulders.  Our next near scrape with disaster was just around the corner (am I being over-dramatic? I am an actress, and this is The Lion King don’t forget) as ‘The Beast’ sank its back wheel into four feet of mud.  Then we were stuck, and no amount of “I told you we should have taken a guide” could distract from the calamity of our situation.  We were in the middle of this vast expanse of land, not another vehicle in sight and we were stuck.  We all had to get out.  Mum was panicking that ‘The Beast’ would topple into the mud, I was panicking that we would be eaten by lions, already having imagined it in great detail, which is a rather gory affair inside my over-active imagination, until eventually Dad walked off towards a Jeep in the far distance to my cries of “Don’t go, they’ll eat you for supper!”  Meanwhile, Simon, seemingly oblivious to the predicament, was leisurely taking pictures of an elephant with my Dad’s super new zoom lens camera!  Mum had detached the red curtains from the inside of the vehicle, and the two of us were waving frantically in the air whilst screaming for help, at which point I realise I have become as neurotic as my Mum!  And then I don’t know which is more frightening; facing certain death at the hands of wild beasts, or growing up to be exactly like my mother!

Dad returned with a tourist truck, apologising to the passengers for diverting them from their, probably over-priced, safari tour, and tried to explain our predicament to the driver, and ask if he could help.  I think the driver took one look at us foolish mazungus without the obligatory guide and decided he wasn’t going to be much use.  However, help was at hand, when a truck full of African men pulled up and they all got out with much amusement, jumped straight into the mud to dig us out, and attached the winch to their truck to pull ‘The Beast’ onto dry land.  They were amazing!  I think they rather enjoyed the challenge, and after shaking them all by the hand, they left us to our ways.  We moved onwards, a little more nervously than before, and having had my fill of adventure, I was quite relieved to make our way back out of the crater, which in itself was rather more hair-raising than the drive in, as we bumped along on the precipice of the crater rim, a rather steep drop to the right.

So, after our encounter with ‘The Beast’ and the beasts, Simon and I decided a much relaxing Zanzibarian beach was calling to us, and we left for a few days to soak up the sun on the beautiful spice island, where lie some of the most beautiful beaches in the world: turquoise sea, endless white sand and some great snorkelling to be had.

Our African adventure was but a microcosm of what Mum and Dad are experiencing.  But it left me with many fond memories of a beautiful country, another pace of life, and some very friendly people.  I would love to go back one day.  But for now, I can say much of those two and a half weeks was a once in a life-time experience, and I am so proud of my travelling Ma and Pa, who seem to be enjoying their own adventure in equal amounts.  I never thought I would be the more sensible one.  But deep down, I love the fact that they are doing something a bit mad.

So, here’s to the rest of the adventure… The Odyssey that is Africa. 

March 2007

A highlight of our time in Moshi was being invited to breakfast by Mr. Msangi, to meet his wife and family.  We had a very enjoyable visit and really appreciated their hospitality.  By this time, the young people had disappeared to Zanzibar, and we set off to the coast for an enjoyable few days at Peponi, a beach site south of Tanga, before rejoining Kathryn and Simon in Dar es Salaam before their flight home.

We then moved to Kipepeo, a lovely beach campsite south of Dar, where we met up again with Martin, our motorcyclist friend from Manchester, whom we had last seen in Nairobi.  We also met up with Marc and Christine again, and the five of us went across to Zanzibar, for a few days.  We enjoyed visiting the famous island, especially Stone Town.  But after four nights we were glad to return ‘home’ to ‘The Beast’ at Kipepeo, a beach which competes well with anything Zanzibar has to offer, in our opinion!

Whilst at Kipepeo, David (as usual) made friends with the night watchman, and bought him a beer whilst they chatted.  Daniel then invited us to breakfast one morning with his family:  chapattis and spiced tea, which was lovely.  We enjoyed travelling on the dalla-dallas, a mini-bus built for 14 people, which at its most crowded carried 26!

We once again changed our plans for the next stage of our journey.  We met some South Africans, who confirmed that the roads south into Mozambique were impassable, due to the heavy monsoon rains.  So we decided to drive into Malawi instead, where the roads are apparently much better.

After a few more days at Kipepeo (I have difficulty prying David away from a lovely beach, especially when the weather is hot and sunny) we set off south west, stopping at Mikumi, Iringa and Mbeya.  This part of Tanzania is particularly beautiful: very green and mountainous and we enjoyed a leisurely few days as we made our way to the Malawi border. 

Our whole experience of Tanzania was very positive:  it is a really lovely country with friendly, hospitable people and we enjoyed all six weeks of our time there.

A Backwards Glance at Tanzania:

A Tick is a nasty little blood sucking creature, anatomically it’s all mouth and teeth, which it uses to bite and feed off its victims.  They are almost impossible to remove once attached.  The Touts in Tanzania (especially at Ferry Ports and on Zanzibar) are known as Ticks - Papasi in Swahili.  Naturally they are not the same; Ticks do not lie and pretend to be friendly while planning how to trick and cheat you.  To call a Tick a Tout would be insulting, to call a Tout a Tick is actually being complimentary:

• The early quick start from the Rwanda Border.  The Long hour wait at the Tanzanian Border.  The quick dash along the twenty kilometers of road to the Mwanza turn off.  The long nine hours of mud and rocks to the Ferry Port.  The quick arrival and departure of the Ferry (without us).  The long three hours at the mercy of the Papasi and purchase of Tanzania’s most expensive Mango, while waiting for the Ferry’s return.   
• The amazing drive across the Serengeti and Ngorongoro  National Parks and my first river crossing.  Discovering how much I enjoyed Indian cuisine at Vama restaurant on the site of ShopRite Shopping Centre - Arusha.
• Trying to haggle the price from $5 to $8 a night with Mr Msangi at Honey Badger Camp Site and failing!  My first and final taste of Banana Beer which you can’t get drunk on because it makes you sick long before enough can be consumed.
• Learning that my Actress Daughter can play the part of Daniel in the Lions Den with stunning realism. 
• That night swim at Kipepeo and seeing phosphorescence for the first time.  Clever Martin, the motorcyclist, repairing the horn and headlight on the ‘Beast’.   Enjoying  ‘Kilimanjaros’ with Daniel, a camp guard, our long chats under the stars and the invitation to breakfast.
• The final parting embraces with our dear Austrian friends Mark and Christine before they sped off south in their Yellow Land Rover ahead of us.
• The sense of leaving more than the Indian Ocean behind as we drove away from sunny Kipepeo and headed off to the border with Malawi.

For me, Tanzania was like the Indian Ocean, Clean, Beautiful, Warm, Relaxing – pity about the Sharks.  The time with Kathryn and Simon was the highlight of our stay.

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MALAWI

March 2007

Malawi has been described as ‘The warm heart of Africa’, which I think is an apt description for such a beautiful country, with warm hearted and welcoming people.  We crossed the border easily, we Brits needing no visas, and made our way down the side of Lake Malawi, with a