From Kibale it was an all day drive to Murchison Falls. The road is rough and a lot of it is also under construction between Kibale and Hoima. We tried taking short cuts to avoid some of the traffic congestion. It's hard to know if it saved us much time but it was scenic, traveling through tea plantations with row upon row of lush green shrubs. We even saw some tea being harvested, a process that is still done solely by hand. We passed through many small trading centers with shops selling household goods and motorcycle tires and parts the most common goods for sale. We also passed one market that was enormous. It was an open air affair and the traders were setting up their wares in a large field as we passed. The space was crowded with bright plastic tubs and utensils as well as batik clothing in an array of colors and patterns. There were still more vendors on their way in trucks loaded with both the salespeople and their products. It would have been fun to stop if we hadn't needed to travel so far. Blackie said the market was bigger because it is close to Christmas. Although it hardly feels like it to us, being over 80F every day.
We continued onward towards Hoima, our lunch break destination. The ruts and potholes in the road providing an "African massage" as the locals like to joke. Just about 30 miles from Hoima, Blackie saw a man he knew waving on the roadside, in front of a school. He needed a ride to Hoima so we picked him up. His name was Owen and he was a teacher at the school. We had a nice chat, learning he had a sister and brother in law in Salt Lake City.
We continued onward towards Hoima, our lunch break destination. The ruts and potholes in the road providing an "African massage" as the locals like to joke. Just about 30 miles from Hoima, Blackie saw a man he knew waving on the roadside, in front of a school. He needed a ride to Hoima so we picked him up. His name was Owen and he was a teacher at the school. We had a nice chat, learning he had a sister and brother in law in Salt Lake City.
We dropped him off when we reached Hoima and went to have our lunch. Hoima is a fairly good size town. It is home to King Solomon, the ruler of the Bunyoro Tribe. His grandfather put up significant resistance against the British and was exiled to the Seychelles. Solomon was restored to power, at least symbolically, at a coronation in 1994.
The landscape became more rural again outside the city with the main crop transitioning from corn and bananas to cassava root. This starchy staple is popular because you can leave it in the ground until you are ready to use it. The green tops are also good fodder for goats and cattle.
The closer we got to the rift valley the poorer the area became with fewer brick houses and the majority of residents living in mud huts with grass thatched rooves. It is hard to imagine 5 or 6 people residing in these tiny structures, most of which were smaller than our garage. There were many people hauling water and other necessities like firewood on their heads. Some of loads seemed to defy gravity and indicated both the strength and ingenuity of the individual carrying them.
As strong as these individuals were, some were overly ambitious about the capability of their vehicles. We passed one car that had failed to negotiate a turn. The result appeared to be mostly chaos without serious injury as the former passengers collected their possessions and milled about waiting for another ride. A second car was so overloaded its rear bumper was dragging in the dirt, the only part of the vehical that was visible as we approached. Incredibly, it looked as though the entire contents of a household has been loaded into the trunk along with at least four passengers inside. There were matresses, overflowing bags of clothing, plastic cleaning and cooking tubs and even a enormous bundle of firewood strapped in place. Not surprisingly, the car appeared to have overheated ascending a small hill.
We soon crested the top of the rise and were greeted with our first views of the rift valley, Lake Albert and Murchison National Park. The land stretching in a broad plateau to the lake with the foothills of the Blue Mountains hiding in the haze on the opposite bank.
The landscape became more rural again outside the city with the main crop transitioning from corn and bananas to cassava root. This starchy staple is popular because you can leave it in the ground until you are ready to use it. The green tops are also good fodder for goats and cattle.
The closer we got to the rift valley the poorer the area became with fewer brick houses and the majority of residents living in mud huts with grass thatched rooves. It is hard to imagine 5 or 6 people residing in these tiny structures, most of which were smaller than our garage. There were many people hauling water and other necessities like firewood on their heads. Some of loads seemed to defy gravity and indicated both the strength and ingenuity of the individual carrying them.
As strong as these individuals were, some were overly ambitious about the capability of their vehicles. We passed one car that had failed to negotiate a turn. The result appeared to be mostly chaos without serious injury as the former passengers collected their possessions and milled about waiting for another ride. A second car was so overloaded its rear bumper was dragging in the dirt, the only part of the vehical that was visible as we approached. Incredibly, it looked as though the entire contents of a household has been loaded into the trunk along with at least four passengers inside. There were matresses, overflowing bags of clothing, plastic cleaning and cooking tubs and even a enormous bundle of firewood strapped in place. Not surprisingly, the car appeared to have overheated ascending a small hill.
We soon crested the top of the rise and were greeted with our first views of the rift valley, Lake Albert and Murchison National Park. The land stretching in a broad plateau to the lake with the foothills of the Blue Mountains hiding in the haze on the opposite bank.
We quickly descended and covered another 40 or so miles to our ultimate destination for the night, Murchison River Lodge. We thought we may have to walk the last few miles as the deeply rutted road continued to narrow. Just about the time we thought we would not make it the road flattened again and we soon reached the property gate. Taylor and I agreed we were impressed with Blackie's driving and even more impressed with people who negotiate these roads on self guided tours. If the driving had been up to me I would have given up long before, thinking there was no way the lodge could be down such a nearly impassible road.
We were greeted cheerfully as we arrived and appreciated the traditional hospitality of offering a cool beverage, in this case mango juice, to road weary travelers. We were excited to learn ther was a pool! After getting situated in our well appointed tent, we headed straight for the oasis.
We were greeted cheerfully as we arrived and appreciated the traditional hospitality of offering a cool beverage, in this case mango juice, to road weary travelers. We were excited to learn ther was a pool! After getting situated in our well appointed tent, we headed straight for the oasis.
Apparently, we weren't the only ones drawn to the refreshing water. As we stood ready to enter the pool gate a large male baboon made his way over the fence and settled himself down by the wading pool for a drink. We watched and waited for a minute or two while he finshed and made his exit before hopping in for a swim.
We completed our evening with a beautiful BBQ dinner, l had Nile perch! Then dancing to a local band around the campfire. It feels like an amazing camp with incredible wildlife.
We completed our evening with a beautiful BBQ dinner, l had Nile perch! Then dancing to a local band around the campfire. It feels like an amazing camp with incredible wildlife.
 |
| A family of baboons we saw on the road to Kibale. Maybe the cousin of the one we saw at the pool at Murchison River Lodge! |
No comments:
Post a Comment