Nothing is ever easy in Africa!
HONK! CLANK! JAMBO! The sound of early morning life whizzing past my unsealed hostel room window, hurled me from bed! After only 2 precious hours of “non-moving" sleep, following a 4:30 am overnight bus arrival, I wrestled with the mosquito net, creating a gap just wide enough to roll onto the dormitory floor.
Climbing a rickety wooden ladder to the hostels, “birds nest cafe”, the combination of chilly morning air and steamy Africa tea (black tea brewed in full-cream, cows milk) pumped sense back into my wearied brain. Formulating a plan for the day, my to do list seemed simple and straight-forward but I soon realized, nothing is ever easy in Africa!
1. Organize cheap (or as cheap as I could find) transport to Bwindi National Park for my gorilla trek.
2. Find desperately needed internet to update social media and let Mom and Dad know I’m alive.
3. Purchase contact solution.
The first order of business, transportation to the national park. Not sure why I assumed local matatus or tourist buses would be traveling to one of the most remote parts of Ugandan jungle but I soon learned the jarring reality. There was only one option for transportation, private hire taxi. Opening prices for a round trip private hire taxi to the national park (2 hours one-way) cost 250,000 Ugandan Shillings (100 USD). WTF? I just paid 500 USD for the gorilla tracking fee, now I have to tack on another hundy?? Clearly shocked, I retreated from the stand and composed my bargaining angle. 2 hours and about a dozen taxi drivers later, I reduced the price to 200,000 Ugandan Shillings (80 USD) but still wasn’t pleased with the financial blow. Retreating once again from the scene I decided to wait on booking and see who else I could stumble upon. (Note: Again, why traveling in Africa alone is EXPENSIVE. If only I could split these fees with a handful of fellow travelers and gorilla enthusiasts…alas…)
Then there was the issue of internet. Trudging up and down Kabales main street, I inquired at a handful of self-proclaimed, “internet cafes”, for laptop enabled wifi. "Laptop what?" Strike again Reg. Defeated, I returned to a nearby guesthouse and fired up one of their dial up speed desktops. A few hours, and only 2.5 completed emails later, I shut down the archaic beast and huffed away.
Next order of business, contact solution! Surely, this would be easy. Find a pharmacy, point at the solution bottle and pay the small sum. Wrong! It took 3 pharmacies, 1 eye clinic and even a local eye specialist, to realize my worst fears! The only contact solution in all of bloody Uganda was in the capital city of Kampala (8 hours away). All I could think was, “Don’t people in Uganda wear bloody contacts”, but the answer was written on every passerby's face. With a medium income classified as, “just enough”, no one had extra money for a luxury such as contacts. Looks like I would have to conserve the remaining dirty contact solution slopping around in my case until "optical civilization" could be reached. Sorry eyes!
Frustrated with my unproductive and uninspiring day, I packed my bag and hailed the nearest boda. “Take me to the lake,” I wailed. “Yes Madam!”
Climbing a rickety wooden ladder to the hostels, “birds nest cafe”, the combination of chilly morning air and steamy Africa tea (black tea brewed in full-cream, cows milk) pumped sense back into my wearied brain. Formulating a plan for the day, my to do list seemed simple and straight-forward but I soon realized, nothing is ever easy in Africa!
1. Organize cheap (or as cheap as I could find) transport to Bwindi National Park for my gorilla trek.
2. Find desperately needed internet to update social media and let Mom and Dad know I’m alive.
3. Purchase contact solution.
The first order of business, transportation to the national park. Not sure why I assumed local matatus or tourist buses would be traveling to one of the most remote parts of Ugandan jungle but I soon learned the jarring reality. There was only one option for transportation, private hire taxi. Opening prices for a round trip private hire taxi to the national park (2 hours one-way) cost 250,000 Ugandan Shillings (100 USD). WTF? I just paid 500 USD for the gorilla tracking fee, now I have to tack on another hundy?? Clearly shocked, I retreated from the stand and composed my bargaining angle. 2 hours and about a dozen taxi drivers later, I reduced the price to 200,000 Ugandan Shillings (80 USD) but still wasn’t pleased with the financial blow. Retreating once again from the scene I decided to wait on booking and see who else I could stumble upon. (Note: Again, why traveling in Africa alone is EXPENSIVE. If only I could split these fees with a handful of fellow travelers and gorilla enthusiasts…alas…)
Then there was the issue of internet. Trudging up and down Kabales main street, I inquired at a handful of self-proclaimed, “internet cafes”, for laptop enabled wifi. "Laptop what?" Strike again Reg. Defeated, I returned to a nearby guesthouse and fired up one of their dial up speed desktops. A few hours, and only 2.5 completed emails later, I shut down the archaic beast and huffed away.
Next order of business, contact solution! Surely, this would be easy. Find a pharmacy, point at the solution bottle and pay the small sum. Wrong! It took 3 pharmacies, 1 eye clinic and even a local eye specialist, to realize my worst fears! The only contact solution in all of bloody Uganda was in the capital city of Kampala (8 hours away). All I could think was, “Don’t people in Uganda wear bloody contacts”, but the answer was written on every passerby's face. With a medium income classified as, “just enough”, no one had extra money for a luxury such as contacts. Looks like I would have to conserve the remaining dirty contact solution slopping around in my case until "optical civilization" could be reached. Sorry eyes!
Frustrated with my unproductive and uninspiring day, I packed my bag and hailed the nearest boda. “Take me to the lake,” I wailed. “Yes Madam!”
Once home to a variety of Batwa Pygmy tribes, the picturesque hills surrounding Lake Bounyani now teem with local farmers recognized by their meticulously terraced farmlands. Following the steep hillsides downward, clean and cool Lake Bouyani has become a well-known lakeside reprieve for not only local Uganda residents, but also a large influx of exhausted tourists in need of R&R.
Zooming away from my Kabale stresses, I could feel a weight being lifted off my shoulders with each passing city block. Nothing could stop me now, well, except a different form of weight. My backpack! Crushing down on my soar neck and shoulder muscles, every bump and deviation in the road, left my back screaming in pain. I hate admitting I can’t do something but after 10-painful minutes, I squealed, “STOP!” I told him my back would split in two if we kept driving. He laughed and replied, “Give me.” Resting my big pack across his handlebars he volleyed the pressure from my back onto my mind. This can’t be safe!
Zooming away from my Kabale stresses, I could feel a weight being lifted off my shoulders with each passing city block. Nothing could stop me now, well, except a different form of weight. My backpack! Crushing down on my soar neck and shoulder muscles, every bump and deviation in the road, left my back screaming in pain. I hate admitting I can’t do something but after 10-painful minutes, I squealed, “STOP!” I told him my back would split in two if we kept driving. He laughed and replied, “Give me.” Resting my big pack across his handlebars he volleyed the pressure from my back onto my mind. This can’t be safe!
Breathing a deep sigh of relief when we pulled into the small lakeside port, I dismounted the boda and directly into the next mode of transport, canoe! Now, I wouldn’t have minded this section as much, considering I didn’t have to wear my big backpack for the duration but then the man handed me a paddle. Argh. An hour later we parked our dug out, rustic canoe next to a short, wooden dock. Thanking him for his service, I made the final climb of the day…to my dorm.
So here I sit, overlooking glistening Lake Bounyani, enjoying a cheese chapatti, luke-warm bottle of water and the rewarding sensation that only comes with a challenging day on the backpackers road! |