10 Days in Uganda, Day 6, to Kisoro
Our journey to Kisora took us on a short safari through the Queen Elizabeth National Park.We could see elephants in the distance and many water bucks, kobs, water buffalo, hippos and gibbons. But we were disappointed not to see zebras and giraffes in particular. We were told the recent rain had sent many animals deeper into the bush (where they kept their umbrellas, no doubt). However, a driver stopped to tell us where we could see lions eating a water buffalo. Moses’ eyes lit up at this and he became very excited. He really wanted to see a lion eating a buffalo and we shot off at great speed. We reached the place before the lions had finished their breakfast. One female ate while the others stood guard. We warily climbed out of the car to get a better view. Suddenly, a lion’s head popped up from the grass uncomfortably close by. Moses reached for the thin twig he had picked to ward off attacking lions. I didn’t fancy his chances with this, though he did use it later on, very effectively, to shoo off little boys who were coming too close to the car to beg.
The road from Kabale to Kisora was appalling. The word “road” is a ludicrous exaggeration for that dirt track with ruts in it the size of the Grand Canyon. Huge articulated lorries carrying petrol thundered along sending up clouds of dust and thick, blue diesel fumes while we picked our way between the crevasses, fearful that the back axle was about to drop off. Moses stopped to examine the back of the car. “What’s up?” we asked. “There’s a strange noise.” There was a strange noise. He jumped back in the car and resumed the switchback ride strangely unconcerned. We, however, were haunted by that noise all the way to Kisoro and back knowing that the nearest RAC man was at least 4,000 miles away. The noise mysteriously disappeared when we hit tarmac again. But sometimes, when dusk falls and the night is still, I can hear that strange noise taunting me from afar.
It had taken 2 hours to travel 50 miles and our internal organs were playing musical chairs. My knuckles hadn’t been so white since a ride on Disney’s Space Mountain, where the drops weren’t so sheer and I had never thought I might actually die.
The fading light didn’t improve the feeling of gloom and depression that hung in the air over Kisoro. The poverty seemed no worse than anywhere else, the rubbish tips were just the same, the shops just as drab. Huge chunks of meat for sale hung outside the butchers’ shops to collect dust and flies just as anywhere else in Uganda. It was probably the sight of these that gave us our first and enduring bout of diarrhoea. I apologise for this subject. It’s a bit like vomit. I didn’t want to bring it up. We were very particular about hygiene and washed our hands every time we saw a toilet. We had bottles of ant-bacterial gel and were careful what we ate. We certainly didn’t eat the gel. Sometimes we were caught unawares, such as by the shredded goat meat on the avocado that was hidden under a dollop of 1000 island dressing ( They had, obviously, forgotten to remove a cess pit from one of the islands before they made the dressing). I suspect the currency is a great transmitter of disease. The bacteria on some of the filthy brown notes was probably the only thing holding them together.
The television in the hotel room that night had only 1 channel. Previously we had had 3, namely 2 football channels and an African soap much like Neighbours only much slower and worse acting. Boy was it bad? I mentioned this lack of choice ( i.e. football or off) to the porter who said he could change the channel from reception. Which did I want BBC or CNN? Either would be fine. A few minutes later the screen flickered and the channel changed to rugby football. I gave up, exercised choice and switched off.
The Ugandans are crazy about football, especially the English Premier League. They wear the strips and know who all the footballers are, like er, (who do I know?) Oh, yes, David Beckham. Slogans painted on their vehicles such as “Jesus lives” and “God is Great” rub shoulders with “Arsenal” and Man. Utd”. (see Gallery)
There is one good thing about Kisoro. It’s near the Rwandan border where petrol is a lot cheaper. Uganda has abolished Road Fund Duty and placed it on petrol. Our hotel wasn’t in a good location, though, being next to a disco that raved until the early hours. This was complemented a bit later by the Muslim call to prayer. All that was missing was a cock crowing. No, I spoke too soon. There it goes….. cock-a-doodle-do. What joy.