A quiet night in...........

Well, I had a planned a quiet night in with Ernest Hemingway (apparently, the bridge does it) when 25 drunk young Kampalans kidnapped me and took me to a bar.... again.
Stockholm Syndrome being what it is, I soon adopted their philosophy - Tigunye!

After a lot of beers and a rambling discussion on gynaecology (they are a forthright people), I was told that I couldn't leave Uganda without having a Rolex. This is a chapatti / omelette ensemble and the perfect end of evening street food for drunks.

I probably won't drink on the flight home today.

Thank you Uganda, you've been great company.

Oh go on then.....

Happy now?

That's all folks!

Well, yes. That is rather it. The bike has gone back, I've had a valedictory booze up in Kampala and now I'm really just waiting for BA to send the big metal bird to collect me and deposit me back in rainy old England.

I would like to thank the hundreds of who contributed to this blog but since it was only me and a bottle of milk stout , I won't.

I will say in conclusion that you should do something like this and soon. If a half-witted dipsomaniac like me can wobble around Africa for a few days, then there are few reasons, beyond inertia, for your not doing something similar.

And here's a quick picture to illustrate what a rotten time I've had...

Chris

Soapy Trip Wa**

Soapy Trip Wash.

Yes it's time to get the bike all soapy and wash off the dirt from the trip. Obviously, I didn't do it myself - I used one of Kampala's many Boda Wash facilities.

People who know me will tell you that, normally, there's nothing I like more than sitting down for a couple of hours and giving my bikes a really thorough clean. Nothing says "futility of existence" quite like cleaning all the gunky bits behind the engine with your toothbrush.

Actually, I shouldn't knock cleaning and those who practice it because there's a very nice man in St Opsley who is polishing the exhaust pipes on my Nelli at this very moment. And I imagine that the scene there, looks exactly like this:

Kitten pictures

Look, you're really going to have to stop believing me about these kittens pictures. It's not going to happen.

Anyway, I've just got back into Kampala where the lovely ladies at my guest house took one look at me and made me tea and toast. Bloody marvellous. I don't know about Speke when he got back from Lake Victoria but if he had anything other than jam on toast, he was just wrong.

..... Lummee, I must look worse than I thought coz they've also done me a huge plate of fruit. Extremely kind of them and guaranteed to ward off scurvy

Ferry, Cross Da Mwanza

As sung by that rather middle-classed Merseyside band, Gerry and the Breadmakers.

This is the bike, quietly tucked away on a ferry across the Mwanza gulf. It's the Busisi - Kikongo ferry, the alternative being a 200km detour. You'll notice that I'm taking the photo from the "back" of the boat (Stop me if I use too many nautical terms). This is so that, when the captain realises he's forgotten to put the plug in or something equally vital, I can swim with a school of happy hippos back to shore.

Safety regulations weren't quite as front and centre as they are in Europe.

All very amusing until, on the way out of Mwanza, I passed the rather sweet memorial to 100 or so who died when a previous Ferry sunk. 

Sorry for the lack of kittens. Next time, deffo.

Wot no Kenya?

So keen geographers (those who, for example, know that it is some considerable distance between Kampala and Freetown, Sierra Leone) will notice the lack of posts from Kenya. Well now, there's a thing....

My old granny said "If you can't say anything nice about someone then don't say anything at all" but then she was a flatulent old baggage with wonky teeth and a penchant for Gin.

Anyway, after the waterfront idyll which was Musoma, Kenya was almost guaranteed to disappoint and I'm afraid it did.

I'd heard many bad reports but was anxious to see for myself and not to add to the canon but, like Thucydides describing the Peloponnesian War, I can only describe what I saw:

A lot of "You give me money" type begging which was in marked contrast to the other three countries.

Bad roads and by some considerable margin, the most dangerous driving I've seen.

The main Nairobi Road ending in a heap of putrid rubbish

Sadly, I can't recall a single actively positive experience beyond, perhaps, the hotel staff being quite pleasant and even then it lacked a warmth I'd received elsewhere. In contrast, I could list dozens from Rwanda, TZ and Uganda. 

But I was only there for 36 hours and may have just lucked out. I genuinely hope you'll go there, have a wonderful time and meet all the nice people I so improbably missed. I certainly agonised about posting as negative a portrayal as this but then, you know, Thucydides and all that.

Sorry for being serious - I promise the next post will have cute kittens and fart gags in it