The
bus ride to Kabale (just above the border to Rwanda) was 7 1/2 hours, but
beautiful. It wasn`t the most comfortable ride ever as the seats were hard and
I had my backpack on my lap for all but an hour of the trip, but I had George
beside me and was content to just chat and watch the scenery go by. There were
some interesting parts to be sure, like how bouncy it was in the back of the
bus over the rough spots, putting together sandwiches with the remaining bread
and cheese from La Petite and a pee break that involved a handful of Ugandan
women squatting in a humorously sparse forest within 20 feet from the bus; they
looked like a bunch of large colorful hens roosting on the forest floor. Another
interesting aspect of that drive was how much it reminded me of the drive to
Osoyoos through the Okanagan; miles of green hills, fields and forests broken
up by small towns and orchards and spotted with the odd dilapidated wooden barn.
Except in this case it was fields of tea, orchards of banana trees, dilapidated
brick and cement structures and instead of towns with establishments like Earl’s Hardware Store and Flo’s Café, there were long rows of
identical cement storefronts painted in all different colors and selling
anything from Mentos to mattresses. Other colors notwithstanding, but most
predominantly the telltale red of Coke, MTN’s vibrant yellow and the bright
blue of Uganda Telecom leading me to a most startling revelation - all across
this planet, there are seemingly two things that we cannot live without:
cellphones and Coca Cola.
Our
arrival in Kabale was met by a whole new pack of wolves waiting to ambush us as
we exited the bus but I was prepared and just pushed through them as George and
Emily followed behind and with an edge in my voice asked that they all back off
until I`d spoken to my friends. Luckily both George and I caught the eye of a
kind looking older man through the bus window as we were pulling in who just
smiled and waved his key, so when he showed up in front of me soon after, I
said, ”Let`s go”. It was a 15 or so minute drive to the dock where we boarded a
rather sketchy-looking canoe made from a hollowed out tree and another hour
paddling across Lake Bunyonyi to the island that accommodates Byoona Amagara;
the resort we stayed at. This was the perfect beginning as we were tired from
the trip, but the lake was calm and quiet and the sun was setting, it`s muted
rays causing the lake to sparkle like a disco ball. As we neared the island,
George got it in her head to take a little swim. We weren’t sure which island
it was so she asked the guy, “How much longer is it, 5 minutes, 10 minutes,
half hour?” He replied, confidently, “5 minutes.” 15/20 minutes later, we
arrived at the dock and an exhausted George waded onto shore. We arrived on the
island with just enough light to have time to settle ourselves in our
incredible ”Geodome”; a thatch dome with three beds, some shelves and tables
with a large opening leading directly to our porch and affording us a glorious
view of the lake.
The first night was unexpectedly cold and George and I both woke up early because
of it; we later came to an agreement that if either of us woke up cold like
that again, we were free to climb in bed with the other. As much as I liked the
thought of waking up to the sun shining after a glorious uninterrupted sleep-in
(something that is simply impossible at home), I admit to absolutely reveling
in the complete and utter silence that was afforded until a little before 7
when the birds started with their morning symphony. Even though the extra
clothes and extra blanket kept me warm during the subsequent nights, I still
woke up early every morning and never once did I wish it any other way.
George
and I had to be up early that first morning anyways to take a very chilly 8am boat
ride to the mainland as this was the day of our trip down to Kigali, the
capital city of Rwanda and the starting point of the 1994 genocide that took
the lives of up to 300,000 people. I was hoping to be home as early as possible to
get the most out of our time on the island, but the process of getting down ended
up taking nearly twice the time I had anticipated. After we got to the
mainland, we caught a boda to Kabale town then opted to grab a private hire as
our hands and feet were frozen and it would have been another 30 minute or so
boda ride to the border. The border was a bit time consuming, but interesting
to say the least. We were bombarded by men wanting us to exchange money (which
we did end up doing at a rather horrible exchange rate due to the fact that we
needed money for the matatu), got a Ugandan exit stamp, walked 5 minutes
through no man’s land to reach Rwandan customs and then went through a
final security check before finally stepping foot past the gate into Rwanda. We
had expected a long row of matatus lined up to take people into the country,
namely Kigali, but ended walking for a good 15/20 minutes down the road before
finding just two, parked and nearly full. We agreed on a price, squished into
the backseat and sat for a bit listening to a mix of Ugandan and late 90’s
worship music before heading off.
If
it had been a straight shot, we may have made up on some time, but between
having to stop and get out for a police inspection and stopping every 5 minutes
to pick up or drop off other travellers, it was noon by the time we reached the
city; 5 hours from when we left the island. The drive was incredibly beautiful though;
especially the first hour or so as it was spent traveling along a windy road built
into the hills that flank a valley flowing with tea bushes that went on for
miles and miles. Our time in the city was short but sweet. We took a boda
straight to the Genocide Memorial, spent just a couple hours there and grabbed
lunch at the café before heading back to the taxi park. I won’t spend any time
going into the memorial as it was everything you would expect - informative and
devastating – but the city itself was pretty amazing; this strangely modern,
industrial-feeling city surrounded by all the dust, simplicity and desperation you’d
expect from most African landscapes. And the bodas, don’t get me started… They
were more like street bikes then the ghetto hogs we have in Jinja. There are
also more safety regulations in Kigali pertaining to bodas – single passenger only
and helmet required – but they were made rather redundant by the fact that the
helmets weren’t easy to tighten, therefore had to be held on, and the paved
roads equaled much higher speeds; not that I’m complaining. J Just to
make the ride even more interesting, George was proposed to and when told that
she was already married (a lie), the driver inquired, “What about that one?”,
in reference to me. How romantic.
We
really wanted to get home before dark and it was looking like that might not be
possible but upon returning to the taxi park, we started asking random people
where we’d find a matatu to Gatuma (the border city) and were led to none other
than the exact matatu we came down on. I most definitely said a wee little
prayer of thanks as this led me to believe there were few matatus that take
that trip and the fact that we took 2 of the last few seats left me even that
much more grateful.
The
trip home was, thankfully, much quicker as everyone with us was going to the
same place therefore giving no reason to stop. Getting through the border was
much quicker as well simply because we knew the process and we called the same
driver who picked us up in Kabale to take us all the way back to the dock.
Apart from making the unwise choice of walking a ways while we waited for
Justice (our driver) to show up (we couldn’t have been stared at more if we
were walking along the road buck naked), we made good time and got back to the
island just as the sun was setting.
Initially
we only had one full day to spend on the island, but midway through, after
having a glorious morning eating crepes, going swimming (it’s the only lake in
Uganda that’s safe to swim in) and reading Hunger Games on our little patio, I
broached the subject of extending our trip just one more night because…well,
why not? It was an easy choice and the only complication was that we had to
move to a fabulous, quaint little cottage just a short staircase from the
water’s edge. I am telling no lie when I say that this cottage made us all feel
as though we’d entered into the Magical
World of Disney; I swear I wouldn’t have been surprised had the 7 dwarves
come wandering home from a day at the mines. Two days of relaxation on a
gorgeous island surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve set my eyes
on and nights hanging out with George and Emily talking, drinking white wine
spritzers and reading our novels of choice, was just what the doctor ordered.
We
got an early start Monday morning and the trip home went faster than expected
and wasn’t horrible despite how unpleasant it sounds to spend 8 hours on a bus
and 3 hours on a crowded matatu, given the dust and the propensity of Ugandans
to drive as fast as physically possible which,
even for me, can be pretty unnerving at times. On the bus, George and I had two seats
raised above the main door which afforded us a much more open and spacious ride
but when choosing, I did not account for how much traffic and activity there
would be as people got on and off the bus. The view was just barely consolation for the
amount of times I was hit in the head with an elbow or a piece of luggage. The
matatu ride included a small fender bender in a crowded roundabout, George sick
in the back row and a few near death experiences. It was definitely a long day,
though, catching the boat at 8, getting a car to Kabale, taking the bus to
Kampala, a matatu to Jinja and catching a boda straight to worship night to
hang out with some friends (including the girls from the house that we left
behind); basically every kind of transport available in Uganda, within a 12 hour period.
All
in all, besides taking a rather pathetic, slow motion tumble down some stone
steps that left me bruised, face down in the garden, it was a wonderful holiday
full of great life experiences, rich conversation and just plain old good times
with friends.
Next
on the docket is a trip to Zanzibar, Tanzania at the end of March with my
friend, Laura; she’s from Edmonton but we met in Haiti 2 ½ years ago. She left
around the time I did and is currently teaching in Abu Dhabi so we’re meeting
up to spend her spring break on some of the most beautiful beaches in the
world.
I
do apologize for the massive amounts of words without any visual aids, but I
thought the best thing to do would be to put together a video which I will post
a link to soon.
3 comments:
Great post. I love your updates, and I miss you!
-Jennifer
Your descriptions were better than photographs, it sounds magical! Minus the transportation.
E
What a beautiful vacation. The time on the island sounds absolutely wonderful. Glad you made it safely home.
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