On the Nile without a Paddle

As an offshoot to organising the Banff Mountain Film Festival screenings in 2013 here in Uganda, one of the perks of the job came early in the New Year.  I was quite embarrassed to admit to Thomas; the part-owner of the Nalubale Rafting company in Jinja and one of our screening sponsors, that I had lived and travelled in Africa for over 10 years and yet had never jumped in a big, yellow, inflatable raft and let gravity and raging waters do their thing.  It’s not like I’d not been tempted though.  In fact it had found its way onto my bucket list of things to do before I turn 40, have children and…well I would add die to the end of that sentence too, but I suppose this is one of those things can could I suppose lead to that!  Especially when everyone you meet has a tale to tell about; a person they knew, who knew a man, who was travelling with someone etc etc etc.  So I’ll admit it was with butterflies in my stomach that on the weekend of my 33^rd birthday we were collected by our rented Matatu on our hill in Mutungo and bussed out to Jinja; the source of the White Nile, to get kitted up and sent off for our two day rafting expedition.

It’s strange, but as we practiced our drills at the start of day 1 with our Kiwi guide on the flat water above the first rapid – “the Dead Dutchman” – that I started to feel more at home, and it brought back fond memories of my Duke of Edinburgh Gold expedition; where we kayaked for 5 days in Southern Ireland.  Frankly it was just great to be in the water and out of the sun, but it was my intention to try and stay in the upright raft as long as possible.  Some people actively enjoy getting thrown from the rubber dinghy like circus midgets being launched from a comically large canon, but I saw this adventure more of a challenge to stay dry for as long as humanly possible.  Anyway after learning the ropes, which ones to keep hold of, and how to prevent knocking other people’s teeth out, we took our delegated positions and set off into the jaws of the first descent; over the waterfall at “Overtime.”  We’d been briefed about what to expect, and if I’m honest I was expecting the worst.  Maybe I’ve watched too many adrenaline fuelled films – primarily thanks to Banff – but I was happy to say that the drop was little over 10-15ft rather than the 50ft that I’d been anticipating with less than happy thoughts.  This is not to say that it wasn’t exciting, but as we crested the top and started to plunge I was exhilarated.  As the front of the boat hit the water I let out a howl of enjoyment and looked into the distance for the next one.  This was fun!

Of course now that the new Bujagali Dam has flooded the old upstream rapids above Overtime this first rapid allows the inexperienced to be gently introduced to the river.  However this comes to an abrupt end when you stare down and ultimately run the next set of cataracts at “Chop Suey” and “The Bad Place” at the base of the Itanda Falls.  Few people and certainly no amateurs like yours truly would be crazy enough to run the Itanda Falls, and just looking at the boiling swirling waters from the bank gives you a perspective and new found respect for this eternal and mystical river.  Since the Romans started trying to find the source of the World’s longest river people have often wondered where it began.  Even the Greeks through Ptolemy had their theories, but it wasn’t until Speke and Burton looked on Lake Victoria and then possibly further downstream as we were doing now, that they had any idea.  As you stare at the river descending over the falls as a single wall of water, it is easy to imagine how such a large volume can stretch for nearly two and a half thousand miles.  While from the thunderous roar it is mind blowing to considering it taking up to four weeks to reach its final destination at the Mediterranean Sea.

Anyway there wasn’t much time for contemplation because we were marching our raft overland and dropping back in below the Itanda Falls.  Our guide Reuben gestured for us to take up our positions for the second time and pushed off from the side.  For those reading this who maybe don’t know the certain features of river rapids, The Bad Place is known as a ‘hole’ by the rafting community.  Generally the water rushes over a more hollow section of the river bed or submerged object creating a depression in the water surface after this feature.  As it pops up the other side it produces a wave of water.  This wave acts in a very similar way to those in the sea, trying to force itself back up the river and allowing a kayak or small raft to sit within it for as long as it will allow you.  The drawback is that once you’ve entered it and had your fun it is generally the wave that decides when your enjoyment is up.  The Bad Place is such a wave, and with the speed and power with which our raft was crumpled, flipped and spat out, it certainly lives up to its name.

Between the class 3-5 rapid you have plenty of time to sit back and relax while the flatter sections of the river meander through the Ugandan landscape.  Drifting along we were able to cool off in the water beside the raft eating our lunch and watching the birds overhead.  In certain spots where the waves are a little less powerful we even had the chance to experience a bit of river boarding.  Using a bogie-board we paddled into the river wave and spent time surfing back and forth in a manner that is amazingly similar to the ocean sport.  Although once again if you make a mistake the wave will end your fun, due to the size of the feature it is most certainly less extreme an experience.  After our final rapid of the day we lugged the rafts out of the water and set up camp high up on a big bend in the river while the crew prepared our supper, and we blew the froth off a few very well deserved cold beers.

Day 2 started fairly leisurely as we allowed the river to fill up after a night’s electricity generation upstream.   So at around 10am we suited up and jumped into the water astride our bogie-boards to run the fast and suitably named “Hair of the Dog.”  This rapid is as close to a roller coaster as I imagine you can get with river rapids.  In single file we set off from the bank and steered into the jaws of the constricting river.  As I dropped into the depression at the entrance of the first wave I could see three paddlers who had left in front of me surfing up the exit of the wave and disappearing into the bowels of the second with frightening speed.  Before realising that it was my turn and there was no stopping to get off in this fairground.  As the speed increased and my helmet sunk lower over my eyes, it was a struggle to see where I was going so I tried to relax and let the river take me, in the hope that it would spit me out in the right place eventually.  After rounding the first (or possibly second) corner, our river guide appeared out of nowhere sitting in a small eddy and ordered me to kick hard to the right and back into the current.  Quickly adjusting my helmet and giving myself an injection of speed, I rapidly gained the correct line once more and disappeared under the final three subsequent waves.  Thankfully years of practice on a foam board in the waves of South Wales allowed me to keep hold of my board and on the surface of the water, but as I looked around quite a few of the others hadn’t been quite as fortunate.  In time we all managed to regroup and now wide awake, dragged ourselves back into our floating home to set off over the last four cataracts of our weekend.

The next rapid came and went in the blink of an eye and then after another lunch Huckleberry Finn would have been proud of, we came within the clutches of the infamous “Nile Special.”  Named after one of the strongest and arguably best tasting Ugandan beers; Nile Special is a World famous wave.  As the river plunges into the bowl it then rises steeply to give kayakers and rafters a ride they’ll not forget easily.  Typically the raft will burst through the first and often second consecutive waves as I’m reliably informed, before getting held in the third.  This lets all on board the chance to ride out the wave for as long as skill or the river allows.  This was no different for us.  As we launched into it we crashed through the first two wave crests and headed down the face of the third.  Sitting at the front of the raft I bore the brunt of the white water at the crest of the third wave, but unlike the last two we didn’t break through this one.  Instead the wave held us and spun us 180 degrees to face back up the river in the direction we had come.  Clearly this all happened within a split second, or in the “B of the Bang” as Linford Christie used to say.  While we sat in this position for what seemed an eternity, the entire might of this great and historic river roared beneath us.  Before we knew it though, the river lost its grip on our slippery little raft and we started descending the wave to the base of the depression.  As much fun as this was, by the time we reached the centre point we had started to turn ever so slightly so that the river was now hitting us broadside.  Once again, faster than my mind can clearly recall, the boat folded in half, flipped upside down depositing all of us into the drink and disappeared over the top of the wave.  My next memories are rather blurry to say the least, but by the time I re-emerged from the depths of the washing machine spin cycle, I had been carried 40m from the boat, was clutching two other paddles along with my own, and feeling as close to a drowned rat as I imagine possible.

Clearly for a lot of people this is the best possible way to end a rafting trip, a quick dunking to thank the river for its hospitality whilst going away with your adrenaline pumping and your respect for Mother Nature firmly intact.  Well this is pretty much how I felt when we trudged ashore after swimming down from the final rapid; “Mulalu,” – the Lugandan word for crazy.  Presumably given by the locals to the ‘Mulalu Mzungu’ who happily choose to spend their time and risk their lives tackling this spectacularly dangerous white water that they have lived beside for countless generations.  Yet as the sun quickly dried us and we open a few cold beers awaiting us on the river bank, those very same locals laughed and joked with/at us, I could see how infectious this pastime could become, and how maybe as my years pass I’m become more Mulalu after all.

Beaching Xmas

With thousands of miles under our belts on long dusty Ugandan roads each and every holiday we thought that the best way to say goodbye to 2013 was at the beach.  And it was without further ado that we booked our tickets down to the clear waters of Mombasa touching down just before Santa left the North Pole.  Thankfully the whole of the coast seemed unusually quiet for the Festive Period.  Whether it was the awful event that took place in Nairobi earlier in the year or a fall in favour of the Kenyan coast, but the fears I had of muscling past bronzed Germans and Italians to reach the see was unfounded.  In fact at the time we arrived and dropped our bags in our self-catered tree house the larger resorts along the shore appeared devoid of tourists.  Great for us, but not for the local market vendors who latched onto us in fresh abandon attempting to palm off the seasons carved produce and flowing Kikois.

After the bustle and smog of Kampala beside the land locked Lake Victoria, our tranquil tree house on Diani Beach set in the welcome embrace of a local Baobab tree became our home for ten days.  Offering us seclusion from the beach boys and tour guides each pestering us to the point of exhaustion and letting us relax and release the tension built up over the past few months.  During the day we were able to disappear to the beach to relax with a fresh coconut in hand and dive into the warm waters of the Indian Ocean.  While on our return to our tree we could prepare freshly caught prawns and local Cane Vodka cocktails as the sun disappeared into the Kenyan interior. 

Christmas Day gave us the opportunity to leave our little paradise and descend into the city of Mombasa.  Rather than the seedy dangerous city I’d been led to believe it was, the hugely diversity captured our imagination.  For nearly 500 years the small island of Mombasa has been home to Arabs from Oman, the Portuguese, native Kenyan tribes, Indians and the British.  In this time each proprietor has stamped their influence and culture onto the streets, buildings, industry and language.  The narrow alleyways are a mix of Indian timber structures with ornate Omani metalwork leading out to British colonial residences and clubs.  People pass by speaking in Swahili made up of a variety of word from across the Globe and with a genetic makeup more akin to the Souks of Arabia.  Whilst covering and encasing these passageways like a multi-coloured African Kanga, the sound of the call to prayer and the rich smells of the spice market hangs thickly. 

After visiting the Portuguese built Fort Jesus we treated ourselves to a fantastic view of the Old Town from the famous fish restaurant Tamarin on the North Shore, and celebrated Christmas lunch with fresh lobster, crab, prawns and red snapper.  Surrounded by our purchases and full to bursting, we clambered back into our taxi and headed south once more, ready to take on the golf, sunbathing and general relaxation anew.   Unfortunately and mainly to prevent us developing a shellfish allergy, our time on the coast came to an end.  Ten days of bliss spent snorkelling, eating, sleeping and enjoying everything else the coast had to offer had recharged the batteries.  And so a day after the fireworks and celebrations had welcomed in the New Year and all of its promise, we touched down once more at Entebbe Airport and fought through the traffic to our little cottage on Mutungo Hill ready for the next stage of The Adventure in 2014.

Greater Kampala

View of Murchison Bay

It’s a funny thing that I’ll be totally honest about; I really don’t put much effort or thought into understanding politics.  This might sound abhorrent to any Brits or Americans out there who religiously paint themselves red or blue every four years depending on their upbringing and social status.  However although the importance of freedom, equality and transparency has been drummed into me after living in a ‘single party democracy’ for the last three years, I still find it hard to get excited or passionate about frankly something I have very little control over personally.  Sure I could choose a side, paint a sign with a witty slogan and march around in my pyjamas but I suppose that’s where the passion comes into play.  However saying all this, sometimes in my job I get to sit in a more privileged position than most and get to see the workings of government in action.

Occasionally I have the chance to witness the slow moving cogs being oiled and set in motion as decisions are made that will affect the population five, ten, fifty years down the line and the passion starts to rise.  Although the majority of politics can be a bit of a snooze-fest, the development of infrastructure in anywhere in the World ignites my interest.  Therefore I’ve put together a list of up and coming projects that are in the pipeline of the decision makers of Uganda.  Projects that are planned for construction in the next twenty years to bring the country in line with its neighbours and other rapidly developing countries all for you to digest and maybe also get excited about.  The list is made up of projects currently in construction, those on the drawing board and other possible schemes that the writer thinks are important for Uganda in helping realise its dreams;

Kampala – Entebbe Expressway; this much needed route between the capital city and the only international airport in the country is currently under construction.  Work started in early 2013 and is expected to last four years.  At a cost of $476 million this will form one of the early Ugandan Public Private Partnership projects (in the wake of the Bujagali dam PPP project in Jinja) and will be run as a toll road earning the private sector revenue to offset the construction cost, before being handed over to the government to enhance their road-building coffers.

Approximate locations for the Expressway, Southern Bypass & Ngaali Bridge Schemes

Karuma Falls Dam; set in the backdrop of one of the largest National Parks in Uganda and on a stretch of the River Nile, this slightly controversial project is expected to generate a much needed 600MW of power for Uganda.  Due to its central location at one of only two current crossings of the Nile in the Pearl of Africa it is ideally located to send power to the under-developed North whilst also serving Kampala with even more important clean and natural power.  Now of course all hydro-electric schemes have their critics but the benefits for this particular scheme could be argued to outweigh the negatives on a stretch of river that is currently not used for tourism or local fisherman, but will hopefully bring them all benefits whilst also hopefully help open up the North to development and closer ties to the seat of government through greater inclusion.  The cost of the project is estimated at a total cost of $2 billion (including associated infrastructure) and my one hope is that the designers of the dam include a river crossing in their plans to allow for a decent highway into the North. 

Lunatic Express Upgrade; the metre gauge rail line between the Kenyan border and Pakwach to the North and Kampala/Kasase to the West is not too far from celebrating its centenary.  Built in the early twentieth century as an extension to the route from Mombasa, it has run its course and is rarely used anymore to carry passengers and freight.  With just 5-10% of all freight travelling from Mombasa to Kampala by rail an upgrade is drastically needed and is well timed to coincide with Kenya’s own upgrade project which broke ground in November 2013.  The upgrade to the once dubbed Lunatic Express within Uganda to a Standard Gauge modern railway has been split into two manageable chunks, which in order of development are the 250km Malaba-Kampala section and 500km Tororo-Pakwach section with spurs to Nimule near the South Sudanese border.  At the time of writing preliminary design work was on-going for both sections of the upgrade with work scheduled to be completed by the middle of 2018 at a joint Kenya-Uganda cost estimate of $13 Billion that will bring increased freight and possibly passenger services to the historic line allowing people to travel the 1,500km from Mombasa to the Congolese border at Goli in a fraction of the time it currently takes.

Kampala Flyover Project; the wheels are in motion on a more Kampala centred project that aims to reduce the journey times between the Clock Tower near the Entebbe Road and the Africana Hotel roundabout on Jinja road to just 5 minutes.  The Japanese International Cooperation Agency, who is currently heavily involved in the new Nile crossing at Jinja, has issued the final report of the preliminary design for improving the Kampala CBD congestion.  Alongside junction upgrades and new traffic management signals the proposal includes the creation of flyovers across certain sections of the current road network.  In line with KCCA transport infrastructure plans the scheme will cost somewhere in the region of $70 Million with construction starting in 2016 and taking two full years to complete.

Southern Kampala Bypass; starting at the end of the Easterly spur of the new Entebbe-Kampala Expressway at Munyonyo, the proposed Kampala Southern Bypass will complete the orbital beltway around the Greater Kampala Metropolitan area.  Although the exact route for the 18km bypass is yet to be determined, a large focus will be on minimising resettlement costs by potentially using existing highways.  One thing is certain though is that the bypass will go some way to freeing up the currently clogged arteries of South-Eastern Kampala and allow rapid movement between Jinja Road to the North and Entebbe to the South.  The estimated cost of the link road is approximately $250 Million.

Kampala – Jinja Expressway; plans are afoot to find the best method of improving this section of the Trans African Highway that has reached the end of its useful lifespan.  Unfortunately in hindsight maybe, the original Jinja Road was built through a portion of the very important Mabira Primary Forest.  Which means it is impossible from a conservational point of view, to expand the current road and therefore a new section has to be created to divert around the Southern edge of the forest.   At an estimated at $800 Million this new multi-lane highway will transport goods and people between the two important hubs in record time whilst hopefully allowing what remains of Mabira to rejuvenate to its former glory…unless the sugar companies have their way.  Work on the Kampala to Jinja Expressway is set to begin in 2015.

Murchison Bay Bridge; with the Southern Bypass set to be constructed along the shores from Munyonyo and the Kampala-Jinja Expressway heading south under the lovely Mabira Forest there seems to be a link that hasn't been considered; a connection to open up a new era of greater Kampala on the other side of Murchison Bay.  Okay, to be honest this is one of my concepts dreamt up one Friday evening with some fellow Engineers, but in order to truly become a 21^st Century city Kampala needs a signature structure.  And what better way to achieve this than a with signature bridge connecting ‘Old’ Kampala to a new highly organised and well planned future city on the Eastern shores of Murchison Bay.  “The Ngaali Bridge” will launch itself from the end of Ggaba Road beside the National Water compound and soar gracefully across the kilometre of water coming to rest on the opposite side of the bay with views of Port Bell to the North and Lake Victoria to the South.  At its western end it will be connected to the Southern Bypass, while in the East it will have a direct link to the Kampala-Jinja Expressway and upgraded Railway line, truly putting Kampala on the map.

Bukasa Port; with Port Bell up to capacity and future trade with Tanzania via Lake Victoria set to boom it has been suggested that a new port will be needed.  With its links to the growing satellite industrial area of Namanve outside Kampala and the future roads and rails schemes already mentioned Bukasa has been flagged as the key location.  An area of 500 hectares has been earmarked for development at an estimated cost of $180 million.  Once again critics of the project include local stakeholders who argue of their lack of involvement in the project whilst those in favour argue it is necessary to improve the lake trade and will benefit all Ugandans.  Personally I think the location within the already congested and polluted Murchison Bay is incorrect and should be pushed further along the coast away from the Greater Kampala area allowing for a regeneration of the Bay for the benefit of the inhabitants of the capital.

Kampala City Airport; in October 2013 the Uganda CAA showed its hand in their wish to construct a second international airport close to the city.  With the number of road, rail and shipping projects already covered in this article, their early consideration of a 300 hectare plot in the Namanve area makes a lot of sense.  The airport would supplement the existing Entebbe airport which itself is in the early stages of an expansion and is expected to cost between $100-150 Million for its first stages.  I suspect the airport will start its days as more of an East African hub in the same way London City airport supplements Heathrow and Gatwick in the UK as a Euro-centric airport in the heart of the capital.  However over time it may grow to help share the international load with Entebbe as airlines compete for better flight times.  A new airport will certainly be a very useful string to Uganda’s growing aviation industry and can only help in its vision in becoming an important and integral part of the East African community.  Now all we need are cheaper Intra-African flight prices to make the option of flying more affordable.

Ugandan Proverbs

On the 21st November I celebrated my 1,000 day in Uganda.  In tribute to this little milestone below are 30 Ugandan Proverbs for blog entry No.30.  They are taken from ‘The King of the Snakes’ a collection of Ugandan folklore and other stories as compiled by Mrs George Baskerville in 1922;

1. He who runs in the morning will tire before the day's march is over.

2. The monkey cannot be trusted to give a fair judgment on forest matters.

3. Do not call out for help before you need it.

4. He who has never had a sorrow cannot speak words of comfort.

5. Even a wise man does not know everything.

6. You can't dig with a spade handle, but it helps the spade to dig.

7. A dog knows his own business and his master's too.

8. Friendship is like a tailor's seam; it is the unpicking which causes trouble.

9. Splutter splutter isn't fire.

10. If you suffer in order to be beautiful don't blame anyone but yourself.

11. You never can tell if bananas are worth the trouble of making beer until you have done some of the work.

12. He who makes friends is wiser than he who quarrels.

13. Never give advice to an enemy.

14. Caution is not cowardice: even the ants march armed.

15. He who goes slowly goes far.

16. It is no good asking the spirits to help you run if you don't mean to sprint.

17. No man fears what he has seen grow.

18. He who says others are swindling will not lend you anything.

19. Beer isn't food: don't be content with it.

20. He who has two homes never gets a meal.

21. The champion who has thrown his opponent says: "That is enough."

22. You can't tell the age of a beardless man, or the time on a cloudy day.

23. What the herd will stand the cowherd will put up with.

24. Let me die for something worthwhile.

25. The grumbler does not leave his job, but he discourages possible applicants.

26. The iron fears the blacksmith.

27. A man who is always being slandered is like a knife constantly in use–no one has time to polish it.

28. Lazy people always set others to work.

29. Everyone has his own tastes.

30. Wait until you are grown up before you try to jump as far as your father.

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In other news follow the link below to the write up of the Banff Mountain Film Festival 2013 here in Uganda that was a great success;

http://www.banffcentre.org/blog/2013/11/29/the-world-tour-arrives-in-uganda/

Autumnal Adventures

With panto practices and schoolwork bearing down heavily on Hels and preparations for the Banff Mountain film festival here in Uganda keeping me busy it was with glad timings that John and Zoe arrived in Entebbe one early Friday morning.  Two of Helens friends from London couldn't have timed their trip better and we settled into the long weekend in front of us with a bottle of fizzy on the deck watching the sunset over the city.  Early the next morning, and with Stanley packed and ready to go we cruised out of Kampala heading West for the hills of Fort Portal and the Rwenzoris in the distance.  After being stuck in the City for so long it felt great to have the windows down and the wind cooling us down as the sun climbed ever higher and the heat started to rise.  Even though this is still technically as close to winter as Uganda sees the temperature under the midday sun was still intense.  After five hours we rolled to a stop at the stunning Ndali Lodge nestled amongst the crater lakes of Kibale Forest and shuck the dust from ourselves and dropped like stones into the pool overlooking those mountains separating Uganda and Congo.  Ndali is one of those places that you instantly feel at home in.  Centred around the old tea farm house of the current owners great uncle, walking into Ndali feels like arriving back at your parent’s house.  Everything is familiar somehow, you are made incredible welcome and the food is hard to beat.

After a great evening staring at the full moon and eating and drinking to our hearts content it was back onto the road in the morning as we made the short leap over the Equator to Queen Elizabeth National Park.  Although this is the second time Hels and I have been this way, it seems like we’re old hands at this route and before long we were checked into to our evening accommodation and staring at hippos and elephant from a boat with beer in hand.  Unfortunately due to their time restraints John & Zoe’s visit had to be pretty rushed but QE gives you a great chance to see a large number of Ugandas’ game in one place without having to face hundreds of other tourists or travel too far.  Unfortunately we didn't spot lion again as per our visit last year but our luck would change soon enough. 

Once again setting off again in the morning we turned right out of the park and headed South down to the Ishasha portion of the bigger Queen Elizabeth Park and in two hours had reached the gate to the much smaller realm of the famous tree climbing lions.  As we turned off the main road and started our way down the track to our camp, we were faced with a large muddy puddle strung across the road.  On our last visit to the At The River Camp, we had encountered the same puddles and Stanley had powered through them with ease.  Unfortunately after days of driving and with Helen and Zoe on the roof, I seemed to have lost all of my off-road driving knowledge and managed to get two of the wheels stuck as I attempted to pass to the left hand side of the water hazard.  Halfway through the depth of the mud increased and even with low range diff lock engage, the big green machine was stuck.  Without wanting to over stress the engine and gearbox I followed my training and rocked the wheels whilst reversing and accelerating forward to no avail.  It wasn’t until we had lined the path of the wheels with fallen branches did a local man finally appear and lend a much needed hand to proceedings.  And with a finally push Stanley was free enough to reverse back to the start and drive directly through the puddle…just as we had been instructed!

No the skills had been remembered the rest of the very muddy track was a breeze and within twenty minutes we were all in the camp pool with Nile Special Beers in hand and muddy faces.  It was at this point that a guide arrived back at the camp with news that he’s seen the infamous lions that had eluded us for the numerous times we’d hunted them last year.  Desperate not to miss them once again, we turned him around, threw on some t-shirts, packed some cold beers and hit the road once more.  As we entered the park, Helen and Zoe once again sort their elevated spotter positions on the roof as I crept along slowly through the park in search of the lions favourite Fig trees where they love to sleep away the hot hours of the day slung over the large branches.  A bumpy drive later we spotted four tails dangling down from the canopy of a wide canopy and were quickly joined in the cab by two rather hysterical women.  Presumably the park ranger had forgotten they were up there!

Once the sun had set over Congo just a stone’s throw from us across the Ishasha river, we headed back to the safety of the camp and crashed out to the sounds of the river flowing past our hut.  The next morning we were parting ways with John and Zoe as they headed down to the gorillas as we took the nine hour drive back to Kampala.  It had been a fantastic adventure through some of the best scenery that Uganda has to offer.  Unfortunately although we would have loved to have continued further south and retraced our tire tracks from last year’s adventure we had to get back to work.  I still haven’t had the chance to see the gorilla kings of the southern mountains.  That will have to wait for another day.

Highway Anarchy

I’ve discussed the trepidations of driving around East Africa in previous posts and the insane nature of that, but one thing that wasn’t really highlighted before was the lack of awareness not only of the drivers, but of the pedestrians.  Car growth is growing exponentially, and has risen from 5,000 cars in the 1950’s when the Queen opened the Owen Falls Dam to over 5 million today.  However the average Ugandan doesn’t have access to this type of transport and will walk to work, or to collect water or to visit his local bottle shop.  In the UK you are raised to respect the road and bred with the Highway Code running through your veins.  You may have learnt this from your parents, or maybe from an 80’s cartoon of a young hedgehog also learning the basics of where to cross and to look both ways.  Unfortunately the same can’t be said for East Africa which has a terrible record for road fatalities.  After narrowly avoiding adding to these statistics last Saturday it got me thinking.  As a driver it seems to be far too common for me to have to either swerve around a child running across the road at the last moment, or brake suddenly to allow a man to pass diagonally across a busy intersection. 

It’s not even that there isn’t the infrastructure available for the pedestrian.  Although there aren’t huge numbers of traffic lights with pedestrian features, or zebra crossings or even overpass bridges, these do exist but either aren’t trusted by pedestrians or not understood by the general populace.  As car usage increases more badly taught drivers take to the streets often without a single driving lesson and certainly with the mind-set that now they have a car they have afforded a more powerful position on the road and demand the respect of the pedestrian.  Clearly this shouldn’t be the case but this transport hierarchy is seen throughout with bicycles near the bottom of the pile, trucks towards the top and Presidential Convoys hanging over everyone. 

In the aviation industry early on you learn to respect certain different types of aircraft with those most vulnerable given the most protection from the other larger and faster machines.  This is also reflected on the water where horse power gives way to sail power, and yet it doesn’t appear to occur on the roads.  Once again in the UK there is a growing trend towards peddle power in the cities and countryside however respect for this transport decision is still hard to process for certain road users and once again this all comes down to education.  Each month in London I would hear of the horrendous death of a cyclist typically being struck by a truck or white van and more often than not I suspect that this was due not only to the driver of the motor vehicle but also the street smarts of the cyclist. 

I’ll be the first to admit that as a cyclist I would sometimes flout the laws and skip a red light now and again; however I would do so with total confidence that there was no danger.  When I was growing up in Derbyshire in the heart of the UK at the age of ten I was forced by my school to take a cycling proficiency course to ensure that I was aware of the road, other road users and the complicated system of lights and signs – in effect The Highway Code.  If I’m honest as a ten year old this was seriously uncool and boring, but something must have seeped in as this section of the UK driving test was a breeze and I passed first time with no issue.  I’m fairly sure that has to be something to do with an early insight and education of the rules of the road.

So what has all this have to do with a small boy from ‘the village’ in rural Uganda you ask.  Well I think that with an early grasp of the Highway Code and lessons not only in reading and writing, but also of how to use the highways and byways correctly, may lead to a better understanding, respect and discipline of all road users in later life.   It also may reduce the number of deaths from road usage around Africa and who knows; remove the arrogance of some car drivers higher up the political ladder.

I’m told that up until 2009 the British Highway Code also pertained to Uganda, however there is now a local version available written by the Ministry of Works and Transport.  Although as was well pointed out by my source at The Monitor “it is hard to believe this is intended for Uganda.  If it was, boda bodas carrying more than one passenger would have been history by now, not to mention those carrying small children on the petrol tank.”

Bamboo Commuter

For some time now I’ve been interested in bikes and cycling.  Watching the Tour de France started as a nine year old in my French Teacher Mr Salt’s class in primary school.  When July came around and the exams had finished, Le Tricolour with its stories of life in La Rochelle, would be mentally thrown out of the open windows and the big TV would be rolled in to replace it.  Salty would pop in the highlight real from the previous day’s action on the country roads of France and I’d stare at the terrific speed of their descents in the Alps.  Once term had finished my brother and I would oil our heavy mountain bike chains and head off into the Peak District hills and try to emulate the same exploits we’d seen on screen.  Often flying passed motorists and across junctions with no care for personal safety.  When I reached London at 25 I purchased my first road bike and once I’d mastered staying vertical on it I fell in love with climbing the famous Cols and mountains of the Pyrenees.

Unfortunately when I reached Africa my trusty Trek stayed back in my London flat but the passion has not dimmed and thanks to South African Satellite TV I was able to watch Bradley and Chris win the 99^th and 100^th Tours respectively from my little African cottage.  Africa may not have many representatives in Le Tour, however as you drive down the roads it appears to have a deep reliance of cycling.  Wherever you go it’s impossible not to spot men pushing all manner of items around on the back of their steel bicycles.  Or children riding bikes often twice the size of them at unimaginable speeds weaving between cattle and cars on their way to school.  Africa is also home to some of the most imaginative and entrepreneurial people I’ve met, which is why when I heard about a locally made bike crafted from home grown bamboo and bark-cloth I had to investigate.

After some detective work on rather sketchy internet sites and endless journeys into the hectic and labyrinth like parts of the seven hills of Old Kampala, I finally tracked down a man named Mr Malamata at a place called the Entrepreneurs Institute of Technology.  The following Saturday I printed off a map and made my way over there pulling up on a quiet street alongside a roadside stall selling what seemed to be just three avocados and a live chicken.  Stepping over a trampled down fence I stumbled into a small compound filled with local Heath Robinson style hydroponics, local beetroot wine production and a small internet café.  There appeared to be no one in sight but I knew I’d found the right place as above a door into what appeared to be a workshop was an ancient French sign depicting the Michelin Man riding a bicycle.  After much searching I finally came upon a lady sitting on an old and very decrepit running machine who informed me Mr Charles was out looking for bamboo, which sounded promising and gave me his number.  I organised a follow up meeting for the Monday whilst threading my way back to the car.

The next day I did a little extra research on Bamboo Bikes and found an interesting link between ‘Mr Charles’ and Craig Calfee; the Carol Shelby of bike design.  It appeared that back in the mid-90’s Calfee travelled to Africa and noted that there was a market for locally made, locally sourced bikes.  He took it upon himself to set up this venture with Mr Malamata promising to import a large number to the US, where thanks to the growing interest in Carbon Neutral living, he started selling them for $3,000 apiece.  I therefore approached the workshop the following day nervous for my wallet.

Monday arrived I found myself back amongst the mind of a widely creative man as he explained the process and stages of building a bamboo frame.  “First of-f all” he told me “we tack the pieces together to check the dimensions.  Then we are lapping the connections in epoxy soaked bark croth, and final-ly comes the shaping stage.”  At this point the hardened bark cloth (Ugandan specialty) is hand shaped through sanding, to a smooth and aerodynamic shape.  Whereupon the first coat of resin is sprayed on the whole frame to protect it from termites and weather.  As the resin dries the bark cloth takes on the appearance of polished walnut and gives the frame the most magnificent appearance.  More like a piece of carefully crafted furniture than a commuter’s tool.  All this work takes the builder – who is also a keen cyclist – just a week, and before I knew it I had the finished article in my hands ready to be fitted out with the other essentials.  And so after seven days wait and only $350 lighter I stumbled out of the hidden entrance to the Aladdin’s cave grasping my new bamboo bicycle frame to my chest like a new born baby and carefully strapped it into the backseat of the Land Rover, unsure whether I was going to add wheels or hang it on my wall.