Uganda is a land of comparisons, for even though it straddles the Equator, in the South it has lush tropical rainforest while in the North it is harsh dry savannah that rules supreme. The South is also generally considered to be more developed and certainly better off than the North, which is slowly recovering from the last 25 years of war and isolation. Which is why, this Easter weekend, we decided to pack up Stanley the Landy with our camping gear, and with sunrise on Easter Friday we found ourselves heading north along the road to Murchison Falls. Within four hours we had reached the first milestone on the trip; Karuma Falls. This cataract of the White Nile is a stretch of highly aggressive and turbulent white water which would breed fear into the hardest Kiwi rafter, and marks the demarcation between the South and North of the country, so with excitement and some trepidation we crossed the short bridge and continued on. For the next hour or so, the road continued as we had left it in the South; good tarmac, however as we approached Gulu, the change became apparent and gave us an indication of just how forgotten this portion of the country has been, for so long.
Gulu, the unofficial capital of Northern
Uganda, is described by most journalists in their individual books and articles,
as a bit of a one horse town with dusty roads and just one bar restaurant; the
Ancholi Inn, where a mix of NGO aid workers, hardy backpackers and Ugandan
Generals can be found sipping on their favourite tipple. However things seem to have moved on in the
last few years, as when we arrived, I was surprised to see new hotels, cafes
and even a chain supermarket had risen out of the dust which rests thickly on
the potholed roads. It appeared that
change was in the air and things weren’t as grim up North as the scaremongers
were indicating. Gulu was however just a
short stop on our drive, and within the hour we were back on the road, only
this time the tar had once and for all given way to corrugated and rutted
murram dirt, and to make matters worse the heavens had opened and were
transforming the road into a full blooded river in front of our eyes. After some twists and turns though, and a
good three hours, we finally rolled into Kitgum just 50km from the South
Sudanese border and faced with another 139km, on ever worsening roads, with
fading daylight, in an area that had been just a decade ago the stronghold of Joseph
Konys’ Lord’s Resistance Army and is now still very much the land of the
infamous Karamojong tribe;
It is thought the Karamojong came down from
Ethiopia and split in two to become the famous Maasai; found in the National
Parks of Tanzania (and the beaches of Zanzibar!) and the Karamojong of North
Uganda and Southern Sudan. Like the Maasai,
this warrior tribe to this day refuse to give up their old traditions under the
pressures of modern global society and instead retain their heritage and
traditions…especially cattle rusting. As
they consider all cattle to be theirs by divine grant, their neighbours have
been for centuries on the receiving end of their raids and with the
introduction of the AK-47 into the region these raids have become ever more violent,
which is why, with very little discussion, we rolled into a small hotel, and
for the equivalent of £5 per person, climbed under our mosquito nets for a good
night’s rest.
Early the next day we set off on the last
leg of the journey, and soon enough we were picking our way through the
mountains and around the cattle herds that separated us from our
destination. The majority of the final
section was on good dirt roads but the last 80km would challenge any 4x4, with
large rocky sections, deep furrows and rain eroded sections, all slung magnificently
beneath the high rocks that enclosed us from either side. After checking the British Foreign Office
website we could be forgiven for keeping one eye on the road and one eye on the
surrounding hills, however thankfully the drive was uneventful, mainly as it
was dry, so within four hours we were through the worst of it and within
touching distance of our goal. For
anyone that goes to Kidepo by plane – which is over 90% – I can safely say that
they are missing out on one aspect the National Park has to offer, because as
we passed through the final trading post before the Park, we were greeted with
a view down onto, and across the whole valley out as far as the Kenyan and Sudanese
borders, that caused a tingle to run down my spine and spread into a wide smile
across my face, as realisation dawned that the long and treacherous drive was
over, and had been more than worth it.
The National Park has 1450 sq.km of
untouched savannah with zebra, ostrich, thousands of bird species and was once home
to all of Africa’s big five. However
during the early 80’s, when Uganda was recovering from its latest and most
infamous dictator, the black rhino and giraffe were hunted to extinction by
bandits from North of the border and the local tribes. There is good news however, because now,
after a period of relative stability, giraffe are back up to 48 in number (not
many but it’s a start) and there is a plan in place to reintroduce the rhino
with the help and support of the Ziwa Rhino Centre near Kampala. The animals that did survive this terrible
cull however certainly make up for the temporary loss, and as we pitched camp
and made some lunch, we were welcome to the sight of three buffalo and a lone
male elephant; familiarly named Bull-Bull, roaming through the camp in search
of pineapple apparently. However this
was to be just the start of our wildlife luck, for during the following morning
as we drove around the park we spotted the majority of the ‘advertised’ animals
including some endemic to this park, and herds of buffalo numbering
thousands. The cherry on the top however
came towards the end of the first drive. After briefly spotting a female lion
in some thick bush, we were whisked away to the main road and as we rolled to a
stop and clambered onto the roof rack, we were amazed to sit and watch three
fully grown male lions chomping their way through an unlucky buffalo they’d
caught the previous evening.
The FCO, British High Commission and
numerous NGO’s still list Kidepo as a dangerous location, and all prevent their
staff from driving there, however from our trip and many people I’ve met I can
certainly say that the road from Kitgum is open, if a little difficult, and the
reward for making the journey outweighs any worries tenfold. A caveat to the reader though, take a map,
try to travel with two vehicles and don’t travel in the dark. Otherwise get yourself to Kidepo before the
Karamojong become as familiar with tourists as the Maasi in TZ, and before the
park loses its Shangri-La feeling.
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