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.

Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines

As they did back in March, Rob and Emma invited us up in Rob’s plane for another weekend away.  This time we selected Chobe in the East of Murchison Falls Park as the destination for a short celebratory trip for Rob and Helen’s birthdays.  We arrived at Kajjansi Airstrip on Saturday morning just in time for a swift cup of tea and an egg sandwich before I jumped into the ‘1^st officers’ seat and plugged my headset into the radio.  After the Ugandan Civil Aviation Authority failed their International Licence check back in 2012 I was stopped from continuing my lessons so they could plaster over the cracks.  After a nine month wait, my student pilot’s licence along with my written exams expired and with them my passion for flying seemed to fade.  Getting back into the air though it all seemed to start coming back.  After take-off we slowly ascended over the hills of Kampala and reaching our cruising altitude we were able to see the Kampala-Entebbe Expressway under construction below us.  This is set to be the first ‘real’ road in Uganda and so marks a big step in the transition from its perceived simple 3^rd World country towards the rapidly growing modernised society it is becoming.

As we flew north I took control from Captain Rob and steered us over the plains and villages below.  After less than an hour in the air we had reached the park boundary and crossing the now silvery Nile River the dirt airstrip came into view below us peeping out from amongst the trees.  A carefully corrected final approach later and we were down on the hard orange deck and taxing past the on looking giraffe in search of a safe – animal friendly – place to park for the night.  Usually the same trip in Stanley The Landy would take us across the Karuma Falls but last 4 hot hours.  On this occasion the falls, which are scheduled to be dammed soon in search of electricity, had to be avoided for security reasons, and the journey had taken just over 45 minutes.

Piling out of the plane we set up camp in our private and very large static tents overlooking the Nile.  As the sun blazed is path across the large African sky we relaxed by the pool with well-earned ice cold beers (pombe baridi) and African Gin (warragi), carefully soaking up some rays and watching the Hippos wallowing in the adjacent river.  Sunday being the day of rest followed a fairly similar pattern and a massage (me) and manicure (Hel’s) later we were ready for our departure.  However weather being what it is lunch had to be extended.  So with a full stomach we sat and waited for the huge storm cloud (cumulonimbus) to pass before once again jumping into the little plane. Once those pesky giraffe had been removed from the runway and with the all clear from the baboons, we climbed out from Chobe into the rain leaden sky and made our way southwards towards the hustle and bustle of Kampala.  As Hemmingay found out, albeit painfully, flying is definitely the best way to see the African continent and maybe the passion for my to complete my license is back.

Easter Update

After the lengthy essay about my exploits up Mt Stanley in March-April, the creative juices – along my toe nails – seemed to drop off.  With legs resting over the following weekends and a wedding in Italy, life in Uganda slowed to a snail’s pace as work took over and Stanley took his own ‘holiday’ with the mechanics, thanks to a broken timing belt tensioner bolt and associated problems.

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Although I alighted to similarities between Derbyshire and the remote Rwenzoris aside from the obvious a lot of the small things are just different in Uganda.  In the UK April into May typically heralds the end of winter and the start of summer.  The time of year when the windows are thrown open, the spring clean is carried out and the ladies start to appear in shorter and shorter skirts.  In comparison when we arrived in Uganda thanks to the fabulous year round climate we opened the windows on the first day and have never closed them.  While with regards to Uganda’s difference to the streets of Newcastle, if certain parties within the national government get their way the short skirt may be outlawed from Uganda.  In April reports, Politian’s close to the church called for an end to the much loved mini-skirt claiming that it insights violent attacks and would become illegal under the new anti-pornography bill.  Obviously this caused uproar among young Ugandan’s and in recent weeks the bill appears to have rolled off the front page as a result.  In fact it was almost lost altogether after the two largest national newspapers were shut down for nearly two weeks for printing sensitive material.  If only we could do the same with Max Clifford back in the UK!

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Spring in the traditional sense is all about change and in our Mutungo urban-shabby-chic-cottage this month we can certainly side with that.  After lots of side tracked weekends and travels around the country, with Stanley out of action we finally had time to get the timber deck constructed in the front garden allowing us to make use of eating breakfast outdoors and giving us twice the living area.  To Maggie’s initial despair the deck was not the only new introduction though.  As towards the end of May we took possession of two young pigs that were destined for an early death at the local slaughterhouse.  Although I’m happy to say that the lives of Sir Henry Bacon and Prince Fredrick von Sausage have been extended, it won’t be for long as they are feeding well and destined for the dinner table in the run up to Christmas.  Watch this space.

Up Margarita in Two V-Neck Jumpers

We arrived in Kilembe at the foot of the Rwenzori Mountains after a 7 hour drive from Kampala, with eight days of walking ahead of us, and I’d never felt so unprepared in my life.  As I watched the others stuffing their mountain gear into their rucksacks and filling their Camelbac’s with water, I thought about my preparation.  Shopping had taken place the week before at South Africa’s equivalent of Woolworths (the UK’s largest sweet shop) and as far as warm clothes were concerned, two V-neck jumpers and a ski-jacket would have to do the job of more specific mountain equipment!  Also when looking through my pack at the trail head I realised that I’d left behind my ski gloves borrowed from a friend, but with a quick search of the car I came up with a pair of slightly oil stained gardening gloves…little did I know these would turn out to be the perfect item for this climb.  Lacking mountain boots to strap my crampons to (not the kind of item to find in Kampala, especially in a size 12) I packed a size eleven rental pair into my pack and we started off headed to the UWA rangers post and start of the National Park.

Day 1; As we set off in the rain Kilembe dropped away quickly below and before long we were past Francis at the Rangers hut and into the UNESCO World Heritage Site forging our way through the tropical forest zone.  In the distance we could hear birds and Blue Monkeys while the guides stopped to show us Chameleons and other plants and insects.  The rain thankfully eased off by lunchtime and I was able to strip down to shorts and t-shirt for the remainder of the hot and humid day.  As we climbed higher the forest started to change with ferns becoming prevalent and the first signs of the bamboo zone that exists above 2,500m came into to view.  After a short steep section we made it to the first camp safely and bedded down for the night at 2,580m with 10km covered and a rise in altitude of 1,100m.

Day 2; Today started at the highly civilised hour of nine o’clock as we gorged ourselves on porridge and eggs prepared by the porters.  After breakfast we set off on the trail again with another long and steep climb ahead – 1,100m in 9km.  As soon as we had started we entered the bamboo zone that we had caught a glimpse of the day before.  The tropical woodland seemed to finish just as the impossibly tall grasses took over and the golden bamboo leaves littered the trail floor.  Shorts and t-shirts were still the order of the day as the temperature hadn’t changed as much as the scenery.  We were soon sweating as we clambered up the steep slopes to the first rest point 550m above our overnight camp at just over 3,000m.  At this altitude we had left the bamboo behind and this gave us our first view down to the plains below with Lake George shining in the distance and the savannah of Queen Elizabeth to the West just visible.  This also marked out the point of the change of footwear.  I’d been warmed about this section and advised to buy a good pair of Welly Boots, and sure enough as soon as lunch had been devoured we were up to our ankles in thick black mud.  This lasted all afternoon as we pushed through these small swampy depressions and clambered over sodden tree trunks surrounded all the time by towering Giant Lobelia trees.  This was also the point at which the waves of mist and fog started to pass through our group and helped drop the temperature forcing me to stop and don the first V-neck of the trip, to the amusement of the rest of the group.  Thankfully despite the mist the rain held off and we made it to Camp 2 (3,688m) under the inviting yet scary overhanging rock of Mutinda Peaks.  A fire was kindly built at one end of the overhang and this allowed us to warm up our cold feet and dry out any socks that hadn’t survived the water overtopping the boots as we waded through the swamps.

Day 3; A long nights sleep was grateful after the cold evening huddled around the fire sipping hot chocolate.  This is the first time I had felt properly cold (except the effects of Malaria) since I left the UK in February 2011.  After another full breakfast of porridge followed with more eggs we set off again.  This time it was certainly a day for the Wellies, for as soon as we left the camp we were up to our knees in mud trying to climb up to the next swampy plateau.   Hopping from tussock to tussock and rock to rock we made our over the ridge and started through the boggy swamp in our first taste of the Heather Zone of the Mountains of the Moon. 

It seems a life growing up in Derbyshire had set me up for this trip perfectly as this section distinctly reminded me of the top of Kinder Scout and its peat bogs.  While the days before certainly had similar memories of days running through the woods around home or after escaping from Prep School into the wilds of the Northern Peak District.  I could only hope that there was a warm pub with a log fire and pints of best bitter on tap…might have be dreaming there!  Obviously the altitude prevents the more active movements when slopping through the mud, but thankfully as we pushed close to 4,000m I hadn’t felt too many problems.  In general up to the 4k point my head felt okay, but there was certainly some slowness in my progress and shortness of breath that I had experienced briefly in the Simien Mountains at Christmas.  The days trek was the shortest on the trip and I had reached camp four within three hours of setting off.  Camp four I was warned was the point of no return.  It was explained to me that if you felt ill or sick in any way, not to try and attempt to push on as the terrain became much harder forcing a difficult ‘retreat’ back to the only rescue point by helicopter in the Park.  At 4,062m this was the highest point I could remember being, but the view of the heli-pad made some fairly dark thoughts come into my head.  As the Rwenzori’s are so isolated, it something goes wrong up in the high altitude points, you are at least two days from helicopter extraction.  After a warm and hearty soup and some hot supper though the thoughts had subsided and I curled up into my sleeping bag with a quick shot of Irish Whiskey to help me sleep and thoughts of summit day in my mind.

Day 4; A fairly rough night behind me listening to the rain on canvas and noises of people struggling with the cold and altitude, we set off as usual in Wellies.  The tweed cap had been replaced with a warmer woolly hat as we trudged through the fresh morning mud which had a dusting of snow on the surface.  The days climb started at the base of the climb to Weismann’s Peak, and wound around up past the interesting McConnell’s Prong; a lone tower of rock standing vertical and pointing to the sky like a Rhino’s horn.  We picked our way cautiously past more Lobelia and under rushing waterfalls; trying not to fill our boots with the ice cold water and after about an hour we had separated into the two groups that the altitude’s problems had produced in our team.  As I felt fewer issues I found myself in the front group with Dave in the second as he struggled with a headache and queasy feeling.  A little while later, we finally crested the final ridge and reached the highest point of the day and a new high point for my record book as we set foot at the top of Bamwanjara Pass (4,450m).  This gave us our first partially obscured view of the proper mountains ahead of us and what was to come.  Pausing briefly for a quick photo, we started on the steep descent into the warmer valley below that seemed to have been spared the snow overnight.  The next 500m drop through moss covered trees and thick mud was again taken with caution as it was fairly torturous, but the gardening gloves came into their own allowing me to swing from tree to tree like the chimps that could be heard occasionally, without the worry of thorns or splinters interrupting my progress.  Once the valley bottom had been reached we stopped briefly for a potato based lunch which was well received, before pressing on into the ever deepening mud, giving me a good idea what life in the Somme must have been like for those soldiers nearly a hundred years ago.  With the mud rushing up to the top of my boots if I missed a footing the mist in the valley cleared briefly prior to the start of our final climb to the night’s camp.  As we stopped the clouds parted like someone pulling open a set of curtains, allowing us our first view of the majestic Mt Stanley ahead which seemed to tower above us.  35 minutes later we reached Camp 5 at 3,960m and bathed in the late afternoon sunshine and taking in the views of Mt Baker and it’s glacier to the East and the backside of Mt Stanley that had teased us earlier in the afternoon straight ahead.

Day 5; The last day before the summit started a little later than usual for today was just a short section.  As we left the camp and made our way around the Kitandara Lakes we caught our first glimpse of other life on the mountains passing by the Rwenzori Mountaineering Services camp on the edge of the second lake.  The RMS is the original trekking company but of recent has fallen into some disrepair along with their camps.  They follow the original Central Circuit which joins the RTS circuit at the lakes and their camp fire could be seen smoking as we came into their clearing but they were nowhere to be seen.  After their camp we skirted the second lake and started up the final climb of the day to the crest of Scott Elliot Pass (4,372m).  This was the first time since day 2 that we were able to leave the mud and our Wellies as we finally made it into the Rocky Zone.  Reaching the Col of the Pass we caught our first sight of Mt Speke – named after John Hemming Speke, the first white man to spot Lake Victoria – to the East and the RTS camp at its base, though thankfully we weren’t descending there on this occasion.  A short scramble later brought us to the final camp and launch point for the summit; Margarita Camp (4,450m).  The summit camp sits at the base of the Elena Glacier which has long since retreated back up the mountain but was clearly visible some 200m above us.  After organising our equipment for the following morning’s assault and with a belly full of sardines and noodles, we climbed into our sleeping bags and tried to get as much rest as possible.

Day 6; Due to the high altitude I was expecting a fairly restless night, however aside from a few moments of breathlessness the night passed fairly uneventfully and I actually achieved a pretty good sleep.  However awaking at 3am my appetite certainly wouldn’t let me swallow much of the scrambled eggs on offer.  As we slept, the snow started to fall around us so that as we ventured out of our warm(ish) cabin there was an inch of fresh powder covering the rocky landscape.  It might sound exciting to see snow at the Equator, and very few Ugandan’s believe it exists, but I was already pretty fearful of what the next 12 hours would bring, so the thought of slippery cold rocks didn’t help.  After a warm cup of tea, we set off into the dark with head torches glinting off the wet rocks and illuminating the snow around us.  The first hour went quickly as we made slow careful progress up with the full moon trying to break through the clouds overhead.  Just as my fears were subsiding though we reached the first of a set of technical challenges; two steep fix rope climbs with a ten meter traverse between them.  Thankfully the ropes seemed new but the ice on them prevented easy movement as I climbed up into the dark with feet resting precariously on the stones around me and the gardening gloves took a soaking in the snow.  As the night passed by and as we climbed higher the glow of the Hima cement plant came into view on the plains 3,500m below us, and shortly after we reached the snowline of Stanley Plateau.  Stopping to attach my crampons onto my small rental shoes, the sun started to rise in the East.  In Africa the sun seems to spring up into the sky like a child jumping out of bed on Christmas morning, but at 5,000m it was with us in no time helping melt away my demons by giving me a good view of the remainder of the climb.  With head torches packed away and ice-axes strapped to our wrists, my first contact with fresh powder in four years started and what a place to break my drought.  Stanley Plateau isn’t the steepest section of the climb by any means, and in fact was a great introduction to glacier work especially as we followed in the footsteps of the RMS group who had been here the day before.  With the sun higher in the sky and the snow clouds descending again we passed the base of the Albertine Peak and made it safely across in little over 20 minutes and started the steep descent down to the base of the next glacier.  The drop down another fixed line took some time thanks to the frozen rope but eventually we were all assembled at the base of the 60⁰ Margerita Glacier and with ice-axes back out of packs, set off in the final climb to the summit.  This section certainly tested our fitness and numerous breaks were necessary to catch our breath as we inched up the ice with the edge of our crampons just clinging to the surface.  Just as my motivation and energy reserves were waning the guide shifted direction and the rocks that composed the summit appeared out of the mist off to the right of us.  Carefully yet thankfully we dropped our ice-axes into a snow drift at its base and started up the final pitch towards our goal.  After twenty minutes and fuelled purely from excitement I crested the final rise and found myself face to face with the summit sign and, had it been clear, a 360 degree view of Central Africa.  I was at Africa’s third highest peak and arguably one of the toughest. It had taken us just under 6 hours to reach this point from the base camp but now here we stood 5,109 hard fought, mud soaked meters above sea level.  As we rested awaiting the rest of the group the clouds parted overhead and we were treated briefly to a patch of blue sky prior to starting off on the long descent. 

A descent is typically faster but also more dangerous than the assent, and this was certainly true with ours.  As the sun started to beat down on the mountain the ice of the glacier seemed to change colour and the crevasses that had either been covered or obscured by the mist and snow were far more evident.  My feet were starting to hurt in the small rental boots by now which was made that much more painful with the short sharp downhill steps in the crampons. However the chocolate from my pack was helping with my energy levels and so it wasn’t long before we made it back to the end of the first snowfield and could remove our crampons for good.  The rain started up once again as we clambered down the slipper moss covered rocks to basecamp, but now clearly an expert at the ropes we were back in the warmth of the hut within 4 hours of leaving the summit.  Clearly not a climb for the record books but now I was back with a hot cup of tea and some food I couldn’t care less.  We’d summited in difficult conditions and survived without any issues.  Once the others reached us and we’d packed away our gear we set off once again targeting Hunwick’s Camp for our nights rest.  After another few kilometers, and as the sun was starting to set we finally had the chance to swallow some proper food 15 hours after we had set off in the morning.

Day 7&8; Rather than go into too much detail about the route back down the mountain let’s just say it all passed in a blur.  With each meter of altitude lost our speed seemed to increase and with every footstep our final destination got closer.  After painful reaching the top of the Bamwanjara Pass again my feet were struggling to hold back a run as we covered the ground quickly on the 7^th day, while throughout the 8^th Dave and I practical fell over each other to be the first to reach Kilembe.  The eighth and final day of the trek saw us cover the last 19km and descend 2,500m in just five and a half hours pulling up briefly at the UWA’s office to sign out and explain our surprise that we had met just a single other person in all that time within the park.  Leaving the rangers hut the heavens opened for a final time.  The King of the Mountains had welcomed us to the Mountains of the Moon with rain and it was in this same spirit that he was bidding us farewell.

Ollie climbed with the superb guidance of the people at Rwenzori Trekking Services and covered 86km in the 8 days trek, with a total change in altitude of little under 7,500m.

Return to the Northern Badlands

After our first trip up to Kidepo National Park at the far northern extremity of Uganda, we had always wowed to return.  Only this time it had been my wish to do so with me flying.  Unfortunately the steps towards my pilots licence had stalled (mind the pun) even before the first trip thanks to some terrible aviation bureaucracy within the Ugandan Civil Aviation Authority.  At the end of February however Emma and Rob; friends from the sailing club, threw us a lifeline and offered to take us up in Rob’s plane, with me doing the majority of the air work.   And so on a Friday afternoon Helen and I left work early, headed down to Kajjansi airstrip.

Feeling like a 1940’s movie star climbing into a biplane at the start of a fabulous hunting trip into the African interior, we loaded our overnight bags into the back of the Cessna 210 and clambered into our seats.  Helen looked every bit the part with her sunglasses on, hair blowing in the breeze and a sick bag at hand just in case.  Taking off we initially headed North crossing Kampala before adjusting our course just a touch to head over Lake Kyoga.   The lake is shown as more of a marsh in most of the old aviation charts but it is actually one of the largest lake complexes in East Africa and yet its deepest point is only just shy of six metres.   Once over the lake and into Northern Uganda it wasn’t long before the large isolated hillocks of Karamoja became visible through the fog of hundreds of small wildfires below.  These amazing giant hills sit up from the flat savannah like giant crumbling castles on a sandy beach.  Between the hills though nestle inaccessible villages so one could be forgiven for thinking that these hills are the remains of large fortified towns from a bygone era, reminiscent of Tolkien’s stories.  

Our first brief stop was the airstrip of Kalongo which sat in the shadow of its own hill fortress.  As we glided down the town became more visible, along with streams of multi-coloured children pouring out of the huts and schools descending on the airfield.  Thanks to the proximity of the airstrip the final approach had us skimming what felt like inches above the on looking heads before we touched down on the murram ‘bush-strip.’  By the time we had turned the aircraft and taxied back to our take-off point, the crowd had grown immensely and it was through this crowd Emma appeared.  Herself also looking like a celebrity, but more accurately one on a Comic Relief trip.  Making her way over to the plane she clambered in and without shutting off the engine, we pushed the throttle forward and were airborne once more headed for the distant hills of Kidepo.

The remainder of the flight was fairly uneventful, but gave us the chance to appreciate the road that had brought us all this way last year.  As we flew above we watched it winding and climbing up through the mountains that defensively surround Kidepo, before dropping steeply into the valley below.  Like the road this was also our queue to pull back the throttle and glide gently to the valley floor in search of the runway.  With a short approach we were down with some expert piloting, if I do say so myself, and George; Apoka lodge’s manager was on hand to collect our belongings and ferry us to the lodge in the heart of this magnificent park. 

Staying at Apoka was yet another treat thanks to some good negotiations by Rob, made that much sweeter when we discovered we were the only guests for the weekend.  Given the isolation of the lodge we weren’t too surprised at this, what was unexpected considering our last visit was that we were the only guests in the entire 1,400km² park.   Even the biggest celebrity would be hard pushed to be able to swing that kind of seclusion.  A circumstance which made the early morning games drives even more special.  When we sat and watched a male and female lion courting, or a lone female cheetah relaxing under an Acacia tree, we did so in silence and privacy without radios buzzing or other engines idling towards us.  Priceless. 

One of the highlights of our private game park experience however came during the early evening game drive.  For once and with no one around we were able to leave the cars and clamber on foot up a prominent rock that gave us a perfect 360 degree vista of the valley.  What capped this moment off though was the cold gin and tonic that had ascended with us in the cool box.  Making for perfect sun-downers as the sun dropped away over the herds of buffalo and elephant in the distance. 

Unfortunately all good things come to an end and so late on Sunday we packed up the aeroplane and headed South in search of the bright lights of Kampala and our 21^st Century African experience.  Leaving the wonders of Kidepo behind us it felt a shame that we may not experience such upmarket isolation again, but you’d be hard pushed to stop us trying to reach the National Park one last time before we leave.  How we reach it next time is another matter though.

A Long Stroll to Freedom

Before moving to Uganda and living in London I considered myself a walker.  Not a woolly hated cagoule wearing rambler like you find in the British countryside, but one who wouldn’t mind if the bus broke down and he was forced onto the pavement .  Someone who’d prefer to walk home from the pub in the cold winter nights, than wave down a black cab and steal a lift in the relative warmth.  In London, however there are pavements and traffic lights and there definitely wasn’t the staring.

Just before Christmas I finally got organised and signed myself up to trek in the Rwenzori Mountains.  Even before I arrived in Africa I had spotted the potential to break my mountaineering duck and tick off a five thousand meter peak during our stay.  However Easter 2013 presented me with a time window, so the deposit was paid and the race to get fit started.  Unless you are Decathlete, wear a moustache and have a name that rhymes with Haley Sompson, Christmas isn’t usually a time for training.  Christmas in the Ethiopian foothills however could maybe classed as my precursor to the Mountains of the Moon.  At 3,200m they certainly weren’t to be sniffed at and I feel that by living at 1,200m in Kampala, my body is partially prepared for the altitude.

So as it’s very difficult to train any harder for the altitude I think that’s one box ticked.  The second however is more strenuous; plenty of miles under the belt and as many hills as possible.  Thankfully Kampala, well at least the original city, is a capital of seven hills that are certainly far more imposing than Rome’s and this gave me an idea.  As I touched on above, walking in Kampala is an interesting and sometimes hairy affair.  With very few safe stretches of asphalt and far too much traffic on the main roads even driving a car can be dangerous.  Plus the sight of a Muzungu strolling along the road can bring you no end of innocent yet invasive stares which make an Englishman rather uncomfortable…introduce a pet dog into the equation and you can forget the idea of a nice Sunday stroll.  Therefore back roads are your best friend and with a trawl of an old city map and more modern search engines I drew up a 12km circuit and called up some friends to join our inaugural Kampala Ramblers Associational [that doesn't exist!] wander.

We all met up in a local shopping centre car park early on a Sunday and with Maggie leading the way set off up and down the largest two hills of Kampala.  Sticking to the back roads proved fairly easy and was certainly a welcome relief to the inquisitive locals and SIP’s (Self Important People) trying to run us over with their hazard lights blinking away in an un-designed role.  After an hour Naguru Hill at 4,310ft had been conquered and we set off in search of Kololo (4,280ft).  At this point the sun had started to beat down fiercely on us as if to exact some punishment for discovering a way of avoiding the urban motorways and its erratic operators.  However with a backpack full of water, sun cream and doggy treats we pushed on relentlessly and with minutes to the summit passed the North Korean Embassy.  A few inquisitive stares of our own through the open gate followed as we glimpsed the shiny and frankly rather anti-communist Mercedes’s in the driveway.  But we couldn’t hang around and after rounding ‘Fascist Corner’ (home to the Italian, German and Austrian Embassies) we summited with Maggie weaving across the road in search of shade, tail between her legs.  Not bad for starters, plenty more to come before Easter but hopefully all as refreshingly enjoyable as this.