Oh where do I begin? Let's start a few months back, before Christmas, when the running hash ended in Bubbles and we found a friend chatting to her friend who runs a sugar plantation in Tanzania. Why not come down, he asks, why not we reply. So last week was a long weekend in Uganda and a few of us decided to make the journey.
On Saturday morning we got up at the crack of dawn to make sure we could make the most of the day. I had 8 people's luggage crammed into the tiny boot of my car and we were all ready to go. Except for one thing - this is Uganda - and the other car was not ready, so we had many cups of tea, some breakfast and waited for another 2 hours. Eventually we got off and were making good progress. we had a leisurely break at the Equator, taking lots of silly photos and a cup of coffee. The first hitch was a bird that flew straight into the windscreen and killed itself. I was too squeamish to deal with it, so heather picked it out and threw it away. On we went, through the rain, but still making good time. Until ... BANG ... a horrible noise was coming from the engine. So being girls, we did what we knew best and turned up the music to ignore the noise. This was OK for a few minutes, but then the car was really starting to lose power. We pulled up by the roadside and called the others to come back. But none of the three men we brought had a clue what to do. We tested the water and the oil, which both looked fine and rooted around, eventually reaching the conclusion that the problem had nothing to do with the spare tyre and that we hadn't got a clue. We tried to set off again and had to drive at a snail's pace, again increasing the volume on the music as the banging was getting louder. As we reached a small town we decided to drive into a garage. Aaaahhhh - we discovered an oil leak and the mechanic told me my car was broken and I should just leave it there and buy another one (because clearly, being a muzungu, I can do that no problem). We refilled the oil and set off again, this time even slower, then after a few more kms we came to a complete stop. We all poked our heads under the bonnet again and quickly realised that none of us had a clue. So what to do at a time like this? Well, as it was Australia Day weekend, Stacy gets out Waltzing Matilda and we all have a dance around to that. Ange gets out the waragi and red bull and she is a happy lady. Next thing, the Swiss boys get out the Frisbee, which starts up a game with the local kids, entertaining everybody around. By the time we left, pretty much an entire village worth of kids had gathered for the game. Meanwhile, the rescue operation was under way. Neil was coming up in his car, with a driver to come and tow us (the grand distance of around 80kms - oh dear god). As he had just been expecting to meet us at the border, he did not have his passport with him, so he asked a very friendly customs officer if he could pass through to help a friend, and lo and behold, he made it through with a hand written letter. He has a quick look at the car and tells me it's F*&^$# and I try my best not to burst into tears on the roadside. We pack up and tie the cars together and start being towed along. The ropes break a few times and we have to stop to retie them. Then we get to the border. At this point I do get a bit of luck, as we manage to persuade them to give me free insurance, since the car can't actually be driven anywhere. Unfortunately though, they don't let the other car through as it has no registration paperwork. So now there are 10 people, 1 broken down rav 4 and a land cruiser. It's a bit of a crush to say the least.
We eventually arrived and saw fit to crack open the beers and start up the barbecue. Clearly we were in need of a fair few after the trials and tribulations of the day. At this point, I should also mention that there was a great big inflatable swimming pool in the back garden ... so you can imagine what happened later on. I managed to avoid being thrown in (mainly coz I ran inside and locked myself in the loo), but did manage to fall over on the slippy step and take a big chunk out of my leg. So the day was not getting any better - medical assistance was quick and efficient, in the form of a big bandage and a bottle of whisky to calm my nerves - which were more than a little frayed by this point.
The next day we woke up to pouring rain, so we were forced to go to the pub and have a few more beers and play games. Stacy is now hooked on poker and keeps asking if we can go to the casino. I discovered a talent for darts and the others continued with drinking practise. Later on, the weather brightened up, so we were able to take a walk through the acres of sugar cane fields, then took a drive down to the river. I think I was having better luck that day, as there were no crocs or hippos in sight - I probably would have been eaten alive had they been there. So we took in the views of the pretty river, then went to see some of the locals setting burn off fires, where they literally burn off most of the leaves, so the air was filled with smoke and ashes - the photos look cool if I can ever actually upload them, that is!
My luck was not to last for long. As a pretty much life long vegetarian, who does not even like to walk past the butcher counter in a supermarket, then what I am about to talk about is very disturbing. I had heard the guys mention that they often do a bit of hunting. This is quite understandable, as it is many miles from any large town and it clearly is the best source of food available locally. However, i was not so rational when I was told that there was a dead impala on the porch ready to be butchered. What I then witnessed was a large deer like creature, minus the head and the fur, but complete with legs and full body outline, lying on the counter. It was then hacked into small pieces (probably better known as steaks to the carnivores amongst you), then being carefully placed in the freezer box to be taken up to Kampala. All very disturbing.
On the Monday we set off back to Kampala, and we were very lucky that our friend was kind enough to lend us his car and driver and take us all the way home. Am also very grateful for Neil's help in sorting out the wreck that is my car, that is still in Tanzania. So keep your fingers crossed for me and my little motor!
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