The Sprint (?) Triathlon

There's probably something wrong with me for thinking that taking part in a triathlon constitutes a lovely day out of the city, but the Lake Victoria Triathlon always has a brilliant atmosphere. School was well represented, with six teachers participating as well as a few sporty parents and a brilliant eleven year old swimmer. 
At 2am on Sunday morning I was woken up by the most enormous clap of thunder. Not the best omen. I lay awake for an hour or so wondering whether my bike would hold out for the race or whether I would crash into something on the notorious dark tunnel under the airport runway on the bike ride. It was still pouring down when we left at 5.30am, making the drive to Entebbe horrendous. I used up all my adrenalin dealing with the glaring full beam headlights and trying to avoid knocking down any Ugandans taking an early morning bike ride without any lights on at all.
The event started over an hour late as the storm had destroyed the transition area. I then had over an hour to wait as we watched all the swimmers for the Olympic distance go first. We finally started our swim at 9.30am, so I knew it was going to be scorching by the time we got to the run.
I'm feeling a little pooped tonight, so in short: the swim in the pool was a little choppy and squashed but preferable to the bilharzia and crocodile ridden lake; biking past the lake is always beautiful and I enjoyed racing along with the other competitors; the run was exceedingly hot, my ipod decided not to work in my moment of need and I struggled up the hills, but did manage a sprint finish.
My training buddies and I all did a great job. One passed me out in the run and encouragingly told me to 'stretch out my legs' ... if only I could have! She got third place - fab job! I beat my target time of under 2 hours by nearly 20 minutes - and if I hadn't spent 5 minutes untying the stubborn double knot in my trainers it would have been even better! My friend also finished her first triathlon in under 2 hours and vows to better her time next year.
Today I am enjoying a little quality time with my sofa and the fact that I found a Galaxy bar in Kampala!

Final steps!

Phew - thank goodness all that's over!

Mind the step Laura!!

Tired but proud and happy training buddies!

Training buddies!

Practising the technique! Think my goggles were too tight!

I went the wrong way out!!!

Transitions are not easy!

Switch yourself on and ignore that Earth Hour nonsense ...

Today I received multiple invitations to attend 'Earth Hour', which is apparently a great opportunity to save the planet by switching off the lights for an hour. Well excuse me if I do not jump up and down with enthusiasm, but I have had about ten involuntary 'earth hours' already this month. In fact, I went a little bit further and did without power to keep the fridge and freezer running and ate cereal and an apple for dinner in the dark because of the endless bloody power cuts. 
It's not that I really want the earth's resources to run out, it's just that I don't think that gimmicks like this have any effect whatsoever. How many of the supporters would be willing to do without electricity for any real length of time? I bet that half of the people who agreed to it on the Facebook campaign don't even remember or bother. And just who should and should not participate in Earth Hour? I don't have a problem with the Eiffel Tower doing without lights for an hour, but I wouldn't like my local hospital to be left in the dark. Especially if I had an Earth Hour related injury, like falling down the stairs in the dark or slipping on a tile floor and impaling myself on a very sharp metal candle-stick.  Presumably the flashy website was all produced by a dynamo with a hamster running on a wheel. Oh no - that would get the animal rights lobby making a campaign. Wouldn't it be better to leave the lights on so that the scientists can work on finding a viable alternative to fossil fuels?
In Uganda, solar energy is slowly starting to be used more extensively. I would happily offer my support for this cause as it has many advantages, beyond the environmental ones. Once the equipment has been installed, you have a source of free energy. With a guaranteed strong light source, students can complete their homework without damaging their eyesight. Small businesses can run more effectively - who wants to go shopping in the dark? Solar energy is also cleaner and safer than the kerosene lamps that are used throughout Uganda when the power goes out - there is no danger of them being tipped over and causing a fire that can endanger the lives of everyone in the household and destroy all of their possessions. Furthermore, solar power doesn't have to be connected to the main grid, so it can be used in the most remote of locations.
Let's face it - electricity has brightened up all of our lives. My lights will most definitely be 'on' at 8.30pm tonight!

Kitchen Nightmares

Uganda has attracted a few celebrity visitors over the past couple of years. The Comic Relief team came to donate mosquito nets to those in need, Steven Fry trekked the gorillas and last year I saw a documentary where Joanna Lumley traced the Source of the Nile without ever picking up a speck of orange dust on her pristine white linen trousers. As far as I am aware though, Gordon Ramsey has yet to pay a visit. I think he could make a bumper edition of 'Kitchen Nightmares'. After the weekend's horrific breakfast experience, here is my rant, albeit with fewer expletives. 

Know your client base  
If a client enters a restaurant at 1pm on a Saturday and requests a full English breakfast, a juice, water and coffee, there is a fairly large probability that they are nursing a hangover and in need of sustenance now now! Their patience levels, therefore, may be lower than usual and excessive waiting time may induce a temporarily psychotic state of mind. At this point, it is also advisable to change the background music as a 5 track instrumental pan pipes CD on repeat can trigger feelings of despair in the customer.

Research your menu
Shakespeare famously said that 'a rose by any other name would smell as sweet', meaning that it doesn't matter what something is called. Fine for star-crossed lovers separated by old family fueds, but the same sentiment is not true of potatoes. If I order a dish containing potato wedges, I am expecting something thick chunky chips. What I am not expecting is a boiled potato cut in two. Apologising and offering to cut the potato into wedge shapes does not help at this point.

Cooking and preparation
Toast may be made from bread, but it has undergone some important irreversible chemical changes. Firstly, the colour changes to a richer, darker shade. Secondly, the texture is stiffer and crunchier and therefore a better base for baked beans or scrambled egg. Warmed bread, however, will go cold again and get increasingly soggy and does not taste good under baked beans.
Tinned mushrooms should never, ever be used. They are slimy and tasteless. If you do continue to insist on serving this evil substance, they should at least be cooked and served hot.
Likewise baked beans, bacon, sausage and egg should also be served piping hot.
If the customer orders scrambled egg, tomatoes and beans, the chance are that they do not want a Spanish omelet and bacon. Just a thought ...

Note the difference between the pale bread on the left and the golden toast on the right!

I do feel a little guilty for ranting about this, bearing in mind that the waitress and chefs are serving food they do not eat themselves. They have not grown up eating in expensive restaurants or even mid-priced coffee shops as this was. They are poorly paid, have long working hours and may not have had a whole lot of training. All the same, there are days when you just need a good fry-up!

The luck of the Irish!

A friend who has now left Kampala coined the phrase FOMO - this stands for Fear Of Missing Out. It affects most of us from time to time and I had my dose this weekend. I had decided that I definitely was not going to go to the Paddy's night celebrations in the Irish pub on account that last time I didn't drink any of the free Guinness and when I asked for a vegetarian alternative to the Irish Stew I was told I should just have extra potatoes! In fairness, that's a pretty authentic Irish vegetarian meal, except there would probably have been a wider range of potato products on offer on the emerald isle! Besides the food issue, I was also determined not to ruin all my triathlon training with a late night.

So I definitely wasn't going to go. Nobody could twist my rubber arm ... until we went to the Ireland V England sports afternoon. This is an annual tournament where they play football, rugby and Gaelic football. Still dressed in our England t-shirts from International Day, a few of us went along to support the home team. Ireland were well kitted out (my favourite slogan being 'Well oil beef hooked') and had a massive group of supporters. The England team was a total shower, with a team of any old random muzungus and a six year old and no kit whatsoever. Pretty pathetic really. I think we won the football but lost the rugby and Gaelic football, but to be honest I was just enjoying a Friday afternoon beer and forgot to keep track of the scores.

By the time we were leaving the game, I was feeling seriously sorry for myself and my impending night of self-imposed solitary confinement. Everyone was going and even the kids in school thought I was a bit sad for not going along. I never believe that anything in Kampala really sells out. But this had, and the fact that there were no more tickets left made it seem even better.

An hour or two later, I was just settling down to Glee when a friend called to tell me she had a ticket. 20 minutes later, I was dressed in a sparkly green top and ready to go.

The band had been flown in from Ireland and the fiddler used to play with The Waterboys. Their most famous song 'The whole of the moon' was very appropriate for the night, as the supersized moon we are experiencing right now cast a warm pinkish glow on everything around and tinged the night sky dark purple. A friend was totally star-struck and told me it was the first dance at her wedding - as opposed to my school-days memory of the boys singing the song on school trips whilst pulling moonies out of a coach window! The Irish pub was a sea of green and a few brave souls led the dancing. By the second half, the Kampala crowd was doing a great Riverdance impression. There was so much leg kicking and skipping around that I would consider the evening a full cardio work-out!

Last night was the St Patrick's day ball and the tickets sold out weeks ago. I was ready for a quiet night when I found 6 missed calls and a text saying 'call me urgently'.  I called my friend immediately, envisioning that she had been knocked down by a runaway matatu or was lying in a hospital bed with some unknown and incurable tropical disease. The emergency was that I had a ticket and had roughly half an hour to get dressed and get to the hotel downtown!

More dancing, drinking and silliness ensued for the rest of the evening. Tables were danced on and the red carpet came in use for an Ireland V the rest of the world tug of war competition. I believe I missed the crowd surfing! I even got to wear my favourite sparkly stilettos too - they don't get much action in Kampala!

Tomorrow it's back to the triathlon training ... starting with a running hash from the Irish pub with beer stops along the way - erm what am I doing?

Did the earth move for you?

This morning Kampala experienced an earthquake measuring 5 on the Richter Scale. Now this is not a major earthquake and many people barely registered it. I didn't even realise what had happened until I got to school and read the Intranet message. Then everything began to make sense.

Around 6.30 this morning, I was just reading the news online and had my elbows resting on my legs when they began to shake uncontrollably. Even when I checked that my feet were flat on the floor, they still didn't stop. I was convinced that I was having a funny sort of muscle spasm after not stretching properly after all the triathlon practise yesterday and cursed myself for not taking better care.

Meanwhile I heard rattling coming from the kitchen. In Kampala, this usually means one thing. A giant rat has gotten into the house and is currently running riot amongst my pots and pans. I gave the kitchen a wide berth and wondered whether I should poison it, set a trap or get the exterminators in! In the event, there was no need for either.

Later on I started thinking a little more about the earthquake in Japan. The tremor we experienced probably lasted a minute at most. I googled how long the massive 8.9 earthquake in Japan lasted for. The answer was a mere five minutes. The time it takes to boil the kettle. The earth having a hiccup. That's all it takes to destroy thousands of lives. Whole cities, homes and peoples' lives devastated in a moment. On Friday I watched the tsunami take out everything in its path in a matter of minutes. And now the explosions in the nuclear power plant and the untold economic repercussions. Who knows how long and how much money it will take to recover from this?

My thoughts are with those in Japan right now ...

Tri Again!

And the challenge for March is ... a sprint triathlon. This year, the organisers have moved the venue to a pool, so there's no risk of drowning in Lake Victoria or contracting bilharzia - phew!
 It's a 400 metre swim, 20 km bike and a 5 km bike. And it's in two weeks time! Luckily, Uganda has given us lots of public holidays recently, so we've had extra time to get some training in. Today was a public holiday because of the Mayoral Elections, since the first attempt last month resulted in minor riots after they found out that many of the votes had been fudged. As far as I know everything has gone fairly smoothly today, or at least I haven't received any text messages from the British High Commission to inform me of violence and areas to avoid.
I have a new biking buddy and she has taken to it like a fish to water. She has no problems with attacking the hills, but is feeling a little frustrated with the frequent shout-outs from random passers-by. Ugandans have a few lessons to learn in tact and diplomacy. How do you make somebody realise that shouting "Eh, you are last" or "Pedal faster, you are lazy" at a passing cyclist is not OK? Particularly when the said commentator is sitting on his rear end, guzzling a Nile Special, doing diddly-squat. On the other hand, rather a tactless Ugandan than an aggressive chavvy British teenager ...
This time I'm concentrating on the transitions, in particular the painful bike to run. My two fab training buddies and I have been egging each other on and the training has been enjoyable and stress free. Today we practised the whole thing, but in the wrong order. We took a 17km bike ride through the villages, passing the Baha'i Temple at the end, followed by a 5 km wobbly legged run. We finished with the swim and I now fully understand why the swim is placed at the start of the event and not at the end. I always thought it was annoying to have the swim first, as changing into biking clothes afterwards is going to be a bit annoying. By the time we hit the pool, after a hot and thirsty run in the thirty degree heat, we flopped into the pool and had about as much control as jellyfish! Lesson learnt! Then, to add insult to injury, the sky clouded over and there was a giant clap of thunder just as we finished the swim and hoped to relax in the sun.
Instead we consoled ourselves with a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits, managing to undo all our good work in a matter of minutes! Perfect!

Must try harder ...

Right now we're right in the middle of reports, so as usual, I find anything I can to distract myself. It's funny how I can churn out endless amounts of rambling on my blog, but when it come to reports I am totally uninspired.
Maybe if we could write what we're really thinking it would be more fun! Today I read the opening chapter of Matilda with a boy. Here are some of Roald Dahl's report comments:

The periodical cicada spends six years as a grub underground, and no more than six days as a free creature of sunlight and air. Your son Wilfred has spent six years in this school and we are still waiting for him to emerge from the chrysalis.

Or how about ...?

Fiona has the same glacial beauty as an iceberg, but unlike the iceberg she has absolutely nothing below the surface.

Pure brilliance from Mr Dahl, proving that the best children's writers entertain the grown ups as much as the kids.

I was trawling through the Literacy books this afternoon and came across a couple of little gems I will share with you. We have been learning about persuasive writing and discursive writing recently. Here are a couple of the kids' arguments in favour of wearing school uniform:

More Money

Getting uniform would mean teachers get paid more salary and that would make the teachers stay instead of leaving.

Really? Well all of my class are wearing full uniform - I await my bonus!

Here's the next one:

Uniforms have been used for generations by police, school children and security guards. So before you vote 'no uniform' think - policemen look cool!

Glad we've got that one straight then. I wonder whether he was talking about police in full riot gear or the crisp white uniform with matching gloves worn by the Ugandan traffic police!

Shhhhhh - it's a silent disco!

This weekend, I attended my first ever silent disco. I have to say I was a little dubious. The idea of dancing in a room with headphones on seemed a little strange. We went for pre-disco cocktails in the bar next door and wondered how we could tell whether the event had actually started ...
When we arrived, we were issued with a set of headphones and told that we could choose between House and chart music on station A and R & B on station B. We quickly invented hand signals to show which station we were listening to. It was easy to guess what people were listening to just from looking at their dance moves - so while we were waving our hands in the air to dance tunes, others were bumping and grinding to R & B music! The djs seemed to be having a great time, watching to see who was listening to their station and competing to see who could get the most listeners. I feel very sorry for the bar staff, who had to listen to people singing along to the music, as not even the best singers sing in tune when they have headphones on and can't actually hear their own voices!
I actually think that silent discos should be encouraged in Uganda. I could start with marketing the idea to the nightclub behind my apartment block that is currently blasting out music on a Sunday night, when I am trying to get an early night!

Come fly with me

Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away

If you can use some exotic booze

There's a bar in far Bombay

Come on and fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away

Once upon a time, flying was a luxurious affair, the reserve of the rich and famous. Passengers dressed to impress, Frank Sinatra sang about it and I imagine the whole experience was exciting and fabulous. Then came the package tours of the 1980s and any Tom, Dick or Harry could afford to jet away to foreign parts. When it comes to mile high fashion, the Brits are probably the world's worst dressed. I used to giggle at the Colombians who turned up at the airport with their high heels, voluminous hair and a full face of make-up, but it's better than the sloppy track-suits and combat trousers we all tend to wear. 

By the mid noughties (eek - horrid word - 2000s, zeros ??? I still haven't found a decent abbreviation for this decade), I was jetting off to European cities for a penny plus taxes on the budget airlines. Sure, they may try to charge you a quid to spend a penny, but who can complain at that price? 

In recent years, in these security-paranoid times, flying has become ever more hasslesome and humiliating. How many items of clothing are we going to be asked to remove before passing through the metal detector gates next? 

We needed a whole trolley to ourselves!

Checking nothing went astray

I thought I had experienced it all until I travelled with an East African budget airline to Kilimanjaro. The first plane looked like something that had been decommissioned by Aeroflot in 1972 and the unpleasant toilet smell wafted down the aisles for the entirity of the journey. In Nairobi, we did have some special treatment though. As we had such a short layover, we were worried about whether our luggage would get lost. We need not have been concerned. After disembarking the plane, the crew proceeded to empty the luggage hold in front of our very eyes and we saw that it was loaded onto the trolley and sent to the next plane. We then walked across the airfield an into the terminal. I do appreciate the fact that they still let you walk to the buildings here rather than put everyone on a bus for a 500 metre journey.

The return journey was no less eventful. We called the first plane, a tiny 18 seater propeller, 'the tube' and prepared ourselves for a bumpy ride. The journey was surprisingly calm and we landed in Nairobi 30 minutes later, flying at an altitude lower than what we climbed on Kilimanjaro! When we checked in again, we got upgraded. Finally - I've been hoping for this to happen for years! I should have contained my excitement ... not only was there no bubbly in business class, but we couldn't even get a glass of wine! 

Oh well - I guess I'm just not destined for luxury travel!

What I saw on safari!

Up until now, my safari experiences have all been in Uganda. Here, safari is peaceful and you can get close to nature, often without encountering another car for several hours. Many of the visitors to the National Parks here are working in the country, and they show off the country to their visiting friends and family. In Tanzania, however, safari is a big business.
As soon as I passed through the gates of Lake Manyara, I knew this was going to be a somewhat different experience. For starters, the loos were fully flushable, complete with liquid soap and hand dryers. There was a plush gift shop, selling everything from cans of coca-cola to fluffy toy lions. I was most fascinated by some of the creatures we spotted within the park - a totally different species of tourist to those found in Uganda.
What is the purpose of the face mask and why do people feel it necessary to wear matching khaki? I am not kidding when I tell you that I actually saw somebody wearing a 'Dr Livingstone, I presume' style pith helmet!

Multi-functional belt

What are you afraid of?

Full safari suit plus paparazzi lens

Matching hats

Is this a traffic jam on the M25? Oh no - there's a lion in the distance

Be careful - those animals may steal your bag

Can anyone explain the gloves?

9 out of 10 Ugandans would have something to say about the size of this arse!

 In short, I enjoyed the safari and spotting the Big Five, but came away with a new found appreciation for the tranquility of a safari in Uganda.

Safari stories

The Ngoronogoro Crater

Getting close to the tents!

Look who visited our campsite for a drink of water!

If you squint, you may see a rhino here

Sunrise over the crater

Happy campers!

Morning in the crater

I love the baby zebra!

Wildebeest remind me of grumpy old men

Wildebeest fight

The pink dots are flamingos

Not content with just one adventure, three of us decided to take advantage of being in Tanzania and to go on safari. I wasn't sure quite what our budget safari would entail, but Sunny Safaris did us proud. Camping, afterall, is much more enjoyable when you have somebody else to put up the tent and to cook all your meals!

After all that exercise and hard work, we decided to let our hair down a little. My Grandad used to say that it was OK to have a drink as long as 'the sun is over the yard arm'. I never really understood what a yard arm was, but I think it has something to do with boats and the navy and suggests that you probably shouldn't be boozing before mid-day. I have to say that 'Kili Time' - that is the time we cracked open our first Kilimanjaro beer got earlier every-day and the sun may not have been quite over the yard arm!

Our first game drive took us to Lake Tarangire, where we saw herds, not packs, of elephants. My friend also claimed to spot a fox on the campsite, but I think she was still suffering from altitude related delirium, or perhaps she had had one too many Kilimajaros!
Lake Manyara was another prime spot for seeing wildlife. Here we saw a tree climbing lion. I was surprised to see this, as I had been led to believe that the Ishasha National Park in Uganda was the only place to have tree climbing lions. Perhaps this one was taking a holiday!

The next day, we set off to the Ngorongoro Crater. This has to be one of the most spectacular settings for seeing wildlife in the world. Formed by volcanic activity a gazillion years ago, the area contains thousands of zebra, wildebeest, buffalo, lions, cheetahs, rhino and flamingos on the lake. The animals are contained inside the crater area, so it;s like entering a gigantic natural zoo. We saw a couple of cheetahs and rhinos in the far distance, but didn't get close enough to take a shot of them. I was cursing myself because I only had my point and shoot camera, so will have to hope that the images are engraved on my memory.