An overnight bus and twenty hours later- Uganda

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East African boarders, overland. Tales of seedy characters, red-eyed border patrol, machine guns wasting in corners, dank corridors. Stories abound, we prepared for the worst, three borders in twenty hours, Tanzania, Kenya and Uganda.

“You will be here, at the station, 2:30? we,” the voice breaks, unclear. I step from the loud bar, “But the ticket says it leaves at 4:00…”
“Be here now at 2:00..” and the line goes silent. Guide books dissuade the overnight bus to Uganda, rutted roads, the midnight stop in Nairobi, banditry, precisely our reasoning to go along.

The station feels cramped, sweaty bodies too close, touching, waiting. Bus stations become flea markets as old shoes, recycled shirts, magazines, and local food (roasted corn cob, samosas, chapatis) make the rounds, “sista, want to buy water?” a boy asks, wriggling through the crowd.
Eventually the red Kampala Coach pulls up, faded signs of luxury past, the AC and foam cushions died out long ago, and the screen that once played movies is now a skipping nineteen hour Michael Jackson tribute, but the leg room is decent.

For the rest of the story, please see our other blog

Elephant cloud

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Comments

[eric]

I really enjoyed your Uganda post. I have always wanted to go there. My blog is looking for some travel photos and reviews. If you have the time, you can email us at [e-mail], or check us out at dirty-hippies.blogspot.com Continued fun on your travels, Eric