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Published: October 10th 2007
The beginning of our time in Uganda was spent on two crazy bumpy journeys, rocking and rolling around the entire time. The most recent one was intended to be this way. The first, however, was simply the African way.
Our bus from Lake Nakuru to Jinja, Uganda, pulled out of the bus station over an hour late. Within minutes, we realized that there was no way we'd ever make up the lost time. Instantly, we were being bumped and slammed around due to the numerous potholes and unpaved sections. The noise of the windows rattling almost out of their frames was quite alarming. At one point, everyone jumped up in a panic as the bus overtook a truck and hung two wheels off the road, leaning dangerously over to the side and making a horrendous noise. Our driver managed to pop us back up onto the road and tuck in front of the truck just before being hit by oncoming traffic. Cries of "polay, polay" (slowly, slowly) went round the bus. I'm not convinced the driver heard!
At 9pm, our bus finally rattled into Jinja, over 10 bumpy hours since setting off. We, along with our backpacks, we covered
in a think layer of red dust. I was convinced that we would have to invest in a new set of internal organs - surely livers and kidneys cannot withstand that amount of jiggling around? We got out of the bus and found that the only way to get to the hostel was to take a motorbike taxi. Now it was our turn to request "polay, polay". The hostel turned out to have a good bar, so we calmed our shattered nerves with a "Nile Special" beer and a Snickers for dinner (the kitched had long closed).
For our next rock 'n' roll journey we actually forked out $95 for the priviledge of being pummelled and tossed around for five hours straight - white water rafting at the source of the mightly Nile river.
After breakfast, we boarded a truck with about 14 others and were taken to the entry point, where we were split into three boats. We were given the choice of "easy boat" or "hard core boat". Wanting to get out money's worth, we quickly opted for the hard core option. Our group of six assembled with our guide and he asked who'd like to
be in front. After an extended silence and nervous glances, Scott and I volunteered. What was I getting myself into?!
We launched the raft and set off to start our 30km trip, including four grade 5 rapids (plus one grade 6 which, thankfully, they make you walk past!). After spending some time practicing the commands on flat water (including falling in), we approached our first grade 5 rapid - Bujagali Falls. No problem. We went over the edge and was slammed with a wall of foaming water, but our raft managed to stay upright with all of us in it. We weren't so lucky later on, however, with our raft overturning a total of three times, each time sending us all tumbling into the rapids. We felt fine with it until the third and final flip at a rapid ominusly known as the "Bad Place". All I remember is heading towards a mass of seething water and hearing our guide's direction to "get down and hold on". The next thing I knew, my paddle, the raft, and everyone in it was gone and I was under the water being tumbled around, not knowing which way was up. Whenever my
life jacket buoyed me to the surface, it was for the briefest moment, just enough time to fill my lungs with a mixture of air and river water before being thrown back into the foaming waters. Finally, I spluttered to the surface and saw my knight in shining armour. No, not Scott. It was actually the rescue canoe, cme to pick me up and transport me to the river bank. Unfortunately, with all of the commotion, I somehow upturned the canoe. I patiently waited while my rescuer righted his canoe and picked me up again. On being delivered safely to shore, my next concern was Scott. He was nowhere to be seen. After some frantic searching and enquiring, he walked over the hill, having made it to the bank further upstream. It was a great rafting trip, but we both agreed we were not in a hurry to repeat it! We're too young to die!
Joking aside, the Nile river is quite a serious undertaking, having claimed numerous lives. In the few days we have been here, one rafter has broken a rib and another has pulled out their shoulder. Stories of teeth smashed out by stray paddles abound.
Tragically, a man died the day after we did our rafting trip. We'd gone to the river bank at Bujagali Falls to watch the rafts go over, and then went to the restaurant overlooking the falls to watch the world go by. Suddenly, people were rushing to the edge of the falls. AT first, we just assumed that more rafts were coming, but people continued to gather. Curiosity took over and we joined them. We found out that a local university student had stood on a rock to have his photo taken and had slipped and fallen in. He'd not come up. After twenty or so minutes of looking for him, we all knew it was hopeless. Friends we led away in tears, and the happy Sunday afternoon vibe turned appropriately sombre. It was another tragic event on an otherwise fun-filled river. Events like this really make you aware of the destructive power nature can posess.
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