The Coronation of King Ndamase ll of Amapondo ase Nyandeni

 The Coronation of King Ndamase ll of Amapondo ase Nyandeni.

                                                                                                                                    

Rain. Petrichor – my almost most favouritest smell. The road was slushy with red mud road; at last we had had proper rain after a very dry winter.  My friend Sandy did a half gasp as we negotiated a muddy patch. I’d said I hadn’t driven in mud for ages, and needed a bit of practice ; she thought I would limp through the nasty parts. I didn’t – that’s a recipe for getting stuck., so we did a few skids, and a few bumps, but eventually we got to Nyandeni Great Place, near Libode, in Pondoland, Eastern Cape, 

South Africa, after having flagged down a few taxis to ask if we were on the right road.

Rain, is regarded as extremely auspicious in Pondo culture. Rain at a wedding is a sign of a marriage being a long and happy one.

Rain at a coronation, is an extremely good sign of the king having a long and good reign.

It rained today, 3 October 2018, at the coronation of Ndamase Ndlovuyezwe Ndamase, as King Ndamase ll of Amapondo ase Nyandeni, Pondoland, so his subjects who came to see the coronation, were very happy, and stepped through and over puddles with smiles.

Pondoland, a region of the former Republic of Transkei, now part of the Eastern Cape, South Africa, stretches along the Wild Coast, from Hluleka south of Port St Johns to the Mtamvuna River in the north, on the border of the Kwa Zulu Natal south coast, and extends 100 – 150km inland. It is divided into Western Pondoland, and Eastern Pondoland. Amapondo ase Nyandeni is part of Western Pondoland, and the king’s seat is at Nyandeni Great Place near Libode, about 75km from Port St Johns.

The Amapondo People wishing their new king well.

Great tents were erected to accommodate the thousands of guests who were in attendance. The guest list included South African Government Ministers, South African Kings and Queens from other regions,

Bishops and priests, foreign dignitaries from as far away as China, and Kenya, local government officials, and of course, the ordinary, but most important people, the Pondo People.

We, as media, chose seats in the fourth row, in front of the raised dais. It turned out that those seats were reserved for the Royal family, so we moved further along. The seats we chose were also in the fourth row. The rows behind this row was full of people from Port St Johns, who were very happy to have us in their group. They were delightful. They sang and chanted their opinions, and had to be the noisiest, happiest group in the audience of several thousand people. A bit later we were also asked to move from those seats to make room for more royal family members. We were very happy to oblige, but our new found friends, told us not to move. They had no intention of moving either, and it turned out that our seats weren’t needed after all,

The Royal Family members were splendidly dressed, the princesses were quite gorgeous. The Pondo people in attendance were dressed in traditional Pondo dress, with magnificent bead work enhancing the traditional dress.

Of course, the main reason for the day’s celebrations was the ‘crowning’ of King Ndamase ll,

who, due to various reasons, had not been able to ascend to the throne on the death of is father, who had died many years before. King Ndamase ll was invested as king, when he donned the lion skin of the Amapondo ase Nyandeni Kingdom. 'Crowning': the Amapondo kings do not wear crowns as western kings do, they wear a lion skin.

I recognized and greeted many people. Ayanda, who had probably hired out the massive tents for the ceremony, OR Tambo Regional Municipal staff who I meet at tourism get togethers, Roger, representing the South African Defence Force and local regiment; resplendent in his dress uniform, and untitled ordinary men and women who had also travelled up from Port St Johns to be part of this historic occasion. 

Speeches were many.

Pondo Dancers

Ululations and singing was plentiful. Traditional dancers performed, including one very unusual dancer, a man, who impersonated a female dancer. He had everybody agog – cross dressing is not common in Pondoland, and especially not at royal functions. Speeches ranged from political wish lists to the reciting of the entire Royal Pondoland family’s genealogy, with great emphasis being made on the great King Faku, the Ndamase family, and the Bokleni family.

The mention of the Bokleni family brought to mind how many royal family members and chief’s family members from this area, had died when the SS Mendi was sunk in 1917. The SS Mendi was a troop carrier that sank when another British ship collided with it in the icy English Channel. 646 men perished in this disaster, many were from Pondoland, including those from the Bokleni and Ndamase families.

Speeches included how to get farming up and running in the area again, and how royal families and traditional leaders were going to be asked to give a lot of their unused lands to their subjects and communities, so that they could become self sufficient again. Pondoland was traditionally extensively farmed, but with the South African government creating a welfare state, people no longer had the need to grow their own foods, and the skills, and will to farm was lost. Nyandeni Great Place is surrounded by rolling hills, which still have unused terracing clearly visible on old farmland. Getting crops growing on the fertile land will be easy. The motto of the Nyandeni Kingship says it all: 

                                                       "The Soil is our greatest asset".

Unused, fertile, farmland with terraces in Nyandeni

The horrendous unemployment was also mentioned, with figures from Port St Johns being cited: out of a population of 55 000, 53 000 people are unemployed and are surviving on government grants.

The actual investiture of King Ndamase was about to happen. The lion skin which is the king’s symbol of office was duly blessed by the Bishop, and then it was placed over the head

The Lion Skin is blessed

and shoulders of King Ndamase ll. His people expressed their pleasure and happiness in song and chants, and the new king signed the necessary documents. More dance and song took place.

He then took his place on the golden throne, and faced his happy subjects.

During the entire ceremony, the king’s wife, now queen, did not take part in any of the ceremony. She sat on her own throne, amongst her family, in the front row of the audience.

The AmaPondo King and Queen

Only at the end of the ceremony, did she join the king on the raised dais.

The Praise Singer

 Praise singers are normally male, but King Ndamase also had a female praise singer; she was full of whim and vigor about how King Ndamase would make development and job creation happen in the area.

Many a closing thank-you was done, it was now time for a rather late lunch, which we declined, as we had to drive back to Port St Johns in the auspicious rain.

Beautiful women in traditional dress.

Sandy and I got separated in the throngs of people, and I wandered around, for a while trying to find her. It was indeed a privilege to be there, stopping to chat to people, photographing people in their wonderful traditional costumes, just being part of Pondoland. I did laugh at myself though, taking a youngster to task in the melee of people: one young and tall whippersnapper (maybe, being tall, he wasn’t a Pondo), thought himself quite clever by walking past me and saying: ‘Hi Mlungu’. Whatever you may have been told about the use of that word, Mlungu in Pondoland, is generally an insult. Sometimes it isn’t, you have to be au fair with how and when it is used. This young man, wasn’t exactly being insulting, he was being disrespectful, naughty, maybe trying his luck at impressing his friends. Luck wasn’t on his side. I stopped, turned and called him back politely with a smile. He and his four friends came up to me, and I greeted them all, and then asked him if he would talk to his mother like that? His face fell, his friends sniggered at him, and I got many an instant ‘cele xolo’ (I’m sorry) from the young men. The apology was accepted, and we parted. Later when I saw him in the car park, he again greeted me, this time politely, with a sheepish smile. Yes, Umfana – manners maketh a man, I hope you don’t repeat your rudeness to someone else. As an aside: three South African police officers in Durban were recently fired for addressing their superior like that. After a court case and apologizing, they were reinstated.

On the way home, I took the turn to the Mendi memorial – it was newly erected and I hadn’t seen it yet.

Mendi Memorial

Somehow, we missed it, the last sign said it was 200m away  - but we must have taken the wrong fork in the road, and we ended up on an almost non-road, which did eventually lead back to the road to Port St Johns. The Mendi memorial, remembering those brave fighting men, one whose family member was made King of Amapondo ase Nyandeni today, will have to be visited another day. May his reign be long and good, and may he remember the words that that were spoken as the ship sank: ‘We are the sons of Africa’, and instill that same sense of pride in his subjects, and build the Kingdom up to be prosperous for all.

Books on the Amapondo People and the Mendi tragedy:

Faku: Rulership and Colonialism in the Mpondo Kingdom by Timothy J Stapleton

Men of the Mendi by Brenda Shepherd

Dancing the Death Drill by Fred Khumalo (Historical fiction)

Munich. Munchen. A great city to have a long lay over.

                              Munich. München. A great city to have a long lay over.

No-one likes long lay-overs. Airports are generally just that, airports, and a having to hang around for hours waiting for a connecting flight is generally no fun. 

Munich can be fun. Munich has year after year won many awards for being the best airport in Europe.

I flew in from Chicago. A long trans Atlantic flight with United Airlines, which was pleasant. They pull the blinds down and switch off the lights as you in fly eastwards, more or less fooling you into thinking that you’re flying during the night; you’re really flying into a new time zone, and your body on arrival, sort of agrees that you flew through the night.

Toys of yesteryear.

Munich – arrivals is fast, the Bavarians are pleasant and efficient, and you get through customs and arrivals quickly. If you have the right documents to leave the airport and enter Germany proper, head for the exit. Clear passport control, and enter the world where ‘Gruss Gott’ is the local greeting. 

Many years ago, I went to Germany on tourism marketing trip, and I asked a German friend to help me with some basic German before I left. Her answer was basically a snort of derision. ‘’Why bother?’ She of north Germany said, and continued with great exaggeration: ‘they don’t even speak proper German in Bavaria, it’s some weird language’. Oh. So much for my attempt at learning German. Off I had gone to Bavaria, with only a few words of German. I learnt to say Gruss Gott, and a few other words, but never quite got it right for biscuits to go with my coffee. My order went something like ”ein café mit küshe/ keks / küken” (All similarly pronounced, this means: coffee with kitchen/ biscuit/ chicken), which always resulted in raised eyebrows from the waiter.

Munich airport is huge, there is everything, including a cycling park, complete with ramps and jumps.

Munich Airport's Cycle Park

The only complaint; the Bureaux de Change weren’t open, and the lady at information said they were hardly ever there. Oh well, too bad, there’d be lots in town. I found the baggage storage office. It’s called Left Baggage, which I suppose it is when you leave the office. Pay when you collect please. So, with just my handbag over my shoulder, I went and bought a train ticket to Munich City at the ticket machine. Nice and easy, even I could get that right, and I went down to the platform to catch a train. Direction: München Hauptbahnhof.

I would get off at Marienplatz, the town center. The train ride was lovely, a relaxing 30 minutes or so.  The train swished past farm lands, country houses, a village named Englsshalking with cute architecture, more farmland. Fields with horses and cattle. A field with deer too!

I got off at Marienplatz, wearing a silly smile as I got to the top of the steps into the sunshine. It had been many years since I had been there, and it was wonderfully unchanged. I had timed it perfectly, the Rathaus - Glockenspiel, the iconic musical carillon consisting of 43 bells started a few minutes later. In summer these chimes play three times a day, and the 32 figures spin, commemorating the 1568 marriage of Wilhelm V to Renata of Lothringen,

Knights jousting at the Royal wedding, and at the lower level, the Schäfflertanz, a dance from 1517, that commemorates the end of the plaque. I oohed and aahed with the rest of the tourists and children.

I played the happy tourist, taking in the buildings; the Rathaus is actually new,rebuilt in the late 1800’s. The original (Alte) Rathaus, next to it, now houses a toy museum in its Gothic Tower. A climb up the circular stairs is just what is needed to get the blood flowing after a long flight. The toys, some dating back to the 1700's, are fascinating. Barbies and Kens from the 1970's are also on display.

The summer sun was hot, and I was glad I had brought my hat. I filled up my water bottle at the drinking fountain near the Alte Rathaus.

Drinking Fountain
at Marienplatz.

Munich has 180 drinking fountains. Information is scant about these fountains, but I like to think that that the nearby Peterskirche (Church of Peter), followed the age-old formula of building a Christian Church on top of an ancient Pagan site, which was traditionally near a spring.

The Fish Fountain, in front of the Rathaus was my next stop, to admire the statuary, and its history. First built in 1318 to supply water to the citizens, it has been renovated several times after being damaged. It is topped with a bronze fish which commemorates the original fish market which was near there. Since 1884, water from the Mangfall Valley, 40 kilometers away, has been piped into the fountain. One of the latest renovations added a ground basin, for Munich’s dogs to drink out of.

Tourists from all corners of the world mingled with locals. A flower seller happily posed with an admiring tourist. Cafes served beer from the local breweries, local dishes, and lots of ice cream was sold too. I wandered down streets branching out from the square, at one stage arriving at one of the ancient city gates, Sendinger Tor. A busker was playing under the tower. I wondered how many minstrels have played near those gates over the centuries.

Sendinger Tor.

Being hungry, I walked slowly back to Marienplatz, popping into assorted shops along the way, very happy to buy my favourite cosmetics which are not available in South Africa. The assistant and I did the Gruss Gott thing, and I surprised myself, by answering her queries in German, the big surprise was that she understood me and didn’t swap to English, until I got stuck.

The Golden statue of Mary on top of her 12 meter column was ahead of me, and I ‘joined‘ a tour group who were listening to their tour guide’s story.

Golden Mary

I don’t know his name, but he was hilarious, his history lesson included ungrateful Swedes, whose invasion of Munich wasn’t successful, and how they may have expressed their sentiments in very colourful language, and what they may have thought of the statue. 

This statue of Mary was created in the 1500’s, and has gone up and down over the centuries when safe keeping was needed. She is surrounded by four putti (I didn’t know what that was either – a putto is type of cherub), each depicted fighting a different type of evil.

As in most European squares, an obligatory human statue was there, hoping to make some money. He was good, but could not resist children being in awe of him, and would come to life and talk to the kids. It was the sweetest thing to watch, and I hope his beautiful smile put many euros in his hat.

A talking statue.

Lunch. There are lots restaurants around the square. I chose the Café Am Marienplatz Zum Ewigen Licht, because…… because it looked like my sort of place. It turned out to be pretty ancient. It has been business since 1857, minus a short closure.The staff uniform hasn’t changed either; the waitresses are dressed in traditional Bavarian pale blue skirts and low cut white shirts, and the wait

Traditional blue worn by
 a waitress

ers are dressed in lederhosen. It is the same restaurant where the traditional Weisswürst (White Sausage) of Munich was created. Not being a sausage fan, I opted for their delicious Viener Schnitzel, complimented with ein apfelsaft. If you are a review reader – ignore the bad comments, and enjoy a meal in a historic restaurant.

After lunch, I again strolled around, this time around the back of the Rathaus, to the Frauenkirche, home of the legend of the Devil’s footprint and the tomb of Ludwig lV. History is everywhere.

Then it was time to head back to the airport. Another relaxing train trip, and soon I was in the Left Baggage Office paying Euro 11.00 to the gentleman for services rendered. That was another pleasant surprise; I had paid three times that at Milan’s airport a few months earlier. The Left Baggage office has tables and space for you to repack your bags, should you need to get your Munich purchases safely put away.

After going through security, I found my gate, which was in another building of Terminal 2’s main building. Getting there required a bus ride. It is advisable to find your gate well in time – if you do have to get to a gate in another building, you could be creating unnecessary stress and unexpected runs for yourself, if you haven’t gotten there early.

Monks at Marienplatz.

Munich in the height of summer is hot, and walking around made one hotter. I now had another eight-hour flight ahead of me, and the thought of a shower was delicious. Munich airport again got 5 virtual stars from me. Munich has Showers. With a capital S. Yes, many airports have showers: you know the variety: shower stalls, small, utilitarian places.

Munich Airport has showers close to the gates. Next to the doors (two were marked with male figures, two were marked with female figures), there is a pay point. Insert your credit card, enter your details, and the door unlocks. Voila! You enter a bathroom that would do a five star hotel proud. Complete with a pile of freshly laundered white towels in the dressing area, a hairdryer, a basin with huge mirrors, and a loo in the central area. The shower area on the far side, is many square meters in size, and has two showerheads, and lovely shower gel is also supplied. It was luxurious, and your payment gives you an hour to enjoy the facility. Freshening up in an airport takes on a whole new meaning here.

Refreshed, ready for dinner and a movie, I boarded the SAA flight home, and arrived back in JHB the next morning. SAA’s service really is good, if you normally fly via the Middle East, on one of the carriers from that part of the world, try giving them a miss for a change, and Fly SAA.

Uganda - Gonoleks, Piapiacs and Plantain Eaters

Murchison Falls

Uganda - Gonoleks, Piapiacs and Plantain Eaters

I got onto to the Entebbe bound plane in Johannesburg, feeling like I had a run a mini marathon.

I had specifically booked a flight from to Durban to Johannesburg many hours ahead of my flight to Entebbe, just in case of things going wrong. Which was just as well. My Mango flight was delayed, then cancelled several hours later. I was put on another flight, which was also cancelled. Fellow passengers were muttering that it had been done deliberately by the company, because the flight wasn’t full. I went to the airport authorities to say that I wasn’t impressed. If I missed my flight, I would miss a whole itinerary, and I would hold them responsible for all costs. I was put on another flight pronto, and arrived at Johannesburg well in time to catch the Entebbe flight. I thought.

I collected my luggage from the Durban flight, checked in, was wished a pleasant flight etc, and made my way to security and customs. Security was also pleasant, and I then joined the queue for customs. And queued and queued. Any amount of people were waiting patiently in the queue, flying to all sorts of destinations. There were only two custom officers on duty, and it seemed that every second passenger was pulled off into separate rooms for some sort of extra security check and questioning session, by the same two officers on duty, and we didn’t move. An hour passed with this going on, and we were all getting irate. Some ladies going to the DRC were getting very stressed about possibly missing their flight. I was too. Missing a flight when you have checked in timeously, and done everything correctly, because of too few customs officers would be ridiculous.

The ladies went through, and I went through. I started walking as fast as possible towards my departure gate, when my name was called over the public address system. Damn. I started walk-running, with no idea how far away my gate was. Passenger Costello Kathryn, this is your final boarding call or words to that effect, being repeated several times, together with another person’s name. A guy was also moving in my direction, and as we got to a fork in the departures building, I asked where he was going. Nigeria, he replied,

Between Kampala and Entebbe.

his gate was next to mine. Our names were called again, and he grabbed my hand luggage on wheels, and said: RUN! Which I did, with him close behind me with both our bags. I got the gate area as they were closing the gate, shouted my name to the flight attendants, thanked my hero profusely, grabbed my bag and ran again. The flight attendants (SAA), smiled reassuringly that I had made it, and I boarded, totally exhausted, from the run, swearing to myself that I would work on getting fit again.

Oh, the luxury of a half empty plane and sweet attendants. SAA management may leave a lot to be desired, but I have always found SAA a pleasure to fly. In this half empty plane, I spread out, put lots of pillows behind my back, swung around, and stretched my legs out over the adjacent seats. I quenched my thirst with a litre of water, snacks, a late lunch, a glass of wine, and settled down with my iPad, writing a stinker of a letter to my bankers; their standard of service was pathetic.

They had lost some of my papers, and instead of phoning, and asking if they could have copies, they froze the account with my Uganda holiday funds in it.

Red Chilli Hideaway, Kampala

That had nearly caused my trip to be a non-event. I had ‘made a plan’, but I was furious, and the bank with no standards lost most of my business. That done, I read my guide book to Uganda the rest of the way.

Why go to Uganda? It had never been on my ‘Go to list’. I had been partly brought up in Tanzania, and Kenya, and Idi Amin’s reign of terror had started when we were living there. We had visited friends in Jinja during this time, and I have the trip very strongly imprinted in my memory. I very clearly remember us children not being allowed out in to the garden, whose lawns stretched down to the banks of the Nile River, before our parents had done a patrol and checked that there were no bodies washed up on the bank. That had left a terrible impression, and I had never, until now, considered going back.

At least that was the status quo when Mina phoned, and said that she and Jackie were going to go to visit Jackie’s daughter Katie, to celebrate Jackie’s younger daughter, Ela’s 21st birthday. Did I hesitate? I don’t think so. I did the usual instant yes, and then wondered afterwards what I was doing. We would stay at the backpackers that Katie managed, Red Chilli Hideaway, in Kampala, and then we’d go up to Murchison Park for a few days. Murchison as in Murchison Falls – oh yes please!

I needed to sort out a visa, and contacted the Ugandan High Commission in Pretoria. This was my first contact with anybody from the country, and the man I corresponded with, set the tone of what was to come. Yes, they could issue my visa, but it really wasn’t necessary to go through all the rigmarole of sending my passport to them, I could just purchase it at the Entebbe Airport.

The staff at Entebbe Airport were equally friendly, customs was quick, easy and pleasant, and my visa purchase was simple. I walked out to the arrivals area, and there was the taxi that Red Chilli had sent to meet me, complete with my name on a board.

Off we went, in the direction of Kampala. Kampala is only 60km from Entebbe, but it’s generally a 3 hour trip of congested, slow moving traffic, through what seems to be a never ending open air market.

There were traders everywhere, and as night fell, all the street vendors were lit up with candles or paraffin lamps. As we neared Kampala, my driver (sorry, I can’t remember his name), asked if I needed anything before he dropped me off at Red Chilly. Did I have Uganda money or US Dollars? It was a question I was reluctant to answer. Answering it, it my opinion, was setting myself up to be robbed. So, I answered nonchalantly, I did have some dollars, but no Ugandan shillings. Oh, said he, in that case we need to stop at a money changer, so that I could get useable currency. Say what? At night, in a strange city, in Uganda? Serious? No. I thought passing up on the offer was a good option. But my driver was insistent and pulled up at small shopping centre, where a Bureau de Change was open. Armed guards stood outside. I got out of the taxi bus, heard something fall, and reached under the car for it. It turned out to be an empty water bottle, and I chucked it into the car. I went into the Bureau de Change and joined the queue. I was now tired, really tired. I wondered where my phone was, but I was at that stage of tiredness where I couldn’t have cared less about anything. I couldn’t find it in my handbag. Ag who cares, maybe it fell out of the car with the water bottle, I’d look when I got back to the car. If I had the energy.  I got to the counter, the transaction went smoothly, and I put the money away, thanked the clerk and walked out of the office. Well, I tried to. A shout went up behind me ‘Madam!’ Who, me? Yes me. A guy came up to me. ‘Is this your phone? You left in there.’ I thanked the man, and got into the car again. Thank-you Uganda, so far you’d made a really good impression.

Red Chilly Hideaway is more than just a lodge. There are dorms for those on a budget and private en-suite rooms. It was good seeing everybody, and after supper (Sushi), we went to bed. We were up at dawn, sitting on a verandah with good coffee, watching birds in the garden.

We saw birds with weird names: Gonoleks, Plantain Eaters, Piapiacs and Pittas. These are just a few off Uganda’s 1000 bird species. Some are just weird. Like Shoe bills,

The weird Shoebill.

which are on the top of many birders’ ‘want to see list’. Gonoleks, with their bright red plumage and oriole like call, became a favourite immediately.

What does one do in Kampala? One has lazy mornings at the pool. One goes to Lake Victoria, and has lunch at a marvellous hotel, or one enjoys the park and botanical gardens. One enjoys the local coffee shops.

One admires the disciplined soldiers on security patrol. As we were in Uganda just before the Presidential inauguration, we saw a number of platoons on duty. We also had the fright of our lives while enjoying cake and coffee at a coffee shop – an extremely low flying military jet screeched overhead, so low, that we actually ducked.

Military on alert.

Those of us that gaped slack jawed at the event, swore we could clearly see the rivets holding the plane together. The sonic boom was awesome. 

We spent a few days in Kampala, and then we were off to the Murchison Game Reserve. We stopped at the Uganda Rhino Sanctuary, to do a spot of Rhino Trekking.
This is basically a walk through the bush looking for the introduced rhino, with a guide. Both white and black rhino were extinct in Uganda. A few years ago, some land was bought, and 3 white rhinos from Kenya, and 3 from…..……  guess where? Disneyland of all places, were introduced. They bred successfully, and to date (2018), a healthy population of 23 rhino are in the sanctuary. The rhinos live in different family groups, and have monitors 24/7, who live, sleep and eat with them, to stop any poaching. Should something untoward happen, the monitors, who are invisible in the bush, simply call for back up, and a well-armed security force will be at the site within minutes. Later, we were to meet a man who has in his employ, the man who shot the last of Uganda’s Black rhino, back in the Amin days.

Our guide, Robert, proudly showing us his rhinos.

Years, after the deed, he found out what he had actually done, and is now a keen conservationist. Education is a vital key to preserving the natural wonders of the world, and Uganda educates its youth to protect their natural assets. We found the rhinos, spent a while a few metres from them where they lay in the shade, having a good laugh at a youngster who got himself stuck in a fallen over sapling.

White Rhino

Murchison Game Reserve is awe inspiring. It’s huge. It has a rain forest with chimpanzees. It has the Nile River. It has Murchison Falls. It has hundreds of animals. Thousands actually. Buffalo. Elephant, hippo, the biggest wickedest Nile Crocodiles you’ll ever see. It has the Uganda Kob, which is Uganda’s special version of an impala gazelle. It is bigger and heavier than the common impala. It has Rothchild’s giraffe, lots of them, and until very recently, only on one side of the Nile. A family group were captured and taken across on the ferry to the non-giraffe side and released there. Why weren’t there any on the one side? Because in the bad days, they all got shot out, like so much of Uganda’s game, and swimming across rivers, is not what giraffes do for fun. Oribi are common, as are Kongoni (aka Hartebees), and Grants Gazelles.

Ugandan Kob

It has Abyssinian Ground Hornbills, which have blue faces as opposed to the red of the more common Southern Ground Hornbills. It does not have Black Crowned Cranes, you have to go further north to see those, but it does have the amazing Shoebill, which walk in the long grass on the river banks. Lions? Yes. Leopard? Yes. We saw both species of large cats.

Crossing the Nile River

Birds – 100’s of species. Thankfully, poaching is no longer a problem.

Musicians at the ferry crossing.

Uganda is adamant about preserving its wildlife for future generations, and so it is protected by the people of Uganda. A little bit of poaching for the pot does occur, but that is antelopes like kob, and it does not harm the population to any major extent.

The chimpanzees live in the rain forest section of the park. Well trained guides are there to make sure that you do see a chimpanzee or six, and they are in radio contact, telling each other where the chimpanzees are. I had expected semi tame chimpanzees, and had had visions of them, when seeing humans, coming down to our level, to scrounge a banana.

Chimpanzee drum.

It was a really pleasant surprise to find that these chimpanzees are truly wild, and tolerate humans coming into their territory, but were not interested in us. As it was, the chimpanzees were uncooperative that day, and stayed high in the tree canopy, the only bit of acknowledging of our presence, was that they threw some wild fruit at us. Their aiming wasn’t too good, so we were ok. While walking through the forest, we did hear them communicating with their ‘drums’. These drums are part of the root system of certain trees, which, when smacked hard, produce a booming sound which can be heard for miles. They communicate all sorts of happenings through this drumming. Different sounds are produced for ‘good food here’, ‘leopard on the prowl’, ‘look out – incoming tourists’, etc.

Our home for the next week was Red Chilly Rest Camp.

Olive Baboon

Accommodation is in huts scattered in an area above the river. Equipped with mosquito nets, comfortable beds, plenty of hot water, a simple but good restaurant and a bar, you really couldn’t wish for more. Hippos wandering through the camp at night is added on for free.

Different types of accommodation is available in the park. The Murchison River Lodge (the locals call it MRL), where we had the actual birthday dinner, is an upmarket lodge overlooking the river.

We spent the week going on game drives, or on a boat on the Nile. The Murchison Falls are spectacular from the top, and awesome from the bottom. The site where Ernest Hemingway crashed his plane the first time, is not far from the falls, and is marked with a sign.

The site of Hemingway's first crash.

He was presumed dead after his plane was seen near the river, and newspapers reported the loss to the world. A few days later, he and his party surprised everyone by turning up unharmed.

Hemingway, after having had his plane fixed from this first crash, took off, and crashed again, this time hurting himself and the rest of his party. Many totally outrageous and untrue stories of Hemingway’s trips to Uganda are unfortunately perpetuated by guide books, but this one about crashing the same plane twice, in the same area, is true.

The waters of the Nile River,

Nile Crocodile.

specifically the White Nile, which has its source at Jinja in Uganda, takes 3 months to complete its 6600 odd kilometre journey to the Mediterranean Sea.

View of the White Nile.

The Blue Nile is actually a tributary, which has its source at Lake Tana in Ethiopia, and joins the White Nile at Khartoum in Egypt, where it becomes the simpler name; The Nile.

The rather ugly Shoebill storks are endemic to this area, and of course, birders from all over the world, come to tick this bird, and while searching for this bird (they are few and far between), the birders get to tick 100s of other species with strange names. Piapiacs are a long tailed species of crow. Gonoleks are a bush shrike.

Marabou Stork.

A Silver Bird is a flycatcher. These and about another 1000 other species make Uganda a bird watcher’s heaven. The beautiful Grey Crowned Crane is Uganda’s national bird, and is quite common.

After Murchison,

Murchison Falls.

we went back to Kampala, and met up with a family friend, who took us on a road trip, first to Jinja, and the source of the Nile, which was first described to the outside world by the explorer John Hanning Speke in 1862. A memorial to him stands in the park. The source itself, where the Nile starts from Lake Victoria, is not spectacular, it is little more than a few ripples on the water surface, but we were lucky enough to see a family of very large otters .swim up against the current, and go up onto a nearby island.

Delicious grilled chicken on a stick

What does one eat on a road trip in Uganda? Grilled chicken.
Sold by street vendors, and displayed like a fan; they are delicious - do not turn your nose up at this delicacy. Ask the vendor to source fresh chapatis (pancake type bread) to go with your meal, and a local beer or fruit juice, and you won’t want to go to restaurant on your trip.

Uganda is also home to Angoli Cattle. This breed of cattle has unbelievably huge horns, and can be seen in rural areas, often herded by young boys. I tended to get as excited seeing these magnificent animals, as I did looking at game, much to the amusement of our guide.

Angoli Cattle

Nile Perch, a huge freshwater species, caught by local fishermen, is another delicacy you shouldn’t miss out on in Uganda.

Nile Perch on a motorbike.

It’s quite normal to see a man on a bicycle or motorbike with a huge fish strapped down behind him, with its nose and tail practically being dragged in the dust on either side of the back wheel.

Our next stop was a lodge in the Mabira Forest, which is home to the Western tree hyrax, Dendrohyrax dorsalis, 100s of bird and butterfly species, and of course, indigenous trees.

Warning about strange noises.

The lodge apartments are built up on poles, so you are literally looking in to the middle section of the forest. I particularly wanted to hear the scream of the Western tree hyrax, although I knew I didn’t have much chance of seeing one. The call of this hyrax species, is also weird; hearing one of these nocturnal animals would be scary, if one didn’t know what it was. Best described as a series of screams and grunts, I still think the blood curdling scream of the Southern tree hyrax found elsewhere in Africa is ‘worse’. After dinner of delicious Nile Perch, we sat in the dark on our verandah and waited.

Our verandah.

It didn’t take long before we heard them. They can throw their voices, so although they sounded like they were on the nearest tree, they were probably several hundred metres away.

Our Uganda trip was coming to an end, and our final trip was to the shores of Lake Victoria, at a public park in Kampala. The park was full of people having a great time in the beautifully maintained gardens, playing soccer, picnicking, spending family time together. For some reason, the lake had flooded, if that is the correct term, the water had jumped its shores.

A Vervet Monkey eating a mushroom.

I have no idea how that happens, as the Nile River was flowing normally, but the grass nearest the water’s edge was waterlogged, and walking in that squishy grass, was a stark reminder that we were in Africa, and Africa does have nasty diseases. We had taken prophylactics for malaria, but bilharzia, which is rife in East African waters, can only be treated after contracting it. Open sandals are not going to prevent the bilharzia larvae getting into your bloodstream, if you have any open wounds or cuts. We checked our feet properly for cuts when we got back to Red Chilly Hideaway and were glad that our bush whacking of the last week hadn’t left any sores or cuts.

My last night was spent in Entebbe, as my return flight the next day was early. The 60km drive took nearly 3 hours, even though we had left after peak traffic times. The manager at the aptly named Entebbe Airport Guesthouse insisted on waking me at 4.30 am, and serving me full breakfast before being picked up for the airport.

Spotted Hyena.

Typical Ugandan hospitality – but I still had to have my last bit of it. At the airport, I did some last-minute gift shopping, and lost track of time. The result? A lady came in person to find me, and made sure I boarded the flight.

Uganda doesn’t feature much in glossy travel magazines – articles of great holidays there, are hard to find, but if you ever have the opportunity of going, do it!