Saturday, July 19, 2008

Uganda Patrol ; Feb 2008

In the footsteps of 19th century African explorers


When the word UGANDA is mentioned, many will have memories of that country's strife after independence in July 1962 and the names Milton Apollo Obote and Idi Amin jump from the bloodied pages of history.
Happily that is not so today for since the accession to power of General Yoweri Museveni, stability of a sort has returned to the land. There are signs however that in common with most of Africa's post-colonial leaders, the incumbent now into his 22nd year of power, is turning the country into his own fiefdom and becoming increasingly intolerant of a growing awareness amongst the middle class for " change".
My first flirtation with the country came about in 2006 when I left the war torn eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) for an emergency trip to Kampala for dental treatment. What I saw, willed me to return, and in February 2008, .I winged into the country and another adventure.
The trip was planned in conjunction with two English ladies who wanted to see the mountain gorillas and chimpanzees in the wild before going on to Kenya for four nights. However the latter half of the plans was thwarted by Kenya's recent unrest so instead we added on another four nights to explore the north.
Entebbe airport, the scene of the daring raid by Israeli Para’s to free hostages taken by Amin's government in June 1976, is probably one of the finest in Africa. An efficient and a smoothly run operation is in place, and it was a breeze clearing formalities after depositing the $50 visa fee. Further paperwork was completed when I met up with Shona, a tour operator out of the top drawer, who thoughtfully provided a driver and a Nissan 4 x 4 for the entire itinerary. My companions arrived the following morning from Heathrow and we hit the road east for Jinja and the source of the Victoria Nile.
Anyone contemplating driving through Kampala should have his head read. The city is bustling chaos. Piled up traffic makes its way in all directions through the city of two million people with no adherence to the rules of the road, if there were any in the first place. Cars three abreast attempt to overtake each other, whilst 'boda boda's' (motor cycles) weave their way through the traffic and pedestrians from all directions. The absence of any kind of sign posts makes it all the more frustrating. Solid white lines are ignored. Groups of traffic police stand idly by watching the chaos without any direction or intervention. But after 3 hours after leaving the pleasant environs of Entebbe, only 30 kms away from Kampala, we emerged on the eastern edge of the city on the main road to Kenya and more hair-raising experiences. This time in the form of hurtling 'matatu's “(taxis), overloaded busses, heavy road transport all with a death wish painted on their foreheads! I will never ever complain about the taxis in South Africa again.
All this was forgotten when the Nile came into view at Owen Falls hydro electric power station. A bumpy ride down the northern bank took us to our accommodation at the Nile Porch on the banks of the river for two very pleasant nights. Dropping off the baggage, we ventured to explore the surrounding countryside in the former Kingdom of Buganda, ruled by the Kabaka. We took a circuitous route down rural tracks with intermittent views of the Nile and its tumbling waters before driving down to the Bujagali Falls, the location of a new power station currently being constructed and due to come on line in a few years time. Many local entrepreneurs approached us with offers of boat rides to the nearby islands at the bottom of the Falls (actually rapids), another who wanted money to view him climbing a pole on dry land, and yet another with a plastic 20 litre plastic jerry can who wanted to propel himself over the rapids using it as a surfboard - for a fee of course! A dangerous occupation confirmed later when I heard that a similar stunt man had died a couple of years previously performing the same feat when his head hit a submerged rock.
My interest lay in organizing a white water river expedition down the river the next day at fee of $75 per person for a 30km ride, but after inspecting the condition of the rafts and hearing that their "experienced crewmen "were no more than co-opted truck drivers and barmen, whoever was on duty and available in fact, we opted for a professional outfit run by ex Natalian John Dahl located in Jinja at a charge of $125 each.
The next day after going through the safety drills at their headquarters, we were taken under the wing of Jane, a bubbly South African lady in her early forties who has tramped around the world on her itchy feet.
Those of you who have ventured down the Zambezi at Vic Falls, try this river with its grade 3 - 5 rapids and falls. Pure exhilaration. Jane whose commendable use of the oars the size of trees, engineered the craft through and over every conceivable obstacle. One island we passed was occupied by an experienced kayaker, also from Natal, who when he is not busy paddling through other streams around the globe, lives contentedly in his modern home and guides/instructs others on the Nile with a similar passion.
Lunch was enjoyed at the Hairy Lemon, yes, an establishment on another island, with a decidedly Australian and South African flavour.
The next day we tied up our laces and headed west, unfortunately through the centre of Kampala again. However we avoided the trucks and busses on the Jinja highway by deviating north from the Owen Falls and along a not too busy road to Bukoloto, before swinging south to Gayaza and into the city – a much more preferable option.
Two hours later we had just crossed the equator when an African bee decided the flesh on my upper arm was a good target. As the sting dug deep, I knew I had half an hour to get medical help. Fortunately there was a nearby hospital off the road and armed with a vial of adrenalin, I received a life saving jab at a bush hospital at Nkozi. Swallowing down some pills, I was soon as right as rain as we continued our way south west towards Lake Mburo via the town of Masaka. En route we sadly stumbled across a road kill of an African civet, a nocturnal animal rarely seen.
We entered Lake Mburo National Park as the sun was setting after paying the proscribed park fees and completed more paperwork. A tip here is to hang onto every paper that you get in Uganda's wild life areas for somewhere; someone will ask you for the receipt. My comments on the reserve are made later in this report.
On 14th Feb it was back on the road again to the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, passing through country side which reflected the the ruins of the civil war when President Nyerere invaded Uganda to oust Amin. It was a long hard ride through Mbarara down to Ntungamo before one heads due west along the last piece of tarmac we were to see for a few days, ending at the town of Kagamba. The scenery amongst the millions of banana plantations is quite dreary. Shabby villages line up in procession, one after the other, all with singularly prominent yellow walls on shop buildings, a legacy of the phone network MTM which saturates the entire country with their receivers.
The countryside changes in appearance after Kagamba; better watered, hillier than what has already been passed through. The shadows of farm paddocks cultivated by earlier colonialists are visible. Working tea plantations climb the slopes of the hills bringing with it a more familiar world to one's eyes. Those of you who remember the eastern districts in the then Rhodesia, will be able to draw comparisons.
Finally, we arrived at the Impenetrable forest, the tale of which has been split in to two parts.
a. The gorilla trek.
b. The arrest of two illegal gorilla operators (con men) by the patrol, which forms the subject of a separate report submitted to the officials of the Ugandan Wild Life Authority (UWA) for prosecution.

The gorilla trek
Gorillas have been known to the world for centuries, the first documented occasion being when about 2000 yeas ago, Carthaginians from North Africa tried to capture some of the apes in West Africa, a bruising encounter that earned them the Carthaginian name for a 'scratcher' - gorilla.
Like many other mammals, there are different sub species. Initially known as the western and eastern lowland gorillas, it was only in 1902 when a German army officer Oscar von Berenge shot two gorillas at Mt Sabinyo that the world of science identified the 3rd sub species - the mountain gorilla giving to it its biological name " Gorilla Berengei". Or that is what I am told!
Ever diminishing forests and uncontrolled hunting has shrunk habitats alarmingly and today there are reputedly only 700 or so in the wild, concentrated in the Virunga Volcanoes (Mgahinga) and Bwindi national parks. My first encounter with these magnificent creatures was two years earlier on the summit of Mt Tshiburima in the eastern DRC with a family of four and a cutie named "Makokhiya" ("the one that greets you"). When we came upon her she beat her chest and put in several mock charges before curiosity killed the cat and she resorted to tugging at my companions army smock and dog tag. An experience never to be forgotten.
Almost to the day then, I was being briefed about the "do's and don'ts" by trained guides at the foot of a large mountain where we were to go in search of the Habinyanja family consisting of 22
members of one family group.
Here are some of the procedures.
First you purchase through the UWA or their agents a gorilla permit at their offices in Kampala. These must be obtained months in advance and the date must be set in stone when you wish to undertake this trek. You need also to forward your full name and passport number together with a staggering fee of US$500 for the privilege.
When you arrive at the park, both your permits and passports are taken to the officials who verify your identity.
They meticulously divide the party into eight people per family group of gorillas. No "extras" allowed! (There are 3 habituated families which the tourist may visit, which means a maximum of only 24 persons can undertake the journey on a single day.)
This is where the "con men" take over. All being equal, the patrols in and out of the forest are back in by 14h00 together with their guides and porters who disappear for the rest of the day. The "ïllegals" furtively approach a would-be gorilla spotter and offer to guide them in to see the apes for half the cost of the permit! Young people with limited budgets are their prey I am told. A little later I was further informed of requests by foreign nationals who have brazenly approached locals to abduct baby gorillas for export. I have no doubt that there is collusion, for how else would they know where to take the tourist?
So, after the briefing is complete, you set off with your guides and porter if you wish - the porter costing an extra $10 each, to find your own "King Kong". It’s cleverly done, for prior to the commencement of your walk, early morning guides are sent out in advance into the forest to track the apes from where they had been seen the day before.
The "modus operandi": As family groups rarely move within a km of their last location, they aren't too difficult to trace. Once spotted, the trackers radio back the information and your guide shepherds you to the spot.)
Two hours later then, after a steep, sweaty climb up a demarcated path, the radio crackles into life and you are aware that you are within 15 minutes of your quarry. You then push, cut and batter your way through the undergrowth, emerging within the midst of a quite unconcerned group of apes busily browsing and scratching away for their morning's meal.
The "silverback” was not immediately visible, but you knew where he was. Every five minutes or so, he would throw back his Neanderthal-like head, utter several penetrating whoops, and beat out a staccato on his chest.
Each gorilla in the group would respond with a low growl, acknowledging his presence, and at the same time indicating that they were in patrol formation. Fascinating, fascinating, fascinating – this oral communication amongst the family.
Now is the time to get the cameras in motion! Flashes are not allowed, so you engineer yourself through the undergrowth to get your picture, and man, do you never stop clicking during the hour or so you are allowed to be in their company. The ranger calls "time” and you make a tactical withdrawal.
Much more to tell if you want to know. On a rather more mundane note, tourist gear is available for purchase - books, caps, T shirts etc, whilst at the village outside, where crude carvings of miniature gorillas are available, there is the usual cajoling to donate for Aids victims, orphans, care centres, etc. Like my later remarks about community projects, I cynically think that this is not so, and a mere trap for the unwary.
After another morning in the park when my two companions went on a forest walk to see a waterfall with a guide whose knowledge of the flora and fauna was zero, (you cannot go anywhere without a guide it seems, except along one short river walk that I heard of), I set about setting up a trap for the two illegal operators referred to earlier.
Ishasha sunset

After lunch, done and dusted, we moved further over to the West to Ishasha, via Butogota, hoping to spot tree climbing lions on the way in. In this we were disappointed, but were rewarded with the spotting of a pride of seven sleek lions stretching and yawning lazily right by the side of the road. Hunting in the QENP cannot be difficult. It abounds with topi, Ugandan kob, warthog and other tasty morsels. What was distressing to note however is the unhindered, unrestricted growth of lantana in the region which is strangling the grazing generally both for cattle and game. While I noticed half hearted attempts by locally recruited labour to clear the verges on the badly pothole gravel road, there appear to be no attempts to divert this workforce to tackling this menace.

We pointed the vehicle north again along the lake shore and popped into a local fishing village, at Kisenyia sprawling shanty, but resplendent with a satellite TV dish pointing heavenwards from the canvas draped tin iron hut called "Salon de luxe - Video shop"
We checked the night's catch, which in the main , were pan-sized tilapia and mudfish lying on drying tables. Several fishmongers were cleaving open their bellies and removing the offal. eagerly pounced on by thousands of flies. Hungry Malibu storks, hamerkops and fish eagles strutted over or swooped down to pick up the cast-offs.. Fishermen were busy mending their nets for their next sally out on the lake, a continuous operation which has already caused irretrievable damage to the fish populations and in the Great Lakes. Whilst travelling around Uganda, we heard of George Bush's magnanimous gesture by donating mosquito nets to all children under 5 in neighbouring Tanzania,a well meaning, noble but short sighted project. Most of these nets are turned into fishing nets to scoop out minnows in breeding areas, turned into wedding dresses or used for some other purpose other than which they were intended. Its quite impossible to police their usage.

THE GREAT LAKES AND OTHER AFRICAN WATERWAYS ARE DOOMED.

After checking in at our nights accommodation, we puttered onto Mweya and the Kazinga channel, a 40km length of waterway connecting Lake George to Lake Edward. After a cursory inspection of the Mweya Safari Lodge, a pricey tourist complex, we went to water's edge to board the UWA pleasure craft on a 3 hour trip of the channel.
The boat trip which is an interesting experience for first time visitors to Africa, crosses the channel and sluggishly moves westwards towards and into the mouth of Lake Edward, taking in sights of game along the way, which have come in off the savannahs to quench their thirst.
Once the home of thousands of animals and a very vibrant and healthy elephant population, civil wars have wreaked havoc. Larger culls of hippo in Colonial times have also left their scar, but in spite of this, one can get up close to Cape buffalo, crocodiles, monitor lizards, elephant and the odd cat should it decide to put in a day time appearance.
"Twitters" will like to focus in on African spoonbills,, saddlebill stork, pink backed pelicans, kingfishers, jacanas ,skimmers, African fish eagles, craiks, squacco's, goliath heron and a host of others. Amazingly at the mouth of the channel , and in the park, a large fishing village is tolerated. Buffalo, hippo and others graze contently nearby as though some kind of understanding has been reached between kindred spirits who need to share the water. If you want to here the commentary, stay on the lower deck. There is no audio system whilst if you are feeling thirsty, take your own refreshments. Nothing is provided except a piece of cloth and cork passing for a life jacket.
The ride back to Jacana Lodge was uneventful except for the bush fire from the communal land now lapping the parks boundaries had brought in several raptors which were plucking insects out of the sky. In one case a Longcrested eagle pounced on an unsuspecting field mouse heading out of the heat zone only to die in its talons.
Comment
What was an enigma, certainly to me, were the presence in the region of several "explosion craters" which dot the area. Common sense will tell they are of volcanic origin which they are, but which are only 8,000-10, 000 years old with some still active as late as 2000BC, some centuries after Egypt's Giza pyramids were built. Some still emit sulphourous smells.
Taking the rift valley as a whole and remembering that the eruptions,rents, upheavals etc that occurred millions of years past, you can but wonder at the fiery surface just below the Earth's crust.
From a tourist's point of view, take time to visit the Kasenda craters where numerous flooded craters exist a short walk from the road, the Mwitampungu (kills birds) - a reference possibly to poisonous gas emissions from the past. Time permitting, visit the Bubyaraguru and Katwe crater areas. the former of which can be explored on a 27km long drive which winds amongst the extinct pipes/vents and includes Lake Nyamunyuka (smells of bad meat) and Lake Kitagata which is fed by hot springs. Many more.
Arm yourself before hand with a 1:50,000 land survey map before undertaking this poorly signposted route and add another day to your itinerary

Daybreak saw the party cross the equator en route to Kasese. The route was lined with cotton fields along the side of the road and a large cement factory billowing tons of dust into the atmosphere. The eastern slopes of the Rwenzori foothills ("the place from where the rain comes") could be discerned through the haze but none of its snow clad and glaciated lofty peaks unfortunately.
The guide books will tell you of the various hikes you can take through this mountain range with three peaks attaining over 5000 meters, the highest of which is Mt Margherita at 5,109 meters, which is a tad less in height than the summits of Mt Kilimanjoro and Mt Kenya .
Baker is credited as the first European who allegedly sighted them in 1864 from the shores of Lake Albert which he named the "Blue Mountains", but it was only on the return of Stanley's mission to rescue Emin Pasha from Equatoria Province in 1876, that Lieut Stairs, a Canadian born officer and a member of the expedition, made a partial ascent of the slopes, reaching 3000 meters. It was left to the Italian Duke of Abruzzi to final plant a foot on the main summits in 1906.

The following day another milestone was reached on entering the Kibali Forest (560 sq km in size housing the largest population of chimpanzees in Uganda) and trekking with 3 others in pursuit of a family of chimpanzees. The particular family singled out for our visit, was said to number over 100 individuals under control of the Alpha Male appropriately named "Mobutu."
During the briefing by the most knowledgeable UWA guide(Johnson) encountered the road , the party was told that in no way was anyone allowed to try and imitate the vocal sounds made by the troop. One soon knew the reason why, for had anyone attempted such a feat, he would have had difficulty being heard above the cacophony of these seemingly aggressive creatures Nothing like the smiling pet chimp you see on your TV screens or in the circus!! You can hear them from afar as they quarrel and hurl abuse at each other, while Mobuto from all indications when we discovered him in a glade, wasn't going to surrender his dictatorial position lightly.Many a younger member was on the receiving end of blows and cuffs administered from the king of the apes.
There was continuous chattering, screaming and movement through the forest canopy., These creatures stir a primeval instinct in the human soul.
The distinct sound of a beating drum could be heard about 500 meters away. "What is that?", I asked.
The ranger replied it was a male kicking his hind feet against the buttress roots of a tree which resonated the sound of a drum beat, another form of communication amongst the troop I marvelled.
A startling sight was a male chimp, detached from the rest, lounging on his back, uncaringly exposing himself to an amused audience!
Kibale Forest
Any further thoughts of staying were rudely interrupted when one of the chimps discovered a pantry filled with honey in the bows of a tree. The infuriated bees rose in revolution. The bees honed in,stinging several rangers who were nearest the hive.
I was the first to leave. I didn't stay to count the casualties. Other than chimps and colobus moneys on whose numbers the chimps prey and rip apart, (as they reportedly also carry out when a miscreant in the tribe is singled out for capital punishment) other animals that may be seen are forest elephant, sitatunga, blue duiker, bushbuck, civets and buffalo.
The cost of a permit to visit the chimps is US$70,00 , again, which you must purchase in Kampala before setting out.


Leaving the the lake district behind , it was again "Westerin'-Ho" to have a tyre looked at on the vehicle and a refueling stop at Fort Portal, named after Sir Gerald Portal who had never set foot in the place. Fort Portal is the seat of the Toro kingdom which for centuries has experienced conflict at the hands of neighbouring dynasty's, even up to recent times during the Amin and Obote eras.
Having completed our chores, it was about -turn through flourishing tea plantations and on the road to Lake Albert Lodge along another bush track doubling up as a main artery to the town of Hoima. How no vehicle doesn't fall apart on a day's outing on this track, is a tribute to the manufacturers.

On reaching Kabwoya, the road angled off westwards towards the lake shore and through the Budongo Forest , the largest and one of the most appealing in the country falling out of the control of the UWA. I learnt later that it is has a healthy population of primates, including chimpanzees and other creations but is heavily under threat from pasturalists, tree fellers and poachers. No-one or organization has stepped forward to arrest this ongoing destruction except in the north eastern sector (See Murchison Falls) other than a loosely formed body under the banner of the National Forest Authority (NFA) .
On reaching the plains on the eastern shores of the lake,construction camps, newly graded roads, air strips, exploration drilling sites all came within view. Not clutter one might add, but definitely the scars of man were evident on the terrain. More pleasing to the eye were herds of Ugandan kob,oribi, side striped jackal, plenty of warthog and a small herd of Jackson's hartebeest recently introduced from the Murchison National Park.Hopping along on the ground in pursuit of insects, were pairs of Abbasynian ground horn bills.
I was later to learn that this renaissance of game was due to South African born Bruce who several years previously, whilst on contractual work in Uganda had seized the opportunity to reclaim this area for nature and was granted a 20 year concession covering 200 sq km's of for this purpose by the Ugandan government

In former days, the plain had supported teeming populations of wildlife, not least the migratory route of thousands of elephants, which for reasons described elsewhere, had been decimated. Now in the space of a few short years, Bruce's endeavours have brought its reward with populations again on the increase.
But there are inherent problems with this ; grazing. Both domestic stock and wildlife compete for this commodity. One afternoon spent on a game drive, several large herds of Anchoni cattle were spotted in the park. The short term solution is to impound the beasts, and then release them back to their owners on payment of a small fine.
But the problem continues. On the day of departure, we spotted at least 1000 head of cattle in different concentrations on the plain. On questioning a herd boy who was persuaded to come to the unmarked vehicle in which I was a passenger, the boy and his companion both aged about 14 years, told me that his father had said that as there was no grazing in Rwanda, (hundreds of miles away). "Take the cattle, he said, "and find grass"
The pair had been on the road for a year!

Other herd boys similarly questioned were from within Uganda's borders but also residing a great distance away. They too had travelled miles with their stock to find grass.
However with the presence of the herders, the necessity to live off the land runs parallel with poaching. These individuals and villagers from the escarpment above resort to subsistence snaring. Bruce continually has patrols looking out for snares and traps. Over a period of 30 minutes in one glade alone, we recovered 6 cable snares and the decaying skin and tusk of a warthog still bearing the deep imprint of a circular wound around its neck. Firewood collectors chopping out the vegetation add to the nuisance.
The Lodge itself , described elsewhere, is the most homely that one can come across. Good interaction exists at every level and many an interesting wayfarer has his tale to tell at the bar at night.

Bruce has a boat on the Nile on which one can cruise to the delta at the confluence of the Victorian and Albert Nile rivers, overnighting on board with all the trimmings. An option I would definitely consider on the next patrol.

On the way out and passing a mighty volume of water (Wambabya Falls) gushing down the escarpment, we had a fleeting glimpse of a genet in pursuit of an agitated angama lizard, darting left and right in a frantic bid to avoid his pursuer. Alas, in a matter of only three seconds, the genet had his breakfast firmly clenched between its teeth.

Back on the escarpment and winding our way through felled, burnt forests and the never ending banana plantations , we reached the outskirts of Hoima.

Nothing to report at this town other than the ruins of Katasiha fort one of a chain of forts built and manned by Major Lugard's Sudanese troops in the last decade of the 19th century.

Down on the rift valley floor once more after leaving Hoima, the road into the Murchison Falls park improved in quality until eventually we arrived at the Nile Safari camp on the high banks of "the great green, greasy" Nile river.The ladies went off in search of the elusive shoebill whilst other guests who had booked in at the same time with a very voluble English guide, opted for a sundowner cruise.On their return they reported sightings of leopard, elephant, Rothschild's giraffe and other plains game

On obtaining local information, the itinerary the next day was adjusted . The patrol boarded the UWA launch at 0900 hrs, one of two daily departures, at the ferry point crossing the Nile to Paraa Lodge (home of the hippo) on the opposite bank and chugged upstream to within 600 meters of the base of the Murchison Falls.

Accreditation for the discovery of the Falls by the first European is given to Samuel Baker who happened upon this roaring cascade of water in 1864. He described the moment: 'Upon rounding a corner in our canoes,. a magnificent sight burst upon us...Rushing through a gap that cliff the rock exactly before us, the river, contracted from a grand stream, was pent up in a narrow gorge scarcely 50 yards in width (15 meters). Roaring furiously through the rock bound pass, it plunged in a single leap of about 120 feet (37 meters) perpendicular into a dark abyss below.'

We were to wait two hours before we were to gaze on this wonder. In the meantime, the craft hugged the north bank on which oodles of game were at the waters edge, bathing, wallowing, and drinking their fill. Much to be seen ; similar to that sighted earlier on the Kazinga channel but more numerous. Giant, pied, grey headed, woodland Kingfishers perched and dive-bombed into the tide. Red throated bee-eaters, Abidan storks in their thousands added to the panorama. At some points the river was nearly 1000 metes across so it was well we were close up! Beware of the tsetse fly though. Unwelcome passengers on the boat, these blighters' sting feel like a red hot poker. The bite is sensitive for days afterwards and can have lethal results.

Gradually the spray of the hidden fall came into view. Areas of foam and scud floated on the surface of the river over a large, dark deep pools guarded by armadas of basking Nile crocodiles. The guide told us of the monster Nile Perch which inhabits the deep, some reaching weights of up to 100 kgs. ( Local lore is that 160kg specimen was caught in a net some years previously)

A catastrophic action by a British official 60 years ago, lead to the introduction of this voracious carnivore into the upper waters of the river.Together with another introduced fish ,the Nile Tilapia, they subsequently found they way into lake Victoria and have eaten over 200 endemic species into extinction. In the last 35 years, cichlids have declined from 80% of vertebrate biomass to just 1%. An example of man the fore again destroying his environment!

All this was forgotten when the cascade leapt into view.It was exactly as Baker had described it. The whirring and clicking of cameras took precedence. All the tourists on the base of a rock in the middle of the river.

Regrettably, the boat weighed anchor and drifted for another hour down the current to the mooring blocks from we we disembarked and made our way to Paraa board zeroed into get the best shots from the decks of the boat nudged into lodge (the home of the hippo) on the north bank for a refreshment. If you want an African experience, this up-market lodge is not for you. It reminded me of a rabbit warren To be sure, everything is available that the visitor could want but it doesn't blend with the environment. A dismissive,arrogant clerk at the foreign exchange desk definitely needs a lesson in courteous behaviour as one of my guests will testify. The only discordant note from a Ugandan on the entire trip.

Time was against the party from enjoying a full game drive on the north bank where most of Murchison's game is concentrated. The ferry's arrival and departure times dictate this. To accommodate the wish of the tour to visit the upper platforms of the Falls, an hour only was spent searching for animals. Rothschild's giraffe, elephant, lion,oribi were all there, but alas, no northern white rhino which were shot out years ago. Numbers of game were badly depleted, again, from the civil wars and a surfeit of automatic weapons, but happily is on the increase.

After disemarbarkation from the ferry on the south bank, a quick stop was made at the Red Chilli Hideaway for a bite to eat, an establishment which will suit the back packer offering reasonably priced packages and accommodation.

The road to the top of the Murchison Falls was an hour away and a must for any traveller to complete the full Falls experience. The entrance gate was un-manned so we parked off in a parking bay and picked up the inevitable lurking "guide" and hived off down the footpath. The most impressive view is on the edge of the first drop where huge volumes of water ricochet off the narrow, solid rock face, shaking it to its very foundations. Because of the closeness that one can get to this seething, angry torrent, (once spanned by a footbridge,washed away and never replaced) it's a better experience than the Victoria Falls for the kind of stupour and total oblivion which overcomes one.
Dragged away from this awesome, unrivalled sight, we climbed higher and had our first view of the equally strong but not as impressive,Uhuru falls on the right bank of the river which is divided from its neighbour by an island in-between both steams and which meet up at the lower terraces and make the Nile one river again. The incredible power of water
Murchison Falls
One can spend a day here watching the spray and swirls of the river.Combined with the movement of the Earth around the sun, rays of light probe dark fissures below, the shimmering rainbows changing in colour and description every minute.

The day was ending at its normal time of 18h30 on the equator when we moved into our accommodation and a good night in the moonlit African bush.

The last day in Uganda was a a bit of an anti climax, though contrary to what I said earlier about the Budongo forest not having any established facility, a tourist centre has been carved out at the Kanio Pabidi complex in the north east of the Murchison park and is ably handled by the Jane Goodall Institute. A one hour guided chimp and birding trail can be undertaken at half the cost one pays at the Kibale Forest reserve. An alternative is a 5 -10 hour chimp trail at US$100,00 a person where one can spend a leisurely day with habituated chimps.

The guide brochure will tell you that you can also see over 465 plant species including giant mahogany trees over 60m tall and over 300 years old. Of the 366 bird species that have been recorded (including the seldom seen purvel's illadopsis) , several are endemic to the area.Basic but comfortable dormitory or cabin en suite accommodation is offered together with a kitchen and refreshment outlet

At 20h00 after reaching Kampala once more, 280kms away from the Murchison park, farewells were exchanged at the airport.all left with our own thoughts considering our next epoch on the dark continent.
Who knows? - The Fish River Canyon in Namibia, the Wild coast hike in the Transkei, Mount Mlanje in Malawi, the Nyika Plateau and the hike to the source of the Luangwa, the source Blue Nile in Ethiopia. Mt Elgon, The Selous ; there are no signposts and no final destinations.



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Other information which the reader who is contemplating a trip to Uganda might find useful, follows hereunder



Hotels, Lodges, camps etc offering accommodation.


There is a galaxy of places where one can lay down one's head in Uganda, ranging from the opulent, very good, fair and humble in this emerald land. Comment can only be offered on the experiences of the above patrol who overnighted in places both from very good, to bad. Notes have been made on each with a subsequent grading of 1 - 5.
Grade 5: Excellent.
Grade 4: Very good.
Grade.3: Good.
Grade 2: Fair.
Grade 1: Poor.
The assessments here break away from what you see in the advertising brochures and the normally sickly comments you see in the accommodation "Remarks" columns posted at receptions, and which I don't think are ever read, and which are usually contain traveller's platitudes in a hurry to get on their way and make no waves, instead of addressing the real issues to put operators on their toes.
These assessments are purely mine and that of my party and are in no way to be seen as negative or destructive as it may appear in some cases. It's tempered by our experiences and knowledge gleaned from personal interaction and where credit or failure is due, it is reflected in the overall rating backed up by personal impressions.

Boma Hotel, Entebbe : Grade 2.
Conveniently situated close to Entebbe airport, the old style colonial building offers basic to average accommodation in what is essentially a night stop. Neat lawns and high walls surround the property which offers no activities within its boundaries, supplies a basic bed, fan and hot shower when the power is on. Reasonably priced meals are served off an "a la carte menu" on an outside verandah, basic, though well prepared from behind a serving bar off the lounge, whilst only one TV set in a communal lounge is available if you want to stay in touch with world affairs.
The establishment scores points for its informal Irish atmosphere and friendliness and a regular shuttle to and from the airport at no extra cost.
A better deal still in my opinion, is their nearby cottages – far more roomy, fit for a family where one can in indulge in self-catering with basic facilities being provided. TV’s are available but to get them to initiate a connection takes some persuading!

The Porch, Nile River, Jinja. Grade 3
A lively, funky spot perched on the high banks of the Nile with breathtaking views of the steaming, surging Nile River 30 meters below. Caters for the young and old alike with an outside bar catering mainly for the rafting community, camping spots and shady en suite tents away from the dining room complex overlooking the river. A clean sparkling swimming pool supplements the complex, very welcome on a summer’s day!
Management generally is erratic, though to be fair, a foreign stand-in was on duty who was not too familiar with handling his staff and worked to English union rules. Staff like most places encountered in the country, are helpful and courteous. As a general comment, anything out of the ordinary which you may require, deal through management however. If you wish to contact the outside world, a 24 hour internet service is available at no charge to resident guests.
The surrounding areas need exploring. Other than what is already mentioned about the entertainments on show at the Bujagali Falls, curios of a limited nature are on sale outside the entrance, quad biking, kayaking and horse riding too are on the list at neighbouring establishments. Try Mama Joyce's tuck shop, a wooden shack, meters away and enjoy a tender steak washed down by a Club or Nile lager, the two most popular brews on sale throughout the country.

Mhingo Lodge, Lake Mburo National Park: Grade 4.
Arriving here, after a long haul through Kampala again unfortunately, this superbly constructed lodge nestles commanding a view of the surrounding plains. One of the best management teams in the country greeted the patrol at the finish line. Headed by Dom and Kate whose are English and experienced in the travelling and catering industry, the short stay was an unbridled success. Everything works. The luxurious en suite tented accommodation is discreetly tucked away in coves that jut into the hillside. Large spacious rooms are completely protected by gauze netting "with views from the loo and bathroom".
Highly recommended.

Besides the lodge, accommodation within the park can also be obtained at the upmarket Matana Tented camp and the budget conscious Rwonjo rest camp which was not visited by the patrol, whilst activities include guided nature walks and a launch trip on Lake Mburo. The variety of game is limited. Burchell's Zebra, bush buck, klipspringer, eland, topi, Defessa waterbuck, etc exist, but I suspect that poaching predates the game. Judging by the free ranging cattle from neighbouring settlements, who are followed by their herders one can always suspect that the opportunity is not missed to add that little bit extra to the pot.
Like many other parks Africa wide "community partnerships" exist on a paper where a common interest is allegedly shared and a percentage of the entry fees accrue to the "land owners", but I have rarely seen any of those so-called funds being channeled back into the communities! When the issue is raised, the usual stories of schools, health care are punted, but I suspect that "big brother" gains a fair slice of the cake. The lake has populations of crocodile and hippo, whilst birdlife is prolific. Pelicans and fish eagles may be spotted. A small piece of tropical indigenous forest exists. A convenient half way stop to the Bwindi Impenetrable forest and worthy of further exploration.

Buhoma Forest Lodge, Bwindi Impenetrable Forest. Grade 2-3.
The road from Mburo to Buhoma Forest Lodge is a maze of inter connecting highways, byways and tracks. It takes an experienced bushranger like our driver Abdu to pick his way around the potholes on what still exists of the metal road south to the Rwandan and Congo borders, down dirt tracks, past cumbersome transport, knowing exactly where to stop for pit stops and stretch the odd bone or six! Sign posts are almost extinct, and but for this ability to navigate like a homing pigeon, one could not expect to make your destination the same day.
But we did and after going through the exhaustive paper work (again) at the park's border, the start point of our trek was finally reached.

Again, friendly, efficient front office staff made their presence known and ushered the party to separate bungalows above the main living area to comfortable accommodation set in against a backdrop of indigenous trees."Take a rest", was the invitation, but this was hardly the case! The quarters occupied were closest to the kitchen from where a never ending babble and banging emanated way beyond closing time and starting again at 05h00 the next day. A comment was made to the Dutch-born manager who responded that he had never received a complaint of this nature before! That was that! He saw it as a complaint, nothing was done, and he wasn't seen again for the remainder of the two night stay.

The food fare was plain and scarce, one of the guests being served with a share of chicken offal which put her off that dish for the rest of the tour. Dining room service was not up to scratch whose staff insisted on putting red hot burning braziers close to the tables on a warm and temperate night. Again, lack of training or understanding was evident. It was a robotic instinct no doubt.

It’s a pity that no planning went into sitting this and other lodges/camp sites within and out of the park. In the immediate environs it has a tired look with shack settlement on its doorstep. The ageing infrastructure of the Ugandan Wild Life Authority also needs attention if it is to provide the magnet for tours into the forest.

Report on the gorilla trekking and other remarks are in the main body of this report.
Grading on Buhoma borders on between 2 and 3. Recommended if one can get accommodation further away from the main building or something is done regarding the hubbub from the kitchen and more involved management overall.

Ishasha Wilderness Camp - Queen Elizabeth National Park (QENP) Grade 4.
What a delightful spot on the banks of the Ntungwe stream flowing into Lake Edward. This is the sort of oasis with all the trimmings that Ernest Hemmingway would have mused on in his subsequent novels had he gone to Uganda.
Again, tented, somewhat dark interior, (although helped by solar lighting), en suite accommodation is the designers choice.
All of the 8 tents are thoughtfully situated on the banks of a meandering stream in the dry season, but probably a raging torrent in the wet.(above) which is balm for the soul. Scores of black weavers nesting in the trees line the banks. Add this to the clamour of Africa's sounds. Hippo’s grunts, unseen elephant trumpet calls, olive baboons which shriek and bark nearby and the eerie calls of hyena later in the evening all provide the orchestra.
En route from Bwindi, QENP was entered from the south via Butugota along a heavily rutted and potholed road by DRC bound transport churning up the main QENP road in their bid to reach Ishasha town and the border-crossing. Progress was slow. (see main report above).

The camp staff was as busy as a hive of bees bringing hot water to the bucket showers which provide refreshment at the end and/or the beginning of the day. The local chef, and I believe, manager, were most obliging, prepared to do anything and everything. Breakfast with a golden egg and not the supermarket variety was a discovery....!
Top marks. This will definitely be a place to stay that I will recommend to all that I come into contact.

Jacana Safari Lodge. QENPGrade 2.
The approach to this Lodge down a single lane gravel road with the Rift valley escarpment towering to your left above, it’s a paradise. Here both communal grazing lands and the park meet on an undefined boundary.

13kms later after leaving the main eastern highway from Kampala through to the DRC, you enter the Maramagambo forest and arrive at the gates of the Jacana Safari Lodge pinpointed on the largest of the crater lakes in the region A board advertises "forest walks, crater walks, bat caves, river cruises. Dinner on a boat served in the centre of the lake at an extra $30 a head, etc" but no one explains who, what, why and when. An Indian manager hurried us through the paperwork and was never to be seen again. No enthusiasm here!

A staff employee named Robert Mugabe, no less, took over and did the best he could to settle the party in. We got on famously subsequently when he confided that he never mentioned his surname to customers who frowned on his second name when he did mention it, and preferred to call himself merely "Robert" I exchanged many Shona (Zimbabwean) words with him subsequently.

Wooden bungalows provide the setting overlooking the lake, a still, silent, foreboding piece of water with an untold history, and once again the stained dark woods of the lodge didn't make it easier to navigate one's way around, particularly in the rooms. One definitely needs a torch which is not provided.

Notwithstanding, local Ugandan helpfulness, but limited vision, absolved itself into what was a pleasant interlude. The night was noisy in the forest - wonderful, that's what you would expect, and the food was of sufficient quality and quantity.

A sauna is offered but on-one thought of turning it on, so instead one contended the evening in a deliciously cool and well constructed pool with views of the fading sun through the February haze.

Luke warm recommendation, use it if only Mweya Lodge on the Kazinga channel in QENP is unavailable. If there is something better, I did not discover it.
It lacks the touch of personal warmth and supervision. Itinerant staff, possibly yet again, bedevils what could be a vibrant spot in which to stay.

Ndali Lodge- Fort Portal: Grade 1.

The advertising banner for this lodge situated on the lip of an explosive crater filled with water, grandly proclaims "Paradise has some serious competition"!
That it might have been once, but it certainly is not that today. Mind you, from its magnificent vantage point on a clear day overlooking another "explosive lake" and the Rwenzori Mountains, there is no denying the views that "might have been”. Unfortunately the February haze spoilt the view.

But first, Ndali Lodge needs a complete face lift. To start with, it has to get rid of the pack of mangy, worm infested defecating curs whose landmines litter the landscape, and whose presence on chairs inside the lodge and under the dining room tables are an irritant Couple this to their night-time howling at the moon and you will know that this unwelcome addition doesn't come even close to tranquility!

The swimming pool suggests the presence of waterborne diseases, the main building generally reeks of decay (unpolished floors, dirty walls, dog hairs, mud, broken porch timbers, etc) whilst the patchy "lawn" and hedges need trimming. Better lighting in the (also dirty) rooms and a regular hot water supply supply is another matter which is of concern.
Don't try showering in the morning if you want a hot shower.” the askari's did not light the fires", is the weak explanation of the untrained and unconcerned management when asked why this was the case! The cheerful, charismatic owner who we met once after gaining access to the rooms, only cleared in mid-afternoon from its previous occupants, was rarely to be seen.

The only reason why this "lodge: rates a grade 1 rating is because of the excellent food served up by its chef. I shudder to think what the interior of the kitchen looked like through its creaky dining room door if it was like the rest of "paradise".
Over priced and not recommended.

If there is a standard of rating lodges up there, this operation should be suspended.

Lake Albert Lodge - Grade 4.

A place well worth a sojourn reached by road and by air, which rates as "top class" providing a basic cuisine in rather cramped conditions. A huge extension with a sun deck overlooking Lake Albert to the west is presently being constructed will alleviate this problem as I write.

Well-appointed, en suite, roomy "African" designed tent sites whose lights and heated water are supplied by solar heating, have used using local materials in their construction on a sand cliff over looking Lake Albert.

The Lodge is supplemented by a small but cool swimming pool next to a convivial bar. A great place to be at the closing of the day.The lodge offers game drives in a growing, flourishing environment which is being resuscitated after years of serious poaching and overgrazing. A determined management is in place to make sure it happens.

Its drawback is access down the cliff to the water’s edge where changing tides have eroded what was once a pleasant beach to visit I am informed. Boat trips out on the lake are on the cards.

Plans are afoot to import the vanished forest hog, rhinos and eventually the elephant so mercilessly shot out by earlier by the "mzungus" (European) big game hunters, will be persuaded to return from the nearby Budongo Forest Reserve. Said to be the largest partially unspoilt tropical forest in the country it houses a minuscule herd of 15 elephants I am told amongst numerous unrecorded primates.

A blight to this scenario however, might be in the presence of oil drilling companies who have decided that the lake bed of Lake Albert might have huge quantities of black gold to supply a voracious world looking to maintain energy supplies.Already roads, camps, rigs, exploration craft with their seismic equipment have penetrated this wilderness. What is to follow?
Highly recommended. A piece of true African wilderness and discovery.

Nile Safari Lodge - Murchison Falls National Park Grade 2.

This Lodge falls within the same stable of Jacana Lodge commented on earlier. Reached by a rutted bush road from the direction we came down the rift valley from Hoima, this spot has a very pleasant location overlooking the Nile flow on its way to meet up with the Albert Nile at the delta further west. It was passed by "Chinese Gordon" in 1876 and certainly other adventurers of the time.

The staff again was its high point within the limits of what they could provide, which is again refueling the quaint hot water bucket showers outside each room. The rose-bud heads on some of them merely tickled out droplets and within thirty seconds, the bucket was empty! Again the interiors were painfully dark and electric light limited, whilst management again was lacking. The shower closets were dank and badly aired and one got the impression that standing on the rubber mats in the showers could lead to a fungal infection. The pathways leading to the cabins are in need of repair. Hardly a single cement flagstone was chipped and broken, whilst if you miss your step on the paving, beware of all the loose pebbles clustered in against their edges.

The sparkling swimming pool provided a good respite for the hot summer afternoon. The menu was generally good. A point that should be mentioned, and in keeping with most other establishments, is that if you don't like what is on the menu, staff will willingly prepare you do something else. Try the tilapia (bream) or Nile perch!

Bird and other wild life dot the banks of the river - a herd of elephants came down to drink at midday and a river patrol with sundowner guests spotted a leopard. Most sought after though was the elusive shoebill, said to populate the delta regions, where unfortunately, oil seeps are being examined for exploitation.

Sambiya River Lodge, Murchison Falls National ParkGrade 3.

After leaving Nile Safari Camp the patrol embarked on the UWA motorized trip to the base of the Murchison Falls and later the top of the Falls to be dealt with in the main report. The above resort was reached in the evening - yes, we had full days; and which reminded me of the sprawling type of lodges I once knew on the banks of Kariba Lake and the Zambezi River, though there was no water here!

Instead park like, grassy surroundings dotted the landscape with numerous acacia trees spread out before one's eyes, fresh, green and strong. An American lady and her Kenyan husband Mr Malik, ushered us through the formalities. I thereafter departed to the front porch and sunken bar with Mr. Malik the owner, and had a lively and educational discussion about the country generally, a great "fill up" to the rather rusty computer in my head. The lodge has all the amenities needed to keep one comfortable with good food, cold beer and that African bush feeling. The only blip on the screen being to try and get the lady at reception to attend to a few outstanding issues in the rooms (which thankfully had roof fans), who appeared the next morning in the dining room in her dressing grown!

The scented night air was made more interesting by the melodious drumming, strumming and singing of local musicians who entertained the patrons until the early hours, providing some competition to the nocturnal grunts and shrieks of the animals who brought on the second act!

Not 20 minutes drive away from the top of the Murchison Falls; a good spot to retire to for a night or two and close to a bird and chimpanzee sanctuary which has just come into operation under the ambit of the Jane Goodall Foundation.
Recommended.

Early European explorers and adventurers.

An examination of the books and the maps of the 19th and early 20th century will reveal a hall of fame of persons who left their footprints, and sometimes their bodies in this land that Winston Churchill called the "Pearl of Africa" after he visited the country in 1907.
In no particular order or dates, names of European explorers who traversed the terrain include Henry Morton Stanley who circumnavigated Lake Victoria in 1875, John Hanning Speke who discovered the source of the Victoria Nile in 1862, Emin Pasha, Samuel and his Transylvanian wife, Florence Baker nee Von Sass, (who was offered for sale and purchased as a teenager from a Hungarian slave market by her husband to-be), James Grant, General "Chinese" Gordon, Fishbourne, Junker, Evatt, Vandeleur, Frederick Lugard, Bell, McGregor, the Duke of Abruzzi, Owen, Haldane, Grogan, Kandt, Bishop James Hannington who was murdered in October 1885, Winston Churchill, Theodore Roosevelt and many more.

What they saw and marvelled at, included Ptolemy's fabled "Mountains of the Moon" (The Rwenzori's). Lakes Albert (Luta Nzige) – currently being drilled for oil; George and Edward, primeval forests, the Murchison Falls, Mt Elgon with the largest calderas in the world, the Sesse islands in Lake Victoria and much more.
Over and above the extraordinary geographical and botanical discoveries made by these men, probably the most significant of all was the fixing of the new countries’ boundaries by Major Frederick Lugard. It was he who after being drawn into conflict and pacifying the warlike tribes in the west, brought to the attention of Her Majesty's government the need to secure the land against the rapacious King Leopold of Belgian and other foreign interests, the cracks of which he honeyed over by a need of Christian endeavour to contain tribal massacres and slavery. Overwhelming public British sympathy became a national issue and the government was forced to act. An appraisal by the Zanzibarian-based Sir Gerald Portal after whom the town of Fort Portal was subsequently named, resulted in Queen Victoria adding the country to her Domains in 1894.
Subsequent to this, and by a series of bewildering ordnances, huge parts of the territory were sliced off to the north, north west, and east respectively over the next 32 years to form part of modern-day Sudan, Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) and Kenya respectively. The only addition to Uganda's borders, being the south west corner of the country taken from the Congo and German East Africa, the latter land-grab being ordained by the Brussels convention of 1910.

General Info for the traveller.

The Ugandan shilling currently trades at 1720/- to US$1. Change your currency in the main centres, preferably at the airport.
$100 and $50 bills extract a better exchange rate than do smaller denominations.If you have US$ notes, make sure there are no "tears"on the paper and that the issue date is post 2003. A curious feature in rural areas is that every note you tender is examined for this crucial piece of info. If the date of issue falls outside this ambit, it can be rejected
Lodges, game parks etc will bill you either in shillings or in US$.
Travellers cheques are reluctantly accepted at major resorts, but at a huge discount disadvantageous to the seller.
Euro's and sterling are not readily accepted yet.
Major credit cards are accepted in some places, but are best used at ATM's if they are working.
You will pay a $50 visa fee on arrival. Certain African countries bordering Uganda are exempted from this nuisance. There is no departure tax.
Carefully examine your notes when offering payment, the number of "noughts" on the bank notes which range from 1000/- through to 50 000/- can confuse you.
You need a yellow fever vaccination certificate both on entry and at your point (country) of return.
Other vaccinations are optional but Hepatitis A and Tetanus are recommended.
Fuel sells at about 2500/- a litre. It varies fractionally from place to place. There is not much difference between the price of diesel and petrol.
Prepare yourself for power outages. The grid can be erratic.
Tipping. There is no shortage of tipping boxes around the country! Tipping is generally communal and not on an individual basis. Tip only for good or knowledgeable service.
Refreshments. Costs of cool drinks (soda's) and beer vary from place to place. The Lodges charge anything from 2000/- to 3500/- for a 500ml bottle of beer and 2000/- plus for a cold drink, though realistically this shouldn't be more than 1000/-.
Drink only bottled water. Also use same when brushing your teeth. Lodges provide this automatically in your rooms. If you use ice again the same precautions apply. Vegetables and fruit are in plentiful supply, but wash with bottled water before you eat it.
Most Ugandans speak good English and are very helpful. Violent crime is at a minimum compared to other countries in Africa, but always carry your valuables with you if not locked up in a safe!
Essential reading: "Uganda's Great Rift Valley" by Andrew Roberts from where some of the information in this report has been extracted.
"The Blue Nile" - by Alan Moorhead - also "The White Nile" by the same author.
Weather: Uganda straddles the equator and is generally mild all year round except in the river valleys where temperatures can climb to over 40 degrees celcius. It as two rainy seasons. March/May and Nov/Dec when heavy rains fall. It can rain intermittently all year though.

Although the above patrol was conducted in a vehicle staying at Lodges en route, there are other options, camping being a particular favourite with Canadians, American and Australian citizens. In a practice not be advised, I observed a group of mature tourists who had hired a taxi in Kampala to bring them to the Murchison Falls. Although this was probably worked out as a negotiated price favourable to the passenger, there is no guarantee of any insurances being paid out due to death or injury or of any highjacking which may occur along the route. Other fellow travellers I met opted for public transport, but this is erratic in the extreme and you may wait hours or even days for a connection.
I did however meet up with one camping/banda operation who will offer you three nights from Kampala to Murchison and back, plus park fees and accommodation for US$180 pp per night. Definitely an option for the budget conscious!
Conclusion: Go to Uganda! It's an experience. Like all destinations, difficulties will be encountered. Tourism generally is in a fledgling state and standards are nothing like you would expect in the 1st world. But that’s part of the fun. On a scale of 1 to 10, I rate Uganda as a 7, boosted primarily due to its friendliness and helpfulness. You will hear the clarion call wherever you go "You are WELCOME!" Get used to it. They mean it!

This tour can be combined with other options - hiking the Rwenzori's, Mt Elgon or both if you are an avid hiker/birder/kayaker/adventurer etc .Tailor-made tours can be made to suit all pockets and all ages.
Several good, efficient, reliable operators offer their services.
I was lucky and found one!

Malawi Patrol - Chapter 6

Memories Are Made Of This

In the years to come (and may there be many) I shall look back on the Malawi Patrol. Time of course adds its own patina that will emphasise certain (more pleasant?) aspects while dulling others; some memories or thoughts will have disappeared altogether. This means that now, a few weeks after flying back from Malawi, is the right time to get down in writing about those aspects not covered up to now.

My most abiding recollection would always be that feeling of relaxation that overtook me about an hour after the ‘plane from Johannesburg to Chileka airport (Blantyre). Customs and immigration had been successfully negotiated to a background one-note beat of rubber stamps striking passports and other documents. Outside the airport buildings, while waiting for our car, I mentioned to Paul this feeling of relaxation, a lessening of tension about me. He, too, was experiencing it and knew the reason. We were out of South Africa and its oppressive need for security, the constant awareness of security guards, the high walls, and the obvious alarm systems. There were some, of course, but you had to look more carefully than was our wont. Of course there was crime, but largely of a petty nature; serious, vicious crime a la South Africa there was not beyond what might be termed the expected average. Back packers, singly or in groups, male, female and mixed, were much in evidence around the tourist attractions and their unwinding presence was surely a good benchmark.

Overnight accommodation generally speaking was not too bad, although poorly trained staff were in evidence at some; Mumbo Island and Mvuu Camp were the exceptions but management there had paid much attention to how their staff dealt with visitors. Having to wait an hour and forty minutes at one establishment for two toasted sandwiches, and Paul and I were the only customers, was more indicative than unusual.

At one quite delightful overnight stop, the Chintheche Inn, the accommodation and cuisine could not be faulted. Dinner that night was taken at a table laid out on a grassy area overlooking southern Lake Malawi. Absolutely ideal: stars littered the heavens, a moon lit up the lake waters and there were no mosquitoes. Two young black boys waited on and as long as they were not deviated from their normal duties all went well.

The meal was steak and so Paul asked for mustard. Confusion; both went off to the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with a tin of powdered mustard, which was placed on the table with great solemnity. Paul looked at the tin, the boys looked at Paul. He patiently explained that the powder needed to be mixed with water. Off went the lads once more, taking the tin of mustard with them. Back they came; no mustard but a small container of water. Paul, showing enormous patience, explained as best he could that the mustard and the water first had to be mixed. Away went the lads again, taking both the mustard and water with them, returning a few minutes later with neither.

Clearly, a battle of differing comprehensions was about to take place. Paul did his best to clear matters up; off went the lads again, this time returning once more with the mustard and the water, unmixed. Side by side they both sat; Paul admitted defeat, the lads took the mustard and water away again, baffled by the sometimes odd ways of visitors.

Another establishment, The Wheelhouse at Salima (again at the southern end of the lake) on the penultimate night of The Patrol before being stood down, supplied the weirdest experience. The wheelhouse itself was an ingenious bar, octagonal-shaped (or something like that) reached by a walkway out into a bay edged by a reef-lined beach; a guide book mentions it as a location high in risk of bilharzias!

Accommodation was fairly basic, consisting of several buildings in which one either went upstairs or downstairs, along darkened corridors into bedrooms of great simplicity where electric light bulbs were mementoes of days when they were worked by switches that nowadays didn’t always operate


Seclusion from the sun

Everywhere you walked made the buildings sound sort of hollow; there were no other guests as far I could work out. A maid drifted in and out, grinned and walked in and out further along a darkening corridor. The whole set up was quite weird, rather like a modern times Castle Dracula.

Paul, doubtless thinking of The Report and the endless opportunities I might seize to tumble down stairs, contacted the management and had me shifted to a beachside cottage. Much more pleasant, except that the famine of functional light bulbs continued. The drifting-in-and-out maid suddenly and silently turned up and placed a bedside lamp in my room, as well as an electric fan to shift the humid air about a bit. She gave me a shy smile and then disappeared; she never spoke a word and I never set eyes on her again.

Time for a shower; no water. Turned on the one tap in the hand basin; again no water but as if by magic or sudden release from their pipe-like dungeon, small black ants came in columns of route (a military term!) down the tap to vanish down the plug hole. Turned the tap off; the parade of ants ceased. Waited for a couple of minutes, turned the tap on, down came the ants and into the plug hole. The reserve of ants must have been enormous. To amuse myself while waiting for Paul to return from some Patrol mission I would turn the tap on and off at intervals; the ants always appeared, bang on cue.

Later on, in the bar, I mentioned to the barman about the water shortage in my accommodation. Looking wise, he ventured the opinion that the water had been cut off. I whispered that I could only agree, having already reached the same diagnosis. Barman promised to look into the matter and, in due course of time, the water ran once more. Later that night, back in my room, I turned on the tap and flushed out the ants, wishing them well on their journey.

Over a couple of ‘greens’ Paul and I discussed The Wheelhouse and came to the conclusion that the fault lay with the management rather than the staff, with the staff in second place.

Other memories. One has to be the men crouched by roadsides chipping away at piles of boulders. This was evidence of the cheapness and availability of labour. Stone aggregate was in heavy demand for the road works passed on several occasions. It was far cheaper to hire such labour than hire expensive heavy plant to do the same task. At other places we passed piles of different coloured stones, crushed by hand into the smallest possible chips. Some of the piles were brilliant white, others the colour of sand, some black. For once Paul was stuck for an explanation. Stopping by a gathering of these piles he asked a young man in charge the reason for them and was told they would eventually end up in the main as decoration in a mosque. Parts of Malawi have a strong Muslim presence (primarily in the converted Yao tribe), evidenced by the numbers of mosques passed in our journeyings.

Heading up into the mountains or skirting around them provided scenic and often quite spectacular changes to the lakeside idylls of local communities, holiday resorts and miles and miles of golden beaches.

Mountains give a sense of security, set boundaries and horizons; they can provide comfort and a challenge. The Mulanje Massif rears up from the Phalombe Plain south of Blantyre and emphasizes its dominance by the number of peaks of over 8,000 feet, some twenty of them. One towers above them all, the majestic and awesome Sapitwa reaching over 9,600 feet, the highest in central Africa. The whole area of the massif is covered by a variety of vegetation pierced by deeply wooded ravines or denied a footing by great faces of granite outbursts. Mulanje is a haven for the walker, the climber, the bird watchers and those seeking wildlife. Too inaccessible for the car, our Patrol Report would have to show that we followed the roads down on the plain, but that didn’t mean we could not appreciate the wonder of this Nature’s vast playground.

Another quite similar area was the Zomba Plateau, northwards of Mulanje but allowing cars reasonable access to the higher parts. Again vegetation reigns almost supreme, with the familiar woodlands and extensive pine plantations. The plateau takes its name from the town of Zomba, a fading colonial outpost that was the country’s capital before Lilongwe took over the honour in 1975.

SS Empress - lake transport of the past


A rotting floating flotilla

Climbing up towards the plateau is to run the gauntlet of small groups of boys selling fruits of many kinds, souvenirs and quartz of different cuts and hues. While persistent in their efforts they were quite cheerful in their approach and most did not have the belligerence of their more sophisticated cousins to be found almost anywhere. The souvenir carvings were good, well executed, nicely finished off and, after much hard but friendly bargaining, reasonable in price.

However outshining these sellers in their efforts to earn some income were the dozens of boys pushing their bikes down from the upper reaches of the plateau. They could hardly ride them since every inch of metal that could bear the load was covered by cut logs. Those logs must have formed a dangerous burden; Paul was certain that in past years some of those boys actually rode their machines down, but the practice seemingly has ceased now for mounted on such a heavily loaded bike must have sent machine and rider hurtling down the hills, sweeping round bends that could have caused nasty accidents.

Once there was a dark side to the Zomba area. Back in the 19th century there was an extensive traffic in slaves, when blacks raided blacks, the prisoners being sold on into the slave markets run by the Omani Arabs. European minds tend to think of the slave trade as the trafficking in African blacks by Europeans, exporting them across the Atlantic into the West Indies and the United States. When that trade route was closed down, the movement of black prisoners reversed, going eastwards to Zanzibar instead of the New World westwards.

Several hours was spent on the shores of Lake Malawi at the rundown town of Nkhotakota where unspoken memory still haunts of the evil trade in human flesh. Here at the biggest slave market on the lake, the captured blacks were herded together to be transported and marched to Zanzibar; most would never survive the journey. Estimates show that out of every 300 despatched, it was not that remarkable that at times only 20 still lived after the terrible journey. Profits were fantastic which perhaps explains why such heavy wastage of lives was countenanced by the slave traders.

A cloud of Lake Flies in the distance

David Livingstone came to Nkhotakota in 1861 and discovered the area as an abode of wickedness and lawlessness, ‘literally strewn with human bones and putrid bodies’. The explorer and the local chief Jumbe, with other chiefs, sat beneath a large fig tree (still standing) and tried to get them to enter into a treaty to put a stop to the trade. Livingstone failed in his attempt and the brutal business did not cease until the mid-1890 when, under the British Commissioner, Harry Johnston, finally got Jumbe to agree to cessation.

Only echo and suggestion bear witness to Nkhotakota’s dreadful past, that and the air of general listlessness. Where once slaves were bundled on to vessels to make the journey across the lake and then onwards, there is a crumbling, rickety-looking jetty, still in use for casual shipping. On the shore stands the once handsome port building, also going the way of so many in the state of Malawi.

A more positive step in historical progress stands not too far from the fig tree. This is St. Anne’s church, focal point of the mission, in which lie the remains of Chauncey Maples, first bishop of Likoma, drowned in Lake Malawi on his way to take up his duties. This was very much Paul’s territory and we spent some time exploring, reading various plaques and taking photographs.

Malawi is a beautiful country, dominated by the great lake, the wide spread of woodlands and the towering mountain ranges. Serving as counterpoints and emphasis were the sprawls of the sugar and tea plantations, boundless acres of commercial enterprise and orderliness; Malawi is not only beautiful but bounteous, if treated properly.

Of the people met, a few have remained in memory’s sight. One was an 82-years old fisherman, black as ebony, long fishing spear in hand, trekking along a dusty road to his favourite fishing spot. Paul and he chatted for a while, agreeing that fishing was not what it was (the world anthem of all fishermen). Then there the two young boys, goatherds, who solemnly refused to come any closer when I asked them to, just to get a better picture. Not that they were averse to being photographed, one suspects rather they feared abduction. Never to be forgotten are the two waiter boys for whom the mysteries of making mustard would ever remain a closed book, a white man’s oddity. Not speaking the language meant I could not fully engage with those I met; Paul on the other hand fell into conversation almost at the drop of a hat, usually good humoured and with much accompanying laughter.


Evening Interlude - lessons in mustard making

For a couple of nights we stayed at the home of a tobacco farmer and his wife, David and Yvonne Lewis. Their home was a big, rather rambling house full of memories and redolent of that other influence on the country of Malawi, its colonial past. Those days have gone, of course, but here we had its good side: a large commercial undertaking that provided income, employment and, carefully nourished, two ways of life that could be of mutual benefit. Maybe not perfect, of course, but then what is.

Here Paul and David spoke of the past, of military times (David, like Paul, a former Army officer), anecdotes, characters and long ago wars almost forgotten. David produced albums of old photographs, some back into the 19th century; pictures of Isandlwana, Spioen Kop, soldiers on parade, Boer farmers in a mounted hunting party, a Zulu wedding group. Groups of officers, the more senior sitting their juniors standing and all dressed in their regimental best; long skirted ladies on horse back decorously sitting side-saddle. There was a slice of history, coming more to life though those old pictures.

But of all the memories, the one that stands out is that of the ladies of Malawi dressed in all their colourful finery, making their way to market. All carried gaily-coloured umbrellas, for the sun was bright and hot, while on their head was carried a variety of things: cooking pots, full shopping bags, bundles of sticks. Some had babies slung in small blankets and hoisted on their backs. All in all, a carefully balanced load; one never saw a man carrying anything at all, or rarely. Maybe these women would bend with age and toil as the years passed, but when young they moved with grace, assurance and a casual posture that many would envy.
A vanishing day on Lake Malawi
oOo

Malawi Patrol - Chapter 5

Of Crocodiles, Elephants, Hippos and Other Things

Had there been no wildlife reserves nor national parks, it is doubtful if much wildlife, apart from birds and the smaller reptiles, and insects would be found in Malawi. All would have long since been poached or hunted into near or total extinction; even in the massive Lake Malawi the once bounteous fish life is suffering a serious decline with only the smaller of the species eluding the fishermen’s nets and those hunting mediums are getting more deadly as their meshes get small and smaller. On several occasions as Paul drove along he would point out areas where, not that many years ago, wildlife and game was not an uncommon sight; today they have all gone.

However, all is not lost; far from it. Malawi now has several parks and reserves, all carefully managed and controlled; in addition there are the multitude of forest reserves which apart from conserving and protecting the abundant spread of trees also provide shelter (and safety) for many species of wildlife.

Since one could not visit all the parks and reserves as we went about the Patrol, Paul had decided to take me to just one, Liwonde national park at the southern end of Lake Malawi. Again I was to go there alone, Paul dropping me off at the jetty to catch the ferry across the wide and beautiful Shire (pronounced Sherry)River and to Mvuu Camp.

Privately he must have feared the worst. My two previous solo trips had not been without incident and now staying in a camp whose very name meant hippopotamus could be courting trouble. Mvuu was chosen not just to titillate visitors, but also reflect that these great beasts (and the most dangerous) would come ashore at night and graze between the chalets that made up the camp’s accommodation. Mvuu is an onomatopoeic word, being the sound, according to natives, that hippos make. Listening to them in the still of the night, I think they have a point.

Lone elephant
Liwonde had something in common with Mumbo Island: both were reflections of paradise. At Mvuu I had a waterside chalet to myself; sitting in the shade of the small patio I was blessed with a fine view across the Shire. Bank side trees on my side of the river afforded shelter for a multitude of birds, while butterflies and other flying things flittered between the small bushes and undergrowth. Across the Shire about a dozen hippos (all going ‘mvuu’) were half sunk in the water, just a few feet away from the waterside rushes.

Mvuu Camp staff ensured that visitors saw as much as possible during their stay. That evening I would join others in one of those specially designed open vehicles so familiar in game parks and which afforded the best possible viewing for all. Walking around the park was strictly forbidden, unless accompanied by a guide and then both of us under the watchful eye of another ranger, this one armed with a high powered rifle. For next morning I had booked the services of a guide (and rifleman!) to take a very early walk before breakfast. After that, there would be time for a short rest before embarking with others on a small powered boat for a long trip along the Shire.

Clambering aboard the vehicle on the evening ride, I wondered if the combination might not be too much for my camera: fading light, nervous animals, a bumpy vehicle; switching controls would have to be a nippy business. One animal in plentiful supply was the impala. Surely they must be the most prolific of buck, found everywhere in southern Africa. They must have had Mvuu Camp surrounded, for everywhere one looked there were these beautiful antelopes looking back at you, caution manifest in their gaze.

Plunging into the woodlands, the wildlife soon made itself known. Elephants, kudu, the stately, slightly arrogant sable, the comic warthog with young scuttling behind their parents, buffalo, hippos wallowing in half hidden ponds and, of course, fish eagles standing watch in the trees. A cat-like creature, the genet, stopped to look at us and then bolted into the anonymity of nearby undergrowth.

Light was fading fast as we headed out of the woodland and towards more open country, making for the banks of the Shire and, hopefully, one of the sunsets that Malawi is justly famous for. A few more elephants, in twos or three, a small herd of zebra and then into the open and coming to a halt by the river, now darkening as day slipped away.

It was not quite dark, the setting sun giving enough light to see the humped backs of hippos in the water, or the occasional disturbance of water as a crocodile rose and sank once more into the darkness of the river. Our party sat or strolled along the river bank (but not too far away) and listened to rather than saw the creatures of the night. Then a farewell drink from essential supplies carried in the vehicle and it was back to Mvuu and the last meal of the day.

There were two tables at which sat English people. Strange how, despite more travel nowadays, the English reserve still holds off allcomers. Neither table acknowledged the other, even by a nod and ‘good evening’ while the smiling, hurrying waiters were barely acknowledged as they performed their duties. Being solo (and on Patrol) I had my own table, a situation that quickly led to guests at tables either side (filled, I think, with Dutch) soon had me chatting about the day’s events. My waiter quickly realised that when one beer (or ‘green’) was finished, a replacement was required; words were not spoken.

And so to bed. Making my way back to the chalet I passed a notice which warned of the possible presence of hippos, a reminder which caused an increase in pace and maintaining a careful lookout. Never get between a hippo and water. . . .

Once or twice in the night I awoke and could hear the ‘mvuu’ sound of hippos; some clearly were still out in the river’s shallows, but one or maybe two might have been on shore and none too far away. Apart from looking through my bedroom window, I did nothing to check if they were grazing nearby.

Monitor lizard

Just after five in the morning I was dressed and making my way to the appointment with a game warden named Danger (plus armed guard) and a walk through the woodlands to see whatever might be stirring. The sun was well risen, the cool morning air combined with the gentle breeze to make for a pleasant and quite absorbing ramble.

Inevitably there were the usual legions of graceful impala, but also we were rewarded with sightings of an occasional waterbuck, warthogs, a mongoose and a small herd of elephant which, apart from casting suspicious glances at our small party, carried on eating on the edge of the woodland until, searching for fresh pastures, they moved further into the trees and were swallowed up.

Danger proved a fine guide. He would stop, point to a tree and explain its fruit, which animals would eat it or ignore it; there were other trees that could supply a liquid that served very well as washing soap; others were a source of natural medicines; carvings, at which Malawian people were so adept, were fashioned from the wood of other types. Half way through the walk we came across quite a large clearing in the wood.

Coming to a large, circular clearing Danger explained that there had once been a small native village, but had been demolished and its inhabitants moved elsewhere to make way for the national park. I had been lucky, just being the only visitor on the walk and perhaps had more of an insight into the park’s attractions and mysteries. Anyway, time and breakfast were beckoning.

Of the three tours around Liwonde, the river trip was by common consent the best offering. A rest period after breakfast and then down to the jetty and the powered boat. Even to the least imaginative, the Shire River looked like what an African waterway should look like. Broad, handsome and sparkling in the late morning sun; rushes and small trees crowding the shallow banks; where there just grassy banks birds of all hues and sizes gathered to feed, forage and generally make a noise. Our guide was Danger (“I do everything,” he grinned, displaying a fine row of white teeth, in answer to my observation the he seemed to turn up everywhere).

Hippos were everywhere. Their lifestyle suggested just two functions in the water: mostly submerged with just part of the head and raised eyes above the water or, secondly, yawning opening their enormous mouths and displaying a throat that must have had the capacity to take on ox, if they’d been carnivores. Their teeth were of the magnitude that anything could be crushed to pieces. That these huge beasts are herbivores is almost a contradiction when gazing at their formidable display.

Crocodiles were much in evidence; by and large they appeared quite content to just lie and laze on muddy banks of the river. That such apparently languid creatures can move in and out of the water at incredible speeds is again another of Nature’s extraordinary contradiction. The remark of one of the visitors that one crocodile appeared to be dead in the shallow water drew a cautionary shake of the head from Danger, with what must have been an oft times reminder that one never trusts a crocodile’s appearance. One reptile that apparently feared neither the crocodile’s speed nor reputation was the monitor lizards, which made their ungainly way along the riverside.

We sailed gently on, quite blasé now about the presence of hippos, some basking just feet away, and crocodiles of which the occasional one or two would churn up the river’s water as they plunged deep into the Shire. Then a turtle swam by, a creature not that often seen Danger assured us. At first we had though it a small hippo basking almost submerged, but the noise of our approach stirred him into paddling furiously out of harm’s way.

By now our boat was well down river. Danger had steered the boat away from the Shire’s east bank and set a course down the middle. Suddenly he pointed and said, “Elephant’. And sure enough there they were, about half a mile ahead, their great bulks largely hidden as they swam and bathed. There must have been around a dozen, some just floating, a few using their trunks to spray those places where water could not reach. One or two white ibis were perched on elephants’ backs, for what purpose it was difficult to work out for they never moved. Surely they were not there for the ride, for the elephants were hardly making any movement in the water apart from being there, nor did they pick away at any insect life that might have taken up temporary residence on the thick-skinned beasts.

Most enjoyable! A cinnamon breasted roller

For twenty minutes or so Danger gently steered the boat alongside the bathing pachyderms, but not too close for that might cause our small craft to be capsized by a startled or irritated bather. Danger had reduced the engine’s nose to the absolute minimum and so we all were able to enjoy, indeed vicariously share, the morning ablutions.

Then it was time to go. Danger backed the boat gently away as first one, and then two followed by a fourth as the herd laboriously waded out of the river and back on to dry land. Not until viewed in their full size did we appreciate what mighty creatures they were. Emerging now were the almost sunken bodies, the hidden curves of the sweeping tusks, the sunken trunks up to now only seen when being gyrated to send out powerful jets of water. Slowly, majestically the herd moved and rose out of the river, savouring the last exquisite moments of submersion before disappearing along the hidden paths through the rushes.

Soon they were had gone; Danger turned the boat round and back we went to Mvuu. There did not seem much point in lingering too long over the return; we all had so enjoyed the experience and felt that nothing could follow it for the time being. And so we landed back at the camp jetty. All that remained was to pack, arrange for a time to be ferried back across the Shire and then depart to our various destinations.

First thing noticed when I got off the ferry was that Paul was not there. That in itself was nothing to get alarmed about. Timetables in Malawi were of interest not for adherence, or at least that was the impression gained. To pass the time I strolled around where the ferry had dropped me. Nothing of much interest, although a rather large number of different kinds of boats, mostly small, had been abandoned there, or drawn up on the banks and left there to rot away. One or two were dugout canoes which, one assumed, have only a comparatively short life span before disintegration sets in.

Sitting to the rear of the ferry stop was a mixed black community. Quite what their function was did not suggest itself, unless it was to help in any way possible (or maybe just beg?) visitors making their way to the ferry and Mvuu Camp. Or maybe they were guarding visitors cars, parked there while the occupants made their way across the Shire; I couldn’t suggest which.

Paul arrived, apologies for lateness (roads were full of pot holes) but he had something unusual to show. In the boot of the car was a large, brilliantly coloured flap-necked chameleon. Vivid yellow it had been rescued by Paul from two black youngsters who were bent on killing it just for fun. Already they had despatched its mate and then pursued the survivor. But for Paul’s intervention, the second would have been brutally put to death, for no other reason than to kill it.

That night we were to stay at Palm Beach, a B&B on the southern reaches of Lake Malawi, so the chameleon was washed carefully and taken there to be released into nearby woodland. Sadly, it was doubted if it would survive, but maybe there was just a chance.

oOo