South Sudan

James writes this entry and note that there are no photos......... a 'photo permit' was required and we were not going anywhere near that bit of bureaucracy, as you will see below!

Juba, South Sudan, how did we end up here?  Despite being one of the newest countries in the world, I doubt that South Sudan is near the top of many people’s wish list as a destination..and with good reason from my perspective.  The best moment of our week in South Sudan was wheels up on departure.  Obviously a very subjective opinion, but somewhat unsurprisingly South Sudan definitely seems to have an edge to it, mostly as a result of the apparent autonomy and power crazed corruption of most  branches of the police and armed forces.  Of course this is based on very limited experience and clearly unfair to the countless fabulous people that I have no doubt live and come from South Sudan.  Indeed the South Sudanese people that I knew in Cairo were some of the most gentle and kind people I have met.

So we cleared Uganda immigration and customs without delay but with the big smiles and jovial welcomes that we had become used to in Uganda.  Indeed the immigration post into South Sudan was very friendly, although they seemed to struggle a bit with the idea of a tourist visa.  Over the next few days I had to explain that I was not attached to any company or NGO many times.  Then to customs and the fun begins.  After 5 hours of coming and going, appealing to all and sundry and general wringing of hands, the difficult customs man told us we would have to sleep in our car at the border and we could talk to the boss in the morning.  Now most border towns have a certain dodgy feeling to them, but this place was just a bit more wild than I fancied.  After much further discussion it was agreed that a customs officer could accompany us to Juba, where the car would be placed in the customs compound over night to sort out issues in the morning.  During all this time many many Kenyan and Ugandan cars were passing the border.  For only the second time in years of African driving, we had a significant drive to do, in the dark, in an unknown African country.  The first time was in Nigeria, and another considerable miscalculation.

As the sun set, the road was great and the scenery stunning.  At one of the numerous police checks, as we neared Juba, a different plain clothes policeman jumps in the car and tells us to drive on.  Once I’d got over the shock and annoyance of strangers jumping in the car we discovered that he had been sent by our friend in Juba to help us into town.  As he was off duty he didn’t have his gun, which seemed to worry him as we approached the hills before Juba.  It started to worry me a little as he told us not to stop for anyone, even if they had a uniform and a gun.  So that night we arrive in Juba and settle in to the absolute luxury of our contacts place.  All is well. HA. Actually the somewhat upset original customs guy is a little confused by the fact that we haven’t gone to the customs compound as agreed, but he is quite easily appeased for 12 hours and we agree to see him in the morning.

Of course on the way to customs the next morning we are stopped by the police and have absolutely no papers.  The Kenyan guy assisting me with the process puts his head in his hands and assures me we’re going to waste a lot of time and spend a lot of money.  However with much apologies and appealing to the traffic cops better nature, we’re allowed to continue…. to the next junction, where we repeat the process.  I’m told by my helper that I must pray a lot to have such luck, now that did make me chuckle.  Juba customs is the expected madhouse of petty officialdom with one or two people going out of their way to help us.  After one guy sternly telling me to drive the car inside to be impounded, he has a shouting match with another official trying to explain that we are tourists, and I’m told to drive outside again.  At which point they close for lunch, obviously.  However after lunch I’m actually issued with a 6 month driving permit and they let me off the deposit normally required for the Temporary Import.  All is well and my legal advisor is once more astounded by our luck.  As he tells his boss, it only cost us “lunch”, having to explain that he actually means our lunch, rather than the “lunch money” that is often the cost of getting anything done in bureaucratic Africa.

Relieved we return to the sanity and safety of the 5 star compound that we are lucky enough to be staying in.  Great food, beer and the swimming pool were waiting.  Unfortunately, also waiting were a pair of plain clothes CID police from the local station who had been sent to fetch me and the car to the station to explain “running a road block” last night.  After bluffs, threats and counter threats I had agreed to go with them before being rescued by friends with contacts.  After much discussion these guys were also appeased, but for how long we really weren’t sure.

The rest of our time in Juba was spent nervously waiting to be arrested, while at the same time registering as aliens and generally keeping our heads down.  Our compound was full of interesting people doing great deeds to help this fledgling country get on it’s feet.  But I lost count of the number of times the excuse that “we are just a baby” was used by officials to explain an absurd system designed to extract the most out of members of the public through exposure to corruption.  It seems that all members of government and officialdom are competing against each other to get their piece of the pie and it mostly depends on who knows the bigger boss.  Thankfully for us we seemed to be rescued on each occasion by people with the right contacts.  I really do hope for the best for the country after it’s tough times in formation and over the first few years…. but I’m not coming back in a hurry.

Uganda

Feeling toughened up by the Mount Kenya climb, we crossed the border into Uganda ready for the next bit of action- rafting the Nile. Having done some rafting before, we thought we knew what we were in for. It turns out we were wrong. Rafting on the source of the Nile involves 8 sets of rapids, some of which are a level 5 which is the ‘top’ of the rafting scale. This is not the type of trip where you work your way up to the tough stuff; the first rapid, aptly named 'The Waterfall', a level 5 rapid, gave us a taste of what was to come………a lot of time spent in the washing-machine like waters of the Nile! James came off worst on the first rapid, getting an absolute canning: trapped underneath the boat; spat out the side of the rapid; hurled into the churning water; and, eventually, pulled out by the safety kayakers. I showed that I had a monkey like grip and was able to cling to the safety rope even when it flipped (though I did relinquish the paddle) and was the first one back in the boat when it was righted. Girl power or the power of fear? I will let you decide!

 

Hang on!

Here we go....... again!

And so we continued, flipping, laughing and screaming our way down the river.The raft turned over on 6 of the 8 rapids. Looking at the pictures, I am convinced the guide was doing it deliberately! It was exhausting, exhilarating and thoroughly excellent. We emerged knackered, but smiling and possibly suffering from shock. And ready for a beer back at the campsite.



Made it!



Most of the tourism we had encountered so far on this trip had been pretty low key, and while it was a good set up (and was free with the rafting), the nights spent at NRE campsite gave us a glimpse of a whole different way of travelling: the overland truck. The relatively small camp site was rammed and had possibly the most polar opposite groups you could imagine: one truck was filled with an oldies group (one of the ladies I spoke to was in her 80s!) from New Zealand; another group was young and highly excitable American Christians; another was filled with Antipodean and European twenty somethings on tour. It was a pretty loud couple of nights. As if the sounds of evangelizing and drinking 'til 3 in the morning (yes, I am aware of the irony of me saying that!) wasn’t bad enough, the oldies decided to get their revenge after a couple of sleepless nights by giving the entire campsite a 5am wakeup call, blasting music from their truck and giggling loudly at their ‘revenge’. This obviously made the targets of the ‘revenge’ cross and then there was shouting and fighting. All before daylight. We were not amused and vowed in future to avoid any camp with even a whiff of an overland truck. I had to be physically restrained from getting out of the tent to give the oldies a lecture about maturity and that dignified behaviour was not about an eye for an eye. Oh for the peace and tranquility of wild camping on Mount Kenya.

It was then to Kampala to get our visas for South Sudan (managing to avoid any overland trucks even though we stayed at Red Chilli- phew) and then we headed towards Queen Elizabeth National Park. We were pretty shocked when we went to pay to enter the park to find that, alongside the park fees, it was a whopping 150 US dollars per day to bring a foreign registered vehicle into the park. Our initial plan needed reviewing. Luckily there is a public road that runs through part the park, and while there was not quite the wildlife you might get in the centre of the park, we still saw lots, including elephants, and fell asleep to the sounds of snorting and munching hippos.




Lone elephant

Hungry hippos!

We then headed the “Mountains of the Moon”, the Rwenzoris. We were not sure whether to do the week long hike into National Park and up to the peaks, but once we hit the area and camped and did some walking in the surrounding hill and forests, we realized that they really aren’t kidding when they say that the Rwenzoris have a reputation for being muddy……..it was an extremely wet place and we witnessed some absolutely bone shaking storms. The area had seen a real battering from the weather and we saw washed away bridges and homes, evidence of flash flooding just a few weeks ago. We decided to keep our walking to just one day!


Camping at the foot of the Rwenzoris

Chimpanzee tracking was next on the list, and although it is not quite as amazing as seeing the gorillas, I loved the excitement of the chase: stopping to listen to them swishing through the trees;  looking for knuckle prints in the mud; the battling through the forest to get closer when you see them. They do move very quickly though and stay high in the trees, but we did get a good look at them, but didn't really get any good pictures. We did our tracking in Toro Semeliki National Park where there is a small group of chimps who are only just being habituated (some researchers are working there habituating them and collecting the chimp’s poo!). Our guide had just transferred to Semeliki from Kibale (which has the biggest population of habituated chimps,) and he was very excited as we were the first tourists he had taken tracking and he was very chuffed that we was able to find the chimps. We were too!

 

A bit of R&R was in order, so we headed to the beautiful crater lakes area. We did some walking around the lakes and camped at a fantastic place on Lake Nkruba where, high up on the crater, you could look down into the trees and see the black and white colobus and red tailed monkeys play. They were absolutely hilarious and we spent hours watching them in this truly beautiful and peaceful place.

Monkey magic!

 

A beautiful crater lake

We weren’t done with wildlife watching so we headed to Murchinson Falls National Park where we camped at a lodge on the Nile. Incredibly, we had the entire place to ourselves, sitting in the gorgeous outside restaurant as the sun set over Nile. It was a nice touch that when we arrived back at the tent, they had lit us a fire. Perfect. Just as perfect was the encounters with the wildlife in the park and on the boat journey up to the falls There were a few alarming moments; we were driving in the park when we found ourselves right in the middle of a very large group of elephants. They were up ahead, behind and either side. Another amazing up-close encounter with nature.

Camping on the Nile in Muchision Falls National Park

 

Hello!

An antelope type thing....actually, James says it's a Jackson's Hartebeest!



Top of the falls



Sadly, there are no Rhinos left in any of the national parks in Uganda, so we headed to Ziwa Rhino Sanctuary where they are embarking on a breeding program and you can track the rhinos on foot. We had a fabulous couple of hours with a gentle guide, walking right up to the rhinos and hearing about the breeding there (loved that one of the rhino's names was Obama- the parents were a rhino from America and one from Kenya!). They have a group of adolescent rhinos who stay together and we watched them play fighting standing just meters away.


Up close and personal with the rhino

 

James: not too happy about having his back to the rhino for the pic!





Obama trying to eat the 150kg of grass they need each day!

So the African part of the journey is almost over, and we have crossed the border into South Sudan and the crazy plan that James dreamed up months ago of selling the car might actually work. We have loved travelling in Africa again, but already I am getting excited about new places, a  new mode of travel (our feet!), and the freedom of being able to go where ever we choose. The journey into South Sudan deserves its own post. A journey into the newest country in the world is like a trip into the wild west! More soon.

 



Kenya

The Omo Valley-Lake Turkana route from Ethiopia into Kenya is somewhat of an overlander’s holy grail. In what can seem a fairly well trodden Cairo to Cape Town trail, this unconventional route has 700kms of tar-less track, a non-existent border post on the Kenyan side, and a lack of fuel, food and water. Combine that with the potential for banditry and the fabulously decorated Samburu and Turkana tribes people who populate the area, and you have a route that appeals to any travellers inner Indiana Jones and begs to be taken over the more traditional Marsabit- Moyale route (though last week's news of clashes in that area mean that now perhaps the opposite is true).




Our first glimpse of the blue waters of Lake Turkana




Bush Camp

 

Dave: modern day Indiana Jones, or just a lunatic in a high visibility jacket in the middle of nowhere? You decide......

It was with a mixture of relief and maybe a tinge of disappointment that the route was actually pretty straight forward, albeit rocky and slow. Perhaps compared to some of our Egyptian desert trips, where you can go weeks without seeing a single person or mark of civilization, it didn’t have that feeling of extreme remoteness-or maybe that was because we were still in our convoy of 4 cars and 10 people! However, once past the first glimpse of civilization at Loyangalani (which had the feeling of an Aussie out-back town and a similar number of toothless inhabitants), we did get a taste of why this route is not one to travel alone. ‘The Boys’ car started to overheat and the tow strap had to come out. In a South Horr campsite, while there was an attempt to patch the radiator, we were informed of recent banditry by a local white Kenyan. James  coined him ‘Charles Dance’. Apparently this was a remarkably apt and hilarious comparison to those familiar with UK celebrity, but a mystery to those from outside its shores or younger than 40. In a remarkable coincidence we actually ran into ‘Charles’ hundreds of kilometers away in the Purdy Arms in Nairobi- more about coincidence and the Purdy Arms later.


Charles, who was really called Nick. A really nice guy.

With some more fixing at various tiny towns and ultimately more towing, our party made our way slowly to Maralal, where we were disappointed to learn that we were 3 weeks too early for the International Camel Derby, but excited to see that the ‘Yare Camel Camp’ was still here 18 years on from when James visited when he worked in Nairobi. It was here that the group, parted ways, at least until Nairobi, and James and I headed towards Lake Baringo.

We remembered with fondness Robert’s camp at Lake Baringo from our last trip, but when we got there we were surprised to see that the lake’s level had risen so much that a lot of the camp (and the surrounding hotels and houses) were completely submerged. The restaurant was still there though- the water now almost all the way up to its edge- and a little room to camp. We had a lovely evening with hippos swimming by as we ate dinner, just meters away and listening to their snorts all night. We took a boat trip the next day to see the lake and the bird life and I found that even though it is very geeky, bird watching is actually quite satisfying!

Feeding the fish eagles at Lake Baringo

When the boat came back to Robert’s camp, we got a shock to find that there was a croc cleverly masquerading as a log right near the tent. The only reason we noticed him was that as that as the boat drove up, his friend snapped at us enthusiastically and swam away! I was a bit slow on the uptake, but I did get a tiny snippet of video.

 

We then headed to the Masai-Mara via Lake Naivasha and Hell’s Gate National Park. We loved Hell's Gate as much as last time: stunning red-rock landscape, a fabulous campsite and the fact that you can walk or cycle around.

The gorge at Hell's Gate

We were pretty excited about the Mara, as although we had visited before,
we had never seen the migration. The Mara brims with life at the best of times, but during the migration the place is absolutely covered in game. We were near the Mara river when we saw a number of vehicles milling around its banks. Suddenly there were people out their cars and, shouted at by Masai guides, they were being herded along the river bank. We decided to get out as well, not the usual practice in a National Park crammed with potentially dangerous animals. When we got to the bank, there were a group of wildebeest on the other side. With all of us people on one side, cameras poised, and the wildebeest eyeballing us on the other, it struck me the perfect scenerio for a far-side comic, with wildebeest saying to wildebeest-“get your camera out, here comes the mzungus ”.

And then, the wildebeest, all at once, hurled themselves off the bank and into the river. It was carnage: some were swept away; some were trampled. Bodies collected on the shore. The ones that made it to our side shot up the steep channels to the river bank, springing up from the river like pop corn. It was quite incredible. We were on a tiny ledge on the river and they were exploding up either side of it and shooting off into the bush. It was amazing to be so close to the action- as well as slighly terrifying!

 



Swim!!!!



 Pop!

 Magestic Lions

 Cheeky Hyena

It was then off to Nairobi where we had a fabulous time catching up with friends and, in James’ case, catching up with his past; in the Purdy Arms he was recognised by a former student who said that “Mr Thomas had not changed a bit” and “was he still an excellent hockey player?” I was highly amused.

Thank you to Carol, Roger, Ollie, Lizzie and Katie for being wonderful hosts and serving us what has to be our best meal of the trip. Another thanks to Lars, Flora and Eric for having us as well- brilliant to catch up with the Cairo crowd. We said our final goodbyes to our fellow travellers and set off towards Mount Kenya, determined to bag the second highest mountain in Africa.

 

We decided to go without a guide and carry all our stuff, which meant that while there were some tough bits, we had the mountain to ourselves almost the entire time and had some amazing (albeit sometimes freezing!) camping on the mountain. On the first, day a group of elephant crossed our path in the forest just before our first nights camping- another incredible up-close encounter with nature on foot! The mountain is amazingly diverse and each section is incredibly beautiful.



A dramatic sky on the first night camping on Mount Kenya-

Camp just before the summit- Point Lenana is behind me

Made it!  Feeling elated but freezing at the summit

 

Coming down from the summit

So it is goodbye Kenya and hello to Uganda! I am seriously behind with this blog, though have set the task to be up to date before we leave Africa, so will get to Uganda soon before I forget everything!

 

 

 

Alive in Ethiopia

How to describe Ethiopia in one word? Some travellers that we met (known collectively as ‘The Boys’), have a challenge to try to capture each county they pass through in just one word. The process of selecting the word is quite complicated and involves locking in noises and other protocol that are too intricate to expand upon here. Spence (‘The Boys’ accounts manager and scribe of ‘The Book’) took a poll of the 10 of us who had just crossed the border from Ethiopia to Kenya to select the word to be entered into ‘The Book’ for Ethiopia. Words such as ‘lush’, ‘moist’, ‘crowded’ and ‘vibrant’ were bandied around the campfire. The winning word, offered by Dave (not normally one for brevity, but this was a good'un), was ‘alive’, which is remarkably apt. As soon as we crossed the border the place hummed with life, excitement and a kind of vociferous intensity. In the car, I took on the full time job of chief waver and smiler to respond to the constant stream of waving, clambering and yelling children who lined the road, acknowledging that we were there, in their country. Life is lived along the road in Ethiopia; it is the playground, the supermarket and the highway for herds of goat, cattle and donkey. Greetings ranged from delightful smiles and cute choruses of “hello, welcome”, to the slightly crazed farangi frenzy that was followed by screeches of "Faragi…….you, you, you you, YOU!” On the roadside kids dance as you pass, and each region has a 'specialty'. In the north it is the shoulder dance; in the central highlands it takes on a knee/leg focus; in the south there is a lot of bum wiggling and even some standing on heads! Stepping outside the car meant that each spare hand or finger was quickly latched on to- you can go nowhere in Ethiopia without a full entourage of children. In Ethiopia, you cannot be private, subtle or unnoticed. And you certainly can never be alone. The place is alive with life and it demands interaction.

Our first port of call in Ethiopia was Gondar- a kind of Ethiopian Edinburgh with cobbled streets and castles looming in the background. It is also home to some amazing- if dilapidated and incongruous- Art Deco architecture. The Italian influence also means that Ethiopia also has amazing coffee; frothy macchiatos are poured from circa 1930’s coffee machines, in even the smallest backwater villages. We quickly became addicted. I also became addicted to avocado juice (by itself or mixed with mango). Delicious and requiring a spoon!

 From Gondar we headed to Axum on an incredible tiny, winding road- amazing driving, but very slow going- we drove all day and still didn’t make it in daylight. Axum itself was a chilled out town, home to the Axum Stele and the Arc of the Covenant (which is allegedly in a church here, but mere mortals are not allowed to see it- it’s kept shrouded in secrecy), and some beer on tap- welcome after Sudan!

 We then headed across to the Tigray region- home of stunning landscapes, and hard to reach monasteries set into rock. It is also home of grumpy monks and very inflated entry prices.

We then headed through more gorgeous landscapes with hidden rock churches set in caves and across to the famous Lalibela where this time we stopped in at a more obscure rock hewn church, Yemrehanna Kristos, complete with mummified bodies dumped out the back; “Just some local dead people”, said our guide.......

Our final stop on what is known as Northern Ethiopia’s ‘Historical circuit’, was Bahir Dar, where we met up with Dave and Nadine, who had acquired the travelling name of ‘The Losers’(this accompanied them from the Sudan where they were travelling with ‘The Boys’ who like labels!) Needless to say some entertaining evenings followed. We soon discovered St George was our favourite Ethiopia beer and that we absolutely love Amharic pop music!

 We then headed to Addis Ababa to get our Kenyan visas, though we slightly miscalculated, arriving on a Friday, and visas would take up to 4 days to issue. Addis is a sprawling and slightly unfathomable city; we couldn’t get our heads around it. Even with maps and GPS we could never make it to where we wanted to go. Taxi rides were confusing affairs and seemed extortionate after Cairo prices. Eventually, we gave up, and stayed closer to home for our entertainment; the dodgy streets surrounding the Taitu Hotel. Fun but seedy!

 Luckily visas were issued on the Monday and we headed towards the Omo Valley via some beautiful lakes and lakeside camping to Arba Minch. We visited the Dorze tribe, who are known for their fabulous ‘elephant’ style huts, which were actually very cozy inside (though they do share their inside space with their animals for warmth). It was also a lesson in sustainability, as the Dorze people make bread from fermenting the banana tree growing outside their huts, the leaves wrap the bread for baking and the remaining pulp from the fermenting process is wound into string. Pretty amazing. The bread was tasty and the accompaniment was a delicious fiery garlicky, gingery, chilli-ey sauce. In the market place we also tried the local ‘wine’ tej, which is sold in the guidebooks as a’ honey wine’, but in reality was pretty gruesome- and this is coming from a wine lover!

As we moved further towards the Omo Valley - Lake Turkana route into Kenya, the group expanded from us four ‘The Lames’ and ‘The Losers’, to 6 (Walter and Inga- ‘The Wingers'),to 10 (with the addition of Ed, Spence, Jason and Louis -‘The Boys’). We headed to Jinka, where there was a local market which was frequented by Ari, Mursi and Bana tribes. It was a great place to see just how individualistic each tribal group actual was, and a great place to buy fruit and veg. A very enjoyable experience.

We were dubious about visiting the Mursi people in their village because guide books and other peoples’ blogs warned it was very exploitative for all involved. However, we decided that we would do the village visit, and though the whole experience felt slightly surreal, I am still glad we did go. When we first reached the village all the interactions with the villagers seemed quite okay- I was wearing a beaded top and had a bag with mirrors and other bits on it. They were fascinated by them, which made it -for me- seem less voyeuristic; we were all interested in looking at each other! (I would love to take a lot of ‘Accessorize’ stuff out there- it would be right up the ally of the Mursi people, and equally the Mursi are inspiration for a whole High Street Line!) But once photos started to be taken and payments negotiated , (and rightly we expected to pay for photos and did) it felt very strange…….Who didn’t you take a picture of? Who do you ‘choose’ to take a picture of? While to experience wasn’t too horrific it still felt very uncomfortable.

 

We then decided to head off through the Mago National Park- which began with a warning from the park warden; “the river is impassable”. This proved too much of a provocation for our band of travellers. We did pass it- and in true ‘boys and their toys’ style, we used every bit of equipment -winches, sand ladders, spades, waffle boards- to cross not only the river, but the 90kms of park which was virtually road less and hadn’t seen anyone for ages. The cars have the scratches to prove it! Our reward was plenty of gung-ho fun, and meeting some less touristy tribes at the other end of the park, where the interactions seemed more genuine.  

We then headed to Omarate to complete the paperwork to leave Ethiopia and headed towards Lake Turkana, where I will leave you now and return for the Kenya post soon!