A grand circle tour town - Saturday July 17, 2010
On how to find out information you need without the telephone
Today I was a woman on a mission. I needed some info from the Uganda Wildlife Authority on parks pricing and what has to be booked in advance, and what paid for at the gate. I wanted information on an amazing dance troupe that I saw at the Vet conference in the fall, and I wanted to check out one of the backpacker lodges on the other side of town. You have probably figured out by now that telephoning is not the way to do this. First off, the phones are rarely answered, if one has the right number. If they are it uses up all my phone credit to talk to someone, and I can’t understand half of what is going on anyway. And no one seems keen to call you back and use their air time. So - loaded with my street maps of Kampala off I went on a travel adventure. The first part was familiar territory - the 15 minute walk into Wandegeya. I know all the short cuts now, I’m a regular along that route. The Wildlife office is on my way to AKASHA avenue so I have that down pat. So, about 25 minutes of transportation for a 5 minute chat with the woman at the office who really wasn’t too interested in chatting with me, handed me a brochure with the rates on it (they are all out of the interesting ones about the parks - glad I grabbed a pile in November when they had more), and headed upstairs to the Adrift office - the rafting guys. And there were Carlos and Patrick, the two I dealt with in December. And in fact they even remembered me - I had booked and then cancelled as I was so ill with food poisoning and Carlos had phoned to make sure I was doing all right. They were much more helpful than the office downstairs, but then they do have to compete for tourists to make their money!
Next stop - the Ndere Troupe Centre - somewhere up the Ntinda Road. The conductor on the taxi seemed to know exactly where I wanted to get off, which was a treat. Eventually he managed to get through to me that he didn’t have to drop me at crossroads because I had with incredible cleverness randomly grabbed a taxi that was turning at the crossroads and could actually drop me off at the gate instead of a few km down the road. What a bonus! The Centre was very nice- lovely red stone building with lawns where lunches and dinners are served to go along with the dance shows, storytelling sessions, and impromptu music nights. There was a gaggle of school kids there eating snacks before getting a show - tea, samoosas, and biscuits. Several of them sat at the table where I was drinking a Stoney (ginger beer) and contemplating my maps for the next leg of the adventure. They all watched me out of the corners of their eyes until I said hello, and then I received a whole chorus of “hello, how are you, how is your day, where are you from?”
And then off in search of the next taxi. I was standing looking undecided by the front door so the manager asked what I needed, and then sent Manfred, the helpful young man who had been giving me information earlier, with me to walk down to the road, make sure I got on the right taxi, and make sure I didn’t get ripped off too badly. Very kind.
Remind me never to travel the old Ntinda road again. I recognized the route as one I said I would never go on (deja vu) after a rather misguided journey last fall. It seems to be traffic jam central. There are bus lanes, that is when there is room to squeeze between regular traffic and the steep drainage ditch. Plus the most amazing potholes. However, it is a chance to people watch and take pictures out of the very stationary windows. You know you are in for it when the driver turns off the engine and the conductor goes and adds a few litres of fuel, using a cutoff plastic soda bottle as a funnel. I’ll have to remember that one. However, eventually we arrived at the large and pretty grubby taxi park on the Jinja road, where I threw caution to the wind and grabbed a boda to get me the rest of the way. Since I hadn’t a clue exactly how to get to the backpackers, it seems a prudent plan. So off we zipped, me sitting sidesaddle and thinking about the fragility of my skull as we wove our way between the mostly stopped traffic, drainage ditches, up a few sidewalks, and finally to the door of the backpackers, for only about double what I figure I should have paid. But well worth it none the less.
And I have now hit the end of my rope for today - I have a meeting with the Dean at 8 AM and I’m off to bed but will post these now and hopefully catch up to myself later....
More about my round town travel - Red Chili backpackers is pretty standard - lounge area with dining, quite big grounds with small houses that used to be for factory workers a long time ago, tents and a number of variably scruffy tourists of all ages sitting about with guidebooks and paperback novels. I spent about an hour talking to the manager, he and his wife have been here from UK for several years so he had some good info about travelling. Although apparently they are busy enough that it’s hard to get time off to really see as much of the country themselves. I caught his interest as I was on the phone talking to Mike about the number of dead gorillas he had for me to look at, how’s that for a conversational opener?
After a very large chickpea and bean and some healthy grain salad I caught a taxi to the taxi park, transferred there to get back to Wandegeya, and then made a big plunge - I bought an orange 3-G stick. Predict will pay for the stick and then keep it when I leave, and I pay for my own download time. So - internet on demand, here I come. Twelve dollars for 1 GB, not sure how long it will last me, but we’ll see. Picked up chicken and chips and then finally walked home - hot, sweaty and totally bagged
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