Tales of the unexpected

Thursday

We set off from Iganga at 8.30 for the three hour (we estimated) ride to Masaka. This allows an hour for the border formalities as we cross from Uganda into Tanzania. We make good time and reach the border fairly effortlessly on the generally good roads. 

 

As we reach the Police checkpoint, we are instructed to park our bikes and go to the Police office for registration. This passes off fairly smoothly and we move on to the Immigration hut where I (Paul) surrender my passport to the official behind the glass screen. After scanning my passport and taking my fingerprints he asks for $50. This comes as a surprise as I have already bought my visa so do not expect to pay anything. I ask for and explanation, but because he is sitting a metre behind a thick glass screen, can barely speak English and someone behind me is shouting into his mobile phone I don’t hear it. I ask him to repeat. He does but again I cannot hear the reason for the additional charge. By this stage I’m getting quite irritable, mainly at the bloke on the phone and tell him to turn his phone off so I can hear.

It transpires that the additional charge is because we have filled in the wrong form, giving the impression that we are making a second visit on our single entry visa. I correct this at which there is much stamping of documents and we are out and on to the customs hut for our carnets to be stamped. This occurs without incident and we are out of Uganda and into Tanzania, where the whole process is repeated.

Each border crossing has three key factors. First; Someone who wants to fix everything for us and then get some money at the end when all we want to do is GO. Second; hand written records in books and on triplicate carbon copies at every stage. One does wonder whether any of these records ever get used for anything. Third; the favorite toy of the immigration services, the finger print reader. Four left, four right then thumbs. We have decided that the 10,000 shilling note Martin held briefly in his lips without thinking (and indeed without problems) is not as heaving with germs as the finger print machine at the borders! A craving for alco-gel or wet wipes is understandable is it not!

Despite all the bureaucracy, we both agree that this transition is a lot less stressful than our crossing from Kenya into Uganda.

One of the things we wanted to do was join the boda-boda guys on their stand so we had a go at that and it was so much fun!

 

 

 

Once into Tanzania, we ride the 30 minutes or so to the Zebra Hotel where we have stayed before and are both looking forward to staying again. I ceremonially hand over the key to room 110 that has been in my possession since our last visit in 2010 when Paul planted it in my luggage before we left. They were pleased to get the key back and slightly amazed I had remembered it. The views from Zebra Hotel are splendid and it was great to be back there. As we reviewed our route for the next few days we decided on a change of plan in order to cut a corner, save some miles, some money and possibly have another truly authentic African experience into the bargain!

Friday

We leave the Zebra Hotel and are on our way to Bukoba where we are hoping to catch the 21.30 evening ferry to Mwanza. This will save around 200 miles of fairly boring riding and should put us a day ahead. If it works out it will be a real bonus although we aren’t holding our breath! We arrive at Bukoba around 11.30 and make our way to the port where we can see our ship already in the harbour. This is the first time we have seen Lake Victoria and it will probably be the last of the whole trip. But this time we aim to get onto the lake and not just look at it.

                                     The boat in the background...little did we know!


First we check at the ticket office – only second class is available which means sharing a 6 bunk room. Cost £10 per person. We are then directed to the “parcels office” who will be responsible for shipping the bikes. Cost £10 per bike. Finally we attend the Port Authority office for “a small administration fee” - £1.50 all in. We are told to return around 4pm when our bikes will be loaded, so we go into to the town for some lunch and rest.

                                                          Lake Victoria Beech club!

Relaxing before boardng the ferry

View from the boat of Bukoba coast line

We researched a Tanzanian internet dongle but this is going to take 5 days to be registered and useable so we ditch the idea. 

Parcel  office

 

Cargo

Sleeping Giant or Fat person for short

 

 

At 4pm we return to the port and no sooner have we put the bikes on the side stands that we are surrounded by around a dozen lads in fluorescent jackets who, amidst much excitement, seize the bikes and begin pushing them towards the ship. We offer to ride them the 500 metres or so but they are clearly so keen to actually push them that our offer is declined.

As they reach the ship, we both realize it is not the usual P&O roll on – roll off type, but is a battered old tub  onto which they intend to crane the bikes! Paul’s is first and is pushed onto a 3 metre square metal tray which they intend winching aboard using an ancient crane. I suggest that the bikes are very heavy and that this may not be either stable or safe at which I am told “don’t worry, someone will go with them”.

We watch with some trepidation as the tray is connected to the crane, one of the lads climbs astride the bike and it is lifted 30 feet into the air and deposited on the upper deck. All the while he has one foot just touching the surface of the tray and if the bike had slipped he would have been helpless to do anything. These guys are quick and uncompromising and if we want to suggest something to them, like leaving it in gear while it is 30 ft in the air on a rusty metal tray, then we have to be quick. All around us is chaos as bananas and other produce are man handled onto the ‘ship/boat/vessel/tin tub’.

 

 

 

 

Martin’s bike gets the same treatment and they are set up on the top deck right on the bow on the highest public part of the ship. Winching them off tomorrow should be a doddle now that we have seen the technique. We do notice later that some of the trays only have three rings at the corners rather than four which makes us a little nervous.

The bikes are tied to any and every available immovable object such as rails and posts. We do not have enough rope or ties so we are taken by one of the deck hands to a shop just beyond the compound to by a ‘summer line’ which was made of woven sisal. Martin bought two and the tying off was done. Paul, organised as ever had packed rope in his luggage! Meanwhile the deck below was literally stuffed with bananas so that access to the deck where the bikes were was almost impossible and the steep, narrow, wooden deck stairs were very slippery with a mixture of diesel and banana juice.

As we have a quick look around the ship we see rats scuttling around under the benches. This really is going to be an experience!

The vessel was not due to leave for another 2 hours so we went to the concrete waiting area where there were all manner of people and families waiting to get on board. We had a little sleep clutching our jackets which had all our valuables in them. When we awoke (well Martin had a sleep) we found another waiting room that served beer and cold drinks so we adjourned there for while. Over the cold beer accompanied by Uganda’s version of MTV at full volume we agreed we would get to the accommodation cabin early to take our claim in the least claustrophobic configuration. The 6 bunks were very tight and with the other four (as yet unknown occupants) body heat (not to mention odour) would certainly challenge!

We sneaked through the gate around 7.30 and settled onto our bunks. Martin worked out that the max headroom option for least claustrophobic impact was a top bunk with his head away from the air duct. We just had to wait and see who would join us. One thing was for sure, they would not be a nice middle class English person.

 

Bunking down with Trampas!

Around half an hour after we bunked-in a head came round the door. It was a young Uganda guy who spoke good English and was on his way to a mission trip in Tanzania. Julius turned out to be something of a God-send as we will see later.(In Martins eyes) Then came a young guy with a silent older man. We were told that the young man was accompanying the older one to hospital in Mwanza as he had very bad stomach pain. Martin immediately wonders what he is going to catch overnight…and he didn’t mean fish! Five down. Finally comes Simon, a frequent user of the ferry and a teacher who also spoke reasonable English.

Martin and Julius get talking and I turns out Julius had spent a year in the UK in Bristol staying with Silas and Annie Crawley who are good friends of Martin & Sophie. How bizarre was this! Julius and Martin also suggest some prayer for the man in the bottom bunk. This is duly offered and received with a huge grin.

We explore the ship and see that below deck is the seating for those who will not have a bed for the night. The rats are in evidence and we are certainly thankful for small mercies. We also discover the first class lounge and restaurant where we find we can spend the evening and even get some food. Don’t think British Airways, or even P&O think…well…Africa. We settle in and have a drink and some food which is very nice and comes to £6 for all three of us (Julius has joined us). After a chat we decide to take some air on the deck and see that the ship is traveling at quite a speed. We put in to a harbour on the way to take on more cargo and as we do so we are surrounded by fisherman selling their catch. The fish, which are tied in bundles of six, are offered to the passengers on the end of the fishermen’s paddles and money is sent back by the same means. Much fish is sold and it is a fantastic thing to watch from our upper deck vantage point.

 

The fishermen selling alongside

We decide to brave the cabin for bed and sleep and for Martin there are memories of ‘The Virginian’ and the ranch bunk house where Trampas used his jacket and saddle as a pillow. Except it was not so nice! We all slept amazingly well and greeted the dawn at around 0630 0n the deck which was now absolutely crammed with cargo and people. Especially bananas. We were glad that the bikes would be taken off by the crane as that would be the only way they could possibly make it off the ship above the cargo which was blocking almost every gangway. We did not reach Mwanza harbour until around 9.00 a.m. and almost as soon as we had docked we saw the deck hands making a bee line for our bikes and wheeling Martin’s towards the very steep and very narrow staircase from the deck below. Clearly thee was no way they could man handle the bike off the deck, down the narrow steep steps across a field of bananas as high as a man and then down a second even narrower staircase to the main  deck and off. This was impossible and we just needed to remind the guys at this Mwanza end that the bikes had been craned on and that was the only way they could come off.

This is where Julius came in. He established in Sawahili that during the night at the stop over for extra cargo the crane had broken down. It was not working. Paul and I doubted that these heavy bikes could be lifted all that way at head height and so Julius went to speak to the captain.

Julius our heroic helper

Martin, in the meantime, was wondering if they could summons another ship with a crane, manoever it alongside, crane our bikes onto that ship and then lower them to the dock! Readers, I have has four weeks of this!

Meanwhile the crew were getting more and more lathered up about how they would carry these bikes over 10 tons of bananas and down two flights of submarine scale stairs. Julius returned. ‘hear me out’ he said. The captain says the crane cannot be fixed any time soon. He says he understands the bikes are worth about $10,000 and suggests you let the deck crew go ahead with their plan.

Martin’s bike first. 

 

You must be joking!!! That is my bike!

 

 

 

They lift and strain and squeal and shout and carry and maneuver and check every step of the way that nothing is damaged. While others take huge shoulder loads of bananas off the ship and with people shouting and screaming and sweating. They get the bike off. When it is run off the gang plank onto the shore there is a huge cheer and I give them all a high five. The 10,000 TZSH I had in my pocket (about £4.00 in readiness for the off-load suddenly seemed a little paultry. The guys wasted no time in going up for the second bike. Paul takes pictures pretending to be unruffled. His bike also emerges from the bananas unscathed to another cheer-  unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. 

 

Looking relaxed...not really!

 I would never have believed they could do it. Julius establishes that they want 100,000 TZSH between them which is about £50. After some too-ing and fro-ing things get heated and Martin decides to give them half of that. But only once we are both ready to ride off! We know that is still a huge amount for them. The money is handed over and the grins tell us they are very happy. For £12.00 each so are Paul and I.

 

Unbelievable!

This has been a fantastic experience and one we will never forget. As huge bunches of bananas are thrown to dock staff off the boat and the chaos of the landing continues Julius jumps on the back of Paul’s bike and we head for town to get a cup of tea. After a bit of searching we find a great coffee shop where we have African Masala tea and omlettes all round. After Julius is picked up by his Tanzanian Pastor and we have taken a quick photo we part company and head out of town at 11.30. After a few miles we stop to sort panniers and put our boots on and get sorted after the quick get away from the port. The roads to Nzega are long straight tarmac through rugged Tanzanian scenery. We arrive at the guest house around 3.00 and have a ‘shower’ before finding a cold beer and some shade in the very hot sun. Enough for one day! 

Some scenery. Tanzania is really beautiful and so different to where we have been so far.

LONG!

Wednesday consisted of two more field visits. We stayed our second night at the Continental and sampled more of the same food, horrific TV   and try-incredibly-hard service. 

 

We were due to be picked up at 9.30, so were in the foyer from 8.00. The guys from CFE finally arrive at 10.15 with a different vehicle as Pastor Paul needed the mini bus for some other duties. Our car was a complete shed and it turns out it had been hired. Avis it was not! 

 

 A Group C car!

Compelling Selling!

We headed off to see our Compassion sponsored children and after a short journey we were there. The school where they are has 400 children, 300 of whom belong to the CFE church. There are 283 children sponsored by Compassion, at least 120 of whom are sponsored by people from GX! We spent around 45 minutes with our children for whom we had brought some gifts of ‘scholastic materials’ with which they seemed chuffed. The Compassion/CFE partnership seems to be working very well and we talked about whether we could get the sponsored kids number up to the Comapassion threshold of 300. Anyone interested in taking on a child at the Mawagala Child Development Centre? 

 

Let Martin know. It was a great morning. One of the Davis Compassion kids had heard he was coming and had skipped school so Paul only met one of theirs! 

 

 

We went back to the hotel for a quick lunch while our host team did some bits and bobs in town. We studied the menu again…no change. 

After a good morning the afternoon turned out to somewhat excruciating. We went to visit one of the first ever CFE support communities which Martin has visited a number of times. We knew it was not that far away…except… the driver decided to go the long way round. Nearly an eternity in fact! The roads were horrendous; the car had ZERO suspension and the driver seemed to aim AT the pot holes. 

Sense of humour failure (Martin) and sleep (Paul) ensued. We arrived and many of the women were at a funeral but we had a very moving (for Martin) time there and clearly witnessed a huge change in their whole outlook and attitude. We could not stop them from telling us so many of their stories of transformation and change. Really very impressive.

 

Martin modelling some of the handiwork

 

 Making sure I actually left in the hire car

 

Life goes on

Onlookers

We returned to Pastor Paul’s house for supper which took about 20 minutes. Yet his house is only 30 minutes from town…WHY then had we gone SUCH a long way round? More sense of humour failure. Martin had been asked to do a little leadership teach-in for some pastors at the house which we did under the African night sky whilst being bitten to death by mosquitos! It was a lovely time and then we went inside for a delicious supper of rice, matoke, greens, pork, chicken, potatoes etc. 

We got back to the hotel after an incredibly long journey which the driver chose. He seemed to have some kind of death wish; Paul appeared to be on the verge of making it come true. We both thought that the journey in the hired shed would never end. TIA! Pastor Paul is a sheer delight and a man for whom we both have the deepest respect. It was really a great opportunity to spend time with him and his team as well as to see first hand the reality of the work he and his church are doing. 

 One for Charlie!

We had a quick beer and went to bed ready to set off for Masaka (50 miles from the Tanzania border) in the morning. 

Note to readers – the above has all been written by Martin. For Paul Tuesday represented 12 hours of his life that he would never get back. Enough said! 

Wednesday and we left around 9.00 but not before Bennett, our man Friday, suggested that Martin’s request for a boiled egg would take 30 minutes to prepare and therefore may not be deliverable. He offered an Spanish omlette instead.

We had had the bikes wonderfully cleaned for £1 each so set off on pristine bikes for the 150 mile leg to Masaka. The journey was mixed but we rode it well. Plenty of dust and mud as well as some tarmac. We arrived at the Zebra Hotel around 12.30 just in time for a cold beer and some lunch. Greens, matoke, chicken, pork and potato all on offer! 

We took a look at our plans for the next few days in the Tanzanian wilderness and have decided to take the ferry from Bukoba tomorrow night to Mwanza from where we will drive to Nzega. If it works it will save us riding a lot of boring miles….we will see! 

 Clean bikes

As usual the bikes have been admired by some of the guys here. We have parked them up in the shade and two of them obviously decided they needed a clean so they have given them a fantastic clean and have been happy to receive (as were the last guys in Iganga) 5,000 UGS per bike which is just over a pound. Yesterday Pastor Paul thought we had paid too much.

Relaxing at Zebra and updating the blog.

 View from Hotel Zebra

Kampala to Iganga the treacherous way

After a good night's sleep we are both looking forward to breakfast, and bearing in mind this is a $150 a night hotel, have high hopes.

What a mistake that was! We enter the restaurant to be greeted by the usual metal tins containing stewed greens, baked beans that have been reheated so many times they are now dark brown and an assortment of unmentionable, inedible offerings.

I therefore settle for a coffee and a banana, Martin goes for some tea and a boiled egg. The coffee has a terrible burnt taste and the yolk of Martins egg is grey. We leave both. Terrible! In the meantime there is a TV blaring out some poorly dubbed African soap, and the guy on the next table is treating the place like his personal office – he has three mobile phones, one for each network as is common over here, and they are constantly ringing. Each phone has the Nokia ring tone and they are going off every 30 seconds.Very irritating.

We have organised a late check out as Martin has a few people to meet, so I have a leisurely morning doing not very much at all which is really quite nice.

We leave at 2.00 filling our bikes at the petrol station opposite the hotel before joining the road to Jinja, AKA the road from hell. The traffic is absolutely solid making it impossible for us to slip through the gaps, so we are resigned to crawling along for the first few miles behind barely moving trucks that engulf us in thick black smoke from their worn out engines every time they shunt forward. Really there is no way to describe how hellish these roads can be. You have no idea unless you have seen them. They take every ounce of our concentration and the key is to remember you have plenty of time and if in doubt,,,don't! there is normally a surprise around every corner so caution is key.

Eventually we clear Kampala and the traffic lightens, although the road is abysmal with potholes, patches and a greasy surface made even more slippery by the recent rain. Nevertheless, we make good progress and reach Jinja within the two hours we had estimated it would take to reach Kakira. The bikes are sure-footed and planted and they continue to amaze us. 

We overshoot to the entrance to the sugar plantation where we are due to visit the Tumaine children’s home. We arrive after a quick back-track and have about one hour to see the kids after they are home from school before we have to set off for Iganga and find the hotel before dark. We have a brief but intense time with the kids. Some of them Martin has got to know over quite a few previous visits. He writes… It was so great to see the young people and children again. They are all in good health and were full of news. Big hugs all round with the ones we have got to know well over the years. Much singing and dancing and some good chat and prayer with the older ones some of whom graduate from secondary school this year, futures uncertain. Pastor Nicholas was very gracious and understanding about the necessary brevity of out visit. We get away on time and ride east to Iganga arriving at dusk. 

 

 Obvious once you see it!

Martin had been told to look out for a hotel with animals painted on the walls. Paul Kabunga could not remember the name as the hotel is new. It is our only chance of a comfortable night. After much searching we were none the wiser, not an animal in sight. We stopped at a couple of petrol pumps and the guys knew the place and gave us directions….yes…directions which turned out to be…RIGHT! As darkness fell we were welcomed into the bosom of the Hotel Continental (no similarities possible!). It turns out to be full of keen people and good clean rooms. It has only been open a month. We decide to stay 3 nights and avoid the complexities of staying over with Pastor Paul. He is happy with that. And so are we.

We had a good supper and had some good banter with our waiter and all round boy-Friday Bennett. He has been giving it his all. We also met with the chef Gideon who had cooked a delicious vegetable curry. Best night’s sleep for a long time. Possibly because we have had separate rooms and certainly for Martin the lack of Paul’s snoring was bliss. That said, I’m sure he is grateful for the respite from my continual farting! (not sure about continual. This is high fibre territory at the best of times!)

 Bennett and Gideon

 

Might need to spell check the menu?!

We had a leisurely breakfast consisting of poached eggs cooked like bullets and a decidedly dodgy sausage but the pineapple and banana was good! We were able to sit in the right place to see both of the TV’s that were blasting out different programmes at the same time which meant we did not have to make conversation. One of us watched a dubbed Spanish soap and the other watched Tahiti vs Nigeria (6-1 Nigeria in case you were interested).

Martin realised that despite much clandestine pant washing almost all his clothes were filthy and covered in red mud from the journey so they have ‘picked’ his washing at the hotel. BTW 12 items of beautifully washed and ironed clothes cost 15,00 UGS  which is £4. Try that pricingstrategy at the launderette! 

Pastor Paul picked us up at around 10.00 and we went to visit his offices, meet his team and then head out to one of the St James supported communities. Poverty levels were clearly very high and we visited the home of a woman who was caring for 4 children, a fairly uninspired husband and some crops. Her main income generating activity was making mud bricks. 

 

 Brick making...no easy task. Let alone for women

Washing drying at the home we visited...seriously!

 

 Some of he intrepid women we met in Iganga

She was very impressive as she was winning against the odds in every way.  Believe it or not thanks to the local church training and equipping her for this business her lot has dramatically improved. The people we met were so positive about their future which is exactly what the ministry of the local church is about. Bringing genuine hope and practical support. 

 

 Women meeting us at the little church building

 

 Welcome committee!

  

Some children in the village

  

We took lunch at the Continental Hotel with Pastor Paul and some of his team where most of the menu was ‘not there’ or ‘out of stock’ but Bennett did his best to keep us fed with something.

We took a stroll into ‘downtown Iganga’ during the early evening and Paul carried out his ongoing threat to sample some street food. The two Mandazi he bought for 2p were  duly purchased much to the hilarity of the stall-holder women and then after one mouthful were passed on to someone who was asking us for money. At least he had a go!

 

 Street foodie!

Martin did manage to get about 10 of the stall holder ladies to crack up completely.  As he passed by he looked over his shoulder at them and then executed a perfect Norman Wisdom trip! There was an explosion of laughter at the ridiculous Muzungu! The people in town were so friendly and fun and we will return tomorrow to get fresh fruit, avocado and tomato to bring to Pastor Paul’s for supper. 
 

 

 We will be back tomorrow to buy

 

Pastor Paul could not resist!

It is interesting to note that there is such a fine line between being in the midst of the authentic culture of Africa and being shielded from it whether that be by a motorbike, a pastor or a hotel gate. There is no substitute for just stopping and getting out there to sample it all.

Here are some great scenes from our down-town stroll:

 

  

 

We rest for the remainder of the afternoon, taking the opportunity to review the blog and read the comments left by our friends and family.

Final day of ‘veeeseets’ tomorrow and a soiree at Pastor Paul’s.