The truck is a masterpiece for overland travel. Almost as high as a double-decker bus, its roll-up sides mean that you can travel with full panoramic views of the countryside. Below is a vast storage area housing everything from tents, gas fires, tables, luggage and stools, to washing powder, garlic crushers and bags of charcoal. Everything has its place and is packed to perfection.
Split into teams, we take it in turns to cook, pack, clean or guard the truck. Food is bought from local stores and cooked on gas fires or a charcoal bbq…and it’s up to us to decide what to cook. So far we’ve had some pretty amazing food from beef stews to fried fish to egg fried rice with chicken. Breakfast usually consists of eggs on toast, eggy bread or scrambled eggs (fortunately everyone likes eggs :) ) on a lazy day or cereal on an early driving day.
The mornings are often a test of stamina. Showers in Africa are rarely hot and neither are the mornings themselves. There’s an art to having a shower: turn on the tap, make sure that there is absolutely no chance of hot water by letting it run for a while then put one leg in to wet it, take it out, soap it up then stick it in for another split second to wash off the soap. Repeat this for each limb and each section of your body one bit at a time. Shaving and hair washing often get forgotten about until we reach a destination where there’s hot water. Surprisingly, you soon get used to showering in cold water and get it down to a quick 2 minute turnaround. And when you do find a shower with hot water, you make sure you make the most of it!!!
On truck days we often have long drives but we usually stop pretty frequently for loo stops (often behind a rock, on a hill side and frequently in view of curious locals), wildlife spotting or food shopping. Whilst we drive, we chat, read (or in my case blog) and watch the amazing sights of Africa roll by
Every evening we turn up at a campsite and put up our tents, sort out our gear and either have a cold beer or kick start dinner depending on what team we’re in. I’m pretty lucky because I have a tent to myself for the next three weeks as we’re an odd number. I’ve got putting a tent up and down to a tee so it takes me less than five minutes each way.
When we find destinations where there’s plenty to do (gorilla tracking, white water rafting, bungee jumping etc.) we stick around for a few days and take advantage of the surroundings. It also means time to catch up on laundry and time to chill out in the African sun!
Monday, 12 October 2009
A place called Karen
On Sunday after my glacial shower, Jolie, Gareth and I decided to head to an elephant orphanage not far from Karen camp.
The orphanage was reasonable with baby elephants being handfed in front of a bunch of gawping tourists. The keepers gave a short description of the background of each elephant (stuck in mud, victim of poachers, stuck in a well) before feeding the them with oversized baby feeding bottles of milk. The elephants were housed in small huts at night where their keepers also slept on a bunk built into one of the walls.
The funniest thing we saw here was a warthog attempting to get into an enclosure which held an orphaned rhino. Large bamboo poles surrounded the enclosure and the overly enthusiastic warthog managed to get his head stuck as he tried to get in. This resulted in him skittishly jumping around and kicking his back legs up in an attempt to free his head from the bars.
After heading back to the camp, we decided to walk to Karen proper to find some food. We met up with Rachel and Dom and headed off in the lunchtime heat. The roads are dusty and busy with buses and minibuses bombing it along, people hanging off all sides, the horns blaring continuously.
Everyone was in their Sunday best and on their way to church. Slender cows were being driven up the roads. People squatted and waited for nothing in particular. It was fascinating just to wander and watch.
We walked for a good half hour until we came across our first restaurant…Japanese! Deciding that whilst in Africa we ought to be eating African cuisine we carried on. At Karen we found the only other restaurant in the area – a Mexican joint. Having walked for a fair while we decided to settle for tacos and burritos!
The evening was a quiet evening in Karen Camp. Henry was busy under the truck trying to fix the brakes before we left the following day. The plan was that we’d set off about 8.30am and hitch a lift with the truck that was going south as far as Karen and that we’d wait there until Henry finished fixing our truck when he’d come to pick us up.
The orphanage was reasonable with baby elephants being handfed in front of a bunch of gawping tourists. The keepers gave a short description of the background of each elephant (stuck in mud, victim of poachers, stuck in a well) before feeding the them with oversized baby feeding bottles of milk. The elephants were housed in small huts at night where their keepers also slept on a bunk built into one of the walls.
The funniest thing we saw here was a warthog attempting to get into an enclosure which held an orphaned rhino. Large bamboo poles surrounded the enclosure and the overly enthusiastic warthog managed to get his head stuck as he tried to get in. This resulted in him skittishly jumping around and kicking his back legs up in an attempt to free his head from the bars.
After heading back to the camp, we decided to walk to Karen proper to find some food. We met up with Rachel and Dom and headed off in the lunchtime heat. The roads are dusty and busy with buses and minibuses bombing it along, people hanging off all sides, the horns blaring continuously.
Everyone was in their Sunday best and on their way to church. Slender cows were being driven up the roads. People squatted and waited for nothing in particular. It was fascinating just to wander and watch.
We walked for a good half hour until we came across our first restaurant…Japanese! Deciding that whilst in Africa we ought to be eating African cuisine we carried on. At Karen we found the only other restaurant in the area – a Mexican joint. Having walked for a fair while we decided to settle for tacos and burritos!
The evening was a quiet evening in Karen Camp. Henry was busy under the truck trying to fix the brakes before we left the following day. The plan was that we’d set off about 8.30am and hitch a lift with the truck that was going south as far as Karen and that we’d wait there until Henry finished fixing our truck when he’d come to pick us up.
An introduction to Africa…my first three insights!
Generators: the functionality of a generator dictates almost every aspect of life in Africa. Last orders at the bar are when someone decides to switch the generator off. If the generator dies then only cold foods or soup are available on a restaurant menu. If you get up before a generator kicks in (my schoolgirl error on the first day) you will inevitably have a glacial shower. If you use the internet and it is run off a generator, expect to pay more than stated on the price list. If you intend to dry your hair with a hairdryer, expect to blow the fuse of a generator (as experienced by Jolie and Jenny). And if you hear a generator, always have a head torch to hand as there is no saying when it will be switched off for no obvious reason.
Infinite optimism: something you pick up very quickly when you arrive in Africa is that no one wants to be the bearer of bad news or worse still, no news at all. Ask a question to an African and they’ll give you an answer…not necessarily because they know the answer but because they feel like they ought to give you one regardless. Ask someone for a price and they’ll give you a figure but it may bear no resemblance to what you actually end up paying. Ask for directions and they’ll point somewhere whether that is the place you wish to go or not. Ask whether something is available on a menu and they’ll say yes and then let you wait for an hour or so before delivering the bad news. It’s great to meet such positive people but sometimes it can make life more complex than you’d planned
T.I.S (This Is Africa): nothing happens very quickly or as you’d expect in Africa. Order a hot chocolate and you may easily wait an hour for it. Hand over even a small note and the person on the other side of the counter may spend a good 15 minutes trying to find change. One day you can have boiling hot water running from a tap; the next, no water at all. A canoe trip that cost 2 dollars yesterday will cost you 4 today. A road trip that once took 4 hours may take 10 hours for no apparent reason. Come across any such case and the best thing you can do is shrug and think ‘never mind… T.I.S’.
Infinite optimism: something you pick up very quickly when you arrive in Africa is that no one wants to be the bearer of bad news or worse still, no news at all. Ask a question to an African and they’ll give you an answer…not necessarily because they know the answer but because they feel like they ought to give you one regardless. Ask someone for a price and they’ll give you a figure but it may bear no resemblance to what you actually end up paying. Ask for directions and they’ll point somewhere whether that is the place you wish to go or not. Ask whether something is available on a menu and they’ll say yes and then let you wait for an hour or so before delivering the bad news. It’s great to meet such positive people but sometimes it can make life more complex than you’d planned
T.I.S (This Is Africa): nothing happens very quickly or as you’d expect in Africa. Order a hot chocolate and you may easily wait an hour for it. Hand over even a small note and the person on the other side of the counter may spend a good 15 minutes trying to find change. One day you can have boiling hot water running from a tap; the next, no water at all. A canoe trip that cost 2 dollars yesterday will cost you 4 today. A road trip that once took 4 hours may take 10 hours for no apparent reason. Come across any such case and the best thing you can do is shrug and think ‘never mind… T.I.S’.
Meeting the team
Karen – an ex-colonial stronghold, now home to wealthy Africans and Asians – was my pitstop for two days before the Africa Trails tour started on the Monday.
At Karen Camp (the local campsite and white Kenyan hangout) I met the team I was to be travelling with:
- Rachel and Dom - a British couple from Cornwall who were on honeymoon
- Jolie and Gareth and Nicky and Griff – two kiwi couples on their way home to New Zealand from London
- Ravi – a pharmacist from the US
- Jas – an engineer from Telford
- Clare – a solicitor from London
- Shane and Laura – a couple who had been travelling with Africa Trails for the last 4 weeks and were heading back to Aus after the gorilla track
- Jenny – a kiwi who’d just climbed Kili and was joining us for a three-week tour
- Jon – an animator from the UK
- Nat – an aussie guy who’d joined the tour at the last minute after working at camp in America
- And last but most definitely not least, Henry – our local driver for the next three weeks and his specially designed truck
We were going to spend the next three weeks together, heading deep into Uganda to Bwindi forest – situated only 2km walk from the Democratic Republic of Congo – where we were going to come face to face with some of the remaining 710 mountain gorillas. After that, some of us were heading south to Jo’burg or Cape Town, whilst others would hop on or hop off along the way.
At Karen Camp (the local campsite and white Kenyan hangout) I met the team I was to be travelling with:
- Rachel and Dom - a British couple from Cornwall who were on honeymoon
- Jolie and Gareth and Nicky and Griff – two kiwi couples on their way home to New Zealand from London
- Ravi – a pharmacist from the US
- Jas – an engineer from Telford
- Clare – a solicitor from London
- Shane and Laura – a couple who had been travelling with Africa Trails for the last 4 weeks and were heading back to Aus after the gorilla track
- Jenny – a kiwi who’d just climbed Kili and was joining us for a three-week tour
- Jon – an animator from the UK
- Nat – an aussie guy who’d joined the tour at the last minute after working at camp in America
- And last but most definitely not least, Henry – our local driver for the next three weeks and his specially designed truck
We were going to spend the next three weeks together, heading deep into Uganda to Bwindi forest – situated only 2km walk from the Democratic Republic of Congo – where we were going to come face to face with some of the remaining 710 mountain gorillas. After that, some of us were heading south to Jo’burg or Cape Town, whilst others would hop on or hop off along the way.
Safari in Terminal 5
Terminal 5, Heathrow and I’m surrounded in a sea of khaki and name badges. Yes it’s an American tour on route to the safaris on offer in Kenya. And yet somehow, with their khaki shirts, trousers, hats, fanny packs and walking boots, you’d think they were already there. Now in my humble opinion there’s something extremely odd about wearing full safari get up at the airport. Whilst khaki is perfectly practical in the savannahs of Africa, there it really ought to stay. Sat in khaki in Terminal 5 you can only ever end up looking somewhat an idiot, especially when the outfit is accessorised with a ‘my name is…’ badge. Wrong….just wrong!
Monday, 5 October 2009
Sunday under the Eiffel Tower
My brother’s mate (Thanks Pete!) was kind enough to put us up on the Sunday night and for the Monday night we managed to find a 4-bed room in a not-quite-one-star hotel. Our thinking was that we’d be able to sneak an extra body in without anyone realizing. Having sorted our accommodation and changed our tickets to leave Paris on the Tuesday, we now had some time to see the sights of La Belle Paris
In the meantime we still had all our luggage with us. As we were still close to the youth hostel we’d stayed in two nights before, we decided to try and see if we could leave it there. We were in luck as a shift changed meant there was someone different on reception. One little white lie later and we were rid of the bags and heading for the Eiffel Tower.
After losing and then re-finding one another at possibly THE biggest tourist attraction in Paris we sat on the grassy area in front of the tower with our daily picnic of ham, bread cheese and wine. Here we passed another chilled out, inexpensive afternoon watching the infinitely fascinating characters that were attracted to the area.
There was the obese American lying on his side, his swollen belly making and all-too-visible escape from his shirt whilst he took photos of his slender porn star/prossy wife/girlfriend, the wannabe rapper gesticulating frenetically whilst walking amongst everyone and rapping what appeared to be the alphabet in French, a couple who really ought to have got a room, and the man selling 3 mini Eiffel Towers for 1 euro who made a speedy escape with an unsuspecting tourist’s handbag whilst the police stood on and watched.
By 8pm we made our way back to the hostel to pick up our bags and 2 hours, 1 bomb scare, 2 jumped metro barriers, and 8 checks of the map later, we arrived at the metro stop close to my brother’s mate’s house. Finally we had somewhere to sleep! Pete’s flat was an uber trendy, open-planned flat more suited to housing a couple than 5 homeless strays. Pete was extremely welcoming and we each soon had floor, sofa and sofa-bed (the three girls shared a double!) for the night.
Sunday, 4 October 2009
Four nights in Paris
So, Paris! As we’d only done 4 days work we had just over 200 euros in our back pockets. Most of us were already out of pocket having paid the hefty registration fee to the agency we used and transport to the farm. Now we had to head to one of the most expensive cities in the world. We got the train to Paris (50euro) then, after much phoning around to find a youth hostel with a spare dorm, we had to fork out a hefty 29 euro per person.
None of us had the money to spend 29euro a night on accommodation so we resolved to find somewhere cheaper the following night. If only it hadn’t been a Saturday! We looked into hostels, we checked out hotels and even did a ring found friends and family but, having drained the batteries of our laptops and with little battery left on our phones we were still homeless. Sleeping rough was now our only option.
We left our kit at the youth hostel and headed out to see the sites and scope some places out to kip. After losing each other at the Louvre and walking up Les Champs Elysees we grabbed a bite at a Swiss restaurant then stockpiled bread, cheese and wine (we found bottles at €1.30 a pop) to get us through the night.
Looking at the map we noticed the Bols de Bolonges - a large grassy area about the size of Hampstead Heath. This we decided would be our place to kip so we walked there to check it out. At first sight, we thought we’d hit gold. It was wooded with grassy areas and families cycling around. ‘\perfect!’ we thought. But then as we cut through a wooded area, all wasn’t quite what it seemed. \In a very small area we came across an unusually high number of condoms and wrappers. Some were neatly knotted at the end; others, not so.
It was time to consult the ‘Book of lies’ (aka the Lonely Planet) which we’d indefinitely borrowed from the youth hostel. All became clear. Whilst the Bols were a great family day out by day, by night they were, I quote, ‘an adults playground where male, female and transvestite prostitutes tout for work’. Hmmm…maybe not such a great place to camp after all.
After spending the afternoon at the park we resolved to head back to our youth hostel to pick up our bags. The plan was to be as discreet as possible so that we could spend as much time as we could in the warmth of the reception. It worked! We walked in, told the guy at reception we were just picking up our bags, then managed to subtly sit at a table round the corner from reception drinking wine and eating bread, ham and cheese until 1am. Unfortunately it was lock-up time and the guy found us. We explained that we were being picked up in half an hour giving us a little time to prepare for a night out on the streets.
Finding a place to sleep on the streets is surprisingly difficult. The good spots we found (quiet, out of view) were all already taken. When we came to a bridge over the river (just down from Notre Dame) we thought we were in luck and headed down to see if we could kip beneath it. Unfortunately it was already taken, and given it had the aroma of a rather potent urinal, we decided it be best to give our new found neighbor a little space and move a little further along the path.
Here we set up camp. Initially we sat around drinking the final few bottles of wine, watching rats scurry about and entertaining fascinated passersby but then it was time to crash. Attaching our bags to ourselves and putting valuables at the bottom of our sleeping bags, we lined up in our sleeping bags and snuggled up for warmth. Surprisingly, we slept, waking up at 8am. What’s more, despite being in full view of a main road, we were left to sleep in peace without being moved on.
Having spent the evening festering by the river in Paris, we decided that freshening up was in order…and where more appropriate than the local McDonalds. Taking up the entire corner of a newly renovated McDonald’s café we ate, showered with baby wipes and began our daily search for accommodation.
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