Day 196
Sleeping location: Liz and Paul’s apartment, Kampala, Uganda
Distance (km today/total): 88 / 13652
Estimated climb (m today/total): 900 / 103200
Last riding for: 17 days
Distance (km today/total): 88 / 13652
Estimated climb (m today/total): 900 / 103200
Last riding for: 17 days
Day in three words: The Crazy 88
In the night I dreamt that I was impeaching Trump and that my expert questioning got him to shut up for once. I seem to have very strange dreams away from Rebecca. In the morning I got talking to Adrian and Kim, a British/Kenyan couple who were visiting Uganda from Nairobi with their two excitable little boys. They were very friendly and we had a good conversation over coffee. On the offchance I asked them if they knew James Duder, a uni friend who now lives in Nairobi, and they both exclaimed “Duder!” in a very enjoyable way. Turns out they know him pretty well; it’s a small world. As the resort was in a beautiful spot I stuck around for a while as I didn’t have loads of ground to cover to Kampala. The grounds contained the Speke Monument, which proclaimed that John Hanning Speke “discovered” the source of the Nile in 1862, which is problematic as it ignores a) the fact that the actual source of the Nile is actually in Burundi, nowhere near here, and b) the many many many other non-white people who had discovered it first. Man still got a monument though. On the way of the grounds out I came across a huge troupe of monkeys with lots of babies and youngsters playing in the grass. They fled as I approached but accidentally left a tiny baby behind, which sat in the middle of the track staring at me in a confused way. At the last second a mother ran back, scooped it up and took it to safety, which was one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen. We’ve come across lots of monkeys by now but it’s still always a delight.
I took a slight detour on the way out of Jinja to visit the 1954 dam across the Nile, which was the main road bridge until they built the fancy new busy one. It was interesting and I went out to the middle to take a couple of pictures, but a soldier then appeared and asked me to delete them. I thought this was a bit stupid but he was friendly and let me keep one of the less infrastructure-y ones, so I wasn’t too annoyed. On the road things were less friendly: the road was again narrow with a bad shoulder and terrible drivers, especially lorries, coming way too close. It was also very up and down, and the crappy inconsistent shoulder was ok for climbs but not descents, so I kept having to switch back to the road and constantly check my mirror. It was not fun at all. The only entertaining part was checking out the hand painted slogans on the back of the lorries and minibuses. Favourites included:
-Leave me alone
-Only God judges me
-God in control
-[And the best by far] A fake smile can hide a million tears. Please keep distance.
The landscape was weirdly British with green fields topped with evergreen trees. But closer up the fields were revealed to be full of man-high grass so maybe not so British. At lunchtime there was an abrupt and welcome change to thick rainforest, which also supplied an abrupt and welcome rain shower to keep me cool.
About 25km out from Kampala it turned to absolute chaos. The road became very busy with motorbikes swarming everywhere* and filling the tiniest of gaps, seemingly oblivious to whether or not there was already a very flustered cyclist in these gaps. As soon as possible I turned off onto a more minor road, which was bumpy dirt but at least didn't make me feel like I was constantly close to death. Kampala itself was incredibly hilly and busy but manageable. I was very tired, hot and sweaty by the time I arrived at the top of the massive hill where I met Liz and Paul, the founders of IHCC/Let the Children Hear and my hosts in Kampala. I followed them to a nearby and very lovely apartment which will be home for the next couple of weeks. (For those who don’t know, I’m spending time here to work with the charity and also see in person the great work they’re doing). After a much-needed shower and cold beer we had a tasty dinner and some good chats on the balcony, with exotic luxuries like cheese, toblerone and decent wine at my fingertips. It already looks like life here will be very different from life on the road.
For you avid blog-followers, my plan here is to do two week-long entries so there won’t be any posts for a bit. For anyone who’d like to donate to my fantastic cause, the link is here. I will also apologise in advance, to those of you who’ve already donated as much as you can**, for the presumably many times I will be saying “this thing was very moving to see and illustrates what great things are being done here and it only costs £x” in the next couple of weeks.
*The ubiquitous “boda boda” motorbike taxi.
**And also thank you, because we are already 80% of the way to my target, which is amazing.
In the night I dreamt that I was impeaching Trump and that my expert questioning got him to shut up for once. I seem to have very strange dreams away from Rebecca. In the morning I got talking to Adrian and Kim, a British/Kenyan couple who were visiting Uganda from Nairobi with their two excitable little boys. They were very friendly and we had a good conversation over coffee. On the offchance I asked them if they knew James Duder, a uni friend who now lives in Nairobi, and they both exclaimed “Duder!” in a very enjoyable way. Turns out they know him pretty well; it’s a small world. As the resort was in a beautiful spot I stuck around for a while as I didn’t have loads of ground to cover to Kampala. The grounds contained the Speke Monument, which proclaimed that John Hanning Speke “discovered” the source of the Nile in 1862, which is problematic as it ignores a) the fact that the actual source of the Nile is actually in Burundi, nowhere near here, and b) the many many many other non-white people who had discovered it first. Man still got a monument though. On the way of the grounds out I came across a huge troupe of monkeys with lots of babies and youngsters playing in the grass. They fled as I approached but accidentally left a tiny baby behind, which sat in the middle of the track staring at me in a confused way. At the last second a mother ran back, scooped it up and took it to safety, which was one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen. We’ve come across lots of monkeys by now but it’s still always a delight.
I took a slight detour on the way out of Jinja to visit the 1954 dam across the Nile, which was the main road bridge until they built the fancy new busy one. It was interesting and I went out to the middle to take a couple of pictures, but a soldier then appeared and asked me to delete them. I thought this was a bit stupid but he was friendly and let me keep one of the less infrastructure-y ones, so I wasn’t too annoyed. On the road things were less friendly: the road was again narrow with a bad shoulder and terrible drivers, especially lorries, coming way too close. It was also very up and down, and the crappy inconsistent shoulder was ok for climbs but not descents, so I kept having to switch back to the road and constantly check my mirror. It was not fun at all. The only entertaining part was checking out the hand painted slogans on the back of the lorries and minibuses. Favourites included:
-Leave me alone
-Only God judges me
-God in control
-[And the best by far] A fake smile can hide a million tears. Please keep distance.
The landscape was weirdly British with green fields topped with evergreen trees. But closer up the fields were revealed to be full of man-high grass so maybe not so British. At lunchtime there was an abrupt and welcome change to thick rainforest, which also supplied an abrupt and welcome rain shower to keep me cool.
About 25km out from Kampala it turned to absolute chaos. The road became very busy with motorbikes swarming everywhere* and filling the tiniest of gaps, seemingly oblivious to whether or not there was already a very flustered cyclist in these gaps. As soon as possible I turned off onto a more minor road, which was bumpy dirt but at least didn't make me feel like I was constantly close to death. Kampala itself was incredibly hilly and busy but manageable. I was very tired, hot and sweaty by the time I arrived at the top of the massive hill where I met Liz and Paul, the founders of IHCC/Let the Children Hear and my hosts in Kampala. I followed them to a nearby and very lovely apartment which will be home for the next couple of weeks. (For those who don’t know, I’m spending time here to work with the charity and also see in person the great work they’re doing). After a much-needed shower and cold beer we had a tasty dinner and some good chats on the balcony, with exotic luxuries like cheese, toblerone and decent wine at my fingertips. It already looks like life here will be very different from life on the road.
For you avid blog-followers, my plan here is to do two week-long entries so there won’t be any posts for a bit. For anyone who’d like to donate to my fantastic cause, the link is here. I will also apologise in advance, to those of you who’ve already donated as much as you can**, for the presumably many times I will be saying “this thing was very moving to see and illustrates what great things are being done here and it only costs £x” in the next couple of weeks.
*The ubiquitous “boda boda” motorbike taxi.
**And also thank you, because we are already 80% of the way to my target, which is amazing.
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