It's easier going up cos you're not coming down

 

We had an early start today due to the time it takes to drive to Jinja. So after a late night intense fire pit, we reluctantly set our alarms for a 6am wake up.

The breakfast was still good although many missed the replacement of the lovely melons with what looked like elbow skin fruit and they unfortunately also had the texture of what I imagine elbow skin to taste like!
Alex met us at 7am and without having to wait for Genevieve's golf cart today, we were ready to go.
A heavy rain spell on the bus meant that streams of water now occupied the outside lane on both sides of the road but Moses was a professional with water (I wasted the parting of the sea joke yesterday) and we made it slowly and steadily to Namagunga where we took a turn off the road and onto our first red dirt road of the trip. Again, Moses steadily drifted along the road until we reached a gated end point to the road.
Alex led us into a checkpoint where we paid for our entrance to Ssezibwa falls.
Our guide Francis was a legend who taught us many Lugandan words as we walked around the impressive water fall. He told us tales of the waterfall being a place of baptism for the locals and further down stream was a place for cleansing as people become one with nature. As Francis said, you cannot see nature with your hands and feet, you must use your eyes.
Mr Pitt was mocked for his footwear choice. After telling everyone to wear sturdy shoes, his flip flops were tested to the max as we navigated the granite outcrops that had firmed the waterfall in the first place. Mr Hall may have failed the risk assessment if he had seen those flip flops scaling the granite outcrops.
A sill of granite amongst the surrounding sandstone is called a granite intrusion and this seemed a topical word as we were clearly intruding on the traditional life of the wonserful people running this tourist attraction. We saw children sorted recycling heaps, men placing their solar panels outside their huts just so that they can power a single light inside and a man washing his clothes at the top of the waterfall. But yet again everyone smiled, waved and greeted us like long lost family.
Charlie Harris was in his element and Francis began teaching us many Lugandan words and he tested us one by one to see how much we remembered of his teaching. Fenella and Lydia seemed particularly adept at this Eadtern African language.

As we were clambering up one particularly steep sectionof granite, Alastair commented how it was 'easier going up 'cos you are not going down' a genius observation from the sage that turned out to not be true as down was clearly much easier than the mini rock climbing to the top of the waterfall.
As we reluctantly said goodbye to Francis (Weleba in Lugandan), we headed back onto the dirt road to hit the source of the Nile.
Without WiFi, everyone had to think of increasingly creative ways of killing the time. Naming US states, eye spy, rhyming games and discussions about food. Charlie claimed that he would rather have pickled eggs than popcorn. Images of sitting next to Charlie in the cinema then came to mind, with disturbing mental images of him opening his tupperware box during the screening of Guardians of the Galaxy to the dismay of everyone nearby as the eggs smelll overcomes the aroma of sweet popcorn and hotdogs. Then onto chocolate preferences with the debate over Cadburys cream egg. Lydia's opinion of 'why would you put icing in an egg' was inspired but was abruptly disturbed by the 'Welcome to Jinja' road sign.
Jinnja was reached before any other shocking food opinions could be revealed and the next part of our Ugandan Geography trip began.

Jinja marks the only point where water flows out of lake Victoria. The longest river in the world flowing from south to north. The higher elevation is also helped by its equatorial location and the gravitational pull helping the water to flow down from the south, up to the north through south Sudan, north Sudan and Egypt.

As we crossed the Nile bridge, we left the Lugandan kingdom for the first time and it was not long until we reached another barrier.it was clear that any kind of tourist attraction around here was patrolled by a little man in a shed who would charge you an 'International price' for entering the touristy thing that your International eyes wanted to see.
After handing over the Ugandan shillings, we were parked up and walked down a steep slope past sheds full of people trying to lure us in to buy their crafts, crafts and tourist T Shirts. 'I have been to the source of the Nile' was the most common motif alongside 'My name is not Mazungu' although judging by the calls from the stall holders, our names today we 'friend', 'brother' or to Mrs Beecham's dismay 'mamma'.
At the end of the procession of multi coloured stalls, we reached another locked gate. This time we realised that we must have reached a super tourist location as now there was another fee to be paid to get on a boat to see the real source of the Nile.
Reluctantly, we counted out the shillings although not until after Alex our guide and Mrs Pitt had somehow bartered the price down by 50%! Top bartering!
However, we should not have worried about the fee as the money was 200% worth it! Herbert our tour guide completed our bingo card of strangely familiar names (Fiona yesterday (Charlie's mum), Diana and Beatrice (the Royal connections), Francis (our very own Francis Close) and Herbert (Mr and Mrs Pitt's son). Mr Pitt showed Herbert a picture featuring our very own Herbie but Herbert just looked bemused and confused that anyone else in 2023 could have such an old fashioned name.
Thankfully Herbert was a better tour guide than he was a receiver of name compliments and he expertly told us about the river, the lake and the local wildlife. Within a few minutes, we had already seen a kingfisher. This was hugely exciting until we had seen our 20th of the day. We also saw an amazing blue tree frog, 🐸 egrets, stalks, cormorants and even an otter. The two huge lizards slithering along in the water may well give me worrying thoughts the next time I am open water swimming.

Alastair and Jamie did their best Jack and Rose impressions at the front of the ship (the king of the world bit rather than the sinking ship) and we were told by the guide about Ghandi's ashes being scattered here after his death. Although the way that Richard our second tour guide stared menacingly at me whilst he described Ghandi's exploits in combating the evils of the British empire made me feel as if Richard thought that I had personally run the Indian subcontinent during Colonialism. Before I could let him know that it had not been me carrying out the massacre of the Hindus, we were moved on to a human made island for a photo opportunity at the 'real' source of the Nile. Herbert explained that the real name of the lake is not Lake Victoria but lake Naluvale and that even the name Speke was given to the area by the evil English. Cue Richard staring at me again.
As we got off the boat at the source of the Nile island. We were about to take some photos when a lady on a stool informed us that there was another fee if we wanted to take photos. After deciding that a third financial checkpoint was a bit much for one tourist destination, we turned away and took a few selfies in front of a blue plaque that looked like it may have been painted that morning by a few toddlers with a finger paint set.
A few of us tried out the new Lugandan words to Herbert on the boat back only for him to laugh at our pronunciation and for him to explain the different pronunciation that his tribe uses for the same words. It turns out that the reason the two tribes have such similar words is that this area used to be crossable via a few large rocks in the river. The flooding of the area due to the dam built in 1949 meant that the Rocks were no longer visible. However, what remains is the word for rock. The British did not take any time learning the two dialects but they did hear the two tribes describing the rocks. The word for rock sounded like Jinja and thus the name of the town was born. It was made Uganda's capital at the time and the old buildings in the centre of town show a colonialism appearance that the rest of Uganda does not visibly possess. Even the Indian influence of Jinja still remains with older larger houses seeming to have avoided the brunt of Idi Amin's brutality. Even if they are no longer owned by Indian immigrants to Uganda.
As we set back to the port, the only thought in anyone's mind was just how amazing our mini river safari had been. We all thought we were just heading out on a boat to see the point that Lale Victoria becomes the white nile when we had actually seen more animals than we thought possible at the side of the river and when we saw our first few monkeys, 🐒 the safari was complete. We asked about hippos and crocodiles but we told that we would have to drive to Murchison to see these and we all smiled smugly knowing that the next safari adventure was just a few days away.
Alex picked a lovely little diner for lunch and we then headed off back to Speke with the memories of the waterfall, the amazingness of Francis our guide and the brilliant water safari all fresh in our minds. The long and hot journey was not enough to dampen our spirits and yet again without WiFi, it was amazing to hear the games played by all the Uganda Team on our way back.
The Ugandan words were still being used by those with a better ear for languages than myself and it became clear that Francis was a Musamesa muloninon - a very good teacher!

Hopefully we will have time for a dip in the pool when we get back but until tomorrow, Weleba for now.