The red bus, with Antonio at the wheel, started making some worrying noises, struggling to get into gear. As I’ve mentioned previously, our trusty red bus and green bus have bumped us through thick and thin this week, our constant companions on the crazy Ugandan highways. I wouldn’t have been surprised had Tarzan swung by on a loose jungle vine. Far more like a rainforest, copious members of the monkey family made up for the absence of giraffes and elephants. The vegetation and landscape over this side of the River Nile was very different to the savanna. Huge volumes of water gushed in all directions, swirling and rushing toward itself in dramatic splashes, it was incredibly loud and powerful as it made its way over the rocks to spill violently into the Nile River below.

The rocky viewing platform allowed us undisturbed (and unfenced) views of this tumultuous aquatic phenomenon.

Thankfully the road was accessible, despite the high rainfall and we got to experience the sheer power of the Falls from this superb vantage point.

If the road was not flooded, the plan was for us to view Murchison Falls from the top. The shopkeeper thought it was Christmas when our two busloads of cashed up muzungus piled into his laden little shop. The souvenir shop had a treasure trove of African goodies, including beautiful timber bongo drums covered in cow hide, polished cow horns, hand made African rag dolls complete with babies in back pouches, earrings, nose rings, toe rings, key rings, pouches and vouchers, fashion and percussion, postcards and playing cards. With the pit toilet horrors I’ve endured so far this trip, I decided I’d rather cross my legs than brave another nightmarish ablutions block.

They were delighted to receive tips from our team as they shared their talents from underneath the boughs of my favourite: the sausage tree.īuses and bodies boarded the ferry that took us directly across the Nile River and we disembarked to find a fabulous souvenir shop and an amenities block. Two older gentlemen, with a handwritten sign reading “Hot Music in Park” were playing through their extensive repertoire, which was really just one long song. As we pulled up at the slippery ferry wharf, the sweet, melodic sounds of the adungu – a curved Ugandan stringed instrument made of hollowed out wood – were wafting through the warm morning. Our packed bags needed to be at the Lodge reception by 7:30 sharp and we were to be fed and watered and ready to roll at 8:30am. We have let a little “African time” mentality seep into our psyche so it was good to be pulled back into line. Last night, Stephen and Fred had stressed the importance of being ready on time this morning.

Ready for Weather by Sarah Jones