Uganda

A hot shave! The camp site at Eldoret

Leaving Lake Nakuru it was time to head towards Uganda where some very unpleasant bother, an encounter with chimpanzees and white water rafting were waiting for us.

To break up the long journey we overnighted at a camp site near the town of Eldoret, just south of the Cherangani Hills. The contrast with the privations of our Lake Nakuru camp site could not have been greater.

For the first time since my arrival I was able to shave with hot water and the showers were superb. There was even a pool, although we arrived too late to make use of it.

Leo was given the evening off and we all enjoyed a variety of curried dishes with various nan beads and chapattis as well as rice and chips, served on a real table that we could all sit around. Afterwards we retired to the cosy bar area and sat near the log fire whilst JJ briefed us on the next day's journey.

For me, the highlight of the camp site was the fact that the owner had numerous dogs of various sizes and breeds who came into the bar and in some cases even slept on it. I love dogs and to be surrounded by these guys was just brilliant.

Rejuvenated, we continued our journey the next day and crossed the border to Uganda, which was a novel experience.

On the Kenyan side of the border we were besieged by young boys between the ages of 10 and 14, all trying to sell us something - cold drinks mostly. Much to the amusement of the rest of the group and me the boys kindly referred to me as 'grandfather'. Despite this apparent insult I did build up a rapport with them and handed out a few of the gel pens I had brought with me.

Wherever you go in East Africa there is a universal language - football. When in doubt just shout 'Wayne Rooney!' and it is sure to bring a cheery smile and a wave. On this morning I was wearing my Hull City shirt so, like a good grandfather, I decided to teach the boys a song.

If you ever have the pleasure of crossing the border between Kenya and Uganda and are accosted by a group of young boys singing 'Mauled by the Tigers, you've been mauled by the Tigers', whilst pretending to err, maul like a tiger, then I apologise profusely.

On the Ugandan side of the border it was a different story. Here there were men in yellow coats vying for our attention.

There is no bureau de change as such at the border, so these guys will change money for you. The key is to get the best rate. Therefore we simply handed our money to Leo and he then bartered on our behalf. It was like a feeding frenzy. The higher the denomination of the bank note the wilder these guys got. It was frantic. I wish it was a bit more like that in the post office. Perhaps I'll write and suggest it.

As we journeyed into Uganda there was a subtle change of mood in the world outside Isobel and it wasn't for the better. Wherever we went in Kenya we encountered nice people. The children especially captured my heart. Sometimes, for no obvious reason they would explode with joy at the sight of us going past. Sometimes jumping up and down and waving and sometimes running alongside the truck for as long as they could. At times their exuberance would end in the inevitable cry of 'Give me money!' But mostly they just seemed happy to see us and I never tired of waving back to them.

In Uganda the reaction was often the same, but less frequent and occasionally the men reacted in a way that made it clear that we weren't welcome at all. It was obvious that even shouting 'Wayne Rooney' or 'David Beckham' was not going have a disarming effect.

Our long journey ended at a camp site near Jinja. The plan was to stay here for two nights and the next day, Saturday, would be a free day for us when we could undertake optional activities or just chill out.

The camp site , whilst not as well appointed as Eldoret, was still excellent and I once more I won out in the tent lottery. I had a huge, walk in tent to myself. So big that it housed a double bed and I got to sleep off the floor for once.

Better still, right next to my tent there was a flimsy fence which guarded me from the drop into this huge river. It was enormous and although the nearby waterfall was not big it still gave off that reassuring rumbling sound of power and might.

I had not been expecting to camp next to a river and certainly not one as mighty as this. I was highly impressed.

Having settled into my humungus tent I made my way to the bar for the first beer of the day. Sadly, there was no Tusker. In Uganda there was a different beer and it was only when I looked at the label that it finally dawned on me what the name of the river was. The beer was called Nile Gold.

Not only were we on the River Nile, we were also very close to what is regarded as the source of the river, about 10 miles away at Lake Victoria. This was the White Nile and as its waters rushed past the cliff top bar it was hard to imagine that it would eventually join up with the lesser Blue Nile and emerge into the Mediterranean Sea, 4,000 miles away in Egypt. That would be one heck of a game of Pooh sticks.

Exodus, the company I travelled with, produce very extensive trip notes that can be downloaded and printed. I had read the notes for this trip but clearly not even noticed any references to the Nile. When I told JJ about my delight at finding we were next to this iconic river he seemed very pleased. In his view, travellers like me are much easier than the ones that want to hold him to account for everything that is written in the notes and complain about any deviations. It is not always possible for things to go to plan.

As JJ told me this he had no way of knowing that even as he spoke something was happening just 50 miles away that could seriously affect our journey and maybe even curtail it. In Kampala, to the south west of us, there was serious street violence. Shots were fired and people died.

Kampala was our next port of call.