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The
Journal Travel Journal Africa Africa Day 80 - Nairobi to Arusha (Tanzania) Another
shockingly early start (must have been nearly 8 in the morning)
saw us wave the Andrews' household a sad goodbye as we headed into
town for the last time. We
had planned to get the vehicles down to CMC Motors, the Land Rover
dealership for Kenya by mid-morning. However, we had not factored
in a 'Caleb breakfast' (Caleb is the Andrew's genius of a cook).
A few hours later than expected and very full, we found CMC Motors
in the industrial area of Nairobi and explained our worries concerning
Ernie's turbo (we had noticed that morning that it was leaking oil),
electrics and windscreen. As this was Friday, we arranged to bring
Ernie back first thing on Monday to have the problems investigated.
We had the opportunity to meet Mr Forster, CEO of CMC who was a
friend of the Andrews' and who kindly phoned across to the Land
Rover workshop to help keep costs down in view of the aims of the
project. Kembu is only a few hours drive from Nairobi so we were able to take it slow in the morning. Andy & Duncan went for a run, whilst Giles & Austin studied their pillows and we set off around lunchtime. The roads improved slightly and we made good time. As we headed out of the Great Rift Valley the heavens opened making our views from the top not quite as spectacular as we'd hoped but still pretty impressive. Andy did his bit for the local economy by buying more tatt for his collection and we headed into Nairobi just in time for rush hour. It was at this point that we noticed the electrics starting to go awry in Ernie, as per usual for us nothing was ever simple and during the journey to Nairobi we had realised that when you pressed the break pedal the fog light came on. This in itself was initially nothing more than entertainment for the car following but subsequently proved a little more of an issue when, on repeated breaking, it shorted the entire dashboard and all break lights out. Less entertaining for the following car. We would now definitely be needing the attention of the dealership in Nariobi. Following the Mobile Medics principle of trying to navigate through a major city without a map, Andy's memory served us well and we made our way up to Karen, on the outskirts of Nairobi to some friends of Andy's family. Ronnie and Astra Andrews were both out when we arrived (fair enough as they thought we were arriving the next day) but we were met by Caleb, the Andrews' cook who was to prove to be Andy, Austin and Giles 'feeder' over the next few days. Ronnie and Astra soon arrived home and remarkably didn't throw us out on the spot. In fact they said that although they were going away for the weekend we were welcome to stay in their house. Ah, we'd landed on our feet again. Their hospitality was utterly amazing - thank you. That evening Duncan caught a flight back to England to attend Marika and Ed's wedding (congratulations to you both) and on the way to the airport we experienced a peculiarity of Nairobi driving. It seems that it's compulsory in Nairobi to only have one headlight working and to compensate by having it on full beam. Makes it interesting when it's raining torrentially and there are no street lights. We'd decided to head for a campsite a few hours drive outside Nairobi, which meant a fairly long day's drive, including the border crossing into Kenya, so we got up early so as to be able to have time to take in some of the sights on the way. During the vehicle checks we noticed that Ernie's coolant needed to have about a litre added to reach its optimum level. Hmmmm. We'd have to keep an eye on the temperature gauge and see what happened - at least his temperature gauge was now working. Stopping
briefly at Bujagali Falls we headed out towards the Kenyan border.
Ugandan roads continued to impress us and we reached the most organised
looking border post so far. Naturally, the customs official wasn't
around but he was soon located and quickly enough we were across
the border and into Kenya. The Kenyan border was far more like we'd
remembered - a multitude of offices to visit, all surrounded by
hordes of money changers, insurance brokers and general touts for
this and that. Despite having a Carnet, because we wanted to bring
our foreign registered vehicles into the country for more than two
weeks we had to pay $40 for each vehicle as well as $50 each for
our single entry visas. The immigration official laughed when Duncan
told him the Lonely Planet said the visa should be free for British
citizens. About three quarters of an hour beyond the border Ernie's temperature gauge began to climb again. We stopped and opened the bonnet to hear a hissing sound coming from the end of one of the radiator hoses. The mechanic hadn't forgotten to fill up the coolant, it was that the jubilee clip holding the hose was broken and so coolant was slowly leaking out. Time for some more 'Welsh tanning' (no sunscreen, midday sun) until Ernie cooled down and we were able replace the jubilee clip and refill the coolant. Hopefully that would now be sorted. The delay meant that we thought we wouldn't make it to Kembu Campsite until 5ish but sadly the atrocious state of the road in this part of Kenya made that a wildly optimistic aim. This road is the main truck route from Mombassa to Uganda, Burundi and Rwanda and it seems that it hasn't been resurfaced for years so is in quite a state. Austin wasn't happy and we arrived in Kembu after dark, something we normally tried hard to avoid. An old farm, it's a fantastically tranquil place made slightly less peaceful by the three overland trucks that were already there (including the one we'd seen in Kampala and Jinja). Deciding we'd like to get to sleep at some point in the evening we decided to splash out (£7 each!) on the lovely cottage at the top of the grounds. However, not wanting to appear rude (or old) we spent a good proportion of the evening in the bar and enjoyed experiencing the overlander's antics (including the stereotypical Australian - 'he's a Victorian!'). Phoning Shane, we were told that the Land Rovers should be ready that afternoon and so we spent the morning enjoying a hearty breakfast and generally getting ready to be 'on the road again'. When we arrived at SAS, not only had Bert & Ernie been given a thorough clean, but Shane told us they'd managed to find and fix all the major problems. A grinding sound we'd been hearing was due to our prop-shaft having worked loose (!), they'd fixed the faulty handbrake (just full of dirt), all the electrical problems (mostly faulty dashboards in both Bert & Ernie) both vehicles had been given a full service, they had removed and refitted Ernie's fan (it had been fitted the wrong way round in N'Djamena) and they'd sorted out a few other minor cosmetic details (the result of our head-on assault of the jungle). We'd noticed that there was intermittent failing of Ernie's power steering and Shane had worked out that this was due to the belt slipping, a problem caused by the replacement, non-standard fan assembly, done in N'Djamena. There wasn't much that he could do, but he'd replaced the belt to see if it might improve matters. However, the problem we were most keen to see fixed was Bert's loss of power, something which had plagued us since The Gambia. Shane had discovered a hole in one of our turbo hoses (he very generously said it was in place that would have been very difficult for us to have located) and he had replaced it. This had resolved the loss of power and he assured us that the smoking would slowly resolve as all the soot worked its way out. The turbo did now make a high pitched whine which was due to dirt having worked its way in through the hole in the hose but there was nothing we could do about that, either it would be ok or would break and need replacing - time would tell. At over £1500 for the turbo before fitting, it was something we would wait and see about. Given the amount of work he'd got through, and the fact it had all been done in under a day and a half, we were a little worried about the size of the bill. Amazingly, Shane charged us only $600 - we cannot recommend Shane and SAS highly enough to others with Land Rovers in Kampala. In hindsight maybe we should have stayed longer in Kampala and let SAS do all the work needed on Bert & Ernie, but we were keen to move on and aware that the Land Rover dealership were expecting us in Nairobi. We didn't want to offend anyone and hoped that at least we'd got most of the expensive stuff out of the way. Happy in the knowledge that Bert & Ernie had been given the all clear, we headed off to Jinja, the town at the head of the Nile, two hours drive from Kampala. Sadly, as we entered Jinja, Ernie started to overheat. After allowing him to cool we found he had almost no coolant in his system. We were pretty upset and called Shane who said we should wait another fifteen minutes and then fill up the coolant system - he would try and find out what had happened. After filling up with water, we headed to a backpackers on the edge of the Nile and on the way Shane called back; he'd spoken to one of his mechanics who thought perhaps he had forgotten to refill the system after removing the hoses. Shane was extremely apologetic - we supposed anyone could make a mistake and at least no harm had been done. We can't imagine the mechanic was looking forward to the next day at work. The first backpackers had already been invaded by the overlanders we'd seen in Kampala and wasn't doing food, so we headed onto Jinja Backpackers, further up the river. Though it was dark by the time we got there it was in a stunning setting overlooking the falls which attract so many people. They were still doing (small) meals and we were able to enjoy a nice evening, happy to be moving again. We got up and dressed in our 'smart' clothes and packed all our stuff away in to Bert & Ernie. It was possible that after visiting The Mildmay Centre and Shane we might be on our way to Jinja that afternoon. Mildmay is a UK based Christian charity which recognised wide ranging effects of the HIV epidemic in the late eighties and has since has set up centres worldwide aiming at the holistic care of patients with HIV/AIDS. We felt it would be a useful experience for us to visit and observe their work, particularly because they concentrated on aspects of HIV care other than the pure pharmacological treatment of HIV, which is usually beyond the financial reach of most Africans. They have also extended their work to the provision of rural health clinics and education of rural people, something Hope for Africa are planning to do with Bert & Ernie. The Mildmay Centre in Uganda is a quite incredible place, a large modern Western looking medical centre perched on one of the many beautiful hills on the outskirts of Kampala. Adult HIV care is out-patient based, with patients being referred up from the hospitals in Kampala, and caters for all the patients' needs - from treatment of opportunistic infections through nutritional advice to spiritual help. On the paediatric side (the paediatric wing is called Jajja's Home) children are given the same medical care with the added resources of a day centre, physiotherapy and in-patient care facilities. There seemed no area that Mildmay had failed to provide for and we were quite amazed at both the breadth and quality of care that they managed to provide. Dr. Onzanne met us and told us that she had actually just returned from holiday and today was the day they were beginning to prescribe anti-retrovirals (ARVs) which were being funded by the USA. The funding was going to cover around 1200 people and was a massive boost to the Mildmay project, who until now had only been able to offer ARVs to people who were self-funding or who could find sponsors. Although it was going to be a difficult to decide who to allocate the drugs to, it was definitely a step in the right direction, and one all the staff were very excited by. It meant that everybody was very busy but very kindly they still all made time for us and showed us around, explaining how their project operated. We were very kindly shown around both Jajja's Home and the adult centre by Margaret the PR officer and after again meeting Dr. Ozanne for coffee, were introduced to Dr. Emmanuel Luyirika, the Director of Clinical Services who explained the overall approach of the Ugandan centre and the ever increasing demand. Despite Uganda's comparatively early recognition of the HIV epidemic (something other parts of Africa are still struggling to do) and the great strides they have made in attempting to control the problem, there is still much work to be done. We left The Mildmay Centre and headed back into town to see if we could find Shane. Down a road (Eighth Avenue) which you need a Land Rover to get down, we found the SAS garage. Shane (a slight resemblance to Joe Pesci?) is a great bloke who thoroughly sorted us out. He had a quick look at our 'problems list' and then a good look at both the Land Rovers. He was totally confidence inspiring and told us that although he thought they would be safe to drive to Nairobi, we'd then have to pay a small fortune for the work to be done at the dealership. He said he could do most of the important stuff by the end of the next day but was not at all pushy and in no way seemed to be touting for business, which seemed reassuring. He is obviously a complete Land Rover and Range Rover nut and took great delight in showing us the 6.3 litre V8 engine he was planning to fit into his Range Rover. We decided we could just about handle another day in Kampala and decided to leave Bert & Ernie in his care. Given we'd already checked out of The Blue Mango, we headed over to The Red Chilli Hideaway, a slightly cheaper and more back-packer orientated place. We'd stayed here in '99 and it hadn't changed much, which was no bad thing. That afternoon a group of overlanders arrived - our first of the trip so far - we really were back in civilisation. Katy invited us out for a meal that evening and took us to a local restaurant that served fabulous steak. We had a wonderful evening and are indebted to her for all her kindness. Whilst the rest of us tidied up a few jobs (airing the tents and fitting the new tarpaulin to cover Ernie's tent), Andy headed off to church with the friends he'd met the day before. On returning, he'd noticed that Bert was overheating - the temperature gauge just hitting the red when he drove into the Blue Mango. A quick look under the bonnet revealed no coolant left in the system and a broken fan belt. With a new fan belt fitted, Bert started and ran well and fortunately it seemed no damage had been done. We'd also noticed that the slight leak from Ernie's rear hub (which had been going on slowly since the Gambia) had become more pronounced with the higher speeds in Uganda so we decided to take the advice of Andy's friends and seek out Shane. Shane is an Italian-Kenyan who runs a garage called SAS, specializing in Land Rover improvements and repairs. After a brief phone conversation during which it quickly became clear that the problems we had far exceeded Andy's mechanical knowledge, Shane kindly agreed to have a look at both vehicles the next day. Whilst at church, Andy had met Dr. Katy Ozanne who worked at The Mildmay Centre, a very successful HIV/AIDS treatment centre on the outskirts of Kampala. Giles had contacted their English wing before we left and had arranged for us to visit when we arrived in Kampala to observe how Mildmay had set about tackling the HIV problem. Given the fantastic results Uganda has had in managing the HIV epidemic we felt The Mildmay Centre would be a great example for us to see and Dr. Ozanne had kindly agreed to show around the next day before seeing Shane. We all agreed it would be unfair not to let Giles experience the delights of Khana Khzana and so headed back there for the evening's meal. We hadn't been wrong the previous evening - it was excellent. The Blue Mango's breakfast proved an admirable tonic for some but sadly not all and so Austin and Giles spent the day indulging in some R&R whilst Andy & Duncan headed to town to buy a tarpaulin for Ernie's tent (the zip had broken on the cover and so was not waterproof any longer). Due to Ernie's faulty hand brake, parking in hilly Kampala proved pretty entertaining, but with Andy continuously driving Ernie around the block and after some amusing bartering (something British shopping should definitely take up) we bought a bright orange 15 foot square tarpaulin (Ernie was going ginger) and headed onto the American Club. Andy's Dad was due to fly to Nairobi that evening before heading back to England and it was nice to be able to thank him again for all his help in getting us this far. After a short stint in the gym (thanks for the encouragement Mr. S.) we bumped into friends of Andy's from his time in Kenya and randomly an old flatmate of Duncan's brother - it's a small world. Andy's friends told us that they hadn't been very impressed with the local Land Rover dealership (who also owned the Nairobi branch) and that we'd be much better off at least having a chat with a chap called Shane, a Land Rover specialist, before leaving for Nairobi. They gave us his phone number and also recommended a curry house - Khana Khzana. On returning to The Blue Mango we discovered Giles was not well ('it's not a hangover - I think I've eaten something bad') and wouldn't make it for the meal (he must have been sick). The restaurant proved to be exceptional, truly wonderful food at (for Britain) extraordinarily low prices. We were beginning to really like Kampala. We decided that Andy's Dad's reputation at the America Club was probably taking a hammering by being seen with us so we decided to head up to the Blue Mango Resort - slightly more like a backpackers - for the next few days. As we were packing up Andy received a phone call on his mobile from a number he didn't recognise. "Hello, my name's Jacques and I'm a diplomat in Brussels. I've been following your journal on the internet and noticed you hadn't posted anything since you left for CAR. Are you ok? I'm coming to the Congo next week and might be able to help if you're in trouble." As if life hadn't been weird enough. Clearly it was time to update the journal. At the Blue Mango we set about our goals of low achievement and high rest and relaxation and managed quite considerable success. Sadly Andy managed to burn himself on a motorbike (well he'd been remarkably injury free for the last few weeks) but we all got stuck into the Mongolian Barbeque in the evening and were then taken out on the town by the owner of the Blue Mango. Maybe tomorrow wasn't going to as constructive as we hoped. After a night of dreaming of driving the Land Rovers and waking at 5 only to happily realise we didn't have to get up early toady, we all met for breakfast. It soon became apparent that we were all completely ruined. The toll of the last couple of weeks meaning we were barely able to hold a conversation let along get anything achieved. Our attempt at a game of Scrabble resulted in one of the lowest individual scores of all time (30). Oh dear Giles. We decided the best thing to do was lie by the pool and try to get ourselves back into working order. We felt Bert and Ernie would probably make it onto Nairobi before needing any of the many little jobs we want done - there is a main dealer there who is expecting us (again courtesy of Andy's Dad). It was fabulous to achieve nothing and travel nowhere all day. As we were passing through the Game Reserve, we made a pre-dawn start, hoping to see some wildlife as we travelled south. The northern section of the Park is a beautiful series of rolling green hills dotted with trees. With the sunrise to the east and the vast expanse of the Congo jungle to the west, it was a spectacular drive. We were fortunate to see quite a variety of animals in the northern section of the park including elephant, hippo and buffalo. The Reserve is split into two by the White Nile which is crossed by a small but pricy ferry. The drive down to the ferry was accompanied by some terrible sounding noises from Ernie's front right wheel. Over the last few weeks stones caught in the brake -pads had led to some perturbing sounds but this new noise had a more alarming quality. A quick inspection didn't reveal any major problems and as he had done on many occasions already, Ernie seemed to fix the problem himself over the next few miles. Very clever. We had a hearty breakfast on the northern bank with great views across the river and towards our destination, Kampala. After a quick stop at the very impressive Murchison Falls we drove through the southern half of the Reserve which was a contrast to the north as it had no wildlife to see other than a few baboons. The drive from the Reserve into Masindi took us through fertile hills with what felt like hundreds of Primary schools each trying to outdo each other with extraordinarily bright uniforms and mottos such as 'Suffer today, Enjoy tomorrow' (inspiring stuff for those 5 year olds!). At Masindi we stopped at a proper petrol station, the first since Bangui almost 3000kms previously. The drive down to Kampala took most of the afternoon through increasingly densely populated green valleys and scattered with cows with quite extraordinarily large horns. Back on tarmac, we were reminded of the need for extra care on African roads as the huge buses come rocketing past us at ridiculous speeds. We were tired but elated to reach Kampala and drove into the centre of town, as usual with no map or directions and a phone number for Andy's Dad that seemed not to be working. Despite this, through use of The Force, we managed to stumble across Andy's Dad's office in the heart of the city. Surprisingly given our appearance, the security guard let us in and it was great to see a familiar face. We headed out through the Kampala rush hour to The American Club where Andy's Dad had booked us a couple of rooms. It was a real oasis and the perfect place to spend a couple of days recovering from what was hopefully, the toughest section of the journey south. All beards were removed and lengthy showers were taken before enjoying a relaxing meal and heading off to comfortable beds. Given it's only 40 or so miles to the border form Yei, we decided we could spend a while looking around the hospital before setting off. We were fortunate to meet the one doctor, a Sudanese surgeon, before he started his day's work. He showed us the wards, theatre and laboratory and explained the sort of work they undertake. Yei hospital serves a population of around 250,000 people; staggering given that they normally have only two doctors (one was on R&R when we visited). The surgeon was able to operate on most cases, be they anything from orthopaedics to neurosurgery, but as their anaesthesia was administered by technicians without intubation, they did not feel that major operations on infants was appropriate. These cases would be taken to Uganda. Most of the medical work was preformed by 'medics' rather than doctors and he told us that the NGOs had started treating the opportunistic infections related to HIV/AIDS and planned in the future to expand this to treatment and possibly education. NGOs had also taken on the responsibility of what little primary health care there is in Southern Sudan. Of what we'd seen of the state of the transport system, it was all too apparent that the challenge of providing health outside of the larger towns is massive. Truly staggered by the efforts of the hospital and hoping that soon Bert and Ernie might be helping medical efforts in a similar environment we headed to Major Rock's office. Sadly he'd been unwell over night and we had to wait a while but he duly arrived and provided us with an escort to the edge of town, thus ensuring we weren't given any hassle at the police checkpoint. The road gradually improved and the scenery began to open out. The hills, forest and villages make this a stunning part of the world and it was a really enjoyable few hours with plenty of photo opportunities. We reached the border post at midday where the still friendly officials decided that they wanted to search our vehicles. It was a little frustrating to have to take everything out, especially as we had crossed into the country so easily, but we felt we'd done pretty well to get this far without being searched. As the officials kept reminding us, it's no different to how customs would react in the UK if four foreigners in Land Rovers packed full tried to cross our borders. We were concerned that our computers and satellite phones might cause problems but in the end they just looked at it all and let us pack it away again. Down and up the other side of the hill and we were at the Ugandan border post. It's amazing the difference travelling only a few yards into another country can make and Uganda instantly felt far more organised and like home. When we'd last come to Uganda it had seemed exotic and underdeveloped; now it felt like the most advanced country in the world! The officials were polite and courteous, we were able to get or visas issued at the border post for the price suggested in the guide book and nobody was terribly interested in what we had in the Land Rovers. Our mood was lifting by the second as we realised that we'd got past what was likely to be the most difficult stretch of our trip. We stopped briefly in Kiboko to pick up Road Fund Licence (an extortionate £12 per vehicles - but with a receipt) and to have the Carnet stamped and then on to Arua to pick up insurance. From the border the road was a pisted dirt road, far better than anything we'd seen in the previous fortnight and on reaching Arua we made it back on to tarmac. The cheer was probably audible in London. We'd made good time and decide to press on to Pachwach that evening so we could drive the route through Murchison Falls Game Reserve first thing in the morning. The road through the park provided the link to the south of the country as the main road to Kampala was only open to convoys escorted by the Ugandan military who were in the process of dealing with the rebel LRA movement. In Pachwach we found a local training centre which had rooms just on the edge of the White Nile and settled in for the night. Giles used the last of our food stores to back what we hoped would be our last camp meal for some time. The bank and petrol station were both closed but we estimated (Ernie's fuel gauge isn't working and Bert's isn't 100% accurate) that with our final two jerry cans we would probably make it to the town on the other side of the Reserve. Our usual dawn start (the clocks had gone forward 2 hours but we were operating solely on the hours of sun light), daily vehicle checks and thanks that we and vehicles were still in one piece. The roads in Southern Sudan were proving to be pretty similar all the way and although it was becoming quite draining driving on them day in, day out, we kept reminding ourselves that at least we weren't driving in the CAR. Bert and Ernie took it all in their stride, thoroughly stunning us with their ability to drive all day over and through the potholes, mud and fallen trees. It had become pretty overcast and the showers continued all day meaning the roads were deteriorating by the minute. We felt we'd been pretty lucky to have avoided the rain whilst on the worst of the roads and hope that as the roads improved ('it must happen sometime…..') the weather would become less of an issue to us. As we neared Yei, we were confronted by the first police checkpoint we'd seen in Southern Sudan. Given the way we'd been treated so far we weren't too concerned but sadly this was the one time we were to be disappointed. The checkpoint guards (nobody wears uniform so it was difficult to know exactly what position they held) seemed a little worse for wear (maybe on the moonshine we'd sampled at the Christian Brothers?) and were looking for a gift. Coming close to telling that we were personal friends of Commander Richard (not a man to mess with, by all accounts) we decided discretion was the best option and bought them off with two Bic biros. Strangely, they didn't seem too impressed. Yei was the biggest town we'd been in so far and suffered a little by comparison to Yambio and Maridi. Perhaps it was the rain and tiredness. We were directed to the SSRC office to register and then onto the Military Intelligence office where we met Major Rock. Major Rock had a fax from Andy's Dad telling him of our project and said he'd been monitoring our progress across the country. We explained our plans to stay in Yei that night and head or the border, which he said would be fine, as long as we returned to see him in the morning before we left. We'd hoped to visit the hospital in Yei that afternoon to see first hand their medical work. Sadly the one doctor was in theatre and they said that although they would have liked to give rooms to stay in, they had no room. We agreed to return in the morning to have a tour of the hospital we asked one of the locals to take us to a lodge to find a bed. The lodge was pretty basic but had beds, a bar and evening showed a quite spectacular Dolph Lungren movie that evening. We were slightly worried by the security guard telling we needed to take our jerry cans into our rooms as they'd be stolen otherwise but still managed to get a reasonable night's sleep. Despite our concerns that Johannes wouldn't arrive with documents until late, he duly turned up with all the necessaries at 7 o'clock - a positive lie-in by our standards. Brother Declan told us that the journey to Yei, the town 30 miles from the border, would take a long day's driving. We'd become a little sceptical of estimates we were given on how long journeys take in Central Africa, being unconvinced that Bert and Ernie would hold together if driven in the way we'd seen the locals drive their Toyota Land Cruisers and trucks. We also had to make a stop in Maridi, a town about half-way, to let one of the NGOs know that we didn't need the diesel that Andy's Dad had asked them to sell us if needed so felt that we would just take it slow and see what happened (Andy's family again helping us to hold it all together). The road remained the dirt track we'd been on since the border, infinitely better than what we'd experienced at the end in the CAR but still tiring to drive on. The potholes were something to behold and were now full of the recent rainwater. This meant that driving into them was a bit of a gamble, at times they'd be little more than a puddle, but at others Bert and Ernie would be half submerged, with no way to know which we were driving into until you were actually in them. That and the patches of thick mud/mashed mangoes made for rather slow going and we reached Maridi at around 2. Because we had to stop to find the NGO office, we also had to register in the town with the SPLM officials who again were friendly and very efficient in everything they did. As there was nobody but the security guard at the NGO office, we left a message thanking them for their offer. The locals said it was about a 5-6 hour drive to Yei and we decided it would be wisest to rest in Maridi for the night and head on the next day. Southern Sudan had treated us very well so far and although we were keen to get the vehicles and ourselves to Uganda for some R&R reasonably quickly, we were quite happy to be taking it easy here. As much as anything we were all aware that as we were getting increasingly tired, the chances of making mistakes were going to be quite high if we kept pushing ourselves at the current pace. Speaking to one of the locals, we were directed to a lodge (nobody there) and then onto the Bishop's house, who apparently was the next port of call for those looking for somewhere to stay. An amazingly hospitable man, he produced tea and more superb mangoes for us and chatted whilst he asked someone to find the lodge security guard. Again, the kindness and hospitality of the Southern Sudanese bowled us over. On the security guard's return we made our way down the hill to find a secure compound for Bert and Ernie to stay in, and a building with beds and a veranda for us. The caretaker arrived and warmed some water over the fire for washing (luxury!) and we settled in for the night. That evening we were treated to another incredible thunder storm - amazing to see but slightly concerning given the state of the roads we still had to travel on. Up a little later than usual, the clocks having changed, we set off towards the next big town with the hope that diesel would be available. The road from Yubu to Yambio was, as expected given the history, very bad but at least not overgrown. All through the day there were cheery waves from locals, although bemusement was still the overriding expression! The rains had been falling heavily necessitating some hefty mud plugging and wading. This was pretty tough as by this stage, with the friendly locals and local army guys, adrenaline was fading and the tiredness was rapidly catching up. Lunch stop and it was time for the mysterious tins from Duncan's girlfriend to be donated for the common good. Bets were placed. Best beans and spaghetti hoops any of us had tasted, a beer for that girl on our return. Arriving in Yambio we had a number of places to visit, after the usual registering with the friendly authorities. The local contacts came courtesy of Andy's parents having got in touch with some of the local Christian establishments. The Catholic Relief Service generously donated part of their diesel quota to fill our tanks (thank you!), and the wonderful Christian Brothers fed, watered (rather "fiery" water!), and put us up for the night. The SPLM official (Johannes) had taken our travel permits off to be seen by the local commander, in order for him to add his authorisation to the letter written by Commander Richard and we would have to wait for him to return with them all in the morning. With full bellies, a shower and good Irish cheer ringing in our ears we slept soundly for the first time in days. Day 61: Near Sudanese border to Yubu (New Sudan) Up at, yes you guessed it, first light we were confronted by the familiar sound of bees. Vehicle checks were dispatched and proved that the sunset check was accurate, no new nasty surprises. We then hit our first major problem, where was the road? Having read about people becoming easily disorientated in the jungle we never realised just how easy it was. We had only driven 50m from the road though a clearing but it took us 20 heart stopping minutes of driving around before we located it again. Carefully we set off down the road, with a quick GPS fix to make sure we were on the right path. As we approached the South Sudan border (also known as New Sudan by the local population) the road was overgrown but relatively flat and passable. Soon we came across what was the old village on the border before the troubles led it to be abandoned. It was very eerie passing through burnt out huts, graves and mango trees full of ripe fruit. Previously the places we had passed through all the trees had been harvested by the local population but here there were thousands of ripe mangos lying around the remains of a once thriving village. Actually this proved lucky for us as stores were running a little low - scavenging for fruit amongst the monkeys in CAR jungle is about as far from Sunday roast in Blighty as we could ever get. The
road itself had a few more surprises in store, including a very
steep rocky decent, made all the harder by the thick coating of
crushed mangos on our tyres. Sitting
round in his home we were furnished with refreshments and nervously
waited whilst he inspected our papers. After the all the problems
in CAR with papers and various checkpoints all the team were on
tender hooks. There was no need, Commander Richard laughed heartily
uttering the immortal lines, "these papers are very good, you
are part of the rebel alliance" (well not precisely but you
get the gist!). Day 60: Mboki to Near Sudanese border As light appeared so we woke, this time to the sound of voices. Given our fear of discovery we quickly set about the morning vehicle checks and packing up to get away a.s.a.p. During this time a group of locals wandered over to watch the show. Friendly, as they always were, they informed us that about 50 yds away was the local school, so much for covert. The road was actually very good in places and we were able to make Obo, the last town before the border in very good time. It is here that all formalities are concluded and we woke up the various officials and got all relevant stamps. The road out of the town towards the border was very difficult to find, and stupidly we elected not to go via the market to try and pick up a machete, electing instead to crack on to see if we could cover the last 100kms in that day. Eventually we found the "road" which was little more that an overgrown farm track. As we passed through small villages the, by now familiar, bemused looks increased in their intensity. Clearly very little (no) traffic had passed this way, in fact the army checkpoint completely forgot to ask us for money such was their confusion. The road at times was little more than a footpath, very overgrown and very steep with huge rocks. Bert and Ernie simply lapped it up constantly stunning us with their ability to get traction, particularly given that neither of them was in full health and both are carrying about 4 tonnes. Clearly we were in the presence of off road masters, we were mere Padowan monkeys by comparison. Just after a "lunch stop" (our usual 2 minutes to swap drivers) of the last of the biscuits we burst out onto a clearing to be confronted by a large secretary bird prowling around, cue humming of the Jurassic park music. At this stage all was going well, although the road was rough it was passable and the only problem was the constant rolling around of mangos on the roof "harvested" as we burst through the undergrowth. Suddenly Giles' mechanical sixth sense reported Bert lurching alarmingly to the left. A quick stop and we had our first puncture of the trip, a testament to our fabulous tyres. Despite the lack of previous practice Mobile Medics set to work like a well oiled F1 pit crew, although there was enormous trepidation about using the high lift jack after our previous attempt. Within 25mins we were on our way again. Just 10 minutes later, coming up a steep incline, Bert hit trouble, sliding and beaching himself on the rear differential. With an inability to get himself off, all eyes turned to his partner in crime Ernie. Some hacking of the forest and Ernie was driven past. Shackling him to his partner we tried in vain to free Bert. To no avail, so shovels were unpacked and Duncan and Andy began to hack away at the rock hard ground, whilst rocks were gathered to attempt to provide a ramp to run him up on. All available weight was removed to help the escape. The heat was oppressive, but the flies were unbelievable, Duncan at one point sporting his own "cape of flies". Eventually a channel for the diff was mined out by the sterling efforts of Andy and Duncan and Austin gingerly sat in the driver's seat for the attempted "Houdini". Diff lock was gingerly engaged, something we had always avoided after the horror stories of a phenomenon known as "wind up" whereby the diff explodes, spare diffs being a little hard to come by in the CAR jungle. Bert, however, knew best and merely pulled himself free. Once again we were on our way, but by now chastised by the first minor failures of the trip. As
if to add insult to injury just 5 minutes later we came across a
fallen tree blocking the path, previously there had always been
a route around but this time there was none. As Giles climbed up
on the roof to get a good GPS fix the rest of the crew began to
cut a path. Then the saw blade broke, leaving us with a junior hacksaw
to tackle the jungle trees. Before long tyre irons, hammers and
sheer body weight was employed to break a path, with a little careful
manoeuvring both vehicles made it around. The GPS reading informed
us that we were still at least 35km from the border and reluctantly
we concurred that to push on this tired may cause even more problems.
Despite our enormous reservations about camping in the bush of no-mans
land between CAR and Sudan we set about trying to find somewhere
suitable. |
