Through the Impenetrable Forest, via the crow dressed in a tea cosy to the automotive war zone

It was a relief to arrive in Uganda, where people once again drive on the right (meaning left) side of the road. Well, at least they’re supposed to. We also noticed that police and traffic officers were dressed in a combination of blue/grey/white camouflage and crisp white uniforms respectively. For a place where the only snow seen in the last several million years is on top of the Ruwenzori or Mount Elgon (where we assume crime rates are fairly low) we thought these uniforms a little queer.

In Africa, we’ve always got space for a little more.

We entered Uganda near Kisoro, passing a large, unfenced UNHCR camp on the side of the road just a few kilometres out of the town. This was Nyakabande Transit Camp, the first refuge for people displaced by recent violence in the DRC. Moments later we were toiling up a seemingly endless switch-back road which climbed a wall-like mountain range. The road was being expanded and tarred so we wound our way between dump trucks and front-end loaders and beneath pneumatic drills balanced precariously on the cliffs they were drilling. We just couldn’t help wondering what the EU Health and Safety Regulations Board would think of this one.

Southern Uganda is significantly less populated than Rwanda and almost as mountainous.

Whizzing down the other side of the mountain (which is always frustratingly quick compared to climbing it) we popped out at the northern end of Lake Bunyoni. We’d been told that, if we take the little dirt road down this beautiful lake’s eastern shore, we’d soon arrive at a very nice overland resort which buzzes with fellow travellers. Keen for some conversation other than each other, off we went. After 25 kilometres of near constant climbing we arrived in the dark and exhausted to a warm reception from the manager who politely said we had the place all to ourselves. Eventually the only other two guests emerged from their chalet but when Murray asked them what part of Germany they came from and they politely had to explain that Israel wasn’t part of Germany, well conversation understandably dwindled.

From Lake Bunyoni to Ruhija, near Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, all we did was climb. Climb, climb, climb. And maybe cry, a little. Who would’ve thought that, when cycling into an “Impenetrable Forest” it’s not the forest that’s the problem. It’s the mountain the forest is sitting on! The road to Ruhija passes through a short section of the forest. It is an absolutely incredible experience moving through this ancient ecosystem. We felt like T-rex or at least a pterodactyl would pop out from behind a tree at any moment, but all we saw were monkeys, a black-faced duiker and LOTS of birds.

Arriving in Bwindi was an important milestone in the trip.

Our reason for visiting Ruhija was an invitation from another South African based organisation which is trying to do something special for our continent. The Rare Finch Conservation Group (RFCG) was founded by a group of South Africans with the intention of identifying and conserving the world’s most endangered and rare finch species, starting with Africa’s. They’re currently focusing on the infamous Shelley’s crimson-wing, a pretty little bird about which we know almost nothing. The Shelley’s is endemic to (i.e. only lives in) the Albertine Rift Valley, a very narrow stretch of the continent from northern Rwanda through southern Uganda. Furthermore, it is an Afro-montane specialist, depending on these fairly high altitude (and now extremely fragmented) forests for its survival. Luckily the infamous mountain gorilla shares this specialised habitat dependence and so their fame has helped conserve the last few pockets of forest. Still, hardly anyone has seen a Shelley’s crimson-wing! In the past 10-odd years, only three or four sightings have been reported and only one photograph taken of a Shelley’s! This is despite the numerous bird enthusiasts who visit these areas and the gorilla trekking that happens alongside.

Bet Hannibal and his elephants wished their passes looked like this!

So the RFCG have been working with the Ruhija based Institute for Tropical Forest Conservation (ITFC) to try and find some Shelley’s and establish how many there are, why they’re so rare and if they’re getting rarer! The ITFC consists of a great group of people who facilitate all sorts of research in Bwindi. Their deputy director, Miriam van Heist, welcomed us warmly and showed us around the institute, explaining the wide range of work they do on everything from gorilla conservation to weather and carbon monitoring to developing sustainable models for harvesting rights within the forest and support for local communities. One example is the Batwa, an ethnic group of pygmy people who inhabited these forests for hundreds of years. Having been displaced by the declaration of the National Parks, the ITFC is helping them conserve their cultural heritage, historic knowledge of medicinal plants and their ties with places of spiritual importance located within the forest. For more info on forest conservation, the projects they do and volunteering, visit the ITFC blog at http://www.bwindiresearchers.wildlifedirect.org.

The ITFC were great hosts and are doing some really cool, important work.

Benson Bamatura is the RFCG’s “man on the ground”. A Ugandan bird guide by profession, Benson has incredible knowledge of the country’s birds, spanning all of the national parks and conservation areas. His passion for birding is even more impressive and he has been carrying out netting research in Bwindi and Mgahinga on behalf of the RFCG on and off over the past few years. Benson was kind enough to come visit us at Ruhija and show us some of the dense jungle he has to work in whilst pointing out some pretty cool birds along the way. If you are thinking of birding in Uganda, I doubt there is a better man on the planet to show you around – contact Benson at birdwithbenson@yahoo.com.

After four fun (but pretty cold!) days poking around Ruhija and the ITFC, we remounted the saddles and rolled down the hill, heading north towards Fort Portal. Unfortunately the mountains weren’t done with us yet and we enjoyed more bumpy roads through tropical forest, tea plantations and terraced pastures. Then, all of a sudden, bam! It was flat. We’d reached the southern end of Queen Elizabeth National Park and before us lay the classic “East African savannah”. We even saw an elephant a little way off the road, to legitimise the whole scenario.

The Kazinga channel is a large, sluggish piece of water that connects lakes Edward and George. Our second night from Bwindi was spent on its shores, camping on the edge of Katunguru village. On the way to our campsite, we hadn’t cycled 50 metres from town when we happened upon a group of 8 buffalo, casually grazing just a few paces from the road side! The village primary school was not 15 metres from the other side of the road and the relaxed nature of this man-alongside-beast lifestyle was amazing. Reaching our campsite, we watched more buffalo bathing on the channel’s opposite shore and asked the camp manager if animals ever kill people around here,

“Ah, no. If you are not bothering them, ah, it is no problem.”

We did notice that subsistence agriculture around the village wasn’t exactly in abundance which we suppose keeps human-animal relations a little simpler. Instead, the channel was dotted with little wooden-dugout fishing canoes, sliding quietly across the glassy surface as if not to disturb the peace of the encroaching dusk.

Evenings overlooking Kazinga channel on the edge of Queen Elizabeth National Park are not easily forgotten.

After dodging an elephant first thing in the morning, the ride to Fort Portal was long with a fair climb towards the end. A very kind guesthouse owner (Allan, of Allan’s Guesthouse) let us camp in his garden so we could depart afresh for our headlong race to Kampala. The road east form Fort Portal was tough, with some steeply rolling hills, but otherwise largely uneventful. Murray narrowly avoided fisticuffs with a raving elderly gentleman who was most indignant at our refusal to buy him beer. We enjoyed another sleepless night in a guest house-come-discotheque and another night in a clean, spacious room which was guarded by a plastic model crow dressed in a tea cosy. If that wasn’t vogue enough, across the courtyard stood a life-size model of a topless woman in a skirt, holding her breasts. Often one of us would leave the room and start, averting our eyes for a moment because, in these sorts of establishments, happening upon the real-life version is really quite likely.

Kampala is, thus far, the most dangerous place we’ve ever been to on a bicycle. Most of the roads resemble a moonscape and road rules seem to work on a make-it-up-as-I-go-along basis. Traffic lights are no more than a suggestion and street signs; well we can understand why government wouldn’t want to divert your attention from the road any more than necessary.  Combine this with the swirling ocean of boda-bodas (motorbike taxis), most of which carry between three and four people, and you have an experience which makes bungee-jumping seem dreary. Nevertheless, we’re here, alive and fattening up well for the final push east – to Nairobi!

This shattered water pump testifies to the ever present maintenance and abuse issues associated with aid infrastructure. Simultaneously, the steady stream of water flowing from it shows the potential of areas like southern Uganda and Rwanda; where sub-surface seasonal springs which drain the mountains can be harnessed to provide flowing water to people. This community had another, working pump installed close by.