For the eyes.

Writing from a houseboat in the Holland.

Carpe quickyinternet. Taking the opportunity to post some photos we would have liked to have posted many moons ago.

We begin with our trek up (and down) Mount Kenya:

1. Day 1. I fed the wildlife. Biscuits. *Moves dirt around sheepishly with toe.* But my trespasses did allow me to take several dozen photos of these little brown birds. Mountain somethingorother. Here is one midstep. Cute, eh?

2. Day 2. The peaks! I think the one we climbed, Point Lenana, is hidden... Please note the lobelias.

3. Day 3. Old Man's Beard Moustachios in the vertical bog. Manchu and French? Or is it Belgian?

4. Day 1. Ostrich lobelia! Our favorite. This little one in particular was one of the first we saw. They grow much bigger. Upwards of 7 feet (no joke).

5. Day 4. Chameleon. A beautiful thing, no?

Next, tidbits from Nanyuki to Lake Bunyonyi:

1. A scorpion uncovered near Lake Baringo.

2. Kylie, Limo (our "nature walk" guide) and the cliffs. We climbed up (an easy bit) for a soul-at-peace view of Lake Baringo at sunset.

3. A giraffe amidst the greenery of Hell's Gate National Park (Lake Naivasha).

4. Tea time at the Tea Hotel (Kericho). Worn charm.

5. Tea!



6. A sitatunga - the world's only semi-aquatic antelope - in Saiwa Swamp National Park. Poor beasts. 2 square kilometers is all they have left...

7. Bougainvillia in the first of the outdoor showers (Marich Pass).

8. The river running behind our favourite camp (Marich Pass).

9. Sunset on the Ssese Islands.

Time for bed!

More tomorrow perhaps.

Best,

Sancha.

Wirlwind through Tanzania (aka Kylie ate goat)

poa kuchizi com ndizi nani frigi

Likely butchered that a hundred-fold but it's something about being as cool and clean as a banana in the fridge...oh my.

It's been awhile since we've written and we've of course had many adventures in the meantime, so I think I may address them in list form and we'll see how long I last in this stuffy internet cafe where I have limited arm movement due to my dress and have seen a number of mosquitoes circling above.

1. After a 21h (yes, that's right nearly an entire day) bus ride from Kampala to Arusha we disembarked only to be swarmed by touts and after steadfastly refusing, donning our bags and tromping off in what we believed to be the right direction one of them took "pity" (pity being naturally laced with ulterior motives that we were too exhausted to care about) on us and walked us to our hotel (very cute, bright and clean Catholic hostel). After a day of hunting for tours we found ourselves, two days later, at the base of Mt. Meru with two rather fit couples, one German and one British, in their 30's/40's. Mt. Meru was a lovely, lovely climb, though it didn't quite measure up to Mt. Kenya overall. We spent day one hiking though cloud forest, day two doing a similar hike only to find SUNshine! at the second hut and climbed up Little Meru (3800m) in the afternoon. The next morning we set off for our summit hike at 3am and it was absolutely beautiful. We followed our guide Godwine up first to rhino point and then up along a ridge around the ash cone from the volcanic blowout and up to the peak (Socialist peak, 4566m). As we neared to the peak the sun was rising and we could clearly see Kilimanjaro in the background, it was a stunning hike and strikingly different going up and down despite it being along the same path. After making our way back to saddle hut (Godwine complimented us by writing "extremely fit" in our comments sections) we then headed down to the first camp to spend our last night and hiked out the next day.

Kylie is losing paaaaaatience....

2. Off to Lushoto in the heart of the Usambaras there we
a. Ate delicious food at the Irente farm
b. Looked out over the Usambaras and down a 1500m drop to the valley below
c. Met Eddy the Ediburgh rugby player from NZ who joined us on the rest of our Usambara adventures.
d. Spent a day at the Mkuzu waterfalls (the sun came out!), swimming in ice cold water, sleeping in the sun, spotting chameleons, and Eddy believes he saw a green mamba that skirted across his shoeless feet...
e. On our third day we set out for a day hit to the Mzumbai forest (some of the only virgin rainforest in the area). We first took a daladala to Soni, then to Bumbuli and then walked along the road. And some more. And still some more. We kept asking and everyone kept pointing along the road so we kept walking. After a few hours we finally came to some forest and kept walking in search of the guesthouse that was rumoured to be hiding in its depths. When we came across the guesthouse we were surprised to see that it was a perfectly maintained colonial home with wood floors, massive bathrooms, down comforters, a usable hearth, and absolutely no one except the care taker inside. We decided that we couldn't pass up the opportunity to spend the night and sent Eddy off to the market on the back of the caretakers motorcycle to fetch us the ingredients for dinner. We took hot water bucket baths in the enormous bathtubs, curled up next to a roaring fire and pondered over how this place could possibly exist. (note: the Swiss owner up and left in 1981 and hasn't been seen since but somehow it's still being funded and is run).
f. Next day we returned to our home at the Karibuni lodge in Lushoto for a satisfying dinner of beer, buns, and peanut butter. Day after, Dar time!

3. Experienced first real African traffic jam in trying to get back into Dar's city center after cruising out of town to get our Dar-Nairobi tickets (so soon!), we did make our ferry on time.

4. And here we are on Zanzibar, a gorgeous town despite being full, full, full of tourists. We've had a lovely day and a half just wandering the narrow, maze-like streets and eating and snacking all day long (dates, coconut, fresh bread, bananas, coffee, spiced cookies). The sea is gorgeous and we're heading to the beach tomorrow for a couple days of swimming, frolicking and sunning ourselves. We've just come from the fish market where we dined on skewers of red snapper, shark fish, kingfish, prawns, tuna, fallafal, casava, salad, and drank cane sugar juice with ginger and lime (yummmmm). We of course finished off with a banana chocolate zanzibari pizza, essentially fried dough with banana and chocolate inside and covered in sweetened condensed milk and chocolate sauce.
Oh food.
Alright, I need water, and some stretching, and some fresh air and packing.
Take care, much love, and hopefully I will be seeing you all soon!

Water

Water. I suppose that is the theme of our Ugandan travels.
Since the rapids at Jinja, we have seen the surging rush of Murchison Falls.
Followed by the endless waters of Lake Victoria around the Ssese Islands.
And finally, the deep cool of Lake Bunyonyi.

Some days ago (I don't know when) we left Kampala in search of the Ssese Islands.
A matatu took us to Entebbe (the nearby airport town) from which we caught the ferry to the islands. A pleasant place! Very green and very friendly. Kylie and I *ahem* invested in olive oil and a bottle of white wine.

[Our camp cooking has been improving. Our first meal was a tasteless mash that consisted of tomatoes and partially cooked beans mixed with unsalted ugali. Mmm. Now, after some collecting, we've upgraded to some tasty things. For example, pasta with a tomato sauce that includes garlic and onions sauteed in olive oil (not no-refrigeration-necessary margarine). The other night we improvised a peanut sauce for our green beans. Not half bad!]

The ferry ride (4 hours long, not the single hour cited by the guide book) brought us in sight of a paradise. Endless water, lush green veg and tidy white sand beaches. Disembarking we were greeted by a young man holding a sign for Hornbill Camp. A short walk along the beach brought us there.

Not too much to write. Ky and I spent our days reading, walking and talking in the sunshine. Venues for reading included: a) reclining chairs, b) hammocks and c) the sand. I swam a bit too... maybe not the wisest decision as the shallows are host to Bilharzia - a liver parasite. Easily treated (one horsepill in 6 weeks that will make me ill for two days should set me right) but a bit disconcerting.

Ha! Noteworthy was the couple running the camp - Tina and Dika. An odd but fantastic couple.
She had the biggestfunniest laugh I have heard in a long time. Maybe best described as an inhaled guffaw? The kind of laugh that made others pause to have a listen.
Both man and wife were hilarious, but especially together. The time we spent at the little bar left us with sore faces from smiling too much. Fantastic story-tellers.

(Internet) time is short.

After the island Ky and I hopped over to Lake Bunyonyi.
Caught a bus to Kabale. A bus that was too full to accommodate another bum, thus we stood for a good couple of hours. The man beside me was rather large and kept taking swigs of his Bond 7 whiskey, but he was very helpful in directing us as to where we should get off to catch a connecting flight.
Beautiful lake. Very cool, very deep, and free of hippos, crocs and Bilharzia! Swimming in the morning, swimming in the afternoon and swimming at night. Bliss.

Next, Tanzania!

Best wishes.

Bits of Tid

Ahoy from Kamp-ooo-lala!

Kylie and I arrived this morning on an overnight bus.
And what a bus it was!
Began the journey from Kabale at 9:30 pm. Seated in seats 47 and 48.
We were (more than a little) dismayed to discover that the bus had a television. One music video was followed by another. Homemade-quality compositions in Luganda, Swahili, or English and most often featuring a generously proportioned lady (with a booty to keep time) in tight-fitting clothes.
Worse. (Or better?). We were then treated to Forest of Promises, parts I and II. The story (as far as I could gather) of a female police officer and her forbidden love for her convicted-of-man-slaughter charge who, naturally, saved her from the cocaine dealing ambusher. What more? She was engaged to the police chief. Many intense dialogues with furrowed brows. Ha! Evidently a product of these parts, but in English. Instead of subtitles in the local language, one man dubbed the whole ting... but not over top of the sound track. Rather, he spoke in place of the sound track. The result of which was a few seconds of frantic gunfire or impassioned speech interrupted by monotone translation.
And then the horn! Short three-note jingles sped up and blasted into the night air. Sent Kylie and I into a fit of exasperated giggles... until the lady seated behind curtly asked us to close our window.
Arrived, mostly sleepless, in Kampala at 3:30 am. Many passengers hunkered down in their seats to wait out the sketchy hours of the early morning. Ha! I grabbed the long back seat for a couple hours of shuteye, but was followed shortly by a man with hot sweaty feet... we touched.

Not sure how much ground there is to cover, but I would like to attend to some tid-bits. Following shortly, a few short stories.

To begin, The Midget, the Albino and the Woman with the Wandering Eye.
It took yours trulies two days to reach Murchison Falls to the North.
The middle bit took us from Masindi to Bulisa. (Did Kylie mention that?)
Bulisa = tiny town, but within 1/2 an hour we: a) bought water from a little person, b) were served beans (and beans only) by a lady with a wandering eye and c) passed by an albino on our stroll to the petrol station. Encroyable!

Next, for those who were at Mpala, The Recurring Incident of Edupu's Extraordinary Shirt, FTA.
Do you remember Edupu's special chemise? The one with black and yellow and fringes and texture?
You thought it was one-of-a-kind, didn't you?
Nay! We've seen it crop up here and there all over Kenya and Uganda! Sometimes black and yellow, sometimes black and blue, and other times red and black, but always, always stunning.
Who makes them?
Who sells them?
What marks a man to buy one?
Eternal mysteries.

On the menu, our excursions to Murchison, Ssese and Bunyonyi.

A la prochain,
Sancha Pants... and the other one.

Hello Uganda (and AK47s on bicycles)

So despite not much time passing since the last post we have been making quick progress, fueled in part by the startling realization that there is only a month and a week left in our grand adventure and that we have two whole countries to cover in that time! (well "whole" is certainly ambitious because it looks like we will be seeing very little of both Uganda and Tanzania). Nonetheless, as the title so states, we have come over from Kenya (the land of ugali) to Uganda (the land of matoke) after a quick day stop in Eldoret (supposed cheese capital of Kenya but we didn't manage to find the factory) to visit with Josephat from our field course, so lovely!
It took a full 10 hour day of traveling to make it to Jinja, our first Ugandan destination, after starting off the morning in a matatu bound for Malaba (Kenyan border town) with our backpacks on our laps and a swervy drive who did not cease to pick up passengers despite the obvious lack of space we were eventually transferred to another matatu (a little roomier but we were placed in the death seat up front though we consoled ourselves that our bags would serve as ample padding should we crash). Now, this matatu ride was going quite smoothly until we pulled into a gas station, another bus pulled up and almost as if out of nowhere a shouting match of the century began with men materializing from thin air. Almost as quickly as it had started it died down and we took off (though without a new driver and no word of the change). The walk across the border was largely uneventful and it was a nice change to stretch our legs.
Oh, but I lied, the crossing did go smoothly save for the border guard threatening to arrest Sanchters because her visa said two months and not three (woops, we forgot about that one) but we managed to get away with a stern warning after his "How would you feel if I let you go through and put your friend in prison" elicited only raised eyebrows and "really?"s. On the other side we wandered our way into Malaba (the 2nd!) and waited approximately two hours for our matatu (though I believe they are called taxis here) to Jinja. At first we were disbelieving of the price because it was about twice the Kenyan price for an equivalent distance but after consulting with other passengers we came to the conclusion that Uganda transport is indeed more pricey.
Jinja is a rather plain town, with plenty of hotels and tourist establishments but nothing much to draw interest other than being situated at the source of the Nile. Our driver didn't realize that we were stopping in Jinja and so only after we had crossed the Nile did I question whether he was aware of our intentions. Nope. Oh well we took a couple bodabodas to town (but not before serving to amuse a passing car stuffed with wazungu as we negotiated with a growing crowd of motorbike drivers). We had our first experience in a Ugandan restaurant (no we don't have that, or that, or that either...actually all we have is matoke and beans). We saw some cycling guards in teal uniforms with AK47s strapped to their backs (a first), discovered that roadside chapatis are EVERYWHERE and exceptionally delicious (and dangerous), discovered that Kylie's visa is not co-operating, and stocked up on 5 mangoes for 70cents Canadian.
The following day we took off up the Nile for Adrift's base and were rather overwhelmed by the amount of wazungu that swarmed the place. We spent the day watching people throw themselves off the bungee tower, reading, setting up tent, making dinner, feeling self conscious and having our first glass of wine (that we bought ourselves). The next day saw both Sanch and I free falling towards the Nile attached by our feet with a springy cord (we both launched ourselves and didn't have to be pushed, quite proud), making our way through class five rapids (highlights involved being smashed in the face with a paddle, not while being thrown from the raft but by our guide during our team cheer...Kylie hides her face in embarrassment, going over a waterfall, eating mzungu food, being smashed in the face with a raft and Sanch on top...it was a fabulous day). Go team Tutu.
So today finds us in Kampala, the capital of Uganda, after a bit of a confusing morning that involved the bodaboda driver dropping us off somewhere that was neither Jubilee park nor the center of town we managed to walk to the town center (at least he brought us onto the map). We spent the morning wandering the curvey-name-changing-mass confusion streets until eventually we found the coffee shop we were seeking and paid home prices for coffees that were as good as any good latte you can get at home (it's been awhile). We have spent the rest of the day wandering, eating Ethiopian food, and we're planning on finding ice cream (a hail storm prevented us from ice cream the last time we tried in Kitale...not joking), eating the best Indian food outside of India (reputedly), and watching Harry Potter...yup, that's right, it's a much needed western day for us. Oh, and dealing with visa...joy.
We have no idea what we're doing next, but we're picking up the pace a little bit to fit in everything we'd like, that being said we still like taking our time and finding the out of the way places so we'll see how this all goes.
Muchlove, take care, FTA

Poisho! Poisho nyoman.

Greetings from Kitale... again.
But wait! we had gone and now we have returned and inbetween we enjoyed many tings.

Premierement, Blarney's Guesthouse, half way to Makutano.
Barnley? Barnley?
The matutu driver (and a dozen other onlookers) puzzled. Out came the guide book (shame shame).
Yes, here: Barnely's Guesthouse, or, Sirikwa Safaris.
Ah! Sirikwa! Yes! Sirikwa!
The confusion erupted into relieved laughter. Silly mzungu, they seemed to say. Get in. Twende twende.

Sirikwa Safaris. A lovely garden getaway.
The lady in charge - 83 years old (and a little hard of hearing), but showing no sign of slowing.
She has lived around Saiwa Swamp all her life and built her house sometime in the 1930's. A house decorated with pewter beer steins and coats of arms. *Smile.*
On our tour of the facilities: Please do remember to shut the lid. It is a long drop and I have a rather silly puppy.
The puppy in question was one Jack Russel by the name of Ginny. Ginny was one of four dogs, and the dogs were counterpart to 4? 5? 6? cats - the biggest (and most persistent) of which was Huggins.
... And two horses who wandered about munching the lawn.
The lady's son, Richard, was also about. Tall, rakishly thin, and always a cigarette in hand. When he was [our] age he worked as a guide on Mount Kenya before becoming an avid birder (at a time when birding entailed shooting and shipping to museums in the U.K.).

From Sirikwa, we took a day trip to Saiwa Swamp.
Rose bright and early to reach the gates for 7 am.
The best bit? The boda-boda ride in. I climbed onto the motorbike behind Kylie and we raced along the red dirt road through lush farm land. Bumping along, the wind was cool and the morning sunlight illuminated yellow from over my left shoulder.
Our primary objective visiting the swamp was a sighting of the elusive sititanga (a semi-aquatic ungulate). Fait accompli! We spotted them from a wooden viewing platform that afforded us a lovely view of the grass sea.

Many thanks to Jane and Sven. They took pity on our state of car-fridge-lessness and fed us olives, macadamia nuts, avacado and tomato salad with fresh basil (Fresh basil!) and penne with mushroom and gorgonzola (Gorgonzola!) sauce and grated parmesan (Real parmesan!). And all this served with a brimming glass of red wine.

From Sirikwa we caught a lorry to Marich Pass in West Pokot.
Our first lorry. Quel ride! A little slow, a little bumpy, but, sitting in the cab, we were afforded the best view of the most beautiful stretch of highway. Green rolling hills patched in maize, tea, and (ghostly) evergreen forest.
Our driver treated us to a cob of boiled maize each.
The landscape changed from lush to dry. Acacias reappeared.

The campsite at Marich Pass was the best to date - peaceful, on the river, and shaded by so many tall trees.
The best bit? A cool breeze at dusk and dawn.
Vervets and goats. Goats. Mbuzi in Swahili. Kylie and I have become quite familiar with their colourful repertoire of sounds. Everything from a call that sounds like a crying child to a squelching fart noise that might be a sneeze.

With our base camp at Marich, Kylie, Laurel (grad student hailing from Maple Ridge), and I headed up and into the hills to the Mtelo View Camp. 5 hours uphill left us a little wiped (Ha! Humbling to see barefoot elderly folk tripping nimbly up and down the paths like mountain goats. Poisho! Poisho nyoman.), but the sight of our banda and its pink door was enough to compensate.
And the hammock.
And the shower! Whilst soaping, one could glance upwards and have one's eyes filled with the glory of the surrounding peaks.

One of those peaks, looking impossibly far away, was Mtelo, a holy mountain.
Kylie and I started our climb shortly after 6 the following morning. Down to the river and then up up up through maize fields, bamboo forest, and alpine slope. A lone bamboo plant to mark the top and a rewarding view all all around. A hurried lunch of maandazi, chapati, and banana before we scurried down.
Back in the village, an elderly man seated on a bench pointed back at the mountain and asked if we had really been there. Yes! To which he responded (and as our flip-flop-sporting guide, Hillary, translated) Will I climb there before I die? To said elderly man seated on a bench: we climbed it for you.

Back at Mtelo View, we settled our bill, rested our legs for a bit, and then continued on down the mountain back to the pass. We scrambled down a "short cut" but only arrived shortly before dark. Kylie has mirror-image blisters on both heals and toes and we can't remember our legs ever having been so sore.

Alright. Thems be the bones. J'ecrit lentement and Kylie and I are hankering for some icecream.
She'll swoop in with some meaty tales one of these coming days. Perhaps hailing from Uganda?

Mucho amore.
A la prochain!

A couple forgotten tidbits

So, as we were walking back to the center after our last foray into the blogosphere we realized that we had forgotten a couple things and that it's probably best that we add them on sooner rather than later (or they may be entirely forgotten).

First, I have developed a bit of a pet peeve (Sanch suffers from this too, though I don't believe it tortures her quite as much). People here have a tendency to greet us after we have already passed. So, say I am walking down the street, man approaching, man approaching, passing, passed, "Yes, hello mzungu"...Seriously? Half the time I can barely make out what they're saying.

While making mandazi yesterday (delicious fried dough) Pastor came and initiated a joking conversation, the jist of which was that the more eat Kenyan food, the blacker we become. Therefore, the more ugali, mandazi, chapati, sukuma wiki, githeri etc etc we consume, and the longer we consume it the darker we'll get (forget about whatever role the sun may play, it's clearly the food). I presume that this can be extrapolated beyond Kenya and so we won't run the risk of getting lighter once we cross over into Uganda.

About a week ago we played an amazing soccer game. It was afternoon on a school day and the sky was looking a little stormy but we took the bright orange soccer ball in hand and made our way, with a trail of girls and boys, to the field behind the compound. Not ten minutes into the game it started to rain, it came down lightly at first and increased in intensity so that it was like a steady Vancouver shower. A number of the younger girls deserted at this point. The rain continued to come down and after a little time it was torrential. I believe the only time I have seen rain close to this in Canada has been once up at the cabin, it was as if we were standing in a high pressure shower and had to wipe our faces every few seconds in order to see. Of course the game continued until eventually the field was flooded, the roads to the center were flooding and it was getting late. Ah! How we miss soccer.

There exists in town a bakery, it goes by the name "Ala Carte Confectionaries" and aims, I believe, to mimic the atmosphere of a French or perhaps simply European bakery. The first time we ventured in we were both delighted and horrified at the selection and the execution of a number of familiar treats. Resting up on a high shelf is the most frightening of doll cakes, the cake part makes up her dress and protruding from this mass of icing and cake is one of the most disturbing doll faces I've seen in a long time. Anyways, we had much fun looking through the selection the first time we walked in, but above all else our eyes rested on the "chocoballs". Now, Sanch and I are self proclaimed sweet, and particularly chocolate, addicts and this particular creating instilled a sense of fear in our hearts, mainly because were were well aware that we couldn't leave Kakamega without trying it. Today, perhaps a week from our initial encounter, we wandered back into the bakery and bravely (there was a quiver and lack of confidence in Sanch's voice...no joke) ordered a "chocoball". Now, a "chocoball" is about the size of my fist, we weren't sure what was on the inside, our guess was stale cake, covered in chocolate and then decorated with neon green icing. Oh dear. We took it, carefully wrapped, outside and settled down on a bench and proceeded to break it open. It was surprisingly tasty, I'm still not quite certain what's inside, some type of chocolate/vanilla/nut cake stuff, but certainly better than expected.

Alright, I leave you once again, muchlove and take care!