Source of the Nile

Sunset on the Nile. 

Every mzungu that come to Uganda has to see Jinja, the source of the Nile River. Yes, it’s cliché and yes, there are a million tourists around. But it really is amazing.

I snuck out of the office on a busy Thursday afternoon to meet my friend downtown to catch the bus. We spent a bumpy two hours passing small towns and snaking though Uganda’s countryside, dense with trees and spotted with people transporting bananas, eggs and other parcels on their heads and bicycles. We got hungry and bought grilled chicken and roasted gonjas (plantains) from vendors who stretch their arms through the bus' windows pushing their goods on you.

Our adventure really began when the bus reached a gas station somewhere outside of Jinja town. We had no idea where we were so we hopped on a boda who ensured us he knew where our resort was. In fact, he did not know where we were going. So he dropped us at the closest town and of course he still pocketed our 20,000 shs ($12) after driving for 30 minutes in the wrong direction. We ditched him and boarded a second boda who told us he could take us to our hotel in an hour or an hour and a half.

After a shaky 30 minutes on the road, our bike broke down. We stopped in Namagera to repair it and we were immediately surrounded by young kids screaming “mzungu!” As we said our hellos we noticed a crowd of about 80 people gathered across the street and went over to check it out.

In the centre of the group was a clown (a man in a choppy black wig) who was spinning a bicycle wheel on his head and in his behind as the crowd cheered him on. It was quite the spectacle. Aside form the kids gathered around us, most people in the small town were there to see him perform. I asked the kids who couldn’t peel their off the mzungus why they weren’t watching the show. “We are the show,” my friend remarked.

With a new spark plug, our bike and boda driver were as good as new and we headed off. It was the perfect hour to ride through the countryside. The sun was setting and there were no cars around. Scores of uniformed kids heading home lined the road. Our thin red dirt path was bordered by maize plants, avocado and banana trees, and upside down-looking trees. Every so often we’d spot a hut buried in the bushes and little kids would run to the road to see the attraction motor by.

We reached the end of the ride, where we boarded the first of two boats to our resort. I was covered in red sand from head to toe. The dirt was caked onto my face, beneath my toenails and fingernails and in every crevice of my clothing. I quickly forgot about this once we got onto the water. There were no rapids near so the water was completely still. In the setting sun it looked like molten metal. I reminded myself I was at the source of the Nile and got shivers. I couldn’t help but imagine what I’d be doing if I stayed in Toronto this summer.

Boat ride to the resort

The next day it poured rain (I’ve never seen rain pound so hard). It was the perfect excuse to lounge in the hammock and read all day. We took it easy because the next day was going to be exhausting. We were waking at 7 to go rafting on the Nile.

I woke up feeling okay, but an hour into our drive we had to pull over. I was green in the face on the side of the road (and those of you who know me can attest to the fact that I am very rarely sick to my stomach). Not a good way to start an eight-hour long day of rafting. It didn’t look like I was going to make it, but with a bit of time and about four slices of white bread I was on top of my game. By 11 am I was on the water.

There is no way to describe the experience. First, you hear the rapids as you approach. Then suddenly, you see a wall of fast-moving water rushing at you at an alarming pace. Then, suddenly you’re in the water stuck under the boat. Then, suddenly you’re above water and you realized you’ve swallowed about a gallon of river water (hello, bilharzia).

No major injuries except for a killer sunburn, aching arms and a split lip from smacking into a guy’s helmet when we rushed down a four meter waterfall.  

So yes, it’s terribly cliché. But it’s also impossibly beautiful and fun. Overlooking the rapids from a cliff as the sun set at the end of the day easily made up for the busted lip, the burnt legs and pulled muscles.