De Nile

Excuse my cheesy title, but sometimes I have these moments when I’m here where I have to pinch myself and remind myself where I am. I will literally say audibly to myself, “Oh my gosh, I am in Africa.” There are times when I feel like I’ve stepped out of a Save the Children documentary and then there are times when I feel like I’ve stepped into paradise, because Uganda is most often breathtakingly beautiful. Then land is so green, with lush forests and banana trees that grow wildly, rolling hills and views of Lake Victoria, or in the case of Jinja—also the famed Nile. Jinja is, in fact, the home to the “Source of the Nile” or so it claims. The Nile flows out of Lake Victoria and north towards Egypt at the junction that makes up Jinja, and thanks to that there is some spectacular water and therefore, spectacular water sports—namely, rafting and kayaking. I had a chance to experience these this past weekend in Jinja.

I drove to Jinja with Amy on Saturday late morning which is about an hour and a half from Kampala. It would be far less if not for some pretty horrendous roads, or “roads” as I prefer to refer to them usually. Amy drove us to Bujugali Falls when we arrived near town. It is a beautiful overlook of falls on the Nile, as well as the site of Nile River Rafting, one of four rafting companies in Jinja. Amy used to work for a rafting company there, so she knows many of the rafting guides, and she was there to visit them. After a Tusker beer overlooking the Nile, we grabbed lunch in town on the main street. Jinja is much smaller than Kampala. Perhaps a Charlottesville to Washington, DC—though not really at all of course! Jinja lacks many services but is quieter and has less traffic and more fresh air, so it’s a great, quick getaway. Then we headed to Nile River Resort to use the pool—and the swim-up bar. It was a beautiful day and we met up with some of her friends to lounge on the cushioned chairs, swim in the pool on a terrace overlooking the Nile with thatched roof huts and palm trees. Not bad!

After a few hours there, we took a walk to the Source of the Nile and had a drink there, sitting right on the bank as the sun went down. We showered and got ready (not too ready—apparently water supply is just as precarious in Jinja as Kampala if not more so) at Amy’s friend’s house where we were crashing, and headed back to the NRE campsite and bar to watch the big World Cup Rugby Final—England vs. South Africa that was being projected on a big screen—and feast on barbeque. South Africa pulled out the win, leaving the Brits (I was for them) in a sad state, but you would know from the atmosphere. It was just an awesome, lively spot.

The next morning we relaxed and Amy and I tried to convince ourselves that whitewater kayaking was a reasonable decision, because that is what we had made a plan to do the previous day. So a group of 8 of us went to pick up a few kayaks, tandem kayaks (for Amy and I and our respective guides) and a raft. We rented a truck and loaded all the supplies in with the raft on top and all climbed in for a bumpy ride to the take off point on the River. We arrived and I clambered into the front seat of my tandem kayak with one of the guys (my guide) in the back seat. I was strapped in with a lifejacket, helmet, and rubber wetsuit-like waist jacket that snapped over hole I was sitting in in the hopes of keeping water out. Yeah, that didn’t really happen. The first rapid and I “swam,” basically a term for messing up. The rapids look quite scary from outside, but when you’re in them—wow, I am just in awe of the power of masses of water. It was simply terrifying. We rolled under, and after a few seconds of water pounding my head, I pulled the safety strap and freed myself from my kayak cage (as did my guide) only to rise above the water and be pummeled by rapids. After swallowing lots of water, I finally emerged from the rapid and was picked up by the others in the big red raft. We caught our breath and got back in the kayak to try again. After some paddling, and meeting up with some other kayakers out on the river (one who is apparently the #4 kayaker in the world!), we headed for the next rapid. And yep, I swam again. This time I thought I might die. Just for a split second, but boy, is that enough. We were about a third of the way through the rapid and rolled, and I just panic and pulled my safety strap just a second before my guide was about to roll us back upright. Too late. Those waves were massive. I sputtered and tried to catch my breath and was pummeled by another one crashing mercilessly down on me. I finally emerged at the other end sputtering, and was hoisted into the raft once more.

After that one, I decided to take a go at rafting for a bit. I was with my guide and two Americans (one from Washington State and one from Lousiana) who work for a travel rafting company and have rafted trips all over, including Chile, and have two coming up in India and New Zealand (hmmm, maybe I should become a rafting guide…don’t worry, Mom, I’m clearly not really cut out for that!). We chatted, drank some beers, and hit the next two rapids, which were excellent, and I did not swim—hooray!! Amy meanwhile was doing much better than myself and she and her guide had not swam once. But her nerves had had enough all the same, so she swapped with me and I took one more go at whitewater kayaking. And on this last rapid of the day, The Nile Special, we made it! I only remember a few moments of terror, and actually it really is such a rush of adrenaline that in retrospect the whole day was a lot of fun. But let’s just say I’m glad I lived to tell about it. We climbed out of the kayak onto the rocky bank to watch the single kayakers “surf” the Nile Special. And were they impressive! Each would tow themselves out into the middle of the rapid waves with a towrope and then spend up to a minute or two riding the waves and maneuvering turns and riding the crest before dropping back. I wish I were brave enough to want to do that, but I just don’t think I really am! It does look like an amazing thrill though.

At the end of our journey, we landed at a small island called the Hairy Lemon. This lodge is a legend in Jinja and it really is such a beautiful serene spot—a tiny green gem with banda, a bar area, and flowered landscaping. We had a drink and then headed back to meet our truck that carried us and all the equipment back to Jinja in the moonlight. I was exhausted and bruised but very content, and happy to head back for some pizza, Jinja style (the restaurant had shut down their ovens as it was late and cooked them over a charcoal flame—not bad considering!) and sleep so that we could drive back at the crack of dawn this morning for work. And now I have a case of the Mundays—I want the weekend back!