Uganda met us with gorgeous tarred roads (!!!!), fertile soil and sign of development everywhere. People live in brick pondoks instead of clay. We could see the difference in poverty levels, travelling from Malawi, through Tanzania and now in Uganda. This looked like a completely different country to the ones we've seen portrayed on the South African news. In fact Uganda was probably one of the most developing countries in Africa with MTN, DSTV and a population that didn't seem to be suffering from hardships of poverty and strife. In fact the people in Tanzaia sent their kids to the private schools in Uganda becasue they were held in such high regard.
Our plan was to get to see the gorillas before the 17th August as Johnny was flying out of Kampala on this date. Brett and Andy were to catch up with us later as we decided to go on ahead and see if we could get permits. We had been told to expect to wait for about 1 week for them.
Driving in Uganda, as elsewhere, is quite stressful. The local drivers hoot at you to let you know that they are coming, where they are going, to get you out the way, yell at you, warn you or even just warn you about not even thinking about something that you haven't thought of yet! Its a crazy mambo of light, hooters and indicators, not to mention the pedestrians and bicycles. But you soon get the hang of it. There are banana trees everywhere. All along the roads there are people carrying huge bunches of green bananas on their heads or on their bicycles.
We finally got to Lake Bunyonyi, the 3rd deepest lake in the world! The whole countryside reminded us of a patchwork quilt, as the people aren't scared to work the land.
Getting to see the gorillas has proven to be a tedious and difficult task. We have spent over R 100 on phone calls and will still have to wait a good 2 weeks before seeing them OR go to Rwanda, from where we'll have to pay another USD30 to get back into Uganda; blah-blah-headache!
An extract from Lou's diary:
"Today, while I was showering one of the workers at the camp played Peeping Tom. Then on the way down to Kisoro some fag shouted I LOVE YOU to me, then at the border I had my own fan club gathered around the car and Johnny had to give them the lazy eye to stop them looking at me and to top it, I was looked up and down by the owner of the campsite in Kisoro. I have decided that Ugandan men are pervs and see white women purely as sex objects, to which I object strongly. Furthermore, we have misplaced USD 140, my rash is back and I feel generally irritated.
Just as I burst out crying, confide in Darren and open my ONLY packet of olives to console myself, a man walks up to us. He lives in the Congo, but is a refugee at the moment. He says that the fighting in the Congo has ended, but that the volcano near his house has erupted and that his house is under lava. He now sells curios in Uganda to feed his family
And as I was only getting started in the process of feeling sorry for myself, I was rudely and abruptly interrupted and reminded that No matter how bad I think things are, there is always someone who has it worse. Why wont everyone just let me wallow in self-pity, in peace?!?
And so we see that it isn always fun and games in Africa. Sometimes our adventures do get to us. But I'll let you know that it still beats a day at the office at any rate!!!
RWANDA:
And so we finally got a permit to go and see the endangered mountain gorillas. We had to go to Rwanda where there were 32 places available per day, in contrast with Uganda's 6.
We had to go to the border the day before to have our passports stamped and the car cleared, as customs would not be open when we wanted to go through at 6am. Turns out that we would have to pay the U$30 each to get back into Uganda after seeing the gorillas, regardless of the fact that we would only spend 10 hours in Rwanda.... This irritated me, as we had only been in Uganda for 4 days at the time and our visas were valid for 2 months. But it was a Single entry visa... and the border officials knew how to make their money.
I had spent the whole night dreaming of running around backwards and forwards between border posts, arranging for visas, smiling at officials, trying to bribe and generally just kissing arse.
When we finally awoke at 5am (4am RSA time), I was still exhausted!
We quickly packed up and drove the slow 12km to the border on sandy roads. There was nobody at the border when we got there. After a while, a guard came out and let us through. We were stuck between borders for a good hour, as the Rwandan customs official was late. So we proceeded to make some coffee and marveled at the blue, mist covered volcano rising up in the distance. Somewhere on that volcano, we knew, were the mountain gorillas we would pay U$250 each to see for one hour.
Rwanda didn't seem the war torn country that the press made it out to be. There were signs of development and buildings along the road as we drove. Speaking of driving, did I mention that we hadn't realised that Rwanda used to be a French colony? So there we were merrily driving along on the left side of the road. That was until a soldier came riding up on a bicycle to tell us that we were driving on the wrong side of the road!!
It was refreshing to be out of Uganda, which had been spoilt by tourists giving handouts. Rwanda hasn't seen many tourists for a while and the children were genuinely excited to see muzungu's. "Muzungu!!", they screamed at us as we passed and waved enthusiastically. In fact, they were so excited to see muzungu's and we heard that word so many times that day that we were genuinely tired of hearing it by the end of the day! "Yes", we said,"quite perceptive of you to notice that we are white," we joked as the day wore on.
To get back to the gorillas. We were hiking with two American ambassadors, Kanu and Josie. They seemed OK at first, serious 'ku'-girls, but OK. Then we started the hike...
After no more than literally 5 minutes, Josie was out of breath and in need of a break! And that was only the start of things to come!! By the time we reached the ENTRANCE to the forest, she was already holding the guide's hand and he was pulling her up the hill, stopping every 2 minutes, literally 200 meters into the forest, she was stopping
for a break every 20 steps, It was a looooooooooong morning!
The forest was absolutely gorgeous. It was humid and very green. There was an ever-present smell of moistness and mint. Moss grew on pieces of bark, monkey vines were
hanging from large, thick trees and stinging nettles lined the ground. The ground was soaked and the mud, slippery. The sun shone through the thick forest cover, keeping us
warm. I really enjoyed the walk and our surroundings were exquisite.
After about an hour of stop-start walking, we were getting closer to the gorillas and could see very definite gorilla presence. Patches of undergrowth had been flattened as the gorillas had lazed about, there were gorilla droppings everywhere and our excitement was mounting! We met up with the gorilla tracker, who monitored their movements.
We were trekking the Amahoru group, with Uhumbwe as the silver back. He is a very new leader as the old leader only died in May. But this was not the only traumatic event that the group had to cope with. Poachers had killed two females and stolen 2 babies in May as well. (It was reported in the South African Sunday Times in June). Luckily they only got away with one baby, but the emotional trauma is enough.
We finally got to the place where the gorillas had stopped to eat, rest and play. At first we were quite careful, not knowing what to expect. Then we saw them: A family of moms, black backs, babies and then... one silverback. To be honest, I wasn't awestruck or extremely amazed, as I heard the people who had gone before us to be. But it was nice.
At one point the baby gorilla climbed up into a nearby tree, attempted to bang its chest like a big gorilla and came tumbling out of the tree with a big show. It was too cute!!
We stayed with the gorillas for the full hour permitted and then attempted the journey home.
On our drive back, we marveled at the ";Vehicles" on the road. Bicycles with bananas, people on the back of bicycles, pedestrians. All along the side of the road, children sat with heaps of stones that they bashed from rocks to make gravel. (Child labour in the worst form!)
We finally got back to the border and did another sneaky to get our visas at U$15 (student rate!!). As we approached the campsite, we saw Mr. J, with Andy and Brett. After a happy reunion with the guys and hearing all their stories from Kigoma, we had to chat about our next move. We pretty much all wanted to go and see Johnny off at the airport in Kampala, but Andy had not yet seen the gorillas. So we needed to decide on a rendezvous point to meet. Brett wanted to rather spend a few days at Lake Bunyoni and thus decided to not come to Kampala with us to see Johnny off. Andy was in a difficult spot. Finally we agreed on a plan B and left the following morning to go back to Lake Bunyoni.
We had met some Israeli people in Kisoro, but had not spent much time with them. When we got to Bunyoni, guess who we saw:Alon and Eli. They had finished their 2 years of
army and where travelling for 3 months or so. We became great friends and spent the evening playing a card game called Shithead.
I woke up with a terrible 'migraine' during the night. I thought it strange, as I am not a sufferer. It was not better in the morning and I was beginning to feel nauseous too. After an hour, the headache did not ease as I was getting worried about having malaria. Off we went to the Kabale Hospital for a test. When we got there, at 8h30 on a Sunday morning, there was no doctor in sight, anywhere. There was no casualty unit, no emergency hall... We met a man whose wife was 8 months pregnant. She had fallen and was bleeding heavily. The nurse just looked at him and said:"Sorry, the doctor only comes in at 10h00." That's when I decided to bugger that as a bad joke. I was very ill and had been crying the whole way, which didn't help the headache!
We decided to try and find a pharmacy. On the way, I spotted a maternity clinic and tried my luck. The nurse was extremely helpful and did a test for malaria immediately; It came out negative. She said that she was convinced, from my symptoms, that I had malaria, but that the prophylactics that I was taking, was masking the parasite in my blood. She started me on a course of Coartem immediately. The rest of the day was a blurr...
The next day Andy joined us at Bunyoni for the trip to Kampala, with Alon and Eli's backpacks on our roof. They took the local transport.
En Route to Kampala, we crossed the equator. We stopped at the "memorial" statue thing at 0 degrees latitude to take pictures, while Daz jumped from the southern hemisphere to the northern hemisphere a few times! He now boasts that he's crossed the equator more times than most people would do in a lifetime.
We arrived in Kampala at night and as it would be, in peak hour traffic!! We were horribly lost and there were just people everywhere. There were dala-dala's, matato's and
pedestrians, each wanting to go first, pushing and shoving. I don't even think that Johannesburg has ever seen so many people in the same place at one time!!; There didn't seem to be any rules, were absolutely no robots and the circles that there were, was one huge traffic jam! The roads were strewn with potholes that any normal car would scrape on going through. In short: It was chaos! To top it, we had an extremely excited Andy shouting: "Hallo! How are yooooouuuuuu!", to everyone, as we tried to navigate our
way to the backpackers.
Finally we got there, with Alon and Eli waiting for us with a drink!
Internet was free at the backpackers, so we were quite eager to get some news from home. Then we started the intergalactic championships of Shithead, which lasted
until way after midnight. Poor Johnny kept on losing, even when we played in Bunyoni, so he became the famous Shithead! We would even doctor his cards, just to make him
lose, so that we could see his reaction! It became so funny that Eli even taught us how to name him in Hebrew: Rosh Garra!!!
Kampala was great. The traffic eventually amused us and we loved having a 4x4 to maneuver through the potholes. We even managed to draw down on our visa card from the Standard Charted Bank! This helped as we were starting to run out of dollars.
Soon it was time to say cheers to Johnny. We found a Shoprite in Kampala (!!) and bought some Unbelievable Chicken, real chicken and salads. Johnny had a nack for
losing things, so while he was packing all his stuff into his bags, Andy got hold of his air ticket and hid it. Johnny was really concerned and thought that he had once again lost it!! We had a wicked dinner and played Rosh Garra until 3:30am when we had to take Johnny to the airport. Johnny was really excited to get home to his wife, Kathleen, but we were really sad to let him go. He had been nicknamed 'Grandpa' and we loved him dearly. He had also been such an intricate part of our lives for a month and we would miss him. So
we left Grandpa at the airport and returned to the backpackers for some sleep before sunrise.
The sun shone into our tent without mercy. We had managed to sleep for three hours, until eight, before it became unbearably hot. We had washing to do and really needed to get our camera fixed, so we thought it best to rise and shine. This was probably the first time that I was thankful for a cold shower!! I'll tell you, Uganda is hot!! So we spent most of the day in town, with Alon, Eli and Andy.
Our Israeli friends had discovered a really cheap place to get some really good grub The market!! We joined them for a Chapatti. This is a pancake looking thing and was filled with two fried eggs, tomatoes and salt. Boy, oh, boy, did we enjoy it, especially considering that it only cost R2.50 each and I could only finish one!!
Although we were really tired, considering the small amount of sleep that we had the previous night, we went to bed really late. Our Israeli friends were really interesting and we enjoyed swapping ideas. This is when it all started... Our plan to actually go to Ethiopia. Alon and Eli were going and we figured that we'd make cool travelling partners. Also, I had always desperately wanted to go to Ethiopia, but didn't know whether we would have time... We were seriously talking about it, and I was getting seriously excited!
Breakfast turned out to be quite a fun event!! We were all sitting around drinking some spicy Israeli tea that Eli had made, when an old school friend of Daz's sister walked up to us. Of all the places in the world to meet another South African who actually attended the same school!! We whipped out the pineapple, Ritchie provided the sugar reed and paw-paw and Eli kept on making tea. What fun. We only got going after eleven o'clock!
We eventually got back into town, but had no idea what a day would be awaiting us! We once again, had Eli, Alon and Andy in the car, as we searched for a safe place to park our only possession. We figured it would be safe at the casino, but the parking was full. "Not to worry", said Guinness, the security guard, "Park on the pavement. I know how to take care of all the enemies of this car!!". We laughed and laughed at the crazy Ugandan!
Our outing to the market was absolutely chaotic. Let me say that my stomach muscles are still stiff from laughing.
The market was huge, bigger than we'd seen before, with spices, rices, vegetables and goods in a colourful display along thousands of tables. People were everywhere, Quoting prices, haggling for prices, buying, selling and carting goods to and fro. Andy and Eli had generally been misbehaving the whole day (in a good way!), by bullying the locals good-naturedly and confusing the greater population of Kampala with their crazy remarks. In the market, they soon realized that many eyes were on them and that they had a captive audience! They needed no encouragement and were up to their tricks in no time "Hallo, Muzungu, how are yyyooouuu", they called to the vendors as they passed. Needless to say, the vendors were totally flabbergasted by these crazy white men calling them "white men".; "Me, Muzungu?", Eli replied as one of the vendors tried to correct him, thinking that he had his Swahili vocab mixed up, "No, no, me Mudugavo!(black man)" . "You Muzungu!", he pointed back at the vendor. The poor locals had no idea whether they were joking, whether they were crazy or whether they were just confusing the two words!
Needless to say, we caused quite a stir as we made our way through the market. Women tried to sell us their babies (!?!).. I haven't quite figured out whether they were joking or not... Eli even got offered some sweet pleasures from a really big and fat Mama, who whipped off her shirt to let him have a look at her goods!!
I was absolutely exhausted from laughing, by the time we had visited only half of the market, but Eli and Andy were not yet ready to go home. After selling some bread for one vendor (might I add at five times the normal price through a bidding process!!), they decided to harass a local boda-boda (bicycle taxi) owner in the garage where we had moved our car. They stole his bicycle from him and proceeded to give each other lifts all along the garage. The poor guy was not too pleased when they finally gave his bike back and got into the car!
Of course by then, we had hit peak hour traffic in Kampala. As I mentioned before, traffic in Kampala is deborturous at the best of times. So there we were burning the clutch, inching our way up the hill, with bicycles overtaking us on the inside! A guy came past, pushing a really heavy load of planks on the back of his bike and really struggling up the hill. Andy needed no egging on and was out of the car in no time, helping the local pushing his bike up the hill. The poor guy was so flabbergasted seeing a muzungu helping him that he didn't know whether to smile or be angry!!
So, after a hard day of harassing the locals, we were all quite tired. Eli made us a wicked Israeli risotto for dinner and we all got seriously stuck into it!! Andy, the main hooligan of the day, was so tired that he decided to go to bed way before the rest of us...MISTAKE!
We had warned him that the weather forecast had predicted a really bad tent-collapsing storm for that evening, especially if he went to bed early, but he thought the storm might pass... WRONG!! We waited until he was sound asleep. Then we silently crept to his tent and stole all the tent pegs. He remained asleep, so we decided to collapse his tent on him. He slept through that too... That was boring, so we went back and removed his flysheet, so that he 'could breath'. He still stayed motionless. Only later did he tell us that he hoped that if he stayed motionless we would let him be... FAT CHANCE! We decided to wake him up by pulling his ears and fingers and tickling his ribs. This got a real big reaction, but a grumbly one, so we got bored and we went back and continued our discussion of Ethiopia.
We set off for Banda Island the next day.; This is a small island, somewhere in Lake Victoria. To get there we had to take the local fishing boats, (and yes, it had fish onboard..)... And the trip was four hours long!!
We finally got there and were greeted by 4 dogs and a hippy-gone-wrong-guy, called Dominique Crawford (go figure!). He had bought the island 12 yrs earlier and had retired there. As we stepped off the boat, our feet were instantly covered by masses of small ants. This was the start of two days filled with ants. The bandas were OK, but the insects were running wild.
Visiting the island was not exactly a highlight, but was a fun experience;We kept ourselves busy with eating and drinking, going on a paddleboat and chatting to Andy, Alon and Eli. Did I mention that it was full board and logding, including all the dope?!?! What a different set-up.
The boat ride backs was pretty much the same as the one going there. But about 50 metres from the shore, there were suddenly hands all over the boat and people pushing the boat from the water. There was shouting and pulling on the boat. People were extended their arms and just grabbing our bags off the boat. People even started pulling at our arms to carry us off the baot. Porters caused the chaos from land. They were trying to make a quick buck off the tourists for carrying them, and their bags, from the boat. It really was a frightening chaos of people shouting. I was totally flustered and decided to just grab hold of my bag and sit tight in the boat until Daz got to me. I actually had to get harshly verbal to keep the porters from airlifting me off the boat. Eventually Daz got to me, having had to make his way, from the back of the boat, passed all the other screaming guests, to where I was sitting. He realised that it was a hopeless situation and the result was both of us being carried to the dry land.
Luckily the car was still in top condition when we got back to land.
Our traditional stop at the Fidodido ice-cream shop turned out to be a laugh once again. As Daz stopped the car and ran across the road to collect our luxuries, we spotted a really spaced-out looking local making his way towards the car. We had already learned that this meant only one thing: Yip, he was going to beg for a pen, or money, or the clothes off our backs. So we got in before he could and started yelling: "Give me money, give me pen... I like your shirt, give me shirt" Eventually we stopped for a second, as the poor man had not even made an attempt at speaking, just looking at us with a confused look on his face."How are you?" he started. "We are fine, how are yyyooouuu?!", we recited the familiar line. "Not so good" Taking this as our queue, we started up again, " Oh, you'll get over it. Give me pen, give me money" The poor oke was so flabbergasted that he just stood there until Daz came back. Seeing a new muzungu, he hoped Daz would pity him, but no such luck. We all started screaming at the top of our voices "Give me ice-cream, Give me ice-cream". We had soon distributed the ice creams and left, leaving the beggar speechless.
We decided to try the Red Chilly campsite for a change. What a good idea, as it was ten times better than the Backpackers we had stayed at before. As we drove in, we saw Mr. J and Brett and there was a happy reunion. We once again battled with the decision to go to Ethiopia from Dar or to go south. We decided that we didn't have enough time.
We went to the market for dinner again. A minister, called Pirez, decided to take us under his wing and showed us around. He took Andy by the hand as he led us to the food stalls. Andy, being a typical British male (not that a South African male would stand for it!), felt quite uncomfortable holding hands with another male. Daz and I just giggled as we walked behind, watching Andy swinging his arms like two two-year-olds in a park! Bless him!
We made our way to Jinja the next day. The camp we stayed at, The Nile River Explorers was situated overlooking the Nile River. From our tent, I could see two of the rapids that we would soon tackle. We had spaghetti bolognaise with real mince that night. It made for a pleasant change from soya!
We spent the next two days speaking to various travellers about shipping our car from Djibouti back to Durban. We were still very keen to get to Ethiopia. It had been a dream of mine since before the trip, but we wouldnt have enough time to drive up and back down again before the end of October. The only option would be to ship the car back; And that would set us back at least R 15 000. We finally tortured ourselves to a decision: It would be too expensive.
Andy had once said, around a campfire, that it was truly a gift to realize that one is happy at the time and not to only realize it once the moment had gone. I was truly happy in Jinja. I had been having the best time since having Andy, and later Johnny, around. I felt carefree and alive. I smelt more smells and saw more beautiful things and I realised I was happy, right at that moment.
The thing that irritated me most about Ugandans was their culture to stare. It had to be embedded within their culture, as everyone does it! Never, throughout our travels in Southern and East Africa, have we encountered people who would so obviously and rudely stop dead in their tracks to stare, complete with open mouth and dopey expression.
Andy had been feeling sick for a while now, since Kampala, on and off. He is of course convinced that he has bilharzias, although he has no fever. He also reckons that the Larium is playing a large role in his health, but doesnt want to take the chance of stopping it.
I've been thinking about our trip so far: We've been planning for three and a half years and we've already completed two thirds of it. It has just flown passed. We've been incredibly lucky though, with regards to the general well being of the trip. We have had the most awesome weather possible. We've had tons of sunshine, missed the rainy seasons by a week or so in some places. We've even had mild weather right at the equator, which can get really humid at times. Yet, we've enjoyed the benefits of the rain, seeing the lush, green vegetation and wildlife. We've only had one or two days of true Malawian storms along the shores of Lake Malawi, just enough for us to realize the intense power and magnitude that these storms could have.
We went rafting on the River Nile in Uganda today. Andy didn't come as he's still feeling a bit sick and to top it, he got his hands bashed in during a soccer match with the locals yesterday. He had to go for a check up in town, as this feeling sick thing had been going on too long. He had to have blood, urine and faeces check. Can you imagine having to produce a gorilla on demand!!! Anyhow, turns out our friend was actually in quite a bad state: He has malaria, esterichia coli, urine infection and a cough!
I was shivering in anticipation by the time we had practiced all our river maneuvers. Luckily Andy came down to our rendezvous point, before going down the serious river, with some grub. This provided us with enough sugar to burn the adrenalin. Soon we were back on the raft and attempting our first Gr. 5 rapid for the day, over the Bujagali Falls. This is a set of small falls dropping about 2 meters down into a white wash caused by underlying rocks. Apparently a banker from Kampala had committed suicide by jumping into the falls two days before!!
We were OK going down, but we held on for dear life. After that, the worst of my shaken was gone and it was Too easy Sergeant Major! The next rapid, called 50/50 wasnt too kind to us. We were the 50% that flipped and we had our first sinus flush and bubble bath for the day. As we went floating down the river and all gathered around a rock to be briefed on the next rapid, we saw something odd in the water. It was a bit away from us, so we couldnt really make out what it was. Eventually, it dawned on one of the guides what it was: The banker from Kampala!!! Bullshit, we thought, but as he floated closer we could see, True as Bob, it was him! GROSEHUMUNGO!! Oh my word, how grose to go rafting with a dead body floating in the same river! Well, we gave the poor soul a name: Bob, and forgot about him as he disappeared down the river. We recapped on what to do going down the rapid and were soon on our way down. The rapid, Total Gunga, was the longest on the river, being 150 meters long and also classified as a Gr. 5, so it was a biggy! We rowed as hard as we could into the lead-up to the rapid. "Get down!" our guide Rhyno yelled, and we all secured our paddles as we crouched onto the floor of the raft. We held on for dear life as we got thrown around by the rapid and felt like real cowboys riding a rodeo bull. Finally we hit a massive hole. The whole boat upped and flipped, throwing us all out. We struggled for air as we held onto the raft, being bashed around by the mighty current. One of the girls had a panic attack and started hyperventilating. Rhyno had her on top of the upside down raft in no seconds, trying to calm her.
At that moment, Daz screamed "Get onto the boat guys." No response, as everyone was till trying to catch their breath. "Dead guy!! Get onto the raft!", he shouted again with no more conviction. Within a second everyone was on top of the upside down raft, except me, who couldnt get up along with all the others. As I looked around, the bloated Ugandan floated slowly towards me, about one or two meters away, following us down the river. My eyes met with his half open ones in his bloated skull, lined with red and white patches of mould and decay. This totally freaked me out. Yes, I've had some contact with cadavers in my training, but this was too unexpected and close for comfort. The rapid was still pushing the water in all directions and the chance of brushing up against Bob just totally freaked me out. "Get me out of the f!*%#ng water!!!";, I screamed at Kerry, who, just as shaken as me, tried her best to pull me up. It felt like forever before my feet were out of the water. By then Bob had narrowly missed me and was literally right next to the boat. This made the hyperventilating girl more hysterical and there was just general chaos. Anyway, we all managed to calm down as Bob, once again, went floating down the river and we made our way to shore
The rest of the day was generally uneventful, except for some more big flips. Luckily Bob didn't show his ugly, bloated face again. We'll never know if anyone came to remove him from the water, or not.
All this time Brett was river boarding the mighty Nile. He was having an absolute blast being put through the "washing machine" as he later described it.
That night was a big one. We watched our rafting video (where Bob managed to stay out of the camera's shot!) and then the party started!! All said and done, it was truly an adventurous day and we were all in need of some serious unwinding. The evening turned into morning and then we went to bed.
We ended up staying another night at Explorers, nursing our tired, stiff and hung over bodies. Andy was feeling better and decided to go down the river the next day. May I remind you that he still had malaria..?!?! He came back absolutely glowing. He was smiling from ear to ear and was totally on a buzz. Suddenly we were quite glad that we stayed another night.
We said our good-byes to the guys from the South African Nile River Explorers river rafting company (by the way it was really cool to spend the week with the mostly South African employees), and tackled the 150kms to the Kenyan border.
Average cost of petrol: R9 / litre
Average cost of camping: R30 pppn
GPS co-ords: