Hi all. Well today’s blog is here and I didn’t want to gloss over travelling to Kampala from Kabale by bus, but at the same time I wasn’t sure that I would have enough for a decent blog post. So, I decided to add a bit of reflection to the story, which actually in itself is quite interesting.
After seeing the gorillas I was ready to head to the Ugandan capital, some 412 km from Kabale. Kabale was the nearest town to Lake Bunyonyi, by which I was staying, so a lift to the town in the morning and I was there by about 830am to take a bus.
I was told the best bus was probably the one that goes from Kigali all the way to Kampala, but that was tricky to get on and basically the plan was to grab the next bus from Kabale whatever it may be. It turned out to be a Jaguar bus. As is common in Africa it was waiting by the side of the road, slowly filling up for the long journey to Kampala.
The time I had quoted was 7 – 8 hours. I know that they will always underquote in these situations, but I hoped to be there between 6pm and 7pm in the evening. This seemed fairly reasonable. This (spoiler alert) would not be the case!
The journey started slowly at around 9am. We moved off, the bus wasn’t full but – it’s uncommon for any bus to leave when it isn’t full, but that’s okay because the first hour of the journey we stopped time and time again to pick up people on the side of the road. Immediately I knew it was going to be hard to predict when we would arrive in Kampala.
And this made me think of other trips I’ve taken in Africa, other bus trips. They are always unpredictable, but they are also always an adventure. And this bus was comfortable enough, relatively speaking. Actually any bus journey of some distance I have taken usually has me feeling sore by the end of it.
My first ever bus journey in Africa was in Ghana in 2006, a shorter journey of 3 – 4 hours from Ghana to Cape Coast. Buses generally in Africa seat at least five across, in a three – two configuration. And even though I was much thinner back then I remember it being awkward and uncomfortable. That also had heat and humidity into the mix, Ghana in January experiences some pretty uncomfortable weather. I would take a minibus on the return and that was much better.
Back in Uganda, it wasn’t hot and I had a window seat. Sometimes through the day I had two seats to myself, sometimes I had someone sitting next to me. The chance to spread out a bit was nice, but it took a long time to feel like we were actually moving in the right direction instead of just stopping and starting. The bus was chicken free, so that was nice. A couple of journeys I remember in Ethiopia with loads of chickens on the buses. They were fun – only a few hours. Then there was the longer all day bus from Bahir Dar to Addis Ababa – bus was okay, but it left at something like 430am in the morning. I remember there was a film on the TV screen that went for hours and I managed to track it down before I left the country and bought it on disc.
The middle part of the journey from Kabale to Kampala was the best part in terms of moving. The hills are so green in Uganda it’s really quite beautiful, and we hummed along towards our destination. But then as we seemed to be making good time, we were closer to Lake Victoria, there were road works aplenty, and at times the bus was stopped in traffic for a long time.
There was talk on the bus that it was being held up because of the upcoming elections – a rally or something, possibly even for the President. But that didn’t turn out to be the case. It went from light outside to dusk and then the sun went down.
And then, well, we hit Kampala. And this was slow going too! It’s the capital, a large, sprawling city. It was now after 6pm, after 7pm, in fact it was after 8pm! We pulled into the bus station somewhere in central Kampala around 830pm.
Still, I have arrived much later before to a city in Africa after travelling all day by bus or share taxi. The longest I can remember is making it from Parakou in Benini to the capital of Niger, Niamey in a single day. Although technically it finished at 1am the next day. Within a 24 hour period shall we say? Long share taxi ride all the way to the border. I was up before 6am but the taxi had to fill up which took hours. Then at the border a long wait for the mini-bus that was packed to the gills to the capital Niger. I waited five or six hours for the bus to fill, it left just as dusk was setting in, stopping five to ten minutes into the journey for the evening prayer.
830pm is a much better time to arrive anywhere than 1am. I took a moto to the Red Chilli Hideaway, the hostel I was staying. Hungry and tired, the moto guy didn’t really know where to go (although he said he did) and so I ended up, after we got lost, having to use my map on my phone to get him there. It was nearly 10 o’clock when we got there, I was so relieved that the kitchen was still open (only by 5 – 10 minutes) and I had a late dinner before heading to bed.
Another African bus adventure survived, another destination reached, another travel day done and dusted. I remembered other journeys I had made on this amazing continent, and I’d made another one. Thanks for popping by and giving it a read today!
