My Arrival in Africa

Kampala Travel Blog

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The driveway of my sister's house atop Naguru Hill. The guard, who's name I can't remember, holds the gate open for us...While Tagua, the dalemation, ignores the photo op.
   It was around 10pm in nearly pitch black darkness when my plane touched down on what seemed a very dimmly lit runway in  Entebbe, Uganda.  As I walked off the plane onto the tarmac I was greeted by a starry night sky, a slightly chilly, but refreashing breeze, and an unfamiliar country.   I then approached the terminal, which more so resembled a small military hangar, took a deep breath and nervously searched my pockets for my passport as guards with rifles walking german shephards strolled through the queue of people waiting to get their passports stamped for entry into Uganda. 
   When my sister finally saw me after I had picked up my luggage, she looked wide eyed and relieved.  It had taken me an unusually long time to make it to the gates leading to the frenzy of taxi drivers, families, and friends awaiting the recently arrived passengers.
This picture was taken on my sister's roof patio. I believe, near the top of the large hill seen hear is a Hilton Hotel which I found a little surprising.
  This was basically because of my not knowing what the hell or where the hell or which the hell line I was supposed to wait in to get my passport stamped for approval before heading towards the luggage pick up.  But after a brief anxiety attack I'd figured everything out, found my sister, and began the about 45 minute drive from the Entebbe airport to Kampala
   With it being late in the night on the ride towards Kampala, I could not make out much of the landscape other than the dusty paved road ahead of me.  I could, however, make out the many shanty one-story structures, lit only by a lamp or two and the occasional tv set, that lined the streets most of the way from the airport to Kampala.
This picture was taken from the driveway of my sister's house.
  Some of these open-aired sturctures had small fires burning for cooking.  Others had small bars with a pool table set up just in front of the it, in the dirt, and with a  tarpaulin above it being the only protection from the weather.
   After dodging potholes that could swallow most small cars we arrived at my sisters "neighborhood" known as Naguru Hill.  And that is what it was for the most part...A large hill with a dirt road that quickly split in two, one heading left the other right. We took the one that went right and that lead us higher up the hill and finally to my sisters house where a guard pulled open the large steal gate and waved us in.  Knowing there would be no way I would fall asleep any time soon, my sister and I opened up a couple bottles of cheap African red wine.  Before the night was over we were both drunk - arguing and bickering about life only as siblings can. 
   It would not be until the next morning when I awoke, with only a slight hangover to my surprise, and walked outside into the warm sunlight and onto my sisters roof patio that I would see just where I had arrived the night prior.
Africancrab says:
Hahahaaaaaaaaaa, I can relate to everything because I have family there! Great blog and description
Posted on: Apr 26, 2008
afayegarrison says:
You are a great writer..You have the knack for it for sure..Real emotion!! I mean it!
Posted on: Mar 03, 2008
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The driveway of my sisters house …
The driveway of my sister's house…
This picture was taken on my siste…
This picture was taken on my sist…
This picture was taken from the dr…
This picture was taken from the d…
This is where I bought my bed.
This is where I bought my bed.
Your basic road leading away from …
Your basic road leading away from…
Heading into downtown Kampala.
Heading into downtown Kampala.
A view of Kampala
A view of Kampala
Kampala in the backdrop.
Kampala in the backdrop.
Heading towards downtown.
Heading towards downtown.
Bananas and Bull
Bananas and Bull
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photo by: loanna