Windows Down, Music Up!

by Matthew Lawrence (Canada)

A leap into the unknown Uganda

Windows Down, Music Up! Road snacks, an old Toyota RAV4 rental, and questionable camping gear. It’s 10:00 a.m. in Uganda, and our 36-day quest across East Africa begins in Entebbe with a 550km journey to Rushaga Gorilla Camp in the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest. I apply a third layer of sunscreen to my window arm as the sun begins to roast me like a chicken in an offroad oven. The first hours are a rush of excitement! Traffic is loud, but the honks, shouts and communicative waves of hundreds of people only seek to guide the multiple streams of traffic into one mighty river without collision. Smiling and feeling like a kayaker who just finished a dangerous set of rapids, we exit to the highway. Windows down, music up! The silverbacked gorilla’s we seek in Bwindi are rare, making permits expensive. Our budget only allows for one prepaid attempt at trekking in to see the large primates, so making it to the camp before nightfall weighs heavily on our minds. Aggressive speed bumps’ guard pedestrian roadside markets and threaten to damage our vehicle’s suspension as we enter and exit each small town, hindering our progress considerably. Hours pass and as we approach each bump my body stiffens. The abundance of colorful fruit and vegetable stands that line the road are alluring. Eventually, we agree to stop and load up on fresh produce. Uganda is a dreamland for any lover of avocado, mango, or banana. Food appears abundant here but the way of life makes me feel weak, like a delicate greenhouse flower. People of all ages walk the roads using old bicycles to push balanced loads of bananas, durian, water, and other goods long distances. Trees are being burned for cooking charcoal and carried down from the hills, and large ovens fire hand made bricks for building. These industrious entrepreneurs sell directly to customers’ roadside with no stores in sight. Approaching Mbarara the speed of traffic picks up and so does my mood as we lightly jockey for our place on the road. A packed minibus hits the brakes in front of us and I follow suit pressing the brake to the floor. Glancing over at my navigator I mention something about a seatbelt while I drop gears and cut hard to the left to avoid a collision. “Brakes! We don’t have brakes!” I yell. Coasting into a gas station I pull up on the emergency brake in front of some mechanics having lunch. I pop the hood and raise one eyebrow inquisitively while I check the brake fluid and search for any obvious malfunctions. Noticing my lack of repair knowledge, two friendly mechanics approach to help troubleshoot. It didn’t take long for my 4x4 to be reduced to parts in a parking lot. Three hours pass in the hot sun and the roadside heroes tackle the problem whilst rotating for shade and water. My partner was relieved to find a truck serving meat on a stick nearby. She had one rule when it came to food, ‘follow the crowd’, and the crowd around the meat truck was big. Bellies full and a test drive successful we headed on our way. Financially the breakdown had been reasonable, but time was running short. Window’s down, music up! Sirens! In my rearview mirror I could still see the gas station behind me, and now, a police cruiser. A man in an immaculate white uniform approaches the car and asks “Why did you accelerate before reaching the town sign?” I explain our journey and point back to the gas station. He laughs, at or with us I’m unsure and sends us on our way. Night crept in and so did the poor decisions. In our haste to make it to camp before dark, we pursued multiple wrong turns. Exhausted, we choose one last road with the hope that after 20km of 4x4’ing we might arrive at our destination. An hour down the path and 13 hours into our day, my fearless navigator finally passes out, head bouncing against the window as I tackle the washouts and protruding rocks. ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ blares through the speakers. Window down, music up! Almost there! Maybe…