Beth and I have been struggling with Lariam since we started taking it a few months ago. It started with nightmares. The first one that we knew was a product of this anti-malarial joy was an all too realistic dream about rich people on safari being served live baby animals. They calmly cut into them with sharp knives, skinning them alive as they baa’ed and moo’ed helplessly, while I crumbled to a screaming and hysterical mess on the ground. Beth shook me awake as I cried out in my sleep. Oh, but it gets worse. (more…)

We dragged ourselves out of bed at 5am for one of those ever-pleasant early-morning buses. We were told that we couldn’t buy tickets the day before so we needed to get there early to secure a seat. We crept out to the taxi we had ordered the night before, and zoomed to the bus station as the sun came up.

As we waited in the bus station, an older American gentleman in pleated khakis began talking to us about Africa. He taught African Studies at University of South Carolina, and since Dallas was an African Studies major at Madison, there were points of commonality. He asked us each in turn, in a patronizing professor-ish way, what we were up to, what we did before we left and what we were going to do when we returned.  (more…)

While we were settling in to the hostel in Kampala, I realized my iPod was missing. I had been listening to it on the bus, and while both Lauren and I remember me getting it ready to be packed away, it was nowhere to be found.

‘I’ve left it on the bus,’ I realized in horror. Not only had I lost an expensive gift from Lauren and my parents, now I would have no music to listen to for the next six months.

Lauren and I tried calling the Scandanavian Bus phone number, but we couldn’t get through. Lauren wanted to take a cab back into the city to ask see if it had been turned in, but I was sure it was stolen by now and didn’t want to waste more money on expensive taxis. (more…)

Many travelers we had come across in Africa were reading “The Dark Star Safari” by Paul Theroux, his tale of traveling from Cairo to Cape Town overland. It had first been suggested to by Matt in Qatar, and our friend Sam had given us his copy in Zanzibar. Beth and I took turns reading it, each expressing our annoyance in turn. Where was he going that he was seeing all these “broken, crumbling, dilapidated” cities? Had things changed so much in the five years since he’d written the book? (more…)

In the morning, trusty Ally was waiting for us to get off the ferry with his taxi.  We had texted him earlier, asking him to join us for breakfast before we headed off to the bus station.  He also had made our bus reservations for us.

At Chefs Pride, Ally ended up treating us to breakfast, despite us trying to pay for his.  (This man can be more stubborn than Lauren – impressive.)  He then drove us to the bus station where we were catching a bus to Arusha for a night stopover before our trip to Kampala. (more…)