We woke up still full and packed up ready to move towards Uganda. We had two stop off’s along the way. One night at Lake Elmentaita where I walked for hours among the lesser flamingos, the greater flamingos, the pelicans and all the other birds with Grace, the manger of the hotel we were staying in. The next night we spent at the overland camp in Eldoret and devoured cheese bought from their cheese factory!
A busy boarder crossing and finally we were here…Uganda.

What can I say but that it actually does feel like coming home. Every boda boda, matatu, road stall, chapatti or glimpse of the red soil brought a huge smile of recognition to my face.
Over the past week we have revisited old friends, slept, drank and eaten at old haunts and a huge feeling of contentment has swirled around me constantly….till Saturday the 10th of May.
Rob and I had spent the last couple of days staying with Asiimwe (my placement partner) in Kampala before driving to Nawampanda (my old village) for a visit. With excitement visibly mounting we pulled into the school which was looking in great shape. New classrooms where they had fallen down whilst I had been there, new paint job new… we looked at our resource centre. The place that we had put so much time and effort into, not to mention the donations we had received towards stocking it. The new paint covered the health themed paintings done by the kids, the shelves were still there but stocked with drums. Through the paint on the far wall you could just make out the faint outline of SPW vols 2004 under the new blue colour. My heart sank. Though I had been preparing myself for this moment I had still felt a glimmer of hope that the resource centre would still be standing. It turns out that another charity had come to the village two years after we had left. They threw money into the new classrooms, bought foot balls for the schools and performed the paint job. No one even though to ask them to leave our room! The books, fortunately are still there, locked in the headmaster’s office. He was away so I couldn’t drill him on whether the kids actually get access to these resources or not. I am also glad to say that SPW have stopped trying to set up resource centres. They are now wholly intent on education – let the other charities splash money around.
So yeah, that was the first down point. We proceeded to the trading centre to buy some chapattis for lunch and were greeted by friendly, memorable faces and one drunk loud busy body who kept welcoming me to the village and intoning how ignorant everyone was. Needless to say we decided to move on and visit Itanda Falls, a grade 6 rapid where the rafting finishes. It was along a bumpy, dusty road that Rob uttered his ‘uh oh’ and Daphne stalled. I have to say I’m still not entirely certain what happened. One minute all was well, the next the clutch was compressed and was not springing back into shape. Further inspection revealed that when the clutch was compressed, clutch fluid spurted everywhere. There was nothing we could do but head to a mechanic. Starting the car in first gear and moving only between first and second Rob drove back to Nawampanda where Asiimwe and I jumped out of the still moving vehicle and he carried on in this way to Jinja. He arrived safely and found Dave, a lovely mechanic whose speciality is Land Rovers.
Back in the village Asiimwe and I wandered from house to hut greeting old friends and making our way through a continuous stream of offers for tea and beans (because you can’t take tea alone!) Before we finally made our way to the Nile River just in time to see the rafters pass by. Even this magical place of my memory has changed. The ‘lagoon’ we used to swim in has dried up, the falls seem bigger and changed as a result. Across from our view point a new tourist lodge has been built. The ‘Haven’ is said to be lovely, well of course it is, I always knew this spot was stunning but they have rather spoilt my view!
To top it all off our night was spent sweatily being munched by mosquitoes. It was rather sad but by the next morning I was ready to leave the village. I guess there are just some memories that should not be revisited but rather kept as they are. Uganda is still showing its potential to enthral me but the village has seen the last of me. One good thing however is that a number of my students have found work in Jinja and Kampala – a pretty major achievement considering most of their parents never even leave the village!

So now I sit writing this as we wait for a part to arrive. We spent the whole of yesterday dismantling Daphne. The seats came out, the hand brake disconnected, the prop shafts were removed and finally the gear box and transmission hub had to be lowered (by 4 very strong men) to the ground. 9 hours work revealed: a dead clutch. We have our suspicions that it was put in wrongly by a previous workman but we are not entirely sure. The long and short or it is more mechanics!
Poor Daphne.