25 people, a goat and a chicken

We awoke with the aim of heading to Sipi Falls to see the three waterfalls and hang out in the mountains for a bit. The night before we had spoken to the man at the Post Office about getting the ‘Post Bus’ to Mbale, about an hour from the falls, in the morning. He told us to be at the Post Office for 8.30am and all would be fine.

What happened next was truly representative of a lot of our experiences here so far. We awoke nice and early and packed light – we were only staying in Sipi Falls for two nights so left most of our heavy stuff at Kendra’s. Then we made our way to the Post Office nice and early to ensure we got a spot on the bus. But it was a different man behind the counter this particular morning and he had different ideas. “The bus doesn’t leave from here, it leaves on the other side of town. The bodah bodahs outside know the place”. He proceeded to plonk the pair of us on the back of one bike and told the driver where to go. It was still too early in the morning for any cognitive thought on our part so we hopped on.

The bodah took us to the outskirts of town to a place that was seemingly a matatu drop off and pick up point as well as a bus stop. One man at the stop told us that the bus had already gone, but there would be another one in half an hour. At that point a matatu conductor overheard we were going to Mbale and before we knew it we were onboard his van for the long 3 hour drive north. Our initial plan to get the bus was to give us a bit more room on the longer journey, and whilst we have enjoyed matatu rides so far, we weren’t anticipating taking one for such a long trip.

About half way to Mbale we pulled up and everyone got out at the behest of the conductor who proceeded to walk us all onto another matatu for the rest of the drive. As with most of the trip so far we were picked up and put somewhere else with no real input from ourselves or any knowledge as to why we were switching buses…

The trip in the second matatu began nicely. There was actually a little bit of room to spread out. However, any hopes of a comfortable ride were completely dashed when we got to the next stop. A family of about 6 people all jumped on board, taking our total to 25 passengers – which thankfully included a few small children – in a bus meant to take 15. We were 10 people over capacity. Before we set off Claire and I noticed the conductor was pulling a goat on a string towards the van. Where on earth was this goat going to fit into the equation? Turns out, right between my legs. The boot was lifted and the poor goat was stuffed in the back, only for his head to pop up from under my seat. It remained there for most of the trip making strange noises that were essentially an effort to vocalise its displeasure at the situation.

Just to put this part of our journey into even more perspective, the back row of the matatu, where Claire and I were sat, consists of three seats. Imagine something a bit larger than a normal car. On those three seats you had two young children – who appeared to be travelling alone – on the right hand seat, Claire and I sitting on the middle seat – with the goat between my feet, and an old lady to my left with two small children on her lap! We remained this way until Mbale and when we got off we noticed that the woman sat next to me, with her two children on her lap, was also holding a chicken.

Once in Mbale, we were considering calling a local private hire taxi driver to give us a ride to Sipi Falls. But as soon as we got off the matatu, another conductor came rushing over. “You going to Sipi Falls?” How did he know! And yes, you guessed it, before we knew it, we were crammed in another minivan for the next leg of our trip, which would take us all the way to Sipi Falls in the mountains where we’d be staying for the next two nights. Or so we thought…

This matatu stopped in the foothills of the mountains and we were ushered out yet again. It didn’t look like what we were expecting. And that’s because we weren’t there yet. The next leg would be by car. Our matatu driver gave a man some money and we were plonked in the back of a Toyota Corolla, sharing the back seats with a small Ugandan lady, whilst another was sat in the front. We were happy, we had room to sit normally, one person to a seat and the driver knew where we were going. However we didn’t head off for about 10 minutes. By this point Claire and I knew what that meant. Five minutes later we are making our ascent up the mountain. Claire, me and the small Ugandan lady had been joined in the back by another Ugandan lady, and one more had been added to the front, leaving the first lady with one arse cheek on the passenger seat and one on the driver’s seat. Oh, and there was an elderly man in the boot.

However, despite all of the cramming and switching of vehicles the trip was highly entertaining and to top it off there was method to the madness. Come 2pm we had made it to Lacum Lodge and were laying on our bed in our bamboo room looking out over the forest covered mountain range and beyond. We had travelled for 5-and-a-half hours, in five different vehicles covering countless miles at a total cost of 22,500 Ugandan Shillings each, which is equal to £4.50. And, at no point did Claire or I have to think about what we were doing. The bus drivers always knew where to put us. You just tell them where you’re going right at the start of the trip, and you get there. It may be uncomfortable at times, but its efficient, and you get to where you need to be without having to worry.

Our room at Lacum Lodge

Inside our room

The view from our room.

That view again.