Life’s a beach!

Uganda is a landlocked country but that does not mean they ain’t gon’ have no beaches (by landlocked I mean, they can’t hepa their country without at least one neighbour knowing)

Today (one of the many days) we woke up at 11. Okay, I woke up at 11. My boy as usual woke at around 1-ish. And as usual with his hangie and mine (nilimsambazia). He found me chilling on the sofa with a terribly cold sprite. Nothing goes down more sweetly in the morning than a cold sprite after a rave-nous night. Yaani, my pal has a hangie, mpaka I can hear his head throbbing. He sits down. Grabs a smoke. Lights up. Complains of his hangie. And goes to kamata a pint he had left in the fridge.

“Boss, si umependa pombe. Grab aka sprite and see how it feels.”

He grabs a sprite and for the first time I hear the thumping going down. The boy smiles.

“Na wewe, mbona huna hangie?” he asks.

Last night we were out parrey harrying all night long…wiggling it, just more than a little bit (song in head, wiggle it)

That’s why my boy is wondering why I don’t have a hangie. I’m wondering the same.

So anyway, today after, we dedicated it to going to EBB (Entebbe) beach.

The history behind the beach is simple (sijui how true). There was this Indianese character who imported sand from sijui Mombasa and dumped it at a corner of lake Victoria and opened it to the public. So Ugandans pay a few thaos to have sand get stuck between their toes.

Now this character had a brilliant idea lakini while shipping the sand he should have chunguliad and taken note of the colors of the hotels around the coast. Coast hotels and the works are usually white or sometimes a daring orange. Lakini this msee, had chapad it a nice thick layer of blue Crown paint. Bana, now this colour wasn’t geling for one second.

That was the only sore sight (to me).

We checked in here, my pal, his chick and yours truly…kama kawaida, solo like the number one. But it was a good thing I came solo. The mamas in that area were YIKES! plenty. Wengi kama mchanga iliyo letwa kutoka Mombasa. My neck had started aching coz, left, right, centre, forward and back was full of ladies. Ladies. Ladies. And humans don’t have the necessary mechanism to allow swiveling of the neck. In any case, my thinogio (kuyo accent) fluid had kwishad.

This beach is nice. Okay, it’s noy uour usual coasto beach but close enough. And the idea behind it is interesting. Tables and chairs are spread everywhere. When I walked in I saw tables and chairs in the water and I went like…

KOOL!

My pal looked at me and said.

“Nothing cool there dude”

Those chairs I saw in the water weren’t originally intended to be in the water. The water level was low when they were made. Now the water’s back.

O-O-OOOOOOOOH! Okay!

Nothing much happened at the beach. Just downing a few (many) pints and watching the rear views of the many nnyabos who sauntered by. I actually dedicated a full roll of film to these documentable (sic) moments (but along the way mother-nature unleashed other beauties so not the full roll is dames) One interesting ‘little’ highlight was when the resident beach photographer (huyu chali ni mdogo kama pygmy wa mtaa ya west Uganda kule karibu na Rwanda) like a hawk swooped down on us hoping for a Kodak moment. Shock upon his little arse when he spotted my camera of strength (direct translation – bantuts saidia wadhii) on the table and quickly walked on disappointed.

After a few many hours on the beach we headed back to champara for a house party…JEEZ!

Dudes, the guy had all the pint you couldn’t think of. Beers. All the spirits Uganda could offer minus the holy one. So we teremshad till late in the night or early in the morning depending on your point of view. Before leaving I had a full glass of sijui which nasty drink. The host put an ultimatum to me…

“Banaa, you can’t leave a full glass of such fine drink. Take one sip/gulp/whatever till halfway then you can leave.”

Mimi nani? Halfway gani, I chapad that glass till 1/8th bakiad.

WEH!

My glass now was more than half empty and my head…likewise. From then on, auto-pilot was switched on. I was as skunk as a drunk.

Didn’t know when I reached home. All I know is I woke earlier as usual, grabbed my sprite, fiddled with my camera and watched my pal wake up again with my hangee.

I love Ug!

(the pix are in. so now comes the laborious task of scanning them. I can never trade my camera for a digicam…no way)