Source of the Nile

Nile River Explorers camp, Jinja.

Another day, another awesome setting. I can step out of my tent and look over the rapids of the Nile. This is going to be a great few days. My tooth is responding to the antibiotics and I'm no longer on painkillers (as Matt said, 'It's the new “Nick's Camera”!'). There are plenty of people here, rafting and kayaking to be done, and beer to be drunk. I'm on 'cook group' tonight – I'm no longer able to claim I'm too sick. In a moment of madness, I suggested whipping up a ham carbonara, so I now hold ultimate responsibility for how this comes out. I haven't made it for ten years, so should be interesting.

It's a funny thing about camps in East Africa (Uganda is in East Africa because it's featured in the Lonely Planet book 'East Africa', okay?). The settings are as (or even more) stunning than they were in Southern Africa. They're just tattier. They just look like they need a bit of money spent on them. I don't know, maybe it's the extra humidity, or the rain, but everything feels a bit mildewed. There are patches of mud here and there, and lots of insects buzzing around. The showers look okay, but touch the wall and there's a patina of slime there. Yum. Yes, think sympathetically of me as you step on to the Northern Line tonight, won't you?

A relatively quiet night, last night. We were supposed to head into town, but no-one could muster the energy. As soon as Rob stood up to make his post-dinner briefing, Boyo sang, 'I wannna hold your haa-a-aa-a-a-a-and...' This brought the house down, and it was some minutes before Rob could continue.

We've just been for swim in the Nile, then. There was one helluva current to swim against, and I bottled jumping off a high step. Two local kids were doing this, so naturally I thought I should. I was already to leap, with two people with cameras and videos at the ready, when two of the girls spotted me and said, 'No, Nick, don't be stupid! Be careful.' Sadly, this caused me to reconsider. As a compromise, I tried it from a lower step... and I found my backside lightly touched the riverbed. Hmm, perhaps not such a good idea. As always in these situations, it wasn't so much the injury risk that worried me as the idea of looking stupid having taken an unnecessary risk.

More bitching, then. Leigh, quietly, is beginning to attract some criticism. She's basically a bit of a princess, used to getting her own way. A bit of a flirt, too. She's one of these people who asks when she wants something – and asks a lot. Otherwise, everything good. We were stuck at the shopping centre for an hour or so earlier. They'd run out of eggs – a massive supermarket – and when I tried to buy ice, four different workers there couldn't help me at all. In the UK even the lowliest shelf stacker knows where stuff is since, you know, they see it EVERY SINGLE DAY. Not here, though. Our Canadians, Owen and Alex, went to get their phone unlocked. The guys said it would take twenty minutes.... then put it on the back of a bike to the other side of Kampala. It took an hour and, of course, there was no way of telling them 'forget it'. 'Welcome to Uganda', said Rob.