Yakety-yak

The water level of the Nile dropped significantly today, and I'm likely to be detained at the border because the missing water is currently sloshing around my sinuses. Seriously, I have a feeling that if I tilt my head in the right direction, a litre of river water is going to pour out – much like it did after kitesurfing in Fuertaventura (eliciting a 'Dude!' from the slack-jawed instructor). Today was a fantastic day, though – the sort of day I like best.

There were several things people were doing today – horse riding, a quadbike safari, kayaking, village walks... I could have done a half day each, but I elected to do a full day of kayaking – partly because of the price differential, but mainly because a full day would give me enough instruction to be able to ride some rapids. In the end Amelia, Dave and I signed up for it, with me being the only person to do the whole day.

The morning was spent down at a broad eddy in the Nile, where we'd been swimming the day before. Let me tell you, I have a new-found respect for the safety kayakers when we were rafting. My god, these things are unstable. In my opinion, they actually look faintly ridiculous, since they're so small. Basically, imagine the sort of kayak you see on the TV – the pointed cigar shape that we, in the UK, seem to call a 'canoe' – with the front and back cut off. I attacked the learning process in my usual utterly clumsy gung-ho manner. 'Paddle over there and back', said Ibrahim – our instructor. And I did. And I turned over. I think it says something about just how clumsy this was in that the instructor hadn't yet explained what to do in that situation. Anyway, I guessed enough to release the neoprene 'spray skirt' that covered the hole I was sitting in and crawl out, rather red-faced. After that, I was a little more circumspect with my paddling. We had two guys with us: Ibrahim, I already mentioned – a young Ugandan guy. There was also David, who seemed older, and slightly simian. The two worked well together, although we struggled with their accents occasionally. Ibrahim – as lead instructor – obviously spoke more, but David – in the background – was able to observe and provide many gems of information. Once we'd sorted paddling, we moved onto the T-rescue – this was a way of righting and overturned kayak, but simpler and easier than the classic 'eskimo roll'. Essentially, when you overturn, you let go of your paddle and put your hands on the sides of the upturned kayak. The rescuer comes in at ninety degrees and you use your hands on the nose of his kayak combined with a flick of the hips to right yourself. This proved exceptionally useful to me, although it took me a long time to master it, with my sinuses taking a pasting every time.

All the time spent upside down in the Nile meant that despite the luke-warm water, I was beginning to shiver. At lunch, only pride and determination kept me sticking to the whole day I'd signed up for. Lunch on the terrace overlooking the Nile in the sunshine, however, warmed me up and I was ready to go. The afternoon started rather oddly. Since I was the only person signed up for a whole day, it was just me and the two instructors. We trucked up to the Dam – where the rafts put in the day before. Ibrahim and I were in the back, and he told me that the dam was where Idi Amin used to dump the bodies of people he wanted 'disappeared'. It's chilling to find one's self in places where so many inhuman things have taken place. Down at the dam, we had to look around for a spot to put into the river, since there was a mass baptism taking place. It was led by what were obviously white missionaries, and they had an 'orphanage' minibus parked there. It bothers me, to be honest. I mean, I have no real right to criticise, since I'm not doing a whole lot to help in Africa, but the idea of people only receiving the help and aid they need if they take the Lord into their hearts sticks a bit for me.

Anyway, out on the river, we practiced eskimo rolling, and I could I get the hang of it? Could I bollocks, could I. It proved incredibly frustrating, and the only thing that kept me at it was the knowledge that I found snowboarding so hard to get the hang of in the beginning. we went over a grade I rapid, and I tipped. Of course I did. Not knowing how close I was to the others, I released the skirt and became 'a swimmer', as they term people not in their kayaks. David took my kayak on to the bow of his, drained the water out, then helped me clamber back in.

Over the course – which took us back to the camp where we'd been practicing, I did two grade II rapids. I have to say going into a grade II in a kayak felt like a grade V on a raft. As I followed Ibrahim down into the swell, the white water loomed above me. I managed to get caught, and I still don't know what happened. I followed Ibrahim as well as I could, was paddling up a large slab of white water when suddenly I found myself going backwards. I was caught, 'surfing' on the rapids. I wasn't entirely sure if this was normal, when the sight of David cruising past on my left convinced me it wasn't. Sure enough, I rode up again, tipped sideways and I was upside down and swimming again. I can see that this kayaking laugh must be awesome once you learn how to right yourself.

At the finish, at our practice spot – having had David say to me, 'You must get back in, quickly!' while I was laughing over another capsize because we were approaching the Bugiagli Falls – we continued on the eskimos. I was determined to crack it. After three more failures I said, 'right, if I don't get it this time, I'm done'. I went under, steadied myself, and reached with the padde – and suddenly I was upright. Like everything, if done right it's effortless. Cue lots of whooping, high fives and a few tail spins from Ibrahim (just to remind me I'm still shit). Having cracked it, I must have done about twenty more, with varying degrees of success

I climbed the stairs back up to the camp, utterly elated, I gave them both a bit of cash each as a tip – and that is tipping as I think it should be. It wasn't expected, but I'd had a great day and they'd been willing to stay out there as long as it took. It was fascinating talking to the two of them. Five years ago, the kayak company had basically advertised, looking for locals who wanted to instruct. It's partly a community aid thing, but mainly I think having locals employed makes it much more likely for Muzungu business to be accepted in the area. David himself ran a shop (or shack, if you like) outside the campsite, selling drinks to locals. He kayaks when they need him. They said there are local bars where you're looked on as minted if you walk in with a ten thousand Ugandan Shilling note (worth around three and a half quid!). Neither had ever been abroad, and I must admit I did feel a bit like a rich tourist.

So, kayaking? Loved it. Like everything I try like this, I now want to take it up and become an expert at it, but whether I do or not, who knows. I love the adrenalin, though – it was so exciting going into a grade II, and knowing I could survive and right myself would mean I could drop in with complete confidence. We'll add it to the list when we get back to the UK, shall we, along with surfing and freediving.