Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
glistening beach onto which our bedraggled party emerged. It was a relief to be able to
replenish our water and, moreover, be out in the open where we could at least see where
danger lay. There were dozens of hippos in the water, noisily grunting - but as long as they
remained in the river, we were relatively safe.
We walked along the soft sand westward but, as we progressed, the beach narrowed to
the point where it became less than a metre wide. Occasionally, fallen trees blocked the
path so that we had to scramble over them or risk the water and wade into the river.
Then, as if we had escaped the frying pan and fallen into the fire, the unimaginable
happened.
On the far side of a log, a massive, eight feet long crocodile was blocking our path. I
froze. Francis raised his rifle in its direction but Boston, this time emboldened by his suc-
cessful escape from the hippo, picked up a stick and moved closer to the reptile. Only when
he was almost at the point of touching its tail, did the prehistoric lizard snap out. With the
speed of lightning, it launched itself at my guide and snapped its jaws shut. I stalled, con-
vinced Boston's hand had been lost to the beast - but the monstrous teeth had clamped
shut just an inch away from where his fingers still hung.
In that instant, the crocodile ran, disappearing into the placid water of the Nile. Moments
later, it reappeared only metres away, this time just its eyes and the end of its nose poking
out of the black depths. I looked back along the beach, from the direction we had come.
More crocodiles, five or six huge beasts, had emerged out of the forest, awoken no doubt
by the commotion on the beach. There was no way back, no way to retreat. Our only option
was moving forward along a twenty metre stretch of narrow sand that probably contained
more of the lurking beasts.
Perversely, Boston seemed to be enjoying the experience. 'Like the one in the museum,
Lev!' he was shouting, a demented grin on his face. Beside me, Francis was gripping his
AK-47 tightly and the porters simply looked terrified.
As one, we began to run, raving like mad men as we dashed along the beach. As expec-
ted, the forest alongside us came alive as gigantic crocodiles darted out of the undergrowth
to take shelter in the safety of the water. At one point, as I ran, I had to jump over the tail of
one crocodile as it slithered past me into the depths. Finally, and with all our limbs intact,
we made it to the security of a rocky headland. We were safe, for now.
The fierce heat made the rest of the day intolerable but, by dusk, we had reached our
first destination. It was the noise that came first - a clash of water that marked the top of
Murchison Falls. As we approached the top, from the opposite direction to Baker - who
had come from Lake Albert, still some miles further west - the roar of the rapids grew
louder and louder. At last, we crested a hill - and there, in all their glory, lay the magni-
ficent Murchison Falls. Below us, all the pure white water of the Nile was forced through
a chasm of hard rock only a few feet across, the entire power of the river converging into
