Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
I looked at a map, glaring out of my computer screen. I'd only got paper maps for the
most remote areas in South Sudan. Here, like the first sections of the journey, I figured I'd
be able to get power from villages and be able to charge my laptop and navigate off that.
It had worked well so far.
'One hundred and fifty miles,' I said, estimating the distance between Pakwach and the
town of Adjumani, where they'd be able to catch a ride back to the capital. Looking at their
rucksacks, I also knew that they had way too much gear, much of it unnecessary. 'I know
you've done this before, but I hope you'll agree to a porter to carry these loads . . .' I said,
trying to be as diplomatic as possible before the seasoned adventurers.
Luckily, I wasn't in the company of fools. 'Of course,' said Jason. In spite of his exper-
ience, he was more than happy to take advice.
The night was wearing on, and it had already been a long day for Jason and Matt. As
well as their flights, they had driven for seven hours through the fiercest Ugandan heat to
reach us - so, before the darkness was absolute, William showed them to their rooms.
'Are we set?' he asked.
'They've got far too much kit,' I said, 'but we can sort it in the morning, send half of it
on to the end. What about you? All sorted?'
Boston gave a mysterious mutter and ordered himself a drink. 'If there's one thing you
should learn in Africa,' he said, 'it's don't lend money.' He paused. 'Lev,' he went on,
'could you buy me a drink?'
In the morning, we spread Matt and Jason's kit around and began weeding out the bits of
apparatus we wouldn't need: snack bars and super noodles, spare trainers and more. Some
of it we would send on to Adjumani, and the rest we would assign to a local porter to
carry. One of the lodge staff, a youngster called Innocent, was happy to earn some extra
cash by accompanying us north, and for a few Ugandan shillings we were able to buy an
old bicycle to use as a two-wheeled packhorse. By the time we had sorted ourselves, it
was already 9.30am and the day was rapidly growing hotter. We had lost the good hours,
around dawn, when the heat is more bearable - but, with the sun searing overhead, we re-
turned to the heart of Pakwach town and set off.
The road we followed was around a kilometre west of the river itself. This, Boston ex-
plained, was Alur country, though its peoples could still speak many of the Acholi lan-
guages that had been the norm around Murchison. The Alur people dominate the border
between north-western Uganda and the north-eastern Democratic Republic of Congo -
and, of all the kingdoms inside Uganda, only theirs had been unaffected by the ban on tra-
ditional monarchies that was enacted in 1966. The first villages we came to were construc-
ted entirely of square adobe huts. In every doorway and pool of shade, the villagers were
