The specter of Idi Amin’s dictatorial regime kept looming as Sue and I alighted at the Entebbe Airport, the site of a dramatic hostage rescue operation by Israeli forces so many years ago. I half-shuddered as I made my way to the taxi stand to get to Kampala from Entebbe. Sue, who was silent up to this point, must have been mulling over the same things. By and by, however, we began to lose our edginess as the warmth of the place; the people reached out and clinched us with calming reassurance. We were propositioned by several motorcycle taxi drivers. These motorcycle taxis are called boda bodas and look extremely dangerous. So we simply shook our heads in polite refusal.We finally booked a taxi to take us to the hotel Sheena had booked for us, the Kampala Sheraton Hotel. As the towers of the hotel loomed up in the horizon both Sue and I felt immediately reassured. Set in a sultry, seductive tropical background it is an oasis – mainly owing to its magnificent gardens – inside a bustling city. The hotel has cafes, bars, a beauty salon, in fact the works.
We had a late lunch and being a tad too tired, went off to sleep. In the evening Sue and I went across to the Rock Garden, a rather cool night club in the midst of the city. We weren’t charged anything to be admitted and had some great Tusker beer while listening to some rollicking numbers mostly from Uganda and India. We were also treated to a lot of ABBA hits, a thing that bombards your senses wherever you, we realized. The country appears to be quite ABBA-struck.
The next morning we woke up early and stepped out of the hotel and could help marveling at the landscape that Kampala offers. Set out on seven hills, it is the site of the verdant and resplendent views I have seen during my travels. We took a stroll up to the Naksero Market with a zesty medley of shops and restaurants. Such brilliant colors and such bright smiles! I felt sorry when it was time to leave.
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