The African Queen
It’s January 1993 as Phil Clisby continues his travels through Africa. This time he journeys across the wilds of Uganda, his personal jewel in the crown
I’m not sure what it was in particular, but Uganda was my favourite country that I travelled through in the early ’90s. Maybe it was the unsurpassable Queen Elizabeth National Park, or happening upon Lake Victoria and all the legends (and myths) of the great explorers that it conjured up, along with our mistaken belief that we were at the source of the Nile.
It might have been the fact that we had just spent a gruelling – though thoroughly entertaining – month travelling through the Congo (then Zaire) and survived all the challenges it had thrown at us. It could simply have been witnessing the results of the remarkable recovery the country had undergone in such a short space of time following the brutal dictatorship of Idi Amin. Or maybe it was simply its welcoming people – including the man who told me the world was going to end in a couple of days… and the fact it didn’t.
Whatever it was, Uganda mesmerised me. And left me with a sense of wanting to return.
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