The Hairy Lemon

Day 175: Leaving The Hairy Lemon Isn’t Easy

And not because we didn’t want to leave… we were ready to move on, but we quickly learned that leaving The Hairy Lemon Isn’t Easy. At. All. Getting a ride to “mainland” was fine, but then we felt slightly stranded with no boda bodas to be found and a giant angry pig chasing after us. We walked to an intersection of sorts where two huts sat by the side of the road. One friendly man smiled and I asked him where we could find a boda boda. He pointed in the direction back towards the river, and we walked back in what felt like the opposite direction we were supposed to go in. Luckily, there were a few men by the riverside and one got on his phone to call some friends to come give us a ride. They (as expected) charged us more than the fare we paid to get there, but we didn’t exactly have room to negotiate, and we climbed on our respective boda boda for another bumpy ride back to Nazingo to catch the first matatu of the day.

I wanted to photograph everything. Desperately. But, I didn’t feel comfortable at all on the super poor road we were on to whip out my dslr. Babies sans underpants sat in front of their houses. School children waved as we rode past. Women gathered at wells to fill their jerrycans up with water. Despite clinging to my backpack and back of the boda boda for dear life, it was a beautiful ride.

Apologies that the video above isn’t as entertaining – it was taken instead on the main road we took from Jinja back to Kampala.

Back in Kampala, we went back to the noisy downtown guesthouse, and were granted what we were told would be a quieter room. Regardless of the noise, I have never been so grateful for a white porcelain toilet in all my life. At the Hairy Lemon, there were eco toilets, think: plastic box with a hole straight down to the ground below.  It’s a really great idea. Truly. There are even buckets of ash to cover any solid waste that you might leave behind. (Unfortunately, our bucket in our dorm bathroom was without ash until the last afternoon we were there.) There was also a resident gecko that I’m pretty sure enjoyed the shade between the toilet seat and lid. He liked to scare me every time I went into the bathroom. Thinking I was one step ahead of the little guy, I prepared myself to meet his acquaintance and gingerly lifted the lid, shining my light around the toilet to scare him off, so I could sit down in peace.

Only instead of one feisty little gecko under the lid, a writhing pile of maggots below caught my light and terrified me even more than a little lizard ever could. Holy. Cow. (only I didn’t scream out ‘cow’) I practically dumped the now full bucket of ash into the hole and contemplated yet again peeing off the cabin front-porch… That is, until Andrew came around to see what the fuss was about and assured me the maggots couldn’t ‘get me’ while I sat down to do my business. (Worst case of stage-fright yet, FYI.)

Needless to say, back in the city, I enjoyed a truly western style bathroom, and a bed that didn’t require a ladder to get into. Andrew magically figured out where and how to order pizza to be delivered to us.  That, and the latest Walking Dead episode cures all terrifying bathroom experiences.  (at least, for the short-term)

Day 174: The Hairy Lemon

I get why Christian liked The Hairy Lemon so much. It’s this super chill island in the middle of the Nile, surrounded by prime kayaking opportunities. I’m assuming it’s kayaker heaven. But for me and Andrew, not being experienced kayakers… and on a tight budget, we probably didn’t love it as much as we would have if we came with our own kayak or more funds to have lessons or just to have someone take us out on the water.

It probably didn’t help that there was some epic kayak designer/manufacturer and his Red-Bull-sponsored-kayaking-son staying on the island when we were there. They were super nice. But. Dudes only talked about kayaking. all. the. time. I had to laugh when the Red-Bull-sponsored-son told me he “tries not to wear too much of the Red Bull gear at once…” He said this while wearing a Red Bull shirt, Red Bull sunglasses, while he worked on his laptop with a giant Red Bull Sticker on it, next to his Red Bull bag. I wondered what he considers “too much at once.”

Not being into the kayaking thing this time around, we lounged, and had a dip in the natural pool of water on the island. That is, until Andrew was convinced he had contracted Bilharzia through his butt. 

In case you’re not familiar with this disease, it’s caused by parasitic worms and it’s common in tropical ponds, streams and irrigation canals harboring bilharzia-transmitting snails.

He was convinced something was wrong with his butt, and guess who had to investigate because he couldn’t see for himself?

Me.

I don’t know why butts and ailments of are so funny, but they are. (And having had surgery on my tailbone before college, I totally get it.) Regardless, I immediately turned into a child and started laughing at his paranoia, yet promptly told him to drop trou so I could investigate.

“I think your butt cheeks were just chafing on the boda boda (motorcycle) ride or something…” I said as we stood outside our dorm cabin investigating. He wasn’t convinced.

“Do you want me to take a picture?” I asked, knowing full well that would have made me feel better ten years ago when I had no idea what was going on on my backside. And so, I did what any awesome travel partner would do, I grabbed my phone, parted his cheeks, and took a picture for him to see.

“See, it’s totally not bilharzia… But, I think some anti-biotic cream would make you feel better…” I suggested. He agreed, and busted some out, turning to me yet again for assistance. After I demanded he supply a q-tip, I channeled my inner nurse and complied.

Traveling around the world; not for the feint of heart.

Aside from the bilharzia scare, laying around was pretty much the extent of our day.

Day 173: Kampala to The Hairy Lemon

When we went to Murchison Falls, a dude on our safari (Hey Christian!) raved about this place called The Hairy Lemon, on an island, in the middle of the Nile. We decided to check it out. Jinja, even though it holds the source of the Nile just outside of town, had nothing else to offer (in my humble opinion), so we thought chillin’ out on an island would be better. Just getting there turned into quite the adventure.

We had to take a matatu from Kampala to Jinja. Then wait for another matatu from Jinja to Nazigo. Then try your hardest to retrieve your backpacks from the back of the matatu simultaneous to swatting (lit’rally) the boda boda drivers away from grabbing your bags for you (claiming you for their ride). Then bargaining with said boda boda drivers for a reasonable fare down to the river. Then balancing your backpacks and your behind on the back of a boda boda for one of the bumpiest boda boda ride yet. Then ringing a gong on one side for someone to bring the boat over for you to get onto the island. That’s all. That’s all it takes to get to The Hairy Lemon…

Throughout Uganda, I’ve been intrigued by the storefronts and homes (let alone the day to day life) we’ve been passing by on our public transportation. Most of the storefronts (and some houses) are covered billboard style advertising paint, phone plans, Mountain Dew, milk, etc. etc. I tried to take some pictures from our matatu from Kampala to Jinja.

A series of advertisements wouldn’t be complete without one for The Lord, am I right?