Blog

My heart is beating so loudly that it must be heard. We’re lying in our rooftop tent on top of our Toyota Landcruiser. It is pitch black outside and since a couple of seconds it is completely silent as well. I am looking at the woman next to me who is now awake, she looks at me with her big blue eyes and brushes her long dark hair out of her sleepy face. I answer to her “what is going on” question is an unintelligible murmur, more to calm her down than that I actually have an answer. I stick my

In the western part of Uganda you will find an area that looks more te belong in Vietnam, Birma or Cambodia. It gives off a totally different feeling than we are used to in Africa. It makes you realize how large this continent is and how many hidden treasures of nature is has. The land around us looks like a wild frozen sea of nature with giant waves, the green icebergs pointing up towards the clouds and the mist, especially in the morning, makes it look like a fairytale. A lot of the native

When we visited the Karamojong we were incredibly lucky in capturing two amazing stories. Stories which are told by the Karamojong on the long and dark evenings to entertain each other around the campfire. This second story was told by Elizabeth from Kautakou and she tells us what it was like growing up in a time of violence. A little girl is sitting hidden away in the corner of the house. She pushes herself as close to the wall of mud and branches as she possibly can. If she would’ve been able

It is Thursday the 8th of October when I close the car door behind me. My hands grasp the light brown coloured steering wheel which is covered in dust, just like the dashboard. The car shakes a bit when I start it and the shaking slowly changes into a more rhythmic shudder: a familiar sound at last. We can hear the dust underneath the tyres when we drive away from the entrance and start on the climb to the village.On our way to the village we pass by some stalls with local products and some

It is just around midday when we start on a steep climb up the hill. We just left the old Christian settlement of Livingstonia: a dusty little town started around 1600, based in the hills and looking out over the pale blue lake Malawi. We are on our way to the Mushroom Farm, a small settlement from much more recent years. Although the name is giving you the impression that it’s taking you back to the sixties with psychedelic mushrooms, skunk and a hint of LSD, I’m being told that the name

The gate from the campsite slides open, but they are having a hard time in getting the heavy gate out of the way. The wheels made from steel are rolling with some difficulty on the rusty rail. When we drive out, we immediately drive into town. We squeeze the car through the low hanging branches of a mango tree and can hear the unripe, green mangos hit the roof like hail. A sandy track leads us to the city centre and back on the tarmac. We get in line behind some cars waiting for the fuel station

We almost miss the exit and with quite some speed we drive off the tarmac. The changeover between tarmac and dirt is a sharp cut off and it feels like we’re diving head first into the gravel road. Immediately we are followed by a large dust cloud as we make our way through Mbuya wa Jerumani. Like every small African town there is a large tree that gives shade to almost half of the village. I have to say that the locals are doing it way better than us. They spend the hottest part of the day

Out of all the rainy days we had in Nairobi, there was one sunny one and we spent it inside the Ethiopian Embassy trying to get our 3 month visas.Our original Africa route included Ethiopia, Sudan and Egypt, but we had heard from various travellers that this visa is really hard to get and most people send their passports home, which was not an option for us. So, because of this we had already decided to drive the west coast until we arrived in Nairobi and talked to two travellers from the UK who

It is 5 o’clock in the morning when I pull open the heavy doors of the gate which leads to the road. I can see the shoes from the night guard poking out of his little office, soft snoring also comes out and fills the warm humid air around us. When the gate is completely open we can see the streets of Kampala, Uganda. We get into the traffic which is slowly coming to life in the city with a population of 1.5 million. It’s a vibrant city with on the one hand the typical African chaos and on the

Moroto is like the dot on the i, it’s not entirely necessary, but it does make a difference and finishes it up nicely. That book on the shelf, with its off-putting cover, it’s been there for years, but you can’t really put yourself to read it. Then comes the day you finally do, you take that book, you forget about the cover, turn the first page and start reading. Before you know it you’re being sucked in by the story. You inhale the letters like it’s the last oxygen on earth. Consciously and