African Road Trip – Check-In

The sky was overcast and Carla was concerned about the rain, chiefly because of the couple’s backpacks that were on top of the vehicle.
“Tuingizie bag zetu ndani,” she called out to the conductor, who, thankfully, spoke Swahili.
“Mvua bado mbali, Madam” he responded. The vehicle sped on on the not-so-well-maintained country-side road
The man seated next to Carla said “Mmetoka Kenya?”
“Ndio,” she replied, and her response immediately triggered a torrent of unsolicited tour-guide information on the places zooming by.

A few thick drops of rain fell.
“Tafadhali tuingizie bag zetu ndani, all our clothes are in there” Carla called out again with a note of urgency.
The conductor glanced at Carla and spoke a few words to the driver in Baganda..
The huge backpacks were brought from the roof of the vehicle and into the vehicle, cramping the little luggage space that could be made available.
Absalom was asked to move to the row of seats immediately behind the driver, to hold one of the backpacks. Carla remained in the last row of seats with the friendly stranger.
The vehicle moved on, with Absalom catching snippets of conversation between Carla and Friendly Stranger, between periods of dozing. Outside, the rain poured. The huge bag in the small space made Absalom wish for the end of the journey, even though he and his wife did not know where they were going to stay. They were going to Mbale on the recommendation of Marilyn, a Ugandan friend. Absalom had tried to search for accommodation on the Net but only got so far.
The ninety-minute journey eventually came to an end and everyone got off. It was now late afternoon. The rain had reduced. Absalom had paid their fare a few minutes earlier. Apparently, in Uganda, you pay your fare as you near your destination or when you are getting off, something that a vehicle owner would not want to try in Kenya.
Carla asked Friendly if he knew of any decent but affordable accommodation in Mbale.
“Jaribu pale huwa nzuri,” he said, pointing down the street.
“Umejuaje, umelala hapo? Carla asked
“Hapana, nilipeleka rafiki” Mr. Friendly replied
The happy-go-lucky couple was happy that they did not have to start looking for further transport to a new destination.
“Haya asante!” Carla thanked Friendly

Absalom and Carla trudged down the street to the hotel that Friendly had pointed out.
“Well, ” Carla began “the entrance does have some nice colours so my hopes for this hotel are rising . . .”
They turned in.
“Now, this looks interesting . . .” Absalom said, looking at a metal bust of a man in uniform at the foot of the stairs that were at the end of a corridor. “If the original had indeed been like that, it would be sad for him and his family.” Absalom said.
Just so you know, the duo never got to know whose bust that was, which was not surprising because they never asked anyone except each other.

The reception was on the first floor.
“Hallo,” Carla greeted the young lady at the reception counter, who was paying them keen welcoming attention.
“Hallo and welcome,” she replied.
“We are looking for a room and we wanted to see what you have.”
“We have doubles for 60,000 and single for 50,000″ the reception lady replied. ” I will show you both.

She led the prospective guests to two rooms.
“Oh gosh, I hope the bathroom and loo are decent!” Carla whispered to Absalom.
Absalom had since made his peace with Carla’s fussiness about bathrooms and loos.

The rooms were quite neat, well lit by the light from a large window, and with a touch of class. Each room had a large, well-spread bed, a wardrobe that had a small TV and a decent bathroom. Carla evaluated these and up came a nod of approval. A door opened to a small balcony.
“Let’s take the second one,” Absalom said.
“Why?” Carla asked
“It gives us a view of the street”
“Yeah, that’s true”
The other room’s window opened to some sort of inner court behind the main hotel building, affording guests a view of roofs, some concrete and a few adjacent buildings.

Absalom and his wife paid for their room and got in.
“Aaaaaah!” Absalom sighed as he sprawled on his back on the bed. “So good to be able to lie down full length!”
“Yeah,” his wife agreed, sprawling on her tummy across him.
“Day one and you are already a fugitive from justice!” Absalom remarked “Escaping the system!”

He was referring to an episode at the border that morning. Carla’s motorbike had simply zoomed across the border into Uganda! It was while they were speeding away that two policewomen had called them back.
“Have your papers been stamped?” one of them asked Carla, with the expected Ugandan accent.
“No” she replied.
“What are you going to do in Uganda?”
“I am on honeymoon with my husband”
This was the first time the honeymoon card was being played.
“Aaah honeymoon!” the now delighted law enforcement officer responded. “When did you get married?”
“Last Saturday”
“That is excellent. Congratulations! the lady beamed. “Leave your bags here then go to the offices first.”

Carla left her luggage with the two officers, went through the two border offices, met Absalom, then came back to the policewomen.
Absalom’s approach was greeted with a broad smile on the face of the more talkative policewoman.
“Your wife was being stolen,” the policewoman reported as she checked the couple’s passports. “We rescued her for you”
“Oh please!” Carla thought, but did not voice it, and hoped she did not show it on her face either.
“Thank you” Absalom responded, not quite knowing what to say.
“How about some lunch to celebrate?” she asked.
Absalom fumbled hesitantly for his wallet and extracted a note.
He gave the money to Carla who gave it to the officer.
“And my friend here?” the spokesperson asked.
“That is for both of you,” Carla replied with finality.
“Enjoy your honeymoon!” the policewoman said and Absalom and Carla once more got onto their respective cycles and were carried away.
“It’s that accent,” Carla later said. “It just makes you want to give them money.”