New Year, New Me?

New Year, New Me?

Dry January anyone?

Veganuary maybe?

Grand plans in place to have the best year yet?

Dreams, goals, and hopes for the New Year neatly documented complete with a monthly planner?

Gym membership started on 1^st January?

The beginning of a New Year can feel equal parts exciting and overwhelming.

Well, Happy New Year 2022! We made it!

After yet another difficult and unpredictable year living under the shadow of a pandemic – which does not seem to be going anywhere anytime soon, we are here! And that is enough to be grateful for. Many of us lost loved ones in 2021 – to the pandemic and to other causes. But we still have the gift of life.

While 2021, was not smooth sailing for me, far from it, I still have a lot to be grateful for.  Here are some of my highlights/ wins.

I started journaling

This seems like such a small and perhaps unnecessary ritual. While I will not claim that it has been a game-changer, it has been very useful.  When I was contemplating starting to journal, my friend Chloe advised that if nothing else, it was a “brain dump”.  My other friend Jackee, whose focus is always razor-sharp (click on the link to check out her amazing work!) advised that journaling has helped keep her accountable to herself. So, I purchased a journal and started scribbling away (I should have been a doctor, my handwriting is atrocious).  I often revisited my writing to help identify patterns, and in the end some of my journal writing helped me make some changes. I would highly recommend keeping a journal – even bullet journaling is enough.

I left England and the UK (briefly!)

We all know how tricky travel has been for the last couple of years. Will I lose my money if the rules change? Will I be forced to spend a small fortune quarantining in a hotel if the rules change and I get caught out? Will the rules have changed by the time I arrive at my destination? How many tests do I need? Questions galore!

I had been fortunate to travel at the beginning of 2020, first to Geneva on a study tour for my MA and to Berlin to visit family in March 2020 – just before the poop hit the fan!

In June 2021, I made it to Edinburgh for a few days to celebrate my birthday – woohoo! What a stunning and beautiful city! I would absolutely go back. A highlight of the trip was a short hike up to Arthur's Seat . I won’t lie, it didn’t feel that short as I was panting and sweating to get to the top.  I was rewarded with stunning views and later, a sunburnt neck (yes, dark skin requires sun protection too and I do use it but I must have missed my neck).

In October, I flew out of the UK! There was some anxiety and uncertainty involved in planning this. But I was determined to make a break for it when I could! So I booked the flight and accommodation then kept everything crossed. And it happened! It wasn’t as painful as anticipated. I was fully vaccinated at the time – which made things slightly easier. We don’t know what being fully vaccinated means anymore but that’s a different conversation. The most painful part was completing the health declaration form for Spain, oh yeah, did I say my destination was Mallorca/Majorca? Getting through both airports, London Heathrow and Palma, Majorca was straightforward.  The health screening at Palma was quick and barely noticeable.

The weather was amazing even in early October, apart from one day when it pissed down. The food was finger-licking, loads of yummy, fresh seafood. The sangria was delicious. Manacor was a dream! Porto Cristo and Cala Ratjada especially were such a vibe. The former for a nice, chilled afternoon plus a lovely food market, the latter has an amazing evening vibe!

Yeay! I made it to the top! Picture taken just before I arrived at the summit, but deffo one of my faves from the hike.

 

  

Picture 1 Sea bass and views from Quince in Porto Cristo. Picture 2 Gorgeous Arta

Reunions

Not many mind, but even one is an absolute highlight. Macrina and I had not seen each other in over 20 years.  We finally caught up and enjoyed an afternoon of fine dining at The Ivy. It was like old times. We laughed and talked about any and everything. This was even more special as Mac suffers with a chronic illness (sickle cell anaemia) - she is very public about it and raises awareness around it, so she won’t mind me saying so.  I have far too many memories from our teenage days of her lying broken in a hospital bed – with a group of us praying and hoping that she would pull through. Many years later, it was fantastic hearing about her wonderful life with her husband and daughters.

Health

I had a couple of health scares including a breast cancer scare. Thankfully I am okay and fighting fit – just to clarify, it wasn’t cancer. Good health is something I am even more grateful for and working hard to hold on to.

New beginnings

I made a difficult decision and let go of something that was not fulfilling. It paid off! I ended the year on a fresh note which has filled me with renewed energy as we start the New Year.

So Veganuary and dry January? No to the former, lol, maybe yes to the latter.

New Year, New Me? Maybe not, but I’m looking forward to seeing what the year has in store for me and manifesting positive vibes galore. 

Wishing you all the good stuff this year (whatever that looks like to you) – peace, security, good health, love.

 

 

 

Recent jaunts - Picturesque Tanzania

I got bitten by the travel bug, no idea when it happened but it did. A few years back, a friend and I made up our minds to go gallivanting at least a couple of times a year, it was mainly weekend getaways  somewhere in Europe and so it was easily done because at the time I lived in London town, flights and accommodation were quite reasonable and there was always lastminute.com if all else failed. Fast forward to a few years down the line and I am settled back home.

I don’t travel as much as I used to, I will put this down to a number of reasons.  A few months ago, I was presented with the opportunity to market a beautiful boutique hotel in Zanzibar that I had fallen in love with the first time I visited before it officially opened in December 2011. I was sorely tempted but also had a significant work load to contend with at my full time job so I was a little bit reluctant. Well, until it was pitched to me differently, at the beginning of the year, my very wise boss mentioned it again, asked when I could go to Zanzibar. Well, I was not going to say no to that, was I? Always eager to travel.

I was on a flight a week later. Said flight was a fairly popular budget airline. We checked in on time, took off on time and landed on time, impressive, right?  I was to spend the night in Dar es Salaam before flying to Zanzibar the following day. I checked into my hotel, a short distance from the airport just before 8pm. Once I was settled and feeling suitably refreshed, I headed to the hotel restaurant to grab a bite and a glass of vino, well that was the plan. I had just placed my food order when without warning; I started to feel massively queasy. I will spare you the details but let us just say, I barely made it to the bathroom in time. This set the tone for the rest of my evening.  I slept for not more than a couple of hours that night, my dinner and vino remained untouched. I had never had food poisoning but I had very little doubt that this was what ailed me. My very own whatsapp doctor  later confirmed that it indeed sounded like a bad case of food poisoning. It was easy to identify the culprit, word of advice, steer clear of non veggie sandwich options on budget flights.

As night turned into morning, I started to worry that I would not be able to make even the short domestic flight across to the island. Breakfast was a no no but thankfully, I made the short taxi journey back to the airport and managed to make it through the short wait for the flight. God had my back, as always, when I boarded, I discovered I was the only passenger aboard the flight.  The rather lovely pilot having been apprised of my little situation asked me to sit upfront with him, handed me a sick bag and told me to knock myself out, I will assume he did not mean that literally. Let me tell you though, flying with vistas of the Indian Ocean does something to one, I landed in Zanzibar without incident but decided against taking the prearranged trip to Stone Town. It is a 45 minute drive from the airport to Pongwe, the little village where Seasons is located, I felt I could just about stomach that drive, pun intended. 

Amazing view from my co pilot's seat

We arrived at the hotel and I remember being struck again by just how breathtaking it is, from the car park looking through the entry arch, you are greeted by the sight of beautiful azure (I like that word)  ocean waters  and lush gardens. I arrived to a very warm welcome from the staff and a delicious tall glass of cocktail juice, even in my state, I could appreciate the taste.  Michael, the proprietor who happens to be my crazy brother from another mother and father had called ahead and alerted Chris the manager to my predicament. Once I was checked in, I headed straight to my cottage, my very exciting order of heavily spiced black tea, soup, fruit and water was delivered soon after. Well, it was all I could manage, just about.  My body continued to take quite the hammering for the next few days with the sight of me darting to the bathroom becoming the norm, all the other guests sympathised but I must say it was a little bit embarrassing. Fortunately by the end of the week, I was on the mend and was able to start enjoying the amazing meals chef served up.  

Seasons welcomes you

Friday night I had dinner on the baraza overlooking the ocean, it was beautiful and yes it would have been incredibly romantic if I wasn’t flying solo. I retired to my room for a couple of hours before we headed to Waikiki or party central as I fondly refer to it. The East coast of Zanzibar is fairly sleepy so imagine the look on my face when we arrived at Waikiki, about a 15 – 20 minute drive away to find the place very much awake with tourists and locals alike dancing the night away with the beach for a dance floor. Buses offloaded party goers at fairly regular intervals, the atmosphere was electric. We left at around 3 am, you know, I didn’t want to overdo it on my first night.

The next day, we ventured to Stone Town, also known as Mji Mkongwe (Swahili for Old Town)  in a bid for me to start meeting the local tour operators, because it was a Saturday, we only managed to meet a few before they closed for the weekend.  We had lunch at the popular Café Miwa, where I overindulged before heading back for dinner (yes, I was on a roll now that I could eat again) with some very helpful hotel industry folk that I still feel indebted to.  I was supposed to leave Zanzibar for Dar es Salaam that weekend but the airline emailed my revised itinerary, if I hadn’t taken a closer look, I would have totally missed that my flight back to Uganda had been cancelled and I would be heading home a couple of days later than planned, yes they don’t do apologies or explanations I had gathered by now. Well, always a silver lining, this meant I spent a couple of extra days in Zanzibar and therefore got to cover more ground.

I eventually made it back to Dar es Salaam where I checked into a hotel in Kariakoo, it had been highly recommended by Chris, not letting him live that one down,  so I didn’t bother with the routine room inspection before going ahead to check in and pay for the first night, huge mistake. I soon realised I had checked into a clean but rather depressing  hotel surrounded by rubble with a building site for a view, not quite the rolling ocean vista I was accustomed to by now. I was only in Dar es Salaam for 2 nights and had very little desire to spend even one night at this hotel.  A friend from Dar es Salaam laughed when I called and told him I needed to find alternative accommodation, asked what I was thinking staying in Kariakoo, apparently it is great for getting to the Posta area and the centre of town but ideally not where one wants to stay. I checked out and headed to a hotel in Mikocheni B that another friend had recommended. I was not disappointed, for $50 a night, I had a very clean, airy, spacious, air conditioned room with the added bonus of free wifi, well, I am not sure if it is still considered a bonus, it is almost expected now that a hotel will provide this.

My time in Dar es Salaam flew by. I did the rounds cold calling as many tour operators as I could manage although I sassed that I probably needed to head to Arusha, Tanzania’s tourism hub at some stage. I reconnected with an old friend and found some interesting places to dine and hang out in the evening, I discovered a funky new bar, Samaki which is Swahili for fish, check it out if you are ever in Dar es Salaam.

 Yours truly with Chris and some of the amazing Seasons team

My trip was mostly  enjoyable and productive. I was reminded that my grasp of Swahili leaves a lot to be desired. I also know I want to go back to Tanzania some time soon, I fell in love with the mainland and Zanzibar all over again. I learned that while no frills airlines may sell value, they won’t always be value for money. I was also reminded that one of the reasons I love to travel is because I get to meet some pretty interesting folk. Oh, if you are looking for a quiet, unforgettable escape by the ocean, talk to me.

My love affair with great outdoors

It is Thursday night, I am extremely exhausted and looking forward to a long weekend. This is my favourite weekend of the year, Easter weekend. Apart from celebrating the resurrection of our Saviour, it is a four day weekend.

My thoughts drift to Easter last year and how I spent this. A group of friends decided we would go to the beautiful source of the Nile, Jinja. We opted to stay on a little island called Samuka, famed for its bird species. Some bright spark, suspect it was my good friend Alex , suggested that rather than book rooms, we would go camping. Took some convincing but I finally figured it couldn't be that bad, in fact it may be an exciting experience. See, this was to be my first camping experience.

We left Kampala on Saturday, the road trip was good fun, quite uneventful. We arrived in Jinja, one very short boat ride later, we were in Samuka. We were shown to our respective humble abodes. I was horror stricken when I saw my piddly "cat" tent, I didn't think they made them that small. The other tents were fine. Mine was the smallest because I wasn't sharing. Once I got over the shock, we got changed and went for a swim followed by drinks and dinner. I excused myself early because I had a slight cold and really needed my sleep.

I crawled into my little tent and remember feeling quite forlorn. I lay silent listening to the sounds of the great outdoors. Something we hadn't taken into account when we decided to go camping was the fact that it was the middle of the rainy season. I think you know where we are heading.

The wind had picked up and was howling something chronic. It wasn't long before I heard the sound of rather heavy raindrops hit the tent. Two of my party came to get me, figured we were better off having a nightcap. I wasn't about to argue so we headed back to the bar which was lovely, warm and dry. By now, it was raining very heavily. We eventually retired an hour or so later. The rain continued to pelt down.I crawled into my tent to find the interior was wet, I knew I was going to get a thorough soaking. I attempted to brave this but soon realised I would end up catching pneumonia. That wasn't the plan.

I left the tent lagging my wet belongings with me and headed back to bar informing tne night manager I was setting up home in the now cold and wet bar area. Poor chap took pity on the clearly miserable sorry mess standing before him and advised there was a double room that was unoccupied. This was music to my ears. It was past 3am, I was finally able to check in for a few hours. The room wss lovely and warm, had four solid walls and a nice warm bed, utter bliss.

The next day, Easter Sunday, we checked out. We headed to 2 Friends Guest House for lunch which was delicious despite the fact that I could barely stay awake for longer than a few minutes. See by now, I was fairly drugged up. I had woken up feeling very unwell, relief had come in form of meds.We headed back to Kampala, picked up our cars, I drove straight home to my then cozy little one bedroom apartment. It was raining heavily again. I called the one person that will always lend a sympathetic ear, mother dearest and proceeded to black out for more than ten hours. I felt a bit better come Easter Monday.

Whenever I go on holiday, I opt to stay at hotel, in a room, I like my little comforts. I absolutely love Uganda and what our outdoors has to offer but I am quite happy to shut the door on this come night time. I am not good with being at nature's mercy and I can safely say I will not be camping again anytime soon. The title of this piece is therefore very much tongue in cheek.

This Easter I'm staying put, a friend was thinking of taking his family camping in Jinja, party pooper that I am I pointed out that it is raining almost every night, let's just say I think I managed to put him off. Have a lovely Easter whatever you do folks.

http://instagram.com/p/m0v3QZQq7W/

Oh the Joys.....

English folk often use the phrase "oh the joys" in reference to something that is perhaps a bit of a pain in the back side, certainly not so joyous. I am sure you have had the term "oh the joys of parenthood" or variations of the same depending on which parent happens to be feeling somewhat hard done by.

One of my sisters and I were talking to our teenage brother this evening. Let's say he is experiencing some growing pains or even teenage angst. We therefore took it upon ourselves to try and talk him off this cliff that he seems so determined to remain precariously perched upon. Well, hopefully something went in and didn't go straight back out the other ear. Anyway took me back to our own childhood days and the madness we put the "Mzees" /parents through. Allow me to take you on a little trip down memory lane.

Looking back now, I will tell you, I was an easy child, I like to think my parents would say the same. I don't recall getting into any serious scrapes, well apart from the occasional one with my elder siblings. I also did not break any bones or have any unsightly scars to serve as constant reminders of my shenanigans. I do however recall Mzee, Dad in this case caning my sister and I till our back sides turned darker than I thought possible. Now let's not go getting our knickers in a twist, we came from a generation were our parents did not subscribe to "spare the rod and spoil the child", and this I am eternally grateful for, it shaped us into fine upstanding specimens if I do say so myself.

Back to the reason my usually non disciplinarian dad went all militant on his sweet little girls. Well we would have been about all of 9&10 years old at the most.We had a couple of little male friends in the neighbourhood, one of them dared to upset my rather quick tempered sister. My sister proceeded to give him a probably well deserved tongue lashing not realising it was his mother, we'll call her Mrs X on the other end of the line. By the time she caught on, the damage was done. Mrs X told my sister my parents would be brought up to speed on the little exchange, at which stage my sister panicked and turned to me for advice.

Well, me being the younger and apparently more street savvy one, came up with the grand plan for us to run away from home. Well, in my mind it made perfect sense. I mean there was no way we were going home to face the music, because we both knew they would be no dancing. So these little girls that were for the most part sheltered, started on a journey of sorts.

The day played out a little like this, we jumped from one taxi to another, telling fibs about our parents accidentally leaving us at Church. We were on a mission to find a relative and hide out until Mum and Dad begged us to come home. All I can say is the mind of a child is a wonderful place. Our journey took us across Kampala, from Rubaga to Kampala Road in the heart of town then on to Namasuba on Entebbe Road and back. We eventually figured we were better off heading home, the rest, well you know.

Looking back, I've got to say. Parents are amazing. We do really knowingly and sometimes unknowingly drag them to hell and back and yet still they continue to love, hope and worry amongst many emotions. I do not have children yet but I will one day experience the joys of motherhood, so help me God.It may well be what it takes for me to finally lose all my marbles. Important to note that this is purely fictional, because if it were a true story and I dared to share it, my sister might never talk to me again.

Celebration of Love

December is typically considered to be "party" season with all sorts of festivities taking place, new bars cropping up all over the city (Kampala) and an influx of Ugandans living in the diaspora returning to spend the holidays with their loved ones.

Many will also choose to say “I do” during this season. Typically, I will receive at least 3 wedding invitations and a number of invitations to traditional wedding ceremonies. I do try my very best to honor these invitations however there are only so many speeches and long wedding receptions one can sit through so I will occasionally choose not to go to one

having weighed up a number of points including how close I am to the bride/groom, venue and whether I will be able to have a glass of vino or two to

This December was no exception. I was invited to and actually attended 3 weddings. Wedding number one was a colleague’s. I did not make it to Church , the most important part of a wedding because here we witness the presumably happy couple exchange vows and promise to honor these till do them apart. I attended the reception at which I gave a speech on behalf of the bride’s employers. I of course said all good things about the bride and imparted words of wisdom seeing as I know quite a bit about marriage, ahem. The bride was stunning as one would expect and she seemed over the moon. After my colleagues and I collected the customary cake that is given to workmates, we left. We had eaten and saw no other reason to stay, the couple are born again so no chance of evening sniffing vino, beer or any other choice of poison.

Wedding number two, now this was something. A prominent Kampala businessman was finally making an “honest” woman of his partner of 12 years.  Let us just say, no expense was spared here. All the glitz, glamour and splendor that you could possibly imagine was laid on for this wedding. Once again, I did not attend the Church service, slaps self on wrist. I pitched up to the reception where preferred dress code was black and white, I wore pink, looked pretty hot I must say. Now this was no alcohol free wedding. It was a very hot day, before I proceeded to the huge elaborately decorated marquee, I was offered a drink and accepted a couple of sips of ice cold beer. Once seated inside the marquee, snacks were served, drinks of all sorts were flowing. Kampala’s notables were either already seated or in many cases milling around perhaps to ensure that the MCs spotted them , the expectation is that the MC would then mention/acknowledge them at some stage. The couple eventually pitched up or rather arrived in style. Their convoy comprised of no less than 10 (I kid you not) top of the range SUVs, mainly Mercedes Benz MLs. I caught myself whistling, how rude. There was no shortage of entertainment with a number of popular local artists performing. I left at around 11pm, I understand the party continued well into the next day.

Now the third, and most enjoyable wedding for me, the one that actually inspired me to write this. This was unusual in many ways. For a start, there were no invitation cards, we all got Facebook messages giving us details. A photo of a black and a white puppy were incorporated, the intention was not lost on me, the bride, a dear friend of mine is a “Muzungu”, her Prince Charming is an all round sports man from the West Nile. There was no church service, instead the couple exchanged vows they had penned at an outdoor venue that sits atop one of Kampala’s 7 hills. The view was amazing, the vows were short and we got to raise a glass of champers to the newlyweds straight after, perfect. Lunch was served indoors, 3 speeches were given by the groom, his bestman and the bride’s mother who also wrote and read a very witty poem.

Once speeches were done, food was finished and quite a bit of wine was consumed, we were given instructions to proceed to the after party venue, a beautiful, perhaps somewhat little known spot by the water less than a 10 minute drive away. I was asked by the bestman to ferry unconsumed alcohol as well as water to the after party venue, happily obliged for more reasons than one. The bride and groom joined us at the after party venue, they did not travel in a convoy, they did not have one. The rest of the day was about fun, frolics and guests getting to know each other. Games including the tag of war and sack race were laid on. In addition to the DJ, a group from the West Nile kept guests entertained. Just as we were starting to get peckish, muchomo was served. I left at around 11pm, seems to be my threshold, again celebrations carried on into the next day.

What struck me about this wedding was the focus on the bride, groom and their close friends and family. The guest list was somewhere between 100-150people. It gave us all a wonderful opportunity to really witness the couple’s joy and to have a sneak peek into their life together. We all walked away having made at least 2 new friends and to me this really felt like a celebration of love.
So whichever way you choose to do it, I think your big day should be very much about you and the love I do hope you share. How many you wish to celebrate with is of no consequence. It should be a day that should always conjure up fond memories shared with your loved ones.