journey into east africa: first leg of the adventure.

Hello peeps!

For years, I dreamed of exploring East Africa—the raw savannahs, the thrill of safaris, the endless horizons where elephants roam and lions prowl. So when the chance finally came, I packed my bags for a three-week adventure through Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania with my three travelling girlfriends, now known as “adopted siblings”: Tita, Ida, and As. It would be a journey of wildlife, culture, and discovery—three countries, three weeks, and countless stories waiting to be lived.

But before the safari trucks, before the Serengeti sunsets, before the meeting of the Maasai tribe, there was the road. And East Africa, as I quickly learned, doesn’t just hand over its beauty—you have to earn it.

nairobi: me, the girls & the fourth wheel (a.k.a. my luggage).

The adventure began in Nairobi, where my flight from Amsterdam Schiphol via Doha touched down. I was jet-lagged but buzzing with excitement. My friends—Tita, Ida, and As—were waiting, ready to give me my first taste of East Africa.

The plan was simple: store our luggage, roam Nairobi freely, and soak in the city before catching a bus to Uganda. Except Nairobi had other plans. Luggage storage? Nowhere to be found. After searching, asking around, and considering all options, we gave up. So our bag became a new member of our group. By the time we were striding through the city, I was convinced it deserved its own Instagram account.

Bag or no bag, Nairobi pulled me in. The streets throbbed with life: matatus painted like neon jukeboxes, blasting music loud enough to rattle the sidewalks; vendors grilling roasted maize whose smoky sweetness hung in the air; skyscrapers towering above bustling crowds; and boda bodas zipping through traffic like bees. It was chaos, but the kind of chaos that makes you feel alive.

Eventually, we found calm at Jamia Mosque, slipping off our shoes and stepping into its cool interior. For a brief moment, the noise of Nairobi faded, and peace filled the air. Even the bag, resting in a corner, seemed content.

It was a funny, chaotic, exhausting start—and it was only Day One of three weeks.

the bus ride: comedy, chaos & corruption.

Then came the real ordeal: the bus to Kampala. Twenty-two hours of road. It sounded long; it felt endless.

The first few hours passed easily enough—I had snacks, my friends, and optimism. But East African roads have a way of humbling you. Traffic turned highways into standstills. Potholes jolted the bus so violently it felt like a ride at a poorly maintained theme park roller coaster. Every bump forced us to readjust, searching for comfort that didn’t exist.

And then, the heat. The bus had no air-conditioning, only cracked windows that barely stirred the stifling air. We sat in the heavy warmth, sticky and drained, watching the hours crawl past.

At the Kenya–Uganda border, exhaustion gave way to drama. Immigration officers pulled us aside, declaring we had taken an “unusual route.” Suspense built quickly when they demanded a $20 fine. We looked at each other—tired, frustrated, but unwilling to cave. After tense negotiations, we cut the “fine” down to $10. A bribe disguised as bureaucracy. Not exactly the safari adventure I had envisioned—but a reminder that East Africa writes its own rules.

By the time the bus finally rolled into Kampala, the clock showed just after 2 p.m.—22 hours after we’d first boarded. I was half asleep, half delirious, and fully convinced I’d survived a rite of passage.

arrival in kampala: lunch, laughter & dogs at villa acacia.

First stop: dump the bags at the bus office. That moment of walking away from my suitcase felt like freedom itself.

Second stop: food. By then it was already 4 p.m.—a very late lunch that tasted more like revival than a meal.

Finally, we reached Villa Acacia, our overnight stop. After the furnace-like bus, the villa was an oasis: leafy gardens, quiet corners, and the kind of calm that melts travel fatigue. As if the scene wasn’t perfect enough, two playful dogs bounded up to us the moment we arrived, tails wagging, demanding scratches. They followed me around like old friends, instantly washing away the frustration of the journey.

For the first time since leaving Rotterdam, I felt like I could breathe.

safari dreams (still ahead).

The original plan was ambitious: push further north to Murchison Falls as soon as we arrived. But after 22 hours of heat, potholes, and border bribes, reality set in. We agreed—Murchison is out of our itinerary.

Instead, Kampala would be our stage. The city buzzed with its own energy—boda bodas darting through traffic, markets spilling over with colour, and music seeping into the streets. The safari dream was still ahead in the weeks to come, but here, in the middle of Uganda’s capital, a different kind of adventure was about to begin.

That night, lying on the bed at Villa Acacia with the dogs sleeping somewhere nearby, I laughed at it all. A suitcase with its own imaginary Instagram account, a border “fine” negotiated like a market bargain, potholes that redefined the laws of physics, and the simple joy of arriving in one piece. Exhausting? Yes. But unforgettable? Even more so.

Because sometimes, before the safari begins, the road itself becomes the wild.

But this was only Day One of my three-week journey across East Africa. Tomorrow, Kampala would unfold its secrets—crowded markets, chaotic boda rides, and stories waiting around every corner. The safari dream was still ahead, but first, Kampala was ready to test me in ways I never expected…

Talk to you soon on the next post.

Emir xx