Extraordinary. Unique. Unforgettable.

There is nothing more rewarding than seeing a dream fulfilled. One dream was to raft the Nile and after first casting my eyes across the river in 1986, I had promised myself I would return one day to raft it. A second dream was to build unique accommodation on a mid-river island and this came about 10-years later in 1996, when Adrift made the first ever descent of the Victoria Nile in Uganda (the rapid section between Lakes Victoria and Kyoga) and I was struck by the beauty of the mid-river islands in the Nile. This would give visitors a chance to see the many bird species who call the islands home, to encounter river otters and monitor lizards up close and to experience the power and majesty of the young River Nile.

Particularly those islands protected by huge rapids remained pristine, untouched and havens of bio-diversity. In the 13-years, we have now been running the Nile, we have seen a human population explosion and a devastating de-forestation of the riverbanks and islands along the sections of river we raft. Adrift started actively purchasing kabanja (squatters) rights to the islands early this century and part of a millenium goal to protect them. At the heart of this conservation initiative is Wildwaters Lodge, an eco-lodge that will help protect these islands by creating direct benefits for the adjacent community.

Brad McLeay has taken on the challenge of building the lodge and is doing the most incredible job along with our construction team. The logistics of building on an island in the middle of Kalagala Falls we underestimated. Before we could even begin construction seriously, we have built over 500 metres of raised wooden walkways through the forest just to enable us to get the building supplies to site. All the furniture is a unique design Brad has created incorporating materials from the island and even the wash basins are being carved from pink granite recovered from the island. We already have bookings for May of this year when we open and hope to see there soon.

It had rained very heavily the afternoon before and we had erected our tent in the rain, slightly anxious that the downpour might not stop before dark. Bare topped and soon drenched the skin, we used several towels to mop the inside of the tent. The thunderstorms had performed their wild dance across the hills of the Congo and had cleared the air. In the soft light of a new day, the ‘Snows of the Nile’ peeked very briefly from huge thunderheads that still threatened and in the foreground the Kazinga channel glistened, a silver ribbon between Lakes George and Edward. Hippos snorted noisily from Lake Chibwera several hundred metres away and looking directly into the new sunrise, thousands of pink flamingos danced across Lake Nsenyi.

I could not think of a more enchanting site for a tented camp. Brad and I wandered along the ridge marking sites for the new Adrift tented camp, ecstatic at the possibilities. Adrift have signed a concession agreement with Uganda Wildlife Authority to build a permanent tented camp on a ridge between two stunning crater lakes and we were working on the site plan. We commented on a dozen or so Uganda Kob grazing nonchalantly at the base of the hill not more than one hundred metres from where we stood. As I pressed the screen to mark the waypoint on my GPS, a shrill alarm whistle erupted from the grazing kobs and they scattered, running away from us. I spilt some coffee and looked up to notice one of the kobs was entrapped by what I initially thought to be a poachers snare. It had been widely discussed that our planned presence at Lake Chibwera would reduce small-time ‘bush-meat’ poaching.

Brad and I both looked in astonishment, sympathising with the kob’s predicament and wondering what on earth had ‘snared’ the kob. A substantial flash of white underbelly and Brad said ‘…it’s a python’. I spilt the rest of my coffee, ran along the ridge line to get Arch and Bay and witness one of Africa’s most remarkable hunters finish the job. There was no way the big snake was letting go despite the powerful kicks of both rear legs, and the kob bleated for no more than ninety seconds before she was asphyxiated to death.

The python had struck from a small clump of long grass, probably tempted from the swamps of Lake Nsyeni by the wet grass and moist conditions. The initial strike had given the giant Central African Rock Python, a firm grip of both rear legs of the kob (they usually go for the head or neck). Renown for their vicious attacks, this fortunately keeps them in little demand for the western pet trade but makes them a significant predator of the kob, Uganda’s most prolific medium-sized antelope. We estimate that the mighty serpent weighed over 100kgs and measured about 3.5 metres in length (unconfirmed reports suggest they may get as large as 7.5 metres in length!). While I may not see this again for some time, the remotest possibility of witnessing another python attack are a huge incentive to go back to our Chibwera site and begin work on that tented camp. We hope to have most of the camp completed by the end of this year so the occupants of tent no.7 can sip chilled gin and tonic in comfort while they wait for a repeat performance.

‘I am not sure I can get up there?’ Josh called from below. ‘Lets try without your pack’ I had returned. We had just spent two nights high on Mt. Kaddam in Southern Karamoja looking for a route to the summit. We were due to lead a commercial trip to the summit for ‘Focus Humanitarian Aid’ over New Year and the only local guides who knew their way to the summit were now too advanced in the years to climb themselves. Dozens of ‘Kaddama’ climb the mountain every day to harvest ‘mirrar’ (a leaf widely chewed fresh throughout the East Africa trucking community for it’s stimulants). However, the challenge for us was that the mirrar forests grow only about 1/3 of the way up the mountain and all of our ‘guides’ had never been further than this. It was very unclear to us when we employed Dominic a few days before that he did not know his way to the summit. We had been oblivious to a simple rule that later became more obvious, to get most sense for a mirrar harvester, it is best you talk to him early in the day before he starts chewing the drug.

The ‘mzee’ (respected elder) had sketched out a route in the sand, he had explained the route in the local language and it was clear from Dominic’s gestures that he understood. However, two days later Dominic was looking tired, scared and increasingly unsure of himself. ‘You will get blown off…the lightening will strike you….there are things up there that are not good’ and so went on a string of verbal warnings against our reaching the summit of the mountain. We continued on……read more about our journey on the ‘Mountain of Mirrar’ next month as we attempt to summit despite the warnings of our guides and the chorus of calls from the Colobus monkey populations.

Josh is back for his third visit to Uganda and despite the recent challenges of ascents on Mt. Elgon (4310m) and Mt. Kaddam (3068m) the river operations are running smoother than ever. Over our 13-years of operation in Uganda, we have built the capacity of our Ugandan crew and most of our river guides and ALL of our safety kayakers are now Ugandan. They have seen dozens of visiting international guides over the years but there are few who demand more respect that Josh. He understands our crew well, works with them smoothly and is able to deal with the team easily on a day-to-day basis. Welcome back Josh.

Despite his great company in the mountains, Josh is most at home on the river. He doesn’t like wearing much more than a pair of board shorts, a lifejacket and some sunscreen and this is not the ideal clothing for the mountains. Josh particularly enjoyed his share of the drinking chocolate (in fact probably our share as well) but was disappointed at the lack of Heinz ketchup on the trips. He can be sure that the Riverbase and on all the two day trips he runs, there is more than enough Heinz to accompany all of his meals. You can be sure that the safety and quality of the Adrift rafting trips on the river are as good or perhaps even better than they ever have been.

The possibilities were always going to be fantastic. I knew from the Adrift rafting experience that we had run the river for years without exploring every channel of it – some we still have not explored. In most sections of the Nile in Uganda, the river is divided into multiple channels, solid mounds of pink granite and black ‘steel’ rock form very permanent islands and the river very slowly carves away at the African continent. These islands, over thousands of years, have become heavily covered in vegetation. Giant fig trees wrap their roots around the rocks and penetrate the cracks between them, ferns nestle amongst these, towering musisi are a favourite of the fruit bats and vines heavily drape over almost every island. Which channel to choose, where to go; what is going to give us the best ride?

I was anxious to make the first jet-boat operation on the Nile work. The boats were invented in our home country, New Zealand. In our South Island, many rivers are shallow and braided and impassable by conventional propeller-powered boat. The jet unit inhales water from the beneath the boat, compresses it and shoots about 20 litres per second from the stern of the boat. Not only does this jet propel the boat forward at speeds up to 90 kilometres per hour, but it provides a means of steering the boat. At these speeds the rapids do not need to be very big and we leave the largest rapids on the Nile to the rafts and kayaks.

Because the jet boat moves at speeds much faster than the river, we can race up and down the rapids and at times the entire boat leaves the water. We have now found some of the most exciting and interesting runs I could ever have imagined, racing between the rock islands in the river, bouncing up swift flowing currents and drifting in shallow pools marvelling at the magnificence of the Nile. One of the most exciting aspects of the jet-boat ride is the ‘buzz’ where we can race, at full speed, against the shore or a mid-stream rock and ‘buzz’ the rock with the bow of the boat at the last minute. This is the time for the camera, as the expressions on the faces of the participants at this time is always one of sheer exaltation and surprise. Brace yourself for the screams.

What makes Wild Nile Jet experience on the Nile so exciting is that it is an experience for everyone and some of our loyal supporters are no more than three years old. Up until a year ago, options for the very young or older were limited to our family rafting trips. These are incredible trips but the Wild Nile Jet ride is only 30 minutes long. For those short on time, there can be no more exciting way to visit the Victorian source of the Nile.

Henry began his career with Adrift by carrying rafts to and from the river after being introduced to Adrift by a friend. He learnt to swim in the sandy ponds near his village and it is for this reason, he believes, he was selected to train as a safety kayaker. He paddles each rapid ahead of the rafts and his primary job is to collect swimmers from the rafts at the base of the large rapids, to comfort them and help them back to their rafts.

‘I love working with Adrift’ largely because he gets to meet so many interesting and different people from all walks of life. He is especially interested in the teambuilding programmes where he can meet Ugandans from the city. They have very different jobs and responsibilities to his own. Adrift has taught him First Aid and CPR as part of his training and introduced him to competing in triathlons, which he now really enjoys.

Henry’s Aunt introduced him to his 19-year old wife with whom he now has a young daughter. His wife cost him ‘dowry and bride price which included a cow’ but he thoroughly enjoys his marriage and spends much of his free time teaching his young daughter to walk and bottle feeding her. When he is not with his family, he enjoys playing football and supporting Arsenal.

One of Henry’s worst experiences was swimming from his kayak in the ‘G-spot’ while learning to paddle. He rates this alongside the sad news surrounding construction of the Bujagali dam. However, he now realizes that while the Bujagali Dam will drown some of the rapids on the river forever, it will not be the end of whitewater rafting. He is very excited about Adrift’s plans to re-locate to Kalagala and to establish that area as the centre for tourism on the Nile.

One of the high points of Henry’s life was to be able to buy a plot of land for his family near Bujagali Falls and to be able to afford his introduction ceremony and his wife. He hopes to open a small kiosk for his wife to sell airtime cards and ‘bogoyas’ (sweet bananas) so she may be able to earn a living for herself.

The trouble started when the Kabaka (traditional King of Buganda) planned a visit to the town of Kayunga (about an 1.1/2 hours). A self-styled clan leader (from the Buganda people) stood up in Kayunga and said that the Kabaka must ask permission from him to visit the town. At this point President Museveni’s government sensed trouble and stepped in preventing the Kabaka from travelling.

Tens of thousands of young men rise from uncomfortable nights on dirt floors in the capital, pull on trousers and shirts (probably the same ones they wore the night before) and wander aimlessly into old Kampala. Most have not had breakfast, have migrated from rural areas with a poor education and are jobless. Some find work as ‘turn-boys’ on the ‘matatus’ (mini-buses), some ride ‘boda-bodas’ (passenger carrying bicycles) and others trade commodities in the markets. However, most have nothing to do and what is worse, they are very unlikely to find anything to do.

Given any excuse, they will vent their frustrations in noisy protests that can results in riots and wholesale looting. This is what happened when the Kabaka was prevented from travelling to Kayunga. While President Museveni (and other successful African leaders) have managed to keep tribalism from politics, this stand against the Buganda king was a catalyst for trouble. The security forces were caught off-guard and soon there was wholesale looting, burning of vehicles and stores. Unemployed young men smashed windows, helped themselves to others property and saw it as an opportunity to make some money – they know of no other means that is as easy.

The problem was accentuated by hordes of people who flocked to see the riots, crowded into first floor balcony’s and witnessed the shambles at street level from what they thought was a safe position. Most of the killings were from security forces firing in the air in panic and hitting those in high buildings.

Hordes of uneducated, unemployed young men will continue to be a major challenge for sub-Saharan Africa. However, the good news for Uganda is that the security forces came down hard and made it clear this sort of behaviour would not be tolerated. A few days ago, the Kabaka and a delegation of powerful representatives from his kingdom meet the President at State House for the first time in 4-years. The catalyst to the problem is being addressed, and there is every indication that things will not be allowed to deteriorate to this level again.

‘Hold on’ the guide said. But you probably didn’t hear him anyway! You were already underwater and headed west on your own private adventure run. Ever wondered what the clothes felt like in your washing machine? Now’s your chance to imitate your favourite pair of jeans as your world becomes white, your legs are thrown ungracefully over your head, your paddle is ripped from your hand and you feel like your lungs will burst. Which way is up? It probably won’t matter because you can’t swim there anyway. Make like a ball, hug your knees to your chest and wait for your PFD (personal floatation device) to pop you to the surface. Gasping for breath you are there within only a few seconds. Didn’t it seem like a full wash cycle? The worst of the rapid is over, you bounce through series of playful waves, thrust one arm in the air and all you can manage, all those years of tertiary education can produce is ‘YEAH!’.

A few months ago Adrift introduced Extreme rafting to the Nile. Our new 4.12 metre rafts are the smallest on Nile and recommended only for adrenaline junkies. For those needing to flip or who fancy the idea of being washed from the raft with only a moment’s notice and want the ride of their lives then these are the boats.

Rafting on the source of the Nile is probably the most the most exciting one day rafting trip on the planet and so any option to increase the excitement is not for the faint-hearted. The rafts hold a maximum of 7-paddlers including the guide and our they take it upon themselves to deliver an unforgettable day. The reactions from guides and clients alike to the new ‘sportscars’ of the Nile is nothing short of ecstatic!

When Adrift introduced commercial rafting to the source of the Nile and Uganda in 1996, the river carried volumes far greater levels we have experienced recently. We regularly saw flows in the 1200 to 1500 cumec (cubic metre per second range), however, flows over the last month have mostly sat the 700-800 cumec range. This makes the river runs slower, the rapids a little less powerful and smaller. We would have never considered running the smaller rafts in the early days but now they are an exciting new challenge for anyone wanting to push the envelope just that bit further

In an exciting initiative driven by Adrift, dozens of mid-river islands at the Victorian source of the Nile will be protected for future generations to enjoy. Since Adrift introduced commercial rafting to Uganda in 1996, the company has witnessed accelerated degradation of the river banks and islands along the Nile between lakes Victoria and Kyoga. Despite statutory protection through NEMA (National Environmental Management Association) steep river banks have been completely degraded with virgin tropical forest replaced by maize and cassava. In many cases, the land adjacent to the river is so steep that topsoil has been washed away in the rains after only one or two seasons and the dramatically degraded soils are left to support whatever they can.

The innovative Wildwaters Reserve project has already led to thousands of indigenous musisi, mvule and ficus trees replanted on the islands. Local farmers, who previously cut giant hardwood trees for charcoal and cultivated food crops on the islands, have been compensated in cash for the loss of their land and given alternative land on the mainland in lieu of the land they used to cultivate on the islands. In addition to the short-term benefits outlined, the project will ensure that the local communities benefit directly from the conservation project on a long-term basis. At the heart of the project, eco-friendly tourist accommodation will focus on training and employing staff from the adjacent communities. Volunteer groups will continue to support community projects and cultural centres built on either side of the river will help empower the families in these rural areas to benefit directly from increasing visitor numbers to the area.

A ‘green levy’ to be introduced for river users will help to support Wildwaters Reserve financially and ensure that those benefiting from the incredible scenery on the Victoria source of the Nile contribute directly to it’s preservation. The Nile continues to thunder amidst the heavily forested islands that mark some of the largest commercially rafted rapids in the world. Wildwaters Reserve will ensure that where the mist of the Nile now drifts over severely eroded rocks, the stumps of giant hardwood trees and sick looking maize, once again indigenous forest will take hold and provide a refuge for the incredible avian fauna for which the Nile is famous.

Rafting trips have become a popular way to draw tourists to Uganda. Photo by Vanessa Vick for The New York Times

Article published in the New York Times
Link to the original article

By JEFFREY GETTLEMAN
Published: May 24, 2009

WHEN I showed up to go white-water rafting in Uganda, Josh, the Canadian rafting guide who stood barefoot in board shorts and looked like a hardier, hairier version of Brad Pitt, greeted me with a simple question: Wild or mild?

My advice, if you’re ever going to do this, is to choose wisely. Because the next thing I knew, I was upside down in an infuriated patch of the Nile River, a ceiling of white water above me, all those tranquil birds and flowers along the banks a violently disappeared memory and Josh screaming, “Dude! Watch out for the rocks!”

And that was just Round 1. During my two-day trip this winter, our rubber raft flipped countless times. We went flying off waterfalls. We got twisted around rocks. The whole experience was like riding a bouncy castle through a tsunami. In some places, the water seemed to defy the laws of physics, with giant, green frothy waves crashing into one another at impossible angles. The scariest rapid was aptly called the Bad Place.

The Bad Place. It, indeed, was pretty bad.

But the Nile, that historic source of life gushing 4,000 miles across Africa to the Mediterranean Sea, was exceedingly beautiful — all we could see along the banks were miles and miles of pristine woodland, no garbage, no development, no fences, just cormorants and monkeys and the occasional crocodile lounging in the sun. The water was warm and clean, perfect for getting dunked into. The guides, who were a mix of expats and Ugandans, were funny, skilled and safe.

Uganda is a wonderful place to experience Africa — and rafting is just a piece of it. You can trek deep into Bwindi Impenetrable National Park and stand eye to eye with a 500-pound critically endangered mountain gorilla. You can scale mountain peaks in the Rwenzoris (also known as the Mountains of the Moon) and see wild elephants at Queen Elizabeth National Park. You can bungee jump, jet boat and kayak. And when you’re done and ready to relax, you can head to the capital, Kampala, to feast on Indian food at boutique hotels and watch enormous marabou storks fly lazy circles in the air, like feathered B-52s, right in the center of town.

Winston Churchill called this green little country “the pearl of Africa,” and it remains a hidden gem. True, Uganda does not offer all the tourist bells and whistles of Kenya next door, like $1,500-a-night tented camps and beach vacations on the Indian Ocean. But Uganda also doesn’t have the baggage. There’s less crime here than in Kenya. There aren’t the tourist crowds. It’s cheaper. And perhaps most importantly, there is a different vibe — Ugandans tend to be a little more laid-back, a little less deferential. It’s a place where your driver will look you in the eye instead of avoiding your glance and smothering you with obsequious yes-sirs, no-sirs and fake laughs.

THIS makes sense. While Kenya was a full-fledged British colony that became a tropical playground for aristocrats to guzzle gin, shoot lions and cheat on their wives, Uganda was a protectorate. That meant it was spared the masses of white settlers, and today it has less of that onerous stamp of colonialism than say, Kenya or Congo, places where, even decades after white rule was dismantled, there is still a discomfiting gap between the races.

Of course, Uganda has had its own sordid history, and a lot of people will associate it with Idi Amin, the country’s hulking dictator in the 1970s who beat political enemies to death with a hammer and plunged this country into years of bloodshed and terror. But those days are not even a speck in the rearview mirror. Uganda has righted itself and driven out various rebel groups, including the notoriously brutal Lord’s Resistance Army.

Today, it is one of the safest, more stable nations in this patch of Africa. For example, when my colleague Vanessa and I began our rafting trip, we landed at 9 p.m. at Entebbe airport, the main airport in the country. We had to get to Jinja, a midsize town on the Nile River and the hub of Uganda’s booming rafting business. We drove two and a half hours through the countryside, through inky blackness. And guess what? We were fine. We spent the night at the Jinja Nile Resort, a serene hotel perched on bluffs overlooking the Nile, and the next morning, the fun began.

“Listen up, folks!” boomed Josh, the rafting guide, whose blond locks dangled from under a beat-up construction-site hardhat. “No shoes, no flip-flops, no necklaces, no nothing. If you don’t want to lose it, don’t bring it. If we flip over — and you will flip over — hold on to the raft. Now, who wants to go wild?”

Without thinking, everybody in our 60-person group, who were mostly 20-something students and backpackers from England and the United States, cheered out “wild!” — the more aggressive course. If you want to go mild, which, by the end of the trip, many frazzled rafters had switched to, you float down the same stretch of river, just with your guide steering clear, or trying to, of the most intense rapids. Rapids are rated by numbers, 1 through 6. When I asked Josh to break it down for me, he said: “One is basically flat water, like a swimming pool.” Two and 3 can be bouncy, 4 and 5 pretty tough. And 6? “Death likely.”

To make sure that didn’t happen, Josh put us through the paces, teaching us how to stroke, how to hold on and how to get back in the raft if we got tossed out, which actually took a lot of strength and always ended in a thoroughly undignified wiggle.

Our first test was Big Brother. I never got a good answer as to who had named Uganda’s rapids, but the names were impressive, like Hair of the Dog, Vengeance, 50-50 and, of course, my favorite, the Bad Place. Most were Class 3 and 4. Big Brother was essentially a waterfall, and we pulled hard on our paddles and then let the falls suck us in. The awesome power of the Nile surged beneath my feet. The roar was deafening. I remember right before we hit the falls, looking up and seeing some paper-white egrets cruising in the sky, totally oblivious to the terror we were about to experience. “Everybody get down!” Josh yelled.

The raft smacked into a torrent of white water, and in milliseconds, our bouncy castle was swamped. The river was actually swirling inside the raft, trying to yank us out. I clenched the safety rope along the edge with all my strength. My heart was pounding. My grip was slipping. This lasted for all of about three seconds. And then, poof! It was over, and we were floating through flat water again.

Aw, that wasn’t so bad, I was thinking. I even slapped someone a high five. But then I looked down at my left hand. Um, wait a sec. Where’s my wedding ring? The one my grandfather made and wore at his wedding? The one thing my wife would kill me for losing? Gone. At the bottom of the Nile. Gulped down by Big Brother. A cherished family heirloom reduced to 18-carat fish food. Crestfallen, I asked Josh if such a tragedy had ever struck a rafter before. “Happens all the time,” he said. “Did I forget to mention that at the beginning?”

Thanks, dude.

Eventually, I got over my loss and was able, once again, to enjoy the white water and the scenery. Most of the river is actually placid, sometimes a mile wide and calm as a Wisconsin lake. I could see thatched huts in the distance with smoke lifting off their pointy roofs. And walls of leafy green banana trees. And huge monitor lizards slithering across rocks. When we got hot, we just jumped in the Nile and floated on our backs, searching the sky for that perfect cloud, toes pointed north, toward Egypt.

The guides were careful about the crocs — which, yes, do bite, and in the few known crocodile hang-out spots, we weren’t allowed in the water. Every once in a while we’d pass fishermen paddling along in log canoes. Some didn’t bother with clothes. Lily, an M.I.T. grad on my boat who recently lost her finance job, was inspired. She suddenly jumped up, peeled off her bikini, snapped her lifejacket back on and resumed paddling. ”Uh, excuse me,” asked one of the young Brits on the raft, with a look of genuine shock on her face. “But why exactly are you rafting naked?” “The question is,” Lily shot back, “why aren’t you?”

I didn’t have time to settle this before we hit 50-50, one of the nastier rapids, where two forks of the river collide and drop like a precarious set of stairs. The Bad Place, a thundering, angry vortex that looked as though it was powered by a jet engine just under the surface, was right next door, but the water was too low and therefore too dangerous for us to run it. We learned that 50-50 was scary enough. “On this one, if you fall out,” Josh screamed, cupping his hands over the rising din, “don’t even bother try holding on!”

We plunged. The curl of a wave lifted our boat straight out of the water and flipped us upside down like an egg in a skillet. But instead of immediately popping back up, a bunch of us got trapped under the raft, with the rapids pushing it down on top of us. It was terrifying, because there was no way out. I kicked. I thrashed. I felt as though I swallowed a gallon of river water. I started thinking of that scene at the end of “Titanic” in which Leonardo DiCaprio drowns. And then, pop, the raft shot away, and I broke through a fury of white water and feverishly gulped for air. That’s when I noticed everything was a little fuzzy, which leads me to casualty No. 2, my right contact lens. Gone. I spent the rest of the trip squinting through one eye.

That night we licked our wounds and drank cold beer at a campsite on a bluff above the river. The guides made us dinner — rice, salad and a chicken stew with peanut sauce, all served family-style out of big, dented pots. I polished off several plates and then slept like a baby in my tent.

The next morning, we switched guides. Geoffrey was our new master. Geoffrey was the picture of Ugandan chillness, sitting quietly at the back of the raft in a Spiderman visor. He was also a physical specimen: broad-shouldered, slim-waisted, strong as a linebacker, fatless, with every muscle jumping out of his arms when he stroked. I wasn’t sure whether to believe him when he said he was 48. He could have easily passed for 28. Maybe even 18.

We flipped several times on the second day, but most of us were more comfortable now, and to be honest, we were getting hooked on the adrenaline rush. The last rapid of the day was the aptly named Malaloo, which means crazy in Luganda, one of Uganda’s main languages, and again, it was some freak of physics. It was basically a roaring rapid on one side of the river, with the other side flat water, so you could run the rapid, bounce over the white water and then claw across the river and paddle back up and do it again. And again. And again.

WE did this at least 10 times, with Geoffrey effortlessly steering the raft into the rapid’s sweet spot, where we just stayed, miraculously suspended in the middle of the Nile, getting battered by thrashing water for a minute straight, not really moving. We tried it on boogie boards, too, and I jumped in on my belly and pointed myself upstream and found that precise spot where a torrent held me transfixed in a stream of white water, like surfing a never-ending wave.

It was the perfect way to end the trip. We climbed back on the bus, exhausted, sunburned, shoulders sore and feet raw. The engine sputtered to a start. I looked around at the other contented faces of the group and felt that we all had been through something together. I squinted through my one good eye and tried to forget about my newly vacant ring finger. I watched the Nile slide away behind us, smooth, green and inviting as ever.

IN THE WATER AND OUT OF IT

GETTING THERE AND AROUND

Most flights to East Africa, including Uganda, involve connections and flight changes. A round-trip ticket from Newark to Entebbe on Continental and KLM, for example, starts at $1,432, according to a recent online search. A trip from Kennedy Airport with American and British Airways, via London, starts at $2,580.

After you land in Entebbe, Uganda’s main airport just outside the capital, Kampala, it’s a smooth two-and-a-half-hour drive to Jinja, the rafting base on the banks of the Nile. Adrift, the rafting company, can pick you up for an extra $75, or you can hire your own car for a little more. We used a driver named Mathias Bukenya (256-772-361-281), who charges $100 for the trip and has a fleet of taxis that can be hired to travel around Uganda.

WHEN TO GO

The ideal time to go rafting is in January and February or June through September, Uganda’s dry season, when the sun is strong and the skies are clear. But since Jinja is essentially right on the equator, it’s balmy year round, typically 80s during the day, 70s at night. Adrift runs the river throughout the year, with May through August the busiest season, because of summer vacations.

HOTELS AND WHITE WATER

In Jinja, we stayed at the Jinja Nile Resort, (256) 434-122-190; www.madahotels.com. The hotel has a nice pool and spectacular views of the river gorge, complete with monkeys frolicking in the trees. The hotel is not included in Adrift’s rafting package. Single rooms, with river view, cost 125 euros, or $174 at $1.39 to the euro; doubles, 155 euros. Rooms away from the river are 110 euros for singles, 140 euros for doubles.

You can also stay at Adrift’s noisy but spirited campsite, with dorm beds at $10 a person (Adrift rates are given in dollars), double tents for $40 total, and wooden chalets (again, for two people) at $50 a night.

The rafting itself is quite affordable, which is why Adrift (256-772-237-438; www.adrift.ug), which started in 1996 and claims to be Uganda’s first rafting company, is a backpackers’ magnet. The charges are $115 per person for half day; $125 for full day; $250 for a two-day trip; $335 for a three-day trip (both including food and lodging). The river guides serve up tasty food and cold Nile Special beer. During my two-day trip, we ate loads of fresh fruit, salads, lunch meat and chicken stew. The beer, soda and bottled water were included. The campsite where we spent the night was a scenic bluff above the river, with different-size tents and some dorm rooms, with showers and toilets.

OTHER ATTRACTIONS

Rafting is just the beginning of Uganda’s charms. If you want more adventure, Adrift can take you bungee jumping and jet boating.

Farther afield, you can see enormous mountain gorillas with heads the size of engine blocks at Bwindi Impenetrable National Park, www.bwindiforestnationalpark.com. Or go chimp trekking in Kibale National Park, a lush, tropical jungle where you can search out man’s closest living relative. See www.safari-uganda.com/uganda/kibale.php. Queen Elizabeth National Park, www.queenelizabethnationalpark.com, is a bird watchers’ paradise, said to have more than 600 species. It’s also teeming with bigger game (elephants, leopards and lions, to name a few), and you can take a boat ride on the Kazinga Channel, threading through water thick with hippos.

It’s not as if Uganda is cut off from the rest of Africa. There are several flights a day between Entebbe and Nairobi, Kenya’s capital. Round trips on Kenya Airways start at about $352 in June, according to a recent online search. This makes it easy to add Uganda to a longer East African jaunt, which could include the Masai Mara game park in Kenya or climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, in Tanzania.

JEFFREY GETTLEMAN is the correspondent for East Africa for The Times.