It was my first day back in Kampala after two weeks of beef-eating in Murchison Falls. H.M. was off working, buying electrical supplies or s...

“Are you coming?” yelled H.M. to the ranger from the rhino camp. “C’mon!” The ranger looked astonished, blinking his eyes at the DED Toyota ...

“I don’t care! I want a key and I want it now!” H.M. and I were blissfully sitting on the banks of the Nile, enjoying a Coke and a Nile Spec...

“What’s that?” I said, pointing to some straw and mud gunk on the side of our Murchison Falls home. “Hippo shit,” said H.M. firmly. “They fl...

The sound of wind at night is a kind-of alarm clock in Murchison Falls. H.M. and I both wake up as soon as a breeze starts gusting. Wind on ...

Sunday mornings are the quietest time at Paraa, the small ranger/tourist village at Murchison Falls National Park where I share H.M.’s home...

I've been in Murchison Falls National Park for a few days now, but getting here was, as always, a bit of an endeavor. On Saturday mornin...

At the end of the working day at Murchison Falls National Park, H.M. likes to come home and open up a Nile Special (local beer) and relax o...

It's Saturday and I am off to Murchison Falls and no Internet. Look for me to write mid-week from Masindi.

Like every good child of the television age, I knew one word of Swahili before I ever set foot in Africa. Uhuru. It means freedom. This migh...