The next morning we made our way on an overcrowded matatu to the overcrowded bus park to catch another overcrowded matatu to the not so crowded Entebbe. The journey was frightful as always, but being jammed in, with our knees around our ears and our backpacks on our laps we thankfully couldn't see the way the maniacal driver was driving, and were held relatively still despite his erratic movements. Obviously the lady behind me thought I had a little too much room, as she constantly pushed her bag into the space behind my legs under the seat. I got a little frustrated at this, and repeatedly pushed and later kicked her belongings back to her side with my heels. It wasn't until she got off I realised we'd been playing football with a couple of live chickens she had bagged with only their heads poking out. Had the RSPCA witnessed the event they surely would have had us both locked up, but to my surprise the chickens hadn't made a single sound, probably evidence to the fact that like most other animals in Africa they are usually treated far worse. It was commonplace to see chickens and goats strapped to the bullbar, roof or side of trucks, or even on the handlebars or back of a bicycle. Sometimes they got to travel inside the vehicle, like these chooks, but I don't think this was any better for them and if they had the choice they'd probably take the battery.

Entebbe was a spread out little town on lake Victoria, nothing overly impressive but a nice enough looking place given its green surrounds. I suppose that's why Kampala's elite often choose to undertake the half hour journey and reside in Entebbe, to escape the hustle and bustle of city life.

We spent a leisurely afternoon wandering round the botanical gardens, and lazing about watching the fisherman on Lake Victoria sort through their nets. It was good to relax knowing we had nothing to organise for a day or two. We hoped to see the black and white colobus monkey in the gardens, but as usual the place was simply overrun with black-faced vervet monkeys, entertaining but occasionally annoying. Rumour has it that vervets will only attack females if no males are present, and with Karen's monkey paranoia (I'm sure she watched outbreak too many times as a child) it led to an entertaining afternoon of threats to abandon her.

We had an evening tipple at the popular and interesting 4 turkeys bar. The walls adorned with a strange array of Iraq war cartoon propaganda, and a proudly displayed article from the local rag about how the bar had once become a haven for French soldiers stationed in Entebbe and a resultant swarm of prostitutes from all over. In days gone by you could walk in the bar and "smell the sweaty sex in the air" - sounds like a fantastic place for a drink, perhaps they should've advertised this out front.

The following morning we were up early to experience Uganda's finest airport, and make our way to Tanzania. Entebbe airport is most well known as the place where Palenstinian hijackers, supported by Ugandan troops under Idi Amin took hostage over 100 Israelis in 1976. The siege ended after a surprise raid by 200 Israeli troops (secretly flown from Israel) that killed the hijackers and a number of Ugandan soldiers and infuriated Idi Amin.

Our time in Uganda had been brief, but interesting and enjoyable. It had made quite an impression on us, and our fondness for the place had grown throughout our time there. The people had been amongst the friendliest we had come across, and perhaps only coincidentally was the place with the smallest language barrier. But our lasting impression would definitely have to have been the crap East African pop music belted out on every corner and in every hotel, café and vehicle we came across, usually accompanied by plenty of static crackling. Equally as terrible, the amateur video clips that accompanied them and made the acting on Home and Away look Oscar worthy. Those who know me know that I cant stand 50cent, Ja-Rule, Nelly or any of that s***e RnB/hip-hop stuff, but Id take it any day over the East African pop.