Larry, twenty points if you hit the Guinea Fowl. It would be tastier for dinner than what we had.

We drove Anat and Noam to their camp ground. It was late and dark.

En route, we had a similar run in with the Guinea Fowl that we did with the baboons on the way in. But the addition of darkness made it even more exciting. And more people in the car added to the sense of adventure. This time, there were plenty of others to hollar, Larry! Slow Down!! I got to call out “twenty points, thirty if you get the whole family.” From my vantage point in the back seat, I was almost certain we nailed one...but at the last minute, apparently, the bird did a dodge or a swerve and escaped from the clutches of the wheels of the 4x4.

We finally made it out of the 20-odd km of bumpy, rutted, back roads onto the main street. (Gravel not paved). We stopped in the first town for dinner. It was about 9 pm. Larry said there were two choices-the hotel restaurant in the wrong direction (more expensive to boot) or a local joint heading our way. Anything else? I asked. Probably, but I do not know where. Great, let's go with the sure thing and not spend our time running around. We all agreed. So off we went. It was basically a beer hall with a pool table out front. The menu was limited catering for a more Euro-American clientele hankering for post park nosh. Not so much dinner. They did have rice and a side of beans so I figured...how bad can it be? Bad. Really bad. This was the moment I should have said, time out...Larry said, are the beans a quick meal? And the waitress said, they are in a tin. We just need to heat them up.

Beans from a tin.

If you are thinking Campbell's canned beans, you are on the right track. But grosser.

After the waitress disappeared in to the kitchen, we heard the faint beeping of the microwave oven followed, 90 seconds later, by the tone announcing “your food is done.” And, since Larry and I both had ordered beans, we heard this twice...

When the “meal” came, I gave the beans a shot...and then, I promptly asked for pepper and hot sauce. The waitress said they had neither. Turns out, one of the bottles of red sauce on the table was medium sauce...after some language confusion we cleared up that indeed that was “hot sauce” of a mild spiciness. Still, no pepper. (A whole restaurant...no pepper) It was truly laughable. The meal was so outrageously disgusting...I really had to sit back and just giggle at the whole thing. Ray learned all about Africa's various fried finger foods like chipati and samosas. Larry had his favs...fries and beans. I ate a lot of hot sauce drowning the beans and rice. Larry, you are never again allowed to choose the restaurant. We all snickered a little. It was truly terrible.

We finally hit the road and headed back to Kampala. I was sad to see the wilderness, and beauty of the park go. The day had been hot and equatorial-lots and lots of sun, warm and wild animals. My eyes were numb from all the green and lush, all the people and faces, all the exploring and wandering. I contented rested for several hours as we drove on “home” in the night.