Landing at Entebbe

We see nothing of Africa until the plane drops through clouds ten or so minutes from landing. Then, green. It's green outside. 9 in the morning. Little low-roofed buildings. Through the plane window, I don't see a tarmac road, just red-dirt tracks cutting through the vegetation. And then we're touching down.

There's one runway and when you land the plane climbs up-hill to the taxi-way that takes you back to the airport building. Over the port wing, some kind of brown heron escorting us in.  

Can't help thinking suddenly of the Israeli raid here to recover the El Al hostages. Tales of daring-do. Netanyahu's brother copping it somewhere in the fire-fight. No justice. A hero dies. A total c**t still alive.

 It's a small airport once you get inside, past the woman soldier/policewoman in white shirt, black combat trousers and beret. She props up a stanchion on the tarmac and totes a sub-machine-gun. Then, into the shade of the building. Basically a couple of low-ceilinged halls and an area to queue as they check you through passport control.

We discover we need a visa. 50 Dollars US or 26,000 local. And we don't have a penny on us... :( 

So the customs guy keeps our passports, takes our photos on his little webcam - and we get fingerprinted. Four fingers and then the thumb separately on the right hand. Green light. And then the same on the left. And we're off to find a cashpoint. Once cashed up, we return, pay our dues and, redeeming our passports and luggage, go back to the arrivals hall whence we've just baptised in Africa our Visa card.

Then, amid a hundred signs held up, the taxi guy is waiting. Tiller. Cassia Lodge Hotel, Kampala.

We walk out to the minibus, the only two passengers for him today. He goes to pay the parking fee. We sit in the heat not speaking. He returns. Starts up the engine. We're on our way.