Wandering Trader Marcello wandered into Kampala last week. He’s a fellow travel blogger
I saw he was in East Africa and made contact. We swapped e-mails about gorilla trekking in Uganda, what to do in Kampala, and the pros and cons of driving in Kampala. I’d said he could stay for a couple of nights. This seemed like a good idea until he told me his flight was arriving at 2 AM!
I fell asleep on the sofa and woke with a start at 6 AM to realise that he hadn’t called me from the airport for directions. Weird. Checked on the laptop and my first Twitter message of the day was from him saying (to the whole world) “your phone was off!!!”
I was secretly disappointed that Marcello didn’t come and stay with me – in a regular house – and experience what it’s like to live in Kampala these days: power on and off for 12 hours at a time every other day for weeks on end now.
My phone wasn’t off. It turns out someone had input the number incorrectly!
I located Marcello’s hotel and rocked up at 11 o’clock. The receptionist called him and he told me to go up to his room, not something I normally do on a first date (or do I?)
My friend Sheila was a bit disturbed when I’d told her that a random (male) stranger was coming to stay at my house. “It’s okay, he’s a blogger,” I mock reassured her.
Her words were in my thoughts as I knocked on Wandering Trader’s door. What would she think?
“Come in, it’s open,” I heard a man’s voice cry – and there he was, lying in bed.
“Come give me a hug!”
“Er… you’re all right,” I said.
He patted the end of the bed. “Sit down.”
I sat on the chair.
“Oh God you’re so English,” he said.
So what do you say to that one?
“Welcome to Kampala!”