Journey...

My friends, I'm sure you will be as happy (and doubtless as interested) as I am to learn that I am back in Sudan. In Malakal as it happens, which, if you've been paying attention, you will recall was where I cam way back at the start of my adventure to learn a bit of Arabic. This time, the focus of my trip was somewhat different, although my grasp of the Arabic language hasn't changed too much!

I travelled here from Nairobi via Juba, Southern Sudan's capital city. Juba is to Sudan what Edinburgh is to the UK, to give you an idea of it's importance. I was glad to get the chance to see the city, or at least part of it. And was particularly thankful for a hassle-free encounter with immigration officials (I'd heard stories of untold hardship and inconvenience).

I was travelling on my own, so I found myself a room at the guesthouse of the Episcopal Church of Sudan:

Situated right next to the cathedral (it smelled of bats inside):



Perhaps you are among the many people to whom I have quoted the statistic that Juba is the 2nd most expensive city in the world. I'd love to be able to confirm that to you now but my (admittedly limited) research has failed to uncover a single shred of evidence that this is in fact the case. Prices seemed to me to be comparable with Britain.

I did have an interesting experience that night in Juba after I met up with some SIM friends who happened to be stuck in town for dinner at a very nice Ethiopian joint. After dinner, they said they were going to take a Matatu (local small minibus) home and so I walked with them out to the main road. Low and behold, we hadnt been at the main road 5 seconds when one came a long and they jumped on and were gone, leaving me standing in the dark in the middle of an unkown city...That was when I realised that I didnt actually know where my guesthouse was.

I was standing there in a state of mild unease (which may have been tending towards panic), randomly waving my arms at passing cars and generally wondering what to do when a motorbike (another form of public transport) drove past. "Hey you" I shouted in my best Arabic. The guy stopped and I asked him if he knew where the ECS Guesthouse was. He didn't. "OK, just go this way" I said, pointing in the general direction that I'd come from.

I was riding on the blind hope that I'd see a half fallen over road sign that had caught my eye on the way to the restaurant. And do you know what, I did see it, and was able to find my way back to the guesthouse from there. It was only after I got back that I realised how much worse that story could have turned out...

Anwyay, I subsequently made it safely to Malakal and was reaquainted with old friends in a familiar town. I then spent most of Friday getting myself a Sudanese driving licence. This was a long but generally smooth process that involved going to the hospital for an eye test that consisted of a guy saying "can you see?". "Yes". "Ok, here you go", before signing my form.

And now, driving licence in hand, I plan to drive back to Doro tomorrow, in a nice Toyota Hi-lux that has been purchased by some of my colleagues there. It should be a fun journey, what with the rainy season and muddy roads. I wonder who'll come and help if we get stuck....