Alex Carter, 25th February 2012.
Alex has been in Mbale since Wednesday as he too has had computer problems (spot the recurring theme!) so came here to try to sort internet access out.
Today we've just ventured up to the poshest hotel in Mbale for a bit of R&R and to watch the rugby.
(I'm writing this dangling my legs in the pool in 30+ degree heat!)
After some very confusing conversations earlier in the week, (Rugby? What is a rugby? Ah, I see, a game? You mean football, yes? Argh! No! ), the hotel agreed to put the game on. So the plan is to chill out by the pool for the day, maybe go for a massage, change into my Welsh top, kick back with a few beers and mock Alex incessantly when England lose.
Massages here only costs 20,000 shillings for an hour's all over body massage which is less than six quid!
And when I say all over body massage, I've been warned that unless you tell them where not to go, it really will be an ALL over body massage!
So when me and Alex were talking about whether we were going to have massages today or tomorrow, I felt it my duty to warn him... And have never seen his eyes sparkle or his smile so wide!
"Really? Are you serious ... That could be interesting. So when do you think you tell them to stop? How much money have you got?"
Since writing the above, I've just had my massage ...
Oh my, oh my, oh my ... What an experience!
To start, the masseuse tells me to "take it all off"!
Er, no thanks love, that won't be relaxing for anyone involved - so I opted to keep my bikini bottoms on and a sheet over me. Then five minutes into the treatment, between shunting the wobbly massage table across the room every five minutes, she answers her mobile and proceed to chat away for five minutes whilst pummelling my feet.
So far, so not like the Village!
Just as I'm starting to relax (this morning was very tough you know. Lying in the sun, competing in dive offs, somersault offs, backflip offs and sipping beers in the sun can be exhausting), she asks, "Would you like me to do here madam?" and smoothes over my chest area.
I thought my response of "Um, not here thanks (points to chest area). No, not here" was pretty clear. Apparently not.
Then she starts to massage my belly (which there's a lot of). Now, when I go for massages at home and they massage your stomach, they put a towel over your girls to cover them ... Not so in Uganda apparently! There they were, fully on show and most definitely being skimmed. I nearly bloody died!
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to try to hide the fact I was fighting to stop myself bursting out laughing thinking, This Is Africa, Leonardo style!
Then it got worse!
When I turned over for her to do my back and shoulders, everything was pretty standard, as expected and I was getting over the unfortunate boob thing. Until she pulled my bikini bottoms pretty much UNDER my bum and proceeded to massage my lower back and guess what other part of me!
And once she'd done it, it wasn't as if I could say, "Eh now, hang on a minute love, that's not how we do it back home"! I just froze and did the very British thing of ignoring it hoping she'd stop PDQ!
Then, to make exceedingly uncomfortable matters even worse, she calls to one of her colleagues and leaves the room via the door covered by a curtain, so I have no idea if my bum was on show to passers by before I quickly pulled them back up causing a very uncomfortable self induced wedgie for the rest of the session!
Anyway, when I got back, Alex asked how it was.
"Fine, don't know what I was warned about. I wouldn't bother saying anything if I were you. Lot of fuss over nothing".
Can't wait to see his face if he has one later / tomorrow!
***
I couldn't post this as the internet went down. However, I didn't get to watch or hear the match. I was NOT impressed. It sounded like an amazing game.
I'm meeting Sue later and we're going back up there today so wil try to write more this evening.
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