Uganda: Chaos, Coincidence & Culture

Uganda needed its own space — and a different kind of writing.

Rwanda was clean, organised, calm in a way that almost feels unreal. Uganda was louder, wetter, more intense — not in a negative way, just in a this is a completely different rhythm way. Rwanda felt structured. Uganda felt improvised. And travelling with a six-year-old means you feel that difference in your body: noise, movement, bargaining, getting from A to B, and then the relief of slowing down when you finally can.

I also didn’t want to split Uganda into ten different blog posts. So this is the comprehensive one — the city energy, the slower days, Romeo’s favourite moments, and the little “normal life” things that ended up being just as important as the big activities.

And honestly, Uganda announced itself from the very beginning.

We arrived at something like 6am, after the night bus from Rwanda — tired, damp, dragging bags, and trying to look like we had any idea what we were doing while it rained and everyone fought for taxis.

And then I saw this guy.

Same face. Same vibe. Same everything. He looked so much like my friend back home that my brain just went: I know him. I couldn’t stop staring. Not even in a subtle way — the kind of staring where you only realise you’re doing it when it’s already too late and you’ve definitely made it weird.

So I messaged my friend, half laughing at myself:
“OMG. I’ve just seen your literal doppelganger.”

He replies: “Where are you?”
I said: “Uganda.”

And then about ten minutes later he messages again like:
“Oh my God. Did you just do the night bus from Rwanda to Uganda?”

I was like… how the hell would you even know that?

And he goes:
“Because the guy you saw was my brother.”

Turns out my friend has an actual twin brother — and that twin brother was on the same night bus as me, on the other side of the world, in the rain, at 6am, while I’m standing there staring at him like a lunatic.

And the best part? The poor guy was obviously freaked out. From his perspective, some random woman is staring at him like she recognises him, and he’s thinking: this girl definitely knows my brother. Which… technically, yes.

Uganda hadn’t even properly started and it was already doing that thing it does — chaos, coincidence, and a reminder that the world is both massive and ridiculously small.

 Kampala vs Entebbe: two different Ugandas
We stayed in Kampala and Entebbe, and they felt like two different experiences.

Kampala is the capital — proper city life. Busy, chaotic, intense. We stayed in a nice hotel there, and it was honestly the perfect place to recover after the border bus madness and just let Romeo be comfortable for a minute.

Entebbe was where we slowed down.

In Entebbe we rented more of a little apartment, and the whole energy changed. It felt calmer, more spacious, more “slow travel.” It’s where we did the nature days, the cinema days, the normal-life days. It’s where Uganda started to feel like something we could breathe inside.

And that’s the thing about travelling with a child: you can’t do “intense” all the time. You have to balance it. You have to build in softness. Familiar things. A playground. A film. A day where nothing is a mission.

Uganda gave us both.

Kampala: the pulse of the trip (and the night Romeo still talks about)
Kampala was the part of Uganda that felt like it grabbed you by the collar.

After Rwanda’s calm and structure, Kampala was noise, movement, bargaining, traffic that doesn’t believe in lanes, and that constant sense that everything is happening at once. It’s not the kind of place you “float” through — you have to be awake in your body. And travelling with a six-year-old, you feel that even more, because you’re not just managing yourself, you’re managing a small human in the middle of it.

But Kampala was also where we did the most city Uganda — the cultural stuff, the places that made it feel like we weren’t just passing through.

We also did a couple of Kampala highlights that genuinely surprised me. We went to see the Kasubi Tombs, and I’m so glad we did — not just because it’s “a site,” but because it gave us context. You don’t really understand a place until you understand its story, and learning about the Buganda Kingdom and what the tombs represent made Kampala feel deeper than just traffic and chaos.

And then there was the Gaddafi Mosque — another proper highlight. Apart from being stunning, it gave us that perspective shift I always love: stepping into a space that changes the tempo, and seeing the city from above in a way that makes everything click. Kampala is intense at street level, but from up there you can actually see it — the scale, the sprawl, the life.

The Craft Market (African Village): Kampala, but make it manageable
One of my favourite Kampala moments was the Craft Market (African Village), just off Buganda Road.

And let me be clear: there was nothing calm about it.

It had all the things you want from a market — colour, creativity, that I want to touch everything energy — with the chaos. Not the full downtown madness where you feel like you need a strategy meeting and a bodyguard, but still loud, busy, intense, and very Kampala. It’s more tourist-friendly, yes… but it’s not a spa day.

We ended up going a few times, which is how you know it got under our skin. You do that classic market thing where you’re trying to be sensible — “Oh, I’ll check and come back tomorrow” — and then you actually do come back, and they remember you.

Like properly remember you.

“Ahhh, you said you were coming back.”
“Yes, yes, I did say that.”
Suddenly you’re accountable.

We wandered through stalls of traditional musical instruments (drums, thumb pianos), hand-dyed fabrics, woven baskets, carved wooden figures, beaded jewellery… the kind of place where you keep picking things up, putting them down, picking them up again, and trying to decide what you actually want to take home.

Romeo was on a mission for a lion painting — but not just any lion. A specific lion. A baby lion, obviously (little Leo energy). We actually had to go twice for that painting because on the first day, by the time we went back to buy it, the lady had closed her shop early and she was gone. Romeo was not letting that go, so we went back again.

I, on the other hand, went straight for the jewellery. Because no one does it like Africans do: the rings, the big earrings, the collars — bold, unapologetic, and impossible to ignore.

And yes, bargaining is part of it. Not in a scary way, but in a you need to be awake way. Ask, smile, negotiate, don’t panic, don’t overpay. Kampala lessons.

 

Ndere Cultural Centre: The Sherehe Show (a proper highlight)
One night we went to Ndere Cultural Centre in Ntinda for The Sherehe Show, and it was genuinely one of the highlights of the whole Uganda trip.

It’s a full cultural night — music, dance, storytelling, the whole thing — and it didn’t feel like a tourist performance where you’re watching from a distance. It felt alive. Proud. Joyful. Like you’re being invited into something, not just consuming it.

And it went on for over four hours… which sounds insane until you’re actually there and you realise you’re not bored for a second.

Romeo’s absolute favourite part was when they invited all the children up onto the stage. That moment was magic — not just cute, but genuinely moving. Watching him be part of it (not just watching it) was one of those travel memories I already know I’ll keep forever.

Kampala isn’t the “comfortable” part of Uganda — that was more Entebbe — but it is the heartbeat. It’s the place that reminds you you’re in a real capital city, with real culture, real energy, and a rhythm that doesn’t slow down just because you’re tired.

 

 The chocolate workshop (and the vegan restaurant next door)
Romeo’s favourite “proper activity” in Uganda was the chocolate workshop.

It wasn’t just the workshop itself — it was the whole little experience around it. Next door there was a really cool vegan restaurant, and we went there too. They were playing a movie, the vibe was relaxed, and it felt like one of those perfect travel pockets: something fun, something delicious, something easy.

Not everything has to be a landmark.

Sometimes the best moments are just: your kid happy, your body calm, your brain not fighting the day.

 

The moment I gave in to motorbikes (and Romeo found freedom)
All trip, people were trying to get us to use motorbikes.

And all trip, I was resisting.

Because I’m a mum. Because I’m thinking about safety. Because I’m imagining worst-case scenarios while my child is imagining fun.

Then we had one of those moments where travel stops being philosophical and becomes practical: we were running late for something, we couldn’t find a taxi, and motorbikes were everywhere offering to take us. They were also so much cheaper.

So I said it. The sentence you say when you’ve run out of options:

Fuck it.

We got on.

And it became Romeo’s favourite thing in the world.

From that moment on, we used motorbikes all the time. Not because I suddenly became fearless — I didn’t — but because it worked, and because Romeo loved it so much that it changed the whole mood of moving around.

There was something about it that made him feel… free.

And honestly, watching your child feel that kind of freedom — in a place that’s new, loud, intense — is one of those parenting moments that stays with you.

 

The Botanic Garden in Entebbe: a slow day with monkeys and space to breathe
The Botanic Garden was one of our slow days.

We walked a lot. We wandered. We watched monkeys just… existing, like they owned the place (because they do). It was the kind of day that doesn’t sound dramatic when you describe it, but it matters when you’re travelling with a child — because it’s not overstimulating, it’s not rushed, and it lets you feel connected to nature without needing to “achieve” anything.

Uganda is intense, but it also gives you these soft, green, quiet corners if you let it.

The wildlife centre in Entebbe — and finally, lions
One thing I want to be clear – we could not leave Africa without seeing lions.

I avoid Zoos so we did go to a protected wildlife centre  and it ended up being a big moment for Romeo because it was where we finally saw lions.

After all his safari expectations (lion, hyenas…), this was the moment where he got what he’d been holding in his head since before we even left home.

And for me, it mattered that it wasn’t just “animals for entertainment.” It was a protected place. There was a purpose to it. That’s the line I care about.

 

The plane cemetery beach (odd, brilliant, and very Romeo)
Another unexpected highlight was what I can only describe as a plane cemetery.

It was basically a beach… with all these old planes. You could go inside them. It was strange and fascinating and a bit surreal — exactly the kind of place a child will love because it feels like discovery.

Romeo loved it.

It’s funny what kids remember. Sometimes it’s not the “big” thing. It’s the weird thing.

Normal life days: cinema, playgrounds, soft play
And then there were the normal days.

Cinema. Playgrounds. Soft play.

I know some people think that’s pointless when you’re abroad — like, why do “normal” things in a different country?

But that’s not how travelling with a child works. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is give them familiarity inside the unfamiliar. Let them just be a kid. Let them do the things their body knows how to do.

Those days were good for him.

And honestly, they were good for me too.

 

The Ebola outbreak (and why I’m mentioning it)
Soon after we left Uganda, there was an Ebola outbreak.

We had friends reaching out asking if we were okay, and we were — it started shortly after we left. Obviously it’s terrible news, and I’m not saying “lucky” in a celebratory way. I’m saying it as a reminder that the world is real.

And it also reminded me — again — why I take precautions seriously. Vaccinations. Pills. All the boring things people love to call “overthinking.”

Travel isn’t about pretending nothing can touch you.

It’s about moving through the world with respect — for your own health, and for the places you’re visiting.

 

Uganda, in one sentence
Uganda was chaotic and intense, and also warm and full of life.

It gave Romeo chocolate and monkeys and motorbikes and lions and old planes and cinema days.

It gave me a different kind of travel — less structured, more improvised — and it reminded me that not every country is meant to feel “easy.”

Some places are meant to wake you up.

And Uganda definitely did.

Love&Light,

Emma