Budget safari… priceless encounters: An exhilarating night in Uganda in a two-man TENT, with a toilet full of baboons and a nerve-shredding big-cat visitor to the campsite

Croaking hippos. Whooping hyenas. Screeching baboons.

These are members of the wildlife orchestra playing a ‘savannah sonata’ that’s stopping me from drifting off to sleep.

There is nothing but a thin layer of canvas between me and the performers. Thankfully, I am not alone and I wonder whether my fellow campers, in their own tents, are also ‘enjoying’ the 2am performance.

I’m in a two-man tent in Queen Elizabeth National Park in western Uganda, a very different experience to my usual camping trips in France, with their rhythmic lullaby of chirping crickets.

My Uganda adventure begins on the opposite side of the country in Jinja, which lies at the end of a single dusty road a three-hour drive from Entebbe Airport. 

Pictured: The bush campsite where Laura spends the night in a two-man tent. Not far beyond the trees is the border with the Democratic Republic of the Congo

Hippos swim in the stream at the bottom of the bush campsite. Their eyes and ears pop up ‘like periscopes’ as they cool off in the water

The city comprises burnt orange dusty tracks, emerald green trees and motorbike taxis. It’s also home to the source of the Nile – marked by a blue sign – which we visit on a sunset river cruise.

With just three days in Jinja, I’m told the next must-do activity is further downstream at the Adrift river base.

Here, my friend and I put on helmets and lifejackets in preparation for a five-hour trip whitewater rafting through fierce rapids.

Poised to start paddling with gusto whenever the captain shouts ‘now’, we remain perched on the edge of our inflatable raft – until we capsize and regroup.

Our city stay is rounded off with a less adrenaline-inducing trip to the local high street, famed for its trendy deli serving flakey pastries that would rival those of French boulangeries.

Laura takes a cruise along the River Nile to its source in Jinja (above), eastern Uganda

Go with the flow: A sign marking the source of the River Nile

The tree-climbing lions are unique to Queen Elizabeth National Park and parts of Tanzania

The following morning, we wake at 5am to embark on a nine-hour drive across Uganda, from east to west.

The 280-mile (451km) journey will lead us to Queen Elizabeth National Park and its population of tree-climbing lions.

We battle bumpy roads with resolve in the hope of catching a glimpse of the rare cats, which are only found in Queen Elizabeth National Park and Lake Manyara National Park in neighbouring Tanzania.

‘I’m Marley, like Bob Marley,’ says one of our two guides from the front seat of our Toyota Landcruiser.

He points at the other one and adds: ‘He’s Emmanuel, but we call him Emma.’

Reaching the park at nightfall, we spend the first night at Ishasha Wilderness Camp.

Kobs, a type of antelope, are among animals spotted in the park’s golden grasslands

Laura travels in a Toyota Landcruiser similar to the one pictured here

Our glamping-esque safari tents each comprise a double bed, a self-contained hot water shower, a flush toilet and a thatched veranda overlooking the Ntungwe River.

Only here, hippos wander the campsite after nightfall and press their noses up against the canvas.

After daybreak, we venture further into the bush on our first game drive and cannot believe our luck.

Less than an hour in, ‘Bob Marley’ spots a trio of lions lazing in a solitary acacia tree with their legs dangling from its branches. 

On the first game drive, Laura’s group spot tree-climbing lions ‘lazing in a solitary acacia tree with their legs dangling from its branches’

Lunging over the sides of the Landcruiser, we gaze up at the pride and soak up the moment in silence for several minutes. Soon after, we are traversing the golden grasslands once more.

A herd of buffalo cross in front of our jeep, swooshing flies away with their tails, and hyenas skulk past, barely visible in the sunburnt grass.

As we approach another section of the river, hippos are cooling off in the water with their eyes and ears popping up like periscopes.

An elephant on the march in Elizabeth National Park

Laura, pictured, recalls feeling ‘exhilarated to step outside the jeep and into the bush’

Then as the sun begins to set, we turn down a narrow dirt track and are met with a final surprise in the form of three elephants waving their trunks.

Taking one last corner, we arrive at a clearing to the words ‘we’re here’ from our guide.

Looking around at the wild bush, I am confused as to what he means. But it soon dawns on me that this is our campsite.

One of the few things indications that this is a campsite is the toilet – a small, concrete hut with a hole in the ground.

But even this is off-limits thanks to the troop of baboons perched atop its roof with fangs bared. It’s a far cry from last night’s luxuries and Ishasha.

Despite this, it feels exhilarating to step outside the jeep and into the bush where, only moments ago, we had come face to face with wild elephants.

I pinch myself as I wander freely around the field, sharing the same space as these magnificent creatures. 

Laura says the campsite toilet – a small concrete hut with a hole in the ground – is ‘off limits thanks to the troop of baboons perched atop its roof’ 

Laura at the wild campsite. She writes: ‘I pinch myself as I wander freely around the field, sharing the same space as [some] magnificent creatures’

The guides reassure us of our safety by pointing to a lone ‘askari’, an armed guard who will watch the campsite at night. A firepit will also be burning throughout the night to ward off lions in particular, he explains.

Our evening begins with a BBQ dinner and wholesome conversations around the firepit, which looks onto a stream with resident hippos and crocs. Beyond it comes a whooping sound that I have not heard before and I turn to Emma for answers.

‘Hyenas,’ he says. ‘From the Congo. The DRC [Democratic Republic of the Congo] is just through the trees on the other side of that river.’

Guides suggest shining a headtorch at incoming hyenas to scare them off at night

This trip doesn’t cease to amaze me.

After watching the sun set over the plains, covering everything in a burnt orange hue, we place our rubbish inside the jeep, to avoid waste and attracting wildlife, and retire to our tents.

‘When you visit the toilet at night, take a headtorch with you,’ says Emma.

‘If you see a hyena on the way, shine it in their eyes to scare them away.’

He proceeds to warn us that elephants are the real ones to watch as they ‘trample on anything in their path’.

I spray myself with mosquito repellent and brave the now deserted toilet before climbing into my sleeping bag.

Soon, my surroundings are pitch black.

First, the hippos make their presence known by bellowing into the night. Next, the baboons take their turn with their high-pitched shrieks. The musicians in the wildlife orchestra are performing a call and response composition, with the occasional whooping of hyenas.

Pictured: Laura’s pitch tent (centre) at the wild camping site

‘They’re close,’ I think to myself, enjoying the absurdity of it all. The atmosphere is electrifying and it keeps me awake.

By the early hours of the morning, the excitement takes its toll and I am about to fall asleep when the ‘savannah sonata’ stops.

I am discombobulated by the thick sound of silence and feel desperate for the reassuring loop of croaks and shrieks to return.

Lying still in my sleeping bag, every muscle tense with anticipation, I wait for it to return.

Instead, I hear the faintest sound of footsteps beside my head, each one broken up by a panting noise. Step, pant, step, pant.

A lion walks right next to Laura’s tent during the night. She writes: ‘I hear the faintest sound of footsteps beside my head, each one broken up by a panting noise. Step, pant, step, pant’

These pictures by Laura show a yellow-billed stalk (left) and a herd of buffalo (right)

Terrified to move, my neck stiffens and my arms lock into my sides.

I maintain this position until the sun begins to rise on the other side of the canvas.

‘Did you hear the lion last night?’ asks ‘Bob Marley’, popping his head out of his tent. ‘That’s a first for this campsite. We’ll have to camp elsewhere next time,’ he says, turning to Emma.

‘A lucky escape? Or a lucky encounter?’ I wonder.

As I scramble out of my tent, I can feel my muscles relaxing into a dull ache and squint as the gentle, morning sunlight hits my face.

‘I am still here,’ I think, breathing in the fresh scent of the grass beneath my bare feet.

As the hippos begin to croak and the baboons start to shriek, I feel grateful for my survival and for the renewed enchantment of Uganda’s wilderness.

Similar trips can be booked with Lulu Safaris Uganda, which offers three-day tours of Queen Elizabeth National Park with return transport to Entebbe Airport. For more information, visit Safari Bookings.

For more on Uganda in general visit the tourism board site – utb.go.ug.