France and its Olympic city Paris were a gem in the 1990s

 “Mugagga come over to my office immediately!”

 I almost tripped before taking the stairs. I wondered what sort of crime I had committed because it was unusual for “Waf”, who was not directly involved in the paper’s editorial work to summon a reporter. This would not have been a surprise if the order had come from editors such as David Ouma Balikowa (DOB), Kevin Aliro or Richard Tebere.

In Waf’s office, I found a nun from the Uganda Catholic Secretariat. The first question Waf asked me was whether I had a Ugandan passport to which I answered, ‘No’. Why would he be bothered whether a mere reporter had such an important document intended for more important people such as editors? He later said The Monitor was going to sponsor my trip to France to cover the World Youth Day festivals. 

“You must get a passport as soon as possible because you are to travel in two weeks,” he revealed. Hearing this, I checked the calendar to be sure this was not April 1, Fools’ Day.

With the newspaper’s assistance, I got a passport at Shs 25,000 in just a week. But, I kept on wondering why a few weeks ago didn’t need a passport to fly to Mbarara in a small Fokker plane to cover the opening of an airfield with others like then transport Minister Ms Rebecca Kadaga. 

Off to the airport

On D-day, I travelled to Entebbe Airport in a taxi operated by the now-famous comedian Zizinga. The Ugandan delegation to France comprised about 100 youth with the head of delegation being the late bishop emeritus of Mbarara John Baptist Kakubi. At Entebbe, we boarded a huge 

Alliance Air plane which had an emblem of a lion. Before it took off, we were served soft drinks but something kept bothering my mind. I wondered why the cabin crew people were delaying opening the plane windows so that we could fly while enjoying fresh air from the beautiful dark blue skies. Besides, some of us Kampala city dwellers always enjoyed travelling in matatus with hands extending out the windows which is locally referred to as “kusowola”. We eventually flew via Kilimanjaro and Heathrow airports in Tanzania and the UK respectively.

We spent about 40 minutes in London and took a small British Midland plane in Paris, arriving at Charles De Gaulle airport in the dark of the night. 

At the French airport the security was so tight and we spent some time being thoroughly checked with  our documents being examined several times thinking that we were being mistaken to be terrorists. Giant French policemen were armed to teeth with pistols tied around their waists. 

Besides, the airport was beefed up with fierce looking sniffer dogs. Later we learned that the security had been beefed up because of the Pope’s impending visit to France to grace the youth day festivals..

According to the itinerary, we were to spend the first few days with French families in Amiens,in the north of France and because of this, we took buses reaching there late in the night. Myself and two others went to the family of aged Michel and Yolanda Degrendel who spoke very little English while we also almost knew no word of French. 

This, however did not stop us from enjoying our stay and at times had to consult a French- English dictionary which the couple had acquired to facilitate our smooth stay at their residence. 

At the end of the week the couple felt sad as we bid them farewell because had to head back to Paris for the main celebrations. There the Ugandan contingent put out at “Fort De Rest”, an army training school in the Paris suburbs of St Denis (pronounced as “San Doni” in French. 

Here a few young army men around treated us so well and because most of them spoke English we freely chatted with them. I was here when one day noticed a giant structure being constructed just a stone throw away only to be told by one officer that this was the St Denis stadium that would host the 1998 World Cup in less than a year. I immediately got out my small camera which I had borrowed from Monitor photographer late Peter Busomoke before travelling and rushed to the construction site where I took several snaps.

Hostile weather in Paris

The weather in Paris was extremely hot and far hotter than we ever experienced in Kampala. Radio and television ads kept on advising people to constantly drink water so as to avoid getting dehydrated. Apart from this we found the French capital to be such a marvelous city. 

We moved around several tourist attraction using the city’s effective and reliable metro system. Among places visited was of course the Eiffel tower, Louvre museum, Place du Trocaderi, Centre Pompidou, Champ Elysee and Versailles Palace. Others were the 12th-century Gothic Notre-Dame Cathedral where we saw one of the first bibles to be published. Another historic church we went to was the St Denis Cathedral inside which several French kings were buried. 

There was much to see at at Louvre museum such as the bed and bedding which belonged to king Louis hundreds of years ago. Here we were strictly barred from photographing and told that camera flashes were a danger to such reserved pieces. We also enjoyed river Seine cruises. .  

Above all, during our stay we really enjoyed French food but this did not surprise us at all. because the French people are renowned for their culinary expertise. We were fed on their delicious soft cheeses, freshly baked crusty bread and full bodied wines. 

In addition we had rich and flavourful sauces, tender meats that we were told were slow cooked to perfection without forgetting their soft stewed vegetables. Not surprising that despite spending just three weeks in France on returning to Uganda many were amazed at my weight gain within such a short period of stay. Paris was well known for its cafe culture which attracted many visitors. 

During the world youth day, over a million young people filled the city streets with joy and fraternity with a big number taking part in the evening vigil at Long Champ. Besides, the city of Paris looked so romantic with couples seen walking on the streets while holding each other by hands and even waists. Some could even be seen kissing openly in broad day light and not hiding in dark corners like the case with some Ugandans in Kampala. 

Elsewhere, France had its own surprises. For instance there was a time when we experienced longer days with midnight time being so clear with no darkness. Here in Uganda whereas the majority tend to drink only boiled tap water we came to learn that tap water everywhere in France was fit for drinking. One day while in the media conference hall, we run short of mineral water and were advised to go for tap water in the toilets.  

Then, there was something I will never forget about Paris. There was this mzungu I met on the way with his young son who noticed me putting on a t-shirt with a word “Uganda”. He approached me and inquired whether I was visiting France directly from Uganda. He said his son had never met a black person coming directly from Africa and requested me to allow him touch and feel my skin, To this I agreed while laughing and being amused.      

In all, I found France and its capital city so beautiful and full of funk, little wonder that on returning to Uganda I had a lot to narrate and wrote eight feature stories which Daily Monitor published. As for Paris was one wonder city that could not be compared to other big ones my journalism career has let me visit. The likes of London, Chicago, Atlanta, Brussels, Copenhagen, Amsterdam, Berlin, Johannesburg, Abidjan, Luanda or Lagos. 

Probably the only thing I came to dislike about Paris was when heard some shocking news. Just two days after returning to Uganda, news broke about the demise of Princess Diana in a car accident in Paris. I felt so sad with something telling my mind that such an adored personality could have died elsewhere, but not in an iconic city like Paris.