We never intended to go to Copa Cabana. It was Diana who asked to have a go at the controls of my 4X4. And she has never driven a car, except in her fantasies.
But she has a valid driver’s license, which she got, if the age she told me is right, when she was supposed to be 16. When I started talking about the sad incidents of chopper crashes, she gave me that look that seemed to say, “Kale me I let you drive mine and you do not want me to touch yours...” or something like that. I let her into the cockpit.
She made the 4X4 lurch forward a metre, then stall, then lurch a metre, then stall, lurch, stall, and so on, flinging our heads violently backward and forward like human wind screen wipers. To travel just 1km that way would have required several weeks and thousands of Panadols.
So, I suggested we first get out of town and look for a village where she can knock pedestrians and get away with it.
That was when I saw the Copa Cabana sign post and felt like “Eureka!” I suggested to her that we first take a drink and that was how my 4X4 survived.
Copa Cabana is actually in Kisosonkole zone. The gate allows you into a wide pebble-surfaced parking area, separated from the bar premise by a live hedge. On the left is a storied building for those who want to rest. Their self contained rooms go for as low as sh20,000 — without breakfast.
But their other stuff was expensive! Beer cost sh2,000 but Tusker goes for sh2,500. Chicken and goat meat and a plate of chips cost sh3,500 while fish goes for an amazing sh8,000. No wonder there were few patrons.
The joint is grass-thatched. Music was soft and good and could be changed on request. The loos were clean although one part was under renovation to install tiles.
I suggested that we call Betty, our benevolent friend and Diana refused. So, I secretly sent her an SMS asking her to join us. She called Diana for details of our location and Diana intentionally gave her wrong directions.
I bet she must still be lost somewhere in Kyambogo looking for Copa Cabana.
Ends