Finally, coming face to face with our primate cousins

Me with the massive apes

Restless all night with excitement, I was rudely awakened by a rap on the bungalow door announcing it was 0530 and time for me to get up.  The fact that I'd only managed no doze off about 2 hours ago, seemed immaterial to the rapper (sic) - and indeed it was.

I was going gorilla trekking - something I'd wanted to do since seeing "Gorillas in the Mist" way back in '87 or thereabouts.  I was about to savour every minute of it.

Rwandese dancer - the basket didn't fall once

We were soon off to the briefing centre where we were treated to a local dance with head-dresses waving and the balancing of woven baskets on ladies' heads.  Acrobatic jumps and broad smiles were the order of the day and it was a good way to wake up.

I'd been assigned to a group of 2 young ladies, 3 older ladies and a couple of the middle age variety.  Our group was quite international with the USA, South Africa, Croatia and Switzerland represented...not to mention the UK with me and by extension Kenya!

Getting with it

Patrick, our guide, ran through the dos and don'ts of the trek and we set off down a rather bumpy dirt track to the drop off point.  Here we each took a porter to carry our rucksacks etc and started the ascent - with the aid of sturdy mountain gorilla engraved walking stick.

Enjoying his work?

Great hairdos

About an hour of uphill slogging later, and after tens of smiling kids had encouraged us on our way, we reached the boundary wall which had been built along 70km in 2003 by locals to keep the buffalo and elephants in the national park and off their potato crops. 

And a flick back...!

We duly passed through a custom made gap and continued upwards, but now through dense jungle.  I couldn't help thinking of Tarzan and the black and white movies of his, where he swung through thick forest on vines .... The views ahead were exactly like that.  I must confess, the urge was there; to grasp hold of one of the thicker vines and see if I could imitate the swinging and "ooooouuuooooohoo hooo" - but sensibility got the better of me.  Fortunately, I suppose.

We marched through bamboo thickets, ducked under low-hanging branches covered in lichens and waded through cheek-high (yes, cheek-high) stinging nettles.  We then reached the point where we set our walking staffs down, divested ourselves of bags and other extraneous things and began the last few metres' walk.

There they were: Bwenge's group spread out on the ground without a care in the world.  Bwenge means "the wise one" in the local language and he is the son of the famous Titus. - who even features on Rwandan bank notes.  The troop is twelve strong and we saw nine of the group on our visit.

I was fixated.  I was emotional.  I was in awe.

The silver-back was huge.  And within arms reach.

They didn't do much, I must confess, but just being in their presence and being so privileged to sit with them for an hour (that's all you're allowed so as not to stress them out too much) was truly overwhelming. 

The babies (2) and the juveniles (3) were a little more boisterous and posed for the cameras.  The older females couldn't quite be bothered.  But the troop together grooming, yawning, scratching and snoring was breathtaking and beautiful.

The time slipped away too quickly and I couldn't believe it when Patrick said we had to be on our way back down the mountain. 

I'd been the last to arrive on the scene with the magnificent apes, and I was the last to leave.

Patrick, our guide

Bwenge, the silver back

A baby - about 2 years old

Local kids, waving us on up the trek

Bwenge having a good old yawn

And a scratch

You lookin' at me?!

Being a caring dad

Maggie - Bwenge's father's mate - Bwenge kept away from her sexually - as if he knew it would be a bad thing

That hand is 99% human

The certificate - just before I bought a T-shirt with Bwenge's name on it

Tarzan-esque....right?

As I was about to move out of view, Bwenge opened his eyes and stared directly into mine.  I was there alone with a silver-back, albeit momentarily.  But I was alone with him.  And I whispered, "I'll be back some day," and you know, I think I meant it.

Descending was quick and about half-way down, the heavens opened and we got duly drenched.  But hey, what's a trek with mountain gorillas with no mist and with mist there's rain!

As I got my obligatory certificate at the equally obligatory souvenir centre, I was warm inside, despite my sodden clothes, knowing I'd just spent a delicious hour with some of the world's most magnificent, endangered, yet "very-human" creatures.

Rwanda had impressed me, my own sense of adventure had impressed me, but most of all, the gorillas in the mist had exceeded all my expectations.

I will be back.