African Epilogue

Fly high, fly free

That's it. The African adventure is over.

After meeting the gorillas we returned to our modest hotel and the next day we drove back to Kigali for our final night together as a group.

Kigali was an odd place. I took the opportunity to wander round but if there was a thriving city centre I never found it. There was lots of evidence of investment and outside influence but the city has a long way to go before it can rival the likes of say Cape Town.

A beautiful aspect of the city was the constant presence of yellow billed kite, which were as plentiful as seagulls are over British towns. There are various red kite populations around East Yorkshire and I always count it as a blessing to see one. Above Kigali I saw 8 circling the sky at one time. The photograph you see here was taken whilst I was enjoying a quiet drink at the hotel and two kite were circling the nearby trees.

Taking a break from meandering aimlessly around Kigali, I managed to enjoy a very pleasant lunch at the Hotel des Mille Collines, which is the hotel that the film Hotel Rwanda is based on.

The hotel was a modern one and still undergoing building work. Lunch on the terrace was leisurely and quiet, but soon there were diners everywhere. I was surrounded by people smartly dressed in collars and ties. Many had their plates piled high after helping themselves to the free buffet that was part of some corporate seminar. There was a buzz of office talk and for a few horrible moments I was transported back to the similar junkets that dotted my previous life. Managing to convince myself that I was still a lucky middle aged gapper and hadn't fallen through a worm hole into a boring and meaningless 'away day', I was comforted by what I saw and felt a sense of hope for this troubled corner of Africa.

Back on the street I hailed a pic-pic to take me to our hotel on the outskirts of the city. A pic-pic is a motorcycle taxi. Being whizzed along the busy highways and weaving in and out of traffic was both exhilarating and stupid. Wearing my usual shorts and T shirt I would have been a rare mess had my driver come to grief. I've no idea what speeds we reached along the dual carriageway as the speedo was broken. I dare say I wasn't insured either. But it was huge fun. It also gave me the sense of being an independent traveller, away from the security of the Exodus tour. Paul Theroux will be proud of me.

The last morning arrived and I reflected on my journey. Here is an extract from my journal that was written as I sat on the balcony of my hotel room:

'I take my leave of this land that I love so much, that plays havoc with my emotions.

'Tears well up as I look back upon this wonderful journey. Images of Africa's majestic animals and its fantastic landscape pour into my mind like the mighty waters of the Nile.

'But it is always the people that are so vivid in my memory: barefoot people carrying water in their yellow jerry cans; the Maasai in their bright red cloaks tending their cattle; the women of Rwanda in their bright costumes picking crops of tea and coffee; the men who whistle and jeer at us and raise their hands in salutation. And of course the children - dancing with joy at the sight of us passing by; running to keep up with us; the boys with their crayoned pictures of gorillas; and the sleepy babies warm and secure on their mother's backs; the boy in the orphanage at Bunyoni.

'As I gaze out on this land one last time a regal kite performs a fly-by, swooping under the branches of the acacia tree and then high and out of sight.

'My soul will always be with the kite as he soars over the heart of Africa.

'N'kosi sikele'i Afrika.'

We took our leave of JJ, Julius and Leo at the airport at Kigali. They were already preparing for the next group who would make our trip in reverse.

Together, we had travelled more than 2,500km over land on an adventure that I will never forget.

I hope you have enjoyed my African blogs. I certainly enjoyed writing them. Thanks especially to my good friend and fellow blogger, Rare Lesser Spotted, for his comments and encouragement.

There is one final piece of news for me to share with you.

As you may have gathered, the visit to the orphanage near Lake Bunyoni, Uganda was upsetting for me. As our journey continued my mind would often go back to the misfit child - the boy with learning difficulties, much older than the other children and in need of love and attention. I have a soft spot for misfits.

Since coming home I have been in correspondence with Crystal at the orphanage. I have learned that the boy is called Appa, as this is the only word he has ever spoken. He has been at the school for 4 months. I am in the process of making the necessary arrangements to sponsor Appa.

Someone once said to me that you can't make life better for everyone in the world, but you can make it better for one person. Maybe this is my way of dealing with my guilt over the children of Africa. I'm not sure. I do know though that I feel a lot happier about a misfit boy in a dusty playground above Lake Bunyoni.

Live long and prosper.