Our guide grabbed us after breakfast and after registering, permits in hand (at US$500 each, these bloody apes better put on a stellar show for us) we went to the start point for the trek. A gaggle of wazungu tourists (all of them kitted up handsomely for a rain forest expedition, making the wife and I look like charity recipients) milled around near the park headquarters as the rain finally started to subside. A Ugandan Wildlife Authority (UWA) Ranger gave us all a briefing on the importance of the Bwindi area to the conservation of mountain gorillas. I’m a bit thick but I still don’t totally understand why mountain gorillas are so ridiculously endangered. I think they are fairly sensitive to adverse changes in their environment?
We were also given rudimentary instructions on safe distances from gorillas (7 metres), dos and don’ts (no eating, screaming around the apes) etc. No kids under 15 allowed on the trek; apparently one of the reasons for this is that young/baby gorillas will make a beeline to ‘play’ with human youngsters. UWA trackers were already out in the forest trying to locate the ‘Furry 6’ for us.
The tourists were then divided at random into groups of 8-10. Each group would track a particular family of gorillas. Our target family was the ‘Mubare’ family. 7 individuals led by a large, lazy silverback male. The ranger showed us mug shots of each gorilla to the wife’s great delight.
Our intrepid group of trekkers was an interesting mix. A Canadian couple our age, an older Australian geologist with some great stories, an ancient Germanic couple, a Belgian woman (for heaven’s sake, don’t mention Belgian colonies in East Africa) etc.
I felt a bit apprehensive about the random fitness levels of our group’s members. While I am no elite gorilla tracking athlete, tracking mobile animals does require a certain level of speed. After quickly hiring a couple of raincoats, from the park headquarters (phew) we all piled into our various 4WD vehicles and shot off over muddy roads to the start point at 1800 metres for our trek. Off we set-as it started raining again-up an uphill track past terraces and huts towards the forest entry point.
The elderly Germanic couple (E.G.C) immediately started puffing and panting and stopping. Really? Did they know this was a mountain gorilla trek? Sigh. Unlike Kilimanjaro climbing, you can’t naturally separate a group out into different speeds of ability; you all have to stick together.
We met up with another couple of UWA rangers toting Ak-47’s who would join our posse. I was a bit dubious of the stated reason for two machine guns: in order to warn any rogue gorilla we came across with a shot in the air. Think it was more a deterrent to the human ‘guerrilla’ variety.
(The Bodyguard)
After a 2 hour hike, we got to the entry point to the forest.
It certainly looked impenetrable. With the ‘Predator’ soundtrack playing in my head we descended into the jungle.
(goin in!)
It took an hour of medium/hard slog up and down through mud and thick vegetation to get near the moving gorillas. I couldn’t even see a track at some points, we just blindly followed our guides through a humid, thorny heaven for plants. We heard a lot of birds and monkeys. And the increasing pants and gasps of the slowing/stopping E.G.C. I hoped to Mungu we did not lose a chance to see the gorillas due to the E.G.C not spending enough hours on the Stairmaster.
After an hour we met up with the trackers who were already in the forest and BAM suddenly there was a black, furry shape sitting in the bushes in front of us.
The ‘Furry 7’ had unhelpfully chosen to dine that day in uneven, wet terrain, so gingerly we moved silently in and around the black shapes. The gorillas were in various stages of munching on leaves, climbing up trees or just staring into space. It was hard to keep your balance and take photos (couldn’t figure out how to turn off the flash, so had to cover it with my hand so as not to enrage the gorillas).
I was a little ‘ho hum’ about the size of the gorillas and then ‘Jeepers!’ we saw the big silverback leader of the troop. He was huge. I couldn’t believe how close we were getting to the gorillas, as we clambered on slopes to get good photos.
A mother whisked a baby on her back and shot off into the bush. The other gorillas started moving away from us. I started to feel vaguely guilty about us humans harassing these apes who were just wanting to get their munch on. Dian Fossey of ‘Gorillas in the Mist’ fame was resolutely opposed to making gorillas a sideshow. Ulp. And our ‘7 metre safe distance’ was totally out the window. We were pretty much at the mercy of the passive beasts…A gorilla brushed past one girl. I was about 2 metres from a lazy adolescent.
As I hunched down and watched him cough, scratch and look into the distance I started to feel some of the gorilla magic. They have expressive faces and big sad brown eyes.
‘Old souls’ as the wife called them. I got a bit closer to the adolescent, but as he silently bared his teeth and stared right in my eyes, I thought better of getting too close.
(Smiley ape)
So my guilt had been replaced by a fascination with how haunting it was to see these beings trying to eke out a living in their forest home. This unique experience was certainly worth all the travel time, credit card debt and vague Congo fears to do it. Magic.
(contemplation)
All too soon our time was up with the family and we moved away. As thunder rolled overhead, we headed out of the forest.
(out of the forest and back down)
After getting ‘gorilla tracking certificates’ and the obligatory tee shirt we met our guide and set off on the 100 km+ journey through another part of the Bwindi forest towards our night’s lodgings.
(stopping at a lookout)
On the drive, I kept thinking about the ethics of gorilla tourism (how many people must be pestering them every day?! ), Dian Fossey (must read her book) and sad, simian eyes. It was a long drive through beautiful rainforest. Bwindi is pretty spectacular. A different vibe to the Tanzanian plains I was used to. We left the forest behind and got back into a cultivated/populated area. We drove past an energetic group of kids singing (unknowingly) political slogans in favour of the current President.
(black and white colobus monkey we saw on the drive)
We stopped at one spot with a panoramic view of a valley and in the distance, the Virungas: the Ugandan/Congo/Rwandan shared volcano chain. Rwanda was pretty close by. I realised at that moment I would never be free of Africa for the rest of my days. There are worse things to be addicted to, I guess.
At 730pm we finally got to our lodge on a high hill by beautiful Lake Bunyoni. Couldn’t wait for the morning to see what the Lake actually looked like. And okay, yes I did order two dinners by mistake, in a story that would be too dull (ie embarrasing) for this blog. But I ate enough meat to power a lion for a year that night, groan.
To be continued
so cool!
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