The Land of a Thousand Hills (Rwanda)

“A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving.” Lao Tzu

In the last couple weeks, Jigs and I have gone in search of true adventure, and boy have we found it. After a couple of restful days at Lake Bunyoni, in south-western Uganda, we packed up the bike once more and started the trek into Rwanda, the land of a thousand hills. The friendly dutch manager at the campsite at Lake Bunyoni told us of a ‘shortcut’ to get to the border. He had also said that the road wound its way around the lakeshore and was far more scenic than the main route. He was not lying. The first 30km of that day’s ride was undoubtedly the most scenic road I have ridden in the 13000km I have covered since departing Jo’burg more than 5 months ago. Lake Bunyoni is guarded by extremely steep slopes all round and the road we took around the northern part of the lake was carved into the side of the steep slope the whole way. It probably was a short cut but it definitely took us a good deal longer than the normal route would have as we had to stop to take pictures around every bend because the views just kept on getting better and better.

From the lake we started to climb and climb for what felt like forever, darting between yellow construction trucks constantly as the road was undergoing some much needed improvements. The road then snaked through forests of bamboo before popping out on the other side of the mountains with infinite views all the way to the Park National Volcanoes, a row of four peaks that lie roughly on the border between Uganda and Rwanda. We descended from the mountain top as fast as the hairy switchback road would allow and rolled into Kisoro town for a bit of lunch and found refuge in an internet café while an early afternoon storm drenched the earth in a matter of minutes. From Kisoro we made our way down to the Rwandan border along a now muddy road with the volcanoes towering up to the right hand side. The border crossing was quick and easy, the toughest part of which was trying to work out just how badly the money changers were trying to rip us off as neither of us had any idea about the latest exchange rates for Rwandan francs.

Once in Rwanda it felt a little strange to all-of-a-sudden be driving on the right hand side of the road, something I have not done before. We had been for warned that most road accidents in Rwanda happen within a few kilometers of border posts as people are still trying to adjust to the new road rules. The landscape did not change dramatically as it so often does when you cross these imaginary lines drawn across the earth but there did seem to be loads more pedestrians ALL over the road. We cruised along 50km of smooth tar down to a town called Ruhengeri before starting the next challenge. We were en route to visit our friends Rob and Polly Summerhayse, who are working at a hospital in Rwanda, and they had warned us that the last 25 km form Ruhengeri was quite bumpy. That it was. We bounced our way down the “bumpy track” at little more than a crawling speed. The road followed a valley and provided some more breath-taking scenery all the way to Shyra Hospital, on top of a mountain.

Rob had Polly had just arrived at the hospital the day before we arrived. They had cycled all the way from South Africa!!!!! I stayed with them in Zululand during the early stages of my trip and it was incredible to think of the distance they had self propelled themselves since then. Dr Rob is volunteering in the hospital for 3 months, which they will use as a half way stop before continuing their epic journey home to the UK. They have been given a wonderful little house in which to live for their 3 months there and luckily it had a spare room so we were honored to be their first visitors. The house is perched on top of a mountain with brilliant views from the huge patio. We spent two fantastic days with them, catching up on each other’s adventures since we all last together.

We then made our way down to Kigali, the nation’s capital. We spent the night in Kigali and took advantage of the supermarket and treated ourselves to a nice western dinner. The next morning we were up early in order to pay a visit to the Genocide Memorial Centre before getting on the road. We knew that it was not going to be easy to walk through the museum, situated on the same site as the mass graves where thousands of people are buried but nothing could have prepared us for the hard hitting images and videos of people relaying their stories of the world’s most recent genocide and the shocking sequence of events that led to such a brutal atrocity. We left the memorial in shock and rode in silence all the way to the Tanzanian border on the eastern side of Rwanda.