A Year In Motion

First things first, we are not currently in India. In fact, it’s been four months since we were there. However, our India posts fell a little behind schedule, a little like the Commonwealth Games. So now that we are travelling through Asia again, we’re going to publish our India posts now.

People say India is a love or hate affair, for Tony it was love at first sight, for me the opposite. The good thing about visiting Delhi first in India is that once you leave it there is only looking up. Delhi couldn’t be more chaotic, hotter, and dustier than it was when we were there. I knew everything was going to be better from there, in fact I had such a positive attitude about leaving it that I was even looking forward to our overnight train from Delhi to Udaipur in Rajasthan, the Northwest of India. And it was great, we got the best compartment in the train. There are about 10 classes in Indian trains and you have to book in advance to get what you want. For Asian standards this is the best train we have taken so far. We were warned about heat, cockroaches, thieves, perverts, etc. and we got none of that. We got a locked compartment just for the two of us with closet, sink, and wide beds. It was so good that we even overslept and we got late off the train. It was not expensive either.

I think we had good karma. I used “The Secret” attitude, I had no doubt in my mind that all would be positive after Delhi; but also I believe the universe conspired to celebrate Tony’s birthday in grandeur. He sure deserves it because of his optimistic attitude about everything. I really admire how even in our lowest points in this trip he always manages to be optimist in everything. Me, I have to admit I’m more of a cynic in these situations. Tony was able to bear the heat of Delhi (47 degrees C) and walk around all day sightseeing with a smile on his face, and he is not even a native of the tropics like I am, he comes from the land of mist and drizzle; I had to rest in air conditioning. Tony is able to eat all the street food and beverages he sees and never gets sick; I on the other hand since Mongolia, have been watching everything I eat, to the point of almost becoming a vegan and washing my teeth with mineral water, and I have still managed to get stomach problems more than once. So yes karma is on his side and he was going to have a well deserved perfect day. Happy Birthday!

We both see things through different eyes. I grew up in Honduras, a very poor country, so I am not as impressed by poverty elsewhere. I do know very well the struggle of the poor, making it hard for me to see these parts of the world as a tourist. In fact many people from my country cannot understand why most of our itinerary is through developing countries. When people from Honduras travel they choose the most developed countries as their destination, they wish to see something different: USA or Europe. I am extremely fortunate to have traveled extensively through Europe and North America already. For Tony all this is different and new and I understand his interest to see how the other part of the world lives, as Ireland became one of the richest countries in the world. He is Honduran now sometimes as he has learned that it is a better answer than being Irish when asked where he is from. When you say Ireland the Euro signs starts shining on the locals eyes and raise their price 10 times, when you say Honduras they completely lose interest in us.

For his birthday he deserved a reward so we decided to splurge – big time! We stayed for 2 days in Udaipur, the city of romance, at the fantastic Udaivilas from the Oberoi Group. The landmark hotel of Udaipur and probably Rajasthan is the Taj Lake Palace, but the Udaivilas is even a step above in luxury and style. It was recently qualified as the best hotel in Asia and the 4th in the world. For that brief period we forgot we still had 10 more months of travel and no income, we pretended it was a luxury weekend getaway and on Monday we would be back at our paying jobs. It was well worth it! We are both lucky to have traveled before to other luxurious destinations and flashy resorts, but this experience was out of this world, tops our list as best ever. We highly recommend it to everyone, at least once in a lifetime you have to be treated as royalty.

We were greeted at the train station by a member of the hotel and a chauffeur driven luxury car, welcoming us with refreshing natural spring water, cold towels and the morning paper. Minutes later we arrived in the magnificent palace in a fortress setting, sheltered from the outside to provide peace and quiet to its guests. There was a welcome committee awaiting us: more cold towels, rose mango iced tea and we were marked with a sandalwood dot in our foreheads, a traditional Indian welcome, and everyone congratulated Mr Byrne for his birthday. We were then given a tour of the property and escorted to our room to do the check in. What a room it was, almost 700 square feet, with a terrace and private entrance to our own semi private infinity pool that overlooks the city and the Lake Palace, in a lush green setting of abundant plant life, animals and many colorful birds.

The water in our pool was perfect, the water in the lake not so much. The Lake Palace is supposed to be a palace island surrounded by a man made lake. It was so dry that you could walk to it from all sides, we were glad we opted for the Udaivilas. Apparently the monsoon has not been strong the last two years, hence the dryness. While in our pool we could see all the activity going on down there in the dry lake, kids playing and a migration of different animals, the water buffaloes being the most impressive. Before going to dinner to feast on traditional Indian food we celebrated in our pool with champagne and a rich chocolate cake offered by the hotel. We sure have missed champagne.

Not only the settings of the hotel are majestic: traditional Indian palace architecture and immense gardens including a wildlife refuge, but the service is out of this world. Numerous staff all very knowledgeable and attentive to your every need; but most importantly every single one of them, no exceptions, with a big smile on their faces. Beautiful settings definitely, but in my opinion service is what makes all the difference, and in India this was the only place where we got it.

We could not be there and not take advantage of the spa, and we are glad we did. We had the best treatment of our lives: a couples massage followed by a milk and rose bath. Not any rose bath, but a bath with literally thousands of fresh red rose petals. We also took part in a private complimentary yoga lesson. Tony enjoyed it so much that he will probably take yoga now, as it loosened a tight muscle in his back that no physiotherapist had been able to before. Although all the stretches were strenuous, probably the hardest thing was trying not to laugh out loud when our yogi was chanting “breathe deeply” in a heavily-accented and quite funny voice – lucky he had his eyes closed.

After a late breakfast in bed and a dip in our pool, against our wishes but using our better judgment we left paradise and ventured back again into the real India. The chauffeur drove us to our next appointment: Indian cooking lessons. Indian cuisine is actually really easy to make, it all revolves around the seven simple spices. We were disappointed with the lessons, nothing like our previous experience in Yangshuo, China. The concept here revolved around watching a lady cook and us taking notes only, although we did get to eat all the food too. It was all vegetarian as they were a Jain family who don’t use any animal products for food, dress or anything.

We visited several cities in Rajasthan, and they are all very colorful and interesting, but Udaipur was my favorite as it is by far the most tranquil and where we got the least hassle of all India. We did a walking tour through the town, especially its colorful markets and everyone was extremely welcoming and saying hello and other greetings in their language. Later we found out that it was because we were both wearing flower necklaces, which means you have just been married, and this is wedding season in India. Tony had gone previously into a temple and put a flower necklace on the goddess and one on me, then the girl selling them laughingly convinced him to wear one himself. Only hours later we realized her mischievous intentions, meaning “just married”. We also visited a tailor who made an Indian outfit for Tony to celebrate his birthday.

From Udaipur we traveled to Ranakpur, a major site for the Jain division of the Hindu religion. They have a beautiful temple carved all out of white marble, a real piece of work. There is nothing else in Ranakpur to do, but the drive from Udaipur was really scenic. We went through colourful villages where the people wear dazzling bright colors daily, the women beautiful saris and the men hot pink turbans. The turban’s colour and the way it is worn reflects where they come from and their caste. As expected the way of driving in India is completely crazy, even more than in Tibet. We made it one piece amazingly. Apart from the usual cows that rule over India, we were delighted to see camels in the highway, oxen turning wheels at water wells, as well as wild boars and other creatures we can’t name. But the best of all were the hundreds of crazy monkeys in different sections of the road as we got closer to Ranakpur. Tony stopped to take pictures and if they had a camera they would have been flashing away at us, as they are extremely curious creatures. Every time we stopped, dozens of them appeared from the bushes and got close to us to watch us.

Visiting Udaipur definitely uplifted my spirits after 4 days in crazy Delhi. There is so much to see in Rajasthan, and I am sure that in not so extreme heat it is even more magical. After Ranakpur, we continued on our tour of the …purs and moved on to Jodhpur.

All our India photos are uploaded in our photo album here.

Here we are in Asia for the second time in our trip around the world. We left the blazing dry heat of Cairo for the heavy, humid heat of Singapore. Arriving in Singapore is like child’s play for seasoned travellers like we are now. Right outside Arrivals is a Visitors Centre with helpful staff who gave us maps, recommendations, brochures and even made our hotel reservation for us. Easy peasy! We reserved for only one night though, as the cheapest hotel we could find (without being in the red light district) which was 100 Sing dollars, nearly €60 – pricey! Nonetheless, we switched airport terminals on the Skytrain, got on the modern super-clean metro, and made our way to the hotel. All this modernity and ease of use was a real culture shock after two and a half months in Africa.

Singapore is an island state, almost a city-state just off the southern tip of peninsular Malaysia, lying in an area of sea between the Melaka Straits and Singapore Straits. It’s a melting pot of different cultures – predominantly Chinese, Malay, a Chinese-Malay mix called Peranakan, Indian and just about everything else albeit in small amounts. Each of these cultures is evident in the districts of Singapore such as Chinatown, Kompong Glam and Little India. The island is also known in Malay as Temasek, and the city’s original name is Singapura, which means the Lion City. In the early 19th century, a British merchant named Thomas Raffles claimed the island as an English-controlled, free-trade port. Causing much consternation among the establishment back in Britain, not to mention the Dutch who then dominated the area known as the East Indies, this proved to be the turning point in Singapore’s fortunes, and a visionary decision by Raffles. Singapore briefly fell out of British control to the Japanese during WW2, and once the war ended, the Singaporeans seized the momentum to declare independence in the 1950s. We absorbed all this background on our first day touring the city in the renovated National Museum of Singapore, which mixes modern and Victorian architecture in an impressive fashion. We took the free tour at 2pm which was given by a local volunteer. The old lady didn’t do much guiding really, but just walked us (quickly) through the rooms, taking the opportunity to chat to her heart’s content with everyone on just about anything. We had to do a repeat tour, but the tour was still worth the time for the amusing conversation.

Outside the museum, each of Singapore’s main cultural influences is neatly centred in its own little district. On our second night, we stayed in the commercial Bugis area which is close to Kompong Glam – the Malay area of the city. Arab St is particularly vibrant at night with sheesha bars, kebab restaurants set against the background of the ornate Sultan Mosque. What most endeared me to the area was the range of amusingly titled restaurants such as Yukee Food House, and Ah Chew Desserts which served tempting delicacies such as White Fungus with Papaya, Green Bean Soup with Seaweed and various other mouthwatering selections.

They say that you should think twice before going to Little India on a Sunday, as that’s the only day of the week that most Indians do not work, but that’s exactly what we did. After having visited India itself, Singapore’s enclave is quite tame by comparison. Nonetheless, it did bring back some fond memories of the subcontinent – an abundance of men and a rarity of women, grown men holding hands, obligatory moustaches, smiley Sikhs, and the uniform of open-necked shirt and trousers with a tendency for such fashion bygones as pinstriped trousers and flares. There’s never a dull moment in Little India and it was great to reacquaint ourselves with old favourites such as chai masala (milky spiced tea) and breakfast curries. Little India is also home to a temple to the goddess Kali which houses some colourful statues depicting scenes of the wrathful goddess on what can only be described as one of her bad days. We were lucky to time our visit with a ceremony where worshippers passed prayers to the resident sadhus who conducted rituals over the flower-laden deities against the atmospheric backdrop of candlelight and bright neon. Those of you who have followed our blog carefully will have noticed the omission of India from our blog reports, but I’m happy to say we will be posting our accounts in the coming weeks as we zip around South East Asia. Little India was also a timely refresher on Hinduism ahead of our next destination, Bali.

It is said that the heart of Singapore is still as Raffles originally designed it, and we decided to stroll around it to see if this Raffles guy was all he’s cracked up to be. It turns out he didn’t do a bad job at all, at least from our uneducated urban planners’ point of view. We took a stroll from the old Armenian church with its pristine white exterior, past the cricket club, and down to the waterfront beside the Old Parliament where a statue of the man himself stands against a backdrop of an altogether more modern city. The Old Colonial Singapore provides a welcome contrast to the big city environment.

When we had been planning our trip, we had done our best to accommodate my preference to use Singapore as our gateway city to the East. This is due to my having worked previously with people from the Singapore office through my work in SAP, particularly one of my colleagues, Janice. As it turned out, on the days we were in Singapore, she was in Europe!!! But she was returning the day before we left, and we managed to hook up, and see some of the sights around the waterfront areas of Marina Barrage and Esplanade. Both locations give excellent panorama of the big city skyline, and on weekends, the Barrage turns into a playground for kite-flying Singaporeans. Unfortunately, the heat and humidity was taking its toll on Ninfa, so we had to take time out in an air-conditioned mall for her to recover from an attack of migraine. But recover she did, and we were able to join Janice for one of Singapore’s greatest attractions – the hawker centres. When I had visited the SAP offices earlier in the week, Cindy and Kasey had told me over lunch that the least-used room in a Singaporean home is the kitchen, because everyone eats out as the food is so good and cheap too!

And the hawker centres are where it happens, with stands selling fresh, sizzling, spicy delights to the masses of kitchen-phobic Singaporeans. We tried local specialities such as laksa (noodle soup – mmm!), carrot cake (mmm!), satay (mmm!) and countless other delights. But, we stayed clear of the pigs organ stand, the outlet of Kenny Rogers’ Roasters, and on second thoughts should have done the same for the “dessert” containing flavoured ice with sweetcorn and beans – more Yukee than Ah-Chew!

An exhibit from the Singapore National Museum with images from the glory days of the Singapore film industry

Any visit to Singapore would be incomplete without a visit to its commercial heart, Orchard St. A long street of air conditioned shopping malls, wide footpaths full of fashion wannabes, and gadget-obsessives tapping frantically on their new iphones. We took an amusing and bemusing Saturday stroll through the malls, tasting durian (very smelly fruit) mooncakes, and checking out the queues to enter one of the many Louis Vuitton stores on the street. The most fun to be had was definitely at the fish spa, where we treated ourself to a foot spa courtesy of hundreds of hungry fish. If you’ve got tickles, you’ll know all about them at the fish spa – not classic spa given the loud laughter which breaks out every now and then throughout the premises. Finally, since I hadn’t had a haircut in over a month, I decided to sell myself over to materialism and go to vogue hairdressers Toni and Guy for a trim. OK, it wasn’t that much of a sellout, as it was a free haircut at the Toni and Guy academy for aspiring hairdressers, sorry, stylists. I endured three hours of nervous snipping from Krystal before the trainer finally completed the job in about three minutes. Still, it was an experience, and my hair is shorter as a result – no further comment.

All in all, Singapore is a great place to visit and unrivalled in convenience, friendliness and quality of service. In fact at times, I found it to be a little too perfect, and perhaps a little too lacking in a gritty underbelly to make it thoroughly appealling. I just never thought people could be that content with everything – but if its true, then all the better, and maybe contentment just takes some getting used to. In any case, thanks to Janice, Cindy and Kasey for a great welcome and some genuine and much enjoyed hospitality.

Our Likes: Fish spa, hawker markets and food courts, cleanliness, guide to Singapore freebies in Starbucks, National Museum, colonial Singapore, fines for not flushing public toilets

Our Dislikes: price of alcohol and hotels, humidity, gadget obsessions, Orchard St materialism, fines for jaywalking

Singapore Class Divide

A-list: visit Louis Vuitton by appointment
B-list: queue for Louis Vuitton
C-list: queue for the bus

New York City is known to be the city that never sleeps. Having been in NYC and now in Cairo, we believe that Cairo deserves the title more. The Cairenes have it all figured out, they have swapped the day for the night and we don’t blame them. It completely makes sense to sleep and stay inside while it’s so hot and go out after dark when it’s not that hot.

Our plane arrived at midnight and we thought it would all be quiet and closed. Wrong! Everything was open and there were traffic jams everywhere. When we checked in at the hotel the receptionist told us it was a good time to go visit the Old Town as everything was open until 5 a.m. and most people would be out. We had to refuse as we had been traveling for 17 hours already. During our week long stay in Cairo we realized how nocturnal the city and its inhabitants are. I inquired if it was due to Ramadan their holy month, but they said Cairo is always alive at night, Ramadan or not.

Honestly I do not know much about the Islam religion so I had Ramadan figured out wrong. I thought it was all about sacrifice and worship. It certainly is, but I did not know how much of a celebration it becomes all night long, from the moment the sun sets until it rises. At 6:30 p.m. they have their “iftar”, in english they say it’s their breakfast, and it’s a big banquet. So big that we were turned away from restaurants when we wanted to have our dinner because the restaurants were all booked out for their big breakfast. Then they have their second meal around midnight, and their third around 5 am before the sun rises. Not bad! One day around 5 pm we went to the biggest and most modern mall in the Middle East. We wanted to see some shops and have dinner. We couldn’t do either. The shops would not open until 8 pm and we did not have bookings for iftar at the restaurants. We are no fans of fast food but our only option was the food court. That did not go well either. People show up early, order their meals, sit down (even the floor was crowded by the time we arrived) and then at 6:30 p.m. the outlets start dispensing the orders.

Middle Eastern food is something Tony and I will never get tired of so we delighted ourselves while in Cairo eating the usual suspects of hummus, baba ganoush, kibbe, vine leaves, moutabal, tahini, etc. plus some interesting Egyptian dishes. The most remarkable is Koshari, a crazy Egyptian specialty. It is a dish made of spaghetti, small tubular pasta, brown noodles, rice, lentils, chickpeas, topped with fried caramelized onions and then tomato sauce. Actually it tastes really good. In Old Cairo you can find some famous outlets selling it, all disputing the title of the best. It costs a mere $0.50 and it is very filling. We had expected lots of fresh fruit juices in Africa, we were surprised not to find them in Sub-Saharan Africa but Cairo made up for it, our favorites were guava and strawberry.

We spent a week in Cairo and time flew. Since we left South Africa a month and a half ago we have had very little comforts and almost no time to rest, as most days involved some sort of traveling. We decided we should stay in a nice hotel in Cairo in order to rest and catch up on our blog. We did see all of the Cairo attractions but at a leisurely pace, the rest of the time we lazed by the pool and spa. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to take much advantage of it as the doctor said I had to stay away from water due to the second degree burn on my leg caused by a motorcycle in Rwanda. Irresponsibly I did not seek immediate medical attention and by the time we arrived in Egypt it was looking bad and was infected. I wasn’t too convinced either about going to a hospital in Cairo but surprisingly I got immediate professional care at a very low cost. The doctor cleaned and treated the wound, prescribed antibiotics and ordered me to come back every 2nd day for checkup and to change the mummy dressing on my leg.

I instantly loved Cairo, the buzz in the city is spectacular, especially at night. It is a huge metropolis of more than 18 million people. It’s a crazy city, a concrete jungle in the middle of the desert, not a pretty sight during the hot hours of the day. It is mainly full of high rise 70′s style ugly buildings and everybody drives like a maniac in the never ending 24 hours traffic. It is chaotic, it thrives with energy, it’s great! It also has many modern constructions especially around the Nile area. It is old and new, not only the city but also its people, you can observe the very traditional Arabs and next to them the very modern with the latest Western fashions.

We visited Khan el Khalili, the big traditional Arab bazaar in Old Cairo where you can find absolutely everything. We also visited one of the most modern and biggest malls in the Middle East, if not the biggest, the Star City Mall, where you find all the European and American shops and restaurants. A felucca ride at sunset on the wide Nile River could not be missed. We also met my friend Said and he took us around modern Cairo and for Egyptian dinner on the Nile.

The highlights at the huge Egyptian Museum were the Mummies Room and the collection of Tutankhamen. Some of the mummies were all bandaged up, but some were uncovered and very well preserved, displaying their fingernails and hair. Tut’s collection was impressive, he sure liked his jewelry and gold and good taste he had. The highlight was definitely his gold mask. Seeing that brought me back to elementary school as I perfectly remember studying about him, back then I already knew one day I would get to see the items up close. Sadly there was nothing about Cleopatra, but we did see a bit on Nefertiti, another very well remembered figure from my school studies. Tony put it well when he said this museum was more of a warehouse. The quantity of objects is innumerable that they are just lying everywhere. I was not surprised to read on some exhibits that some items had been stolen previously and were found later on Ebay or private auctions. Currently a new museum is being built.

Ah the pyramids! We did not see them until our last day in Cairo, we saved the best for last. It is true, you can see them from the highway, from the road, at the traffic lights, they are just there! They are not in the middle of the desert, as I envisioned in my childhood. Modern constructions including housing units come almost to their foot. There are three pyramids in the site of Giza (suburb of Cairo) and the sphinx. We did not take a tour or hire a camel, donkey, horse, carriage or taxi to take us from one to the other. We were there at midday during Summer and it is perfectly acceptable to do it all walking on your own. We also went into the boat museum where they have a huge reconstructed Galleon, which they found buried as well, presumably so the pharaohs could travel in the afterlife. I can’t help but wonder about the new beliefs vs the old beliefs. The ancient civilization built this huge pyramids to be buried with all their belongings to rest in peace and enjoy the afterlife, and now a lot of it (including the mummies) have been dug up to be in a museum. Is it that the new Egyptians do not agree with their predecessors beliefs?

Walking from the “Great Pyramid” built by Khufu in 2550 BC to the second or middle pyramid “Khafre” is a real experience. The magnitude of them is impressive. Just looking back on it and thinking about them leaves me in awe. We did go inside the second pyramid, through a very low and narrow tunnel that leads you to the site of an excavated tomb. It is very humid inside, after a few minutes we were both soaking in sweat. Last we visited the sphinx. It is so much bigger than we ever imagined and pretty well preserved. The pyramids of Giza, truly a wonder of the world, and the Great Pyramid, the only Ancient Wonder of the World out of 7 left

We had heard and read so much about the scams, the touts, and all the harassment we would get in Egypt. Having been in Morocco, the Middle East, the Gulf Estates, South East Asia, India and coming from East Africa I was ready for it. Tony even suggested (as he read in a blog) that I should take my earplugs to the pyramids as he know how much how it stresses me. Well, guess what? We received hardly any harassment in Egypt, not even in the pyramids! I don’t know if it was because of Ramadan, because of the hot Summer or simply because we are already immune to it, but Egypt was pretty mild in those terms. To be honest, the Egyptians directly demand tip (baksheesh) for everything, almost even for saying hi, but we didn’t feel harassed at any moment, it actually made us laugh.

A taxi driver did try a scam on us but he hadn’t realized we are not the average amateur tourist. When we went to the pyramids from the center, the fare was about 25 Egyptian Pounds. On the way back I started hearing some strange beeping sounds, even though the driver had the music pretty loud. I thought the meter was going way too fast and I told Tony in Spanish to observe it. He did and I was right, the driver was manipulating the meter and taking the long way. We agreed not to say anything until we got off. By the time we arrived the meter read 120 Egyptian pounds, almost 500% the normal fare. We both got off and I immediately went to take a photo of his license plate. Tony told him we knew he was scamming us and he said “ok, how much you want to pay?”. We told him to wait there, that we would settle it in front of the Tourist Police, who are in almost every corner of Cairo. He immediately took off, so in the end our fare was free.

A tip for those traveling to Cairo, the “white” taxis are the ones with meters. The “black” ones have no meters and locals do not even ask the fare, they already know the fair prices and just pay it at the end. There are Lada white taxis and nicer newer model white taxis. The Ladas are safer as the meter is in a visible place where the driver cannot manipulate it, while some of the new ones have the meter very close to the driver, where the passengers in the back can hardly see it.

A week in Cairo and it went by so fast! Time sure flies when you are having a good time. Back to Asia again. Next stop: Singapore!

On our way to Kigali, the Rwandan capital, a story by Joseph Conrad came to mind about an early 20th century expedition to a colony in the heart of the African jungle, or as he calls it, the heart of darkness. The expedition’s goal was to repatriate Kurtz, a renegade explorer, about whom strange and sinister rumours of murder and cruelty circulated. Having found his man, and taking him back downriver, Kurtz utters his dying words “The horror! The horror!”. The novel suggests a heart of darkness in mankind that is capable of horrific cruelty.

It was therefore with an eerie feeling that we crossed the border from Uganda to Rwanda, a country close to the source of the Congo river where Conrad’s novel is set. We were here after all to discover the truth of events behind the brutal genocide that occured here in 1994. Many questions flowed through our minds. How would it feel to be in a country where anyone over the age of 18 would have witnessed one of the most traumatic events in human history? Did the person sitting beside me play any role? Good or bad? How do people move on? Note that what follows is the account of a genocide, and therefore not for all to read.

On our first full day in Kigali, we visited the Kigali Genocide Memorial which relates the events of Spring 1994 when the Hutu majority in Rwanda, turned the sword on the minority Tutsi an in the process murdered over 800,000 victims, almost 20% of the population. We had visited the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg which gives comprehensive and thorough information on all the aspects of that history. The Kigali Memorial, by comparison, delivers a lot less information, but a little tells a lot.

The story begins with colonisation. First colonised by Germany, then passed over to Belgium after WW1, the Belgians adopted a policy of divide and rule in what had been a generally peaceful co-existence between Hutu and Tutsi peoples in Rwanda. The Tutsis, representing no more than 15% of the population were chosen to govern over the majority Hutu and a minority Twa group. The seeds of ethnic tension were sown. This divide was incorporated into the identity card system but was far from an exact science. In Rwandan languages, Tutsi meant “breeder” (as of livestock, eg cattle-owners), and hutu meant “farmer”. The Belgian policy of control continued peacefully until the Tutsi king began showing ambitions of independence. The Belgians decided to change their policy to favour the Hutus. A bitter Hutu leadership with an almost entirely Hutu military came to power, and remained there through independence.

Under the presidency of Juvénal Habyarimana the state controlled media alienated the Tutsis, dehumanised them and openly referred to them as “cockroaches”. The president himself was the lead donor in the creation of an independent radio station, the infamous “Radio Television des Mille Collines”, which was to be the main hate-station throughout the genocide, coordinating the genocide militias. Sporadic outbreaks of murder against Tutsis regularly occurred during the early 1990s. In addition, a youth milita, the Interawahme, was founded and indoctrinated with hate propaganda against Tutsis. Things were coming to a boling point.

Before looking at what unfolded inside Rwanda, it’s also interesting to look at what was taking place outside. During the 1990s, and against the backdrop of this racial tension and state-sponsored murder, the French government guaranteed loans for Rwanda to purchase arms from a French company. In addition, a UN peacekeeping force composed primarily of Belgian forces were in place inside Rwanda, with first hand knowledge of what was taking place. A few weeks before the genocide began, a high-level government insider came to Lt. Gen. Romeo Dallaire, the head of the UN military presence in Rwanda, with details of a genocide being planned by the Hutu government. He talked of a plan to kill Belgian peacekeepers which would have the result of Belgium withdrawing their forces from Rwanda, and leaving the path clear to implement the genocide. He talked of the Interawahme training camps, and asked for UN intervention and his own protection. Dallaire relayed this in a cable to UN Secretary General Kofi Annan at UN HQ in New York. The information wasn’t ignored, it was acknowledged and a decision was later made to reduce the UN force in Rwanda! It is not known what happened to the informer. Events unfolded as predicted. Ten Belgian peacekeepers were murdered, the Belgian government withdrew their forces, leaving a reduced UN force with an ineffective mandate to bear witness to the horror.

All this is the background to what unfolded in Spring 1994, and a more authoritative account can be found from other sources. Nonetheless, it’s important to understand some background in order to understand the emotions that you feel as you move through the exhibits at the Kigali Genocide Memorial. And what follows is a true horror.

One of the exhibits is a chain, which in itself is a strong symbol of repression, struggle, discrimination. But shown together with a picture of smiling friends, and the story of how they were buried alive while tied together with this chain, it takes on a much more graphic meaning.

A video exhibit shows interviews with 4 survivors. One young man talks of trivial events with his mother, of meals, of lessons, before with considerable effort revealing that “my mother was beaten to death”. Another woman tells of how her family were thrown in a latrine and stoned to death, a method favoured by the rampaging Interahamwe. Having been in Africa and visited some of the toilet facilities, I felt physically sick. It was not enough to murder the Tutsis, but even the manner of death had to be the most inhuman possible. The memorial to children on the upper floor is poignantly simple – name, age, likes, and then cause of death – tortured, stabbed, beaten.

The memorial also houses a section on genocide in other parts of the world – war in the Balkans, the horrors of the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, the Holocaust and the Armenian Genocide. Without doubt, the Kigali Genocide Memorial is a must-visit, albeit an incredibly harrowing experience.

The next day, I took a trip to another memorial, in the south-west of Rwanda, in a town called Musambe, in Gigonkoro. Travelling is so much more convenient in Rwanda as opposed to its neighbouring countries due to Rwanda’s smaller size, but particularly its vastly superior roads and professional bus services – accurate timetables, only one person per seat, no standing! From Gigongkoro, I took a motorbike taxi the next five kilometres to Musambe.

The Genocide Memorial in Musambe is a former boarding school. I was met at the entrance by Olivier, who works there as a guide, and proved to be very informative. Set among spectacular views of sundrenched valleys and beautiful and bountiful countryside, the place looks more like a paradise than a hell where some 5,000 men, women and children were slaughtered in cold blood in 1994. Inside the school buildings, the preserved remains of 848 of the victims exhumed from the mass graves around us bear testament to what took place.

It’s a chilling and macabre experience to visit this memorial. At the time, the Interahamwe rounded up the local Tutsi population in the school grounds so as to more easily protect them from the war taking place. In truth, it was to more easily slaughter them. Once rounded up, the guards stopped food arriving, and even turned off the water in order to weaken the captives, making the final elimination that little bit easier to execute, before attacking the compound and killing all but a handful of those there.

The exhibits here, the corpses, expose the gruesome reality of the indiscriminate cruelty of genocide. When the bodies were being exhumed from the mass graves, many were not badly decomposed. The locals preserved them with lime, preserving a hope that someone may be able to identify them. But the faces bear no more identity, and the new government ordered that the bodies be preserved in the school buildings as a memorial to the events.

Observing the bodies, you don’t have to be a pathologist to work out the cause of death. The contorted remains of a people who died in agony bear clear marks of the weapons used – basic agricultural tools, machetes, and for the more fortunate, bullets. Many of the women’s bodies are frozen in a pose which suggests they could not guess which evil would be visited upon them next – rape or murder. Olivier told me that the most horrific beatings and torture were generally reserved for those who were known to the killers. The twisted corpse of one man shows he had his spine broken before being killed – who did he know? He lies close to another woman whose muted scream is now frozen for eternity. We visited the “children’s room”, where some flowers and poems are left beside the infant corpses. And I wonder what they suffered – did the children bear the horror of seeing their parents raped and beaten to death, or did the parents suffer the horror to seeing their children die before them. Horrible as it is to contemplate for the briefest of moments, this happened. We walked past rows of doors, filled with bodies, and I asked Olivier how it was possible to still live in the same country as the perpetrators of such savagery. He did not have much of an answer, but the future is all that’s left.

There is so much more that shocks about the circumstances surrounding the genocide, and how the great powers of the world are willing to stand by and let such things happen. Having read the above, you have to remember that it was far worse than that.

It’s probably guilt more than anything that sees Rwanda receive so much foreign aid. But in the Rwanda of today, the roads and infrastructure are far better than anything we’ve seen in the continent since South Africa. There is a considerable awareness of equal rights for women, HIV prevention, and discussion of domestic and child abuse. The rule of law seems much greater – only one person per seat on buses, only one passenger per motorbike taxi as well as helmets for both driver and passenger (although nothing to prevent a hot exhaust from inflicting a nasty burn on Ninfa’s calf). You’ll find you take mototaxis everywhere in Kigali, mainly due to how hilly it is. Surprisingly, we didn’t find many people who spoke French – English is as widespread as French these days it seems. However, there are only three or four ATMs in Kigali (maybe even Rwanda) that accept international cards – bring lots of dollars! We had drinks at the Hotel des Mille Collines, a swanky hotel in central Kigali, which became a de facto refugee camp during the Genocide. Needless to say, it’s a lot different today. On the other hand, we both highly recommend watching the movie Hotel Rwanda which was inspired by events at the hotel. Overall, we enjoyed Rwanda although of course not in the usual way. We will bring many souvenirs with us, the witnessing of Rwanda’s dark past, and the respect of their right to a bright future also.

Of course, Rwanda is also the last country we will visit in sub-Saharan Africa on our year around the world, and although travelling in Africa can be tough, it is hard not to feel a great deal of nostalgia for the continent and its people. Africa is blessed with natural treasures, and as I took the bus back from Gigonkoro, I savoured for the last time some of Africa’s true riches. The women languidly walking hand in hand in the balmy evening heat, the serene backdrop of fertile landscapes, rolling hills and tilled soil, valleys twisting away into the misty distance. The young boys pushing their overloaded bikes of bananas, sugar cane and whatever else will fit. The gatherings of people, the chattering, the laughing, the colourful dresses, the elaborate, plaited haristyles. Feeling a cool breeze in your hair as you sit on the back of a motorbike around the hilly streets of Kigali. And what everyone loves so much about Africa – the smiling, innocent children and the warmest of welcomes, and the joy that the people bring to their visitors.

The main reason we came to Uganda was to see the magnificent Mountain Gorillas who share 98.4% of DNA with us, humans. They are a critically endangered species due to poaching, victims of wars, human diseases, and loss of habitat. Much effort has been made to ensure their conservation. There are only about 800 gorillas of these species and they are all located in the border area between Rwanda, DR Congo and Uganda. They were studied by Dian Fossey and then made famous in the movie “Gorillas in the Mist”. Because of her involvement in this cause she was later brutally murdered. She was not in favor of the gorillas being in contact with humans, but years later after her death the “Dian Fossey Foundation” changed its opinion on the matter. Nowadays for US $ 500 humans can spend one hour with these amazing creatures and that’s why we were in Uganda.

There are two places in Uganda where you can experience this close encounter. The most famous is Bwindi Impenetrable Park where six families of gorillas are habituated. Per family of gorillas, 8 humans are allowed to visit them, making 48 permits per day. That is the fact, the truth is that getting one of those permits is not an easy task for an independent traveler. Since many months ago we had been trying to get our hands on 2 permits. We had called and we had emailed the Uganda Wildlife Authority (UWA) but there was never a reply. Once in Kampala we made our way to their headquarters and we were immediately told there were no permits available. After much begging, persuasion and a second visit to their office they “found” some permits available but for weeks ahead. They said that if we wanted it for anytime soon we should get a “package” from a travel agency. They even gave us the names of the agencies. The package includes the permit, accommodation and transport, and costs more than US $ 1000 per person. We really wanted to see the gorillas but not at that elevated price. They proceeded to explain to us that the travel agencies have the right to buy as many permits as they wish and they can do it 3 years in advance. We told them we thought it was outrageous and it was a monopoly, and incredibly the employee replied: “we have to protect Ugandan businesses”. Silly of us to think that the mission of the Uganda Wildlife Authority (UWA) was to protect the wildlife with the US $24000 they get daily from tourists who purchase the gorilla permits for Bwindi only. We both were angry and disappointed that we might not get a chance to see the gorillas after all. What a coincidence, previously in the day I had a glimpse at a local newspaper, and it had an article of the corruption regarding gorilla permits and how some employees and senior officials had just been suspended from their posts pending an investigation as they were favoring certain businesses. Before leaving the UWA I did not waste the opportunity to mention the news article to the employee.

We were not giving up! We knew that there was another habituated gorilla group that we had a shot at visiting. They are located in the Virunga Mountains a chain of volcanoes in between the three countries of DR Congo, Rwanda and Uganda. In the Ugandan side the park is called Mgahinga National Park. Travel agencies rarely have an interest in this permit as there is a catch: this gorilla family, the Nyakagezis, moves freely through the three countries so there is no guarantee it will be in Uganda. If gorillas are not seen, then most of the money has to be refunded to the client. Uganda is not a big country for African standards, but Mgahinga is in a remote corner and not easily accessible. We called the park’s office directly and they were very nice. They told us that the gorillas were currently in Uganda and that there were two permits available for 5 days later and that we did not have to pay until the actual day. Woohoo! All we had to do was cross our fingers and hope the gorillas were not interested in crossing borders this week and get ourselves to South West Uganda, or as Winston Churchill called it “the Pearl of Africa”.

First we had to get from Kampale to Kabale. This would be our last long bus ride in Africa, and probably our most memorable one. They told us it would only take six hours, we knew better. The bus was not so nice but it was the only daytime bus we could find. For some reason 95% of the long distance buses in Uganda travel by night. For obvious reasons we refuse to take night buses in Africa. Boarding the bus was chaotic, much pushing and shoving. I could understand the conductor telling everyone not to take seats 17 and 18, and something about muzungus (whites). Those were our seats. It turned out we were the only ones with seat numbers and a seat per person. I can only guess that it was because we paid more than the locals. In this case I did not mind because we got our own seat, not half a seat or a third of a seat. The bus was fully loaded people even with many people standing up in the aisle. Even as we pulled out of the station and had gone several blocks people kept getting on the bus. I could see from the window how they were hanging from the bus, and even like that more people kept trying to get on. It was our last long bus journey in Africa so I didn’t mind. Tony was in the aisle and people were almost on top of him but he would protest and since we were “VIP” the conductor would tell them to move.

We had not gone far when a motorized police officer stopped the bus. How could he not with people flying out from the door? He made about 30 people get off and minutes later he came on the bus. He made a speech and said that the Government of Uganda cares for the security of its people and will not let them die in any more bus accidents, that no people were allowed to travel standing up and more importantly that this bus had two damaged tyres and he had ordered the bus driver to go change them before we continued the journey and that the passengers should make sure he did that. I was impressed! But the Ugandans were unimpressed, they starting giving out to the police officer and telling him that he was delaying our journey… I couldn’t believe it! Once the driver started the bus again I honestly thought we were going to a station to change the tyres. We did go to a station but only to get gas, the tyres were never changed. I told Tony we should insist to the bus driver to change them, but he thought we should just go with the flow. I agreed, the Ugandans would probably kick us off the bus and we would have to say goodbye to our shot of seeing the gorillas. All left to do was bless ourselves and pray.

We did arrive, 3 hours later but alive. The road was not in the best condition either and we did see a couple of accidents. We stopped at several towns to unload passengers and load more and the bus would be overflowing through the door. I had to take a toilet break in one of the towns and when I came back I was unable to go back to our seat, I was one of the passengers hanging from the door for some minutes. After much negotiating and brute force Tony standing in our seat was able to pull me by the arms as I climbed over people. We got stopped by the police at least 8 more times but nobody was taken off the bus or was the driver obliged to change the tyres. I guess his negotiating skills are very good…What a ride!

One of the observations we have made during our innumerable bus rides in Africa is about the beauty of African babies. About half of the women in the buses have babies with them, that is a lot of babies. In the Western world this would mean a nightmare trip, there is nothing worse than going on a long plane ride with a baby nearby. Well in Africa it’s not like that, all babies are so well behaved. We do not understand how but they are all very quiet and don’t cry. The only time we had baby trouble was when Tony gave his seat to a German woman with an infant who did not have a seat. Not only did he cry all the way, but he threw tantrums, started kicking me in the face and I had to give him my cookies as he started yelling when he saw me eating. African women are doing something right and they should teach it in the West.

We thought the worse was over but it was far from that. It was too late to travel to Kisoro, the gateway to Mhaginga. We were told the next bus was at 3 am. No thanks! It was only 75 km from Kabale so we had no concerns about time. At that point we did not know how remote in Uganda we were. Besides the big bus at 3 am, there are minibuses that travel to Kisoro and “special hire taxis”. We learned that there is only one minibus and it takes about five hours to fill up with passengers each time and it had just left. We also learned that the taxis take seven passengers where only four fit, so we were not willing to go with them. We tried hard to negotiate a private taxi but they wanted too much money from us. Really, we were not being tight, but we refuse to be ripped off by so much. For the 75 km ride they wanted about 50 Euros, in Africa, in a very old beaten car…No way! Next day we would have to pay $1000 for the gorilla permits so we could not afford to just give money away. So we started hitchhiking. We have never ever done that as we know the risks implied but we were left without a choice. Many trucks were willing to take us, except no one was going to Kisoro, as it appears to be an even more remote location.

Just when we had given up and were heading back into the town centre a driver in a new car asked us if we were going into Kisoro. I had my doubts as we did not know how he knew we were going there, we had stopped hitching by that point. He told Tony that it was his hometown and he was going to a wedding. He did have a suit hanging in the backseat and shiny shoes so Tony told me to get in. He agreed to take us for about 15 Euros. Just in case, I was prepared to fulminate him with 100% DEET insect repellent spry, the only weapon I had. The road out of Kabale was excellent, in top condition. I thought we would be there in less than an hour. Halfway the road stopped, there were barely dirt tracks the rest of the way. We had a dose of very strong “African Massage” as they call it. The trip did take more than two hours. When cars came the other way we would have to stop as we would be under a big cloud of dust unable to see anything around us. Locals in Kisoro told Tony that they have been neglected by the government and they have been asking for this road for 30 years and only now they have started it. They said that the rest of Uganda calls them “Rwandans” as they are incommunicated from Uganda and closer to Rwanda. Bosco turned out to be a very nice and intelligent guy. He really was going to a wedding, when we arrived his whole family was waiting for him in their suits and gowns outside their house. He told him he had to take us first into town, he did, and he did not want to leave us until we found a hotel that was suitable. We insisted he go and get ready for his brother’s wedding. A suitable hotel we never found. But no problem, hakuna matata, tomorrow was gorilla day and that was all that mattered.

The next day we would drive 10 km to Mhaginga Park for our gorilla adventure. As expected we took 45 minutes for 10 km as the way was very bad and same conditions to the Rwandan border, which we went to after seeing the gorillas. The border at Cyanika is very quiet as there is not much traffic through there being so inaccessible. The South West of Uganda is astoundingly beautiful. Many lakes, hills, mountains, volcanoes, and crops in terraces make it a delight for the eyes.

We visited the Nyakagezi Gorilla Family along with 5 other tourists. Because it is so hard to get to Mhaginga and because of the uncertainty about the location of the gorillas not many venture there. Basically anyone that shows up in the Kisoro office can get a permit within the next few days. However it is always better to call in advance first to inquire if the gorillas are in Uganda.

There was a guide and two armed guards that led our trek. Two trackers armed with machetes to clear the way had left before us to locate the gorillas and radio us. About an hour later we were with the Nyakagezis. The trek was a bit uphill and not so easy for a few, but Tony and I had no problems, except with the occasional nettles poking my nose. Fortunately that day the gorillas were at the middle of the mountain as sometimes they can be at altitudes of over 4100 meters. Once we got close to the gorillas there was no trail except for what the trackers had cleared off with their machetes. They were not gorillas in the mist, they were gorillas in the clear! They were just adorable, big, tall and fluffy! We saw at least 9 members of the family including the chief silverback and the babies. It was a humbling experience to see these giants so similar to us from a few meters away.

I am glad I saw them but I think Dian Fossey was right, they should not be in contact with humans. I would not do it again. Tony and I both came to the conclusion that invading them was probably not right. Although they are very pacific beings it was obvious we do cause them much distress. We would go after one and then he would hide, then we would turn around and follow the tracker who would cut our way to get to the other one and then he would hide also, and so on… When they were sleeping we would all surround him and take pictures, then he would turn around to sleep on the other side, and then we would move to the other side, until he got tired and angry and would go hide. One got really angry and made a big noise like a loud bark and charged us, but not intending any harm. They could easily crush us if they wanted.

Imagine if a group of 8 strangers came daily to your house and followed every move of the family members for an hour. Would you like it? I certainly would not! I just witnessed one of the most amazing creatures on earth and agree that everything has to be done to ensure their conservation and contact with humans is not one of them, as they are very susceptible to human diseases. We should have been wearing face masks at least, I am guilty as charged. I only know all this now after having the briefing, seeing them and post research. Gorillas are incredible noble and intelligent creatures. We should all learn form them.

All the photos are uploaded here

The next day we travelled from Jinja to Kampala by minibus. Another reason to like Uganda is that there is no overloading of minibuses (at least around Kampala) – one person per seat. The journey was little more than an hour, and dropped us in the middle of crazy traffic in Kampala centre. There must be some organization to the chaos, but it’s not immediately evident. We got a hotel in the centre and set off exploring the city.

Most of what I know about Kampala comes from the guidebook and the film, The Last King of Scotland. One of the things I liked from the latter was that country music is popular in Uganda, and although I didn’t manage to catch any live performances, it was still funny to walk down a street in an African city and hear different shops playing country music.

Kampala is a buzz. After having witnessed the poverty of northern Tanzania, it was refreshing to see young professionals walking around on their lunch breaks – finally some prosperity in Africa. I have no doubt that Nairobi is the same, but I’ve only seen Kampala. The Ugandan flag features a bird, a crowned crane, in its centre. And as you walk around Kampala, every now and then you instinctively duck down, as a massive stork glides just overhead and lands in a tree in the middle of a hectic street. The natural world is everywhere in Africa, and underlines the tropical sensation of being in a city that practically sits upon the Equator.

Another thing about Kampala is that the cheapest and quickest form of public transport is the “boda boda” – the motorcycle taxi. Kampala is built on hills, and is very spread out, so we had to jump on a boda boda on several occasions. For a small fee, you can pay a complete stranger to take your life in his hands without any guarantee of arriving at your destination. No helmets, three people per bike, and a safety record that claims up to 5 people daily, it was careless, stupid, and a lot of fun. Boda bodas are part of the culture of Uganda, and it’s a great way to get chatting to the locals, once you agree on a price.

A lot of our time in Kampala went into seeking visas for our subsequent travel to Ethiopia. Ninfa cannot obtain a visa on arrival (being from Honduras) for some strange reason, and the Ethiopian Embassy would not arrange one for her either as she is not an East African resident. In fact the consul would not even come out of her office to discuss the matter with us, but advised her secretary to tell us that Ninfa had to travel to the USA to apply for her visa there. Standing in an Ethiopian Embassy in Uganda, it seemed the idiocy of the suggestion was evident to everyone but the Consul. Needless to say, we were annoyed.

Given our new dilemma, we quickly gathered our thoughts and decided to rearrange our African itinerary. We had originally planned to see the mountain gorillas in Uganda or Rwanda. We were going to do that in Uganda, and therefore drop Rwanda. Also, when we were planning our trip in the comfort of our apartment in Dublin, we had intended being out of Africa by 1 September, including some time in Egypt. It was the 20th of August, and we were in Uganda, so 1 September was never going to happen.

As a result, we went into the Rwandan embassy (next door to the Ethiopian Embassy) and they advised us that we needed to apply online for our visa, but that we could both enter without a problem. So our new itinerary was decided. Ethiopia was off the agenda. Instead, we would spend a few days in Rwanda, and head to Egypt before leaving for South East Asia on schedule on the 1st of September.

We spent the rest of our time in Kampala organizing our onward trips. We did have time to partake in a meal of traditional Ugandan food. Before visiting Africa, I was expecting loads of fruit and I don’t know what else. But one thing I didn’t expect was the abundance of root vegetables. We ate matooke (like a condensed turnip), sweet potato, cassava roots, pumpkin and best of all – Irish potatoes! They might not know a lot about Ireland in the middle of Africa, but they sure know that we like our potatoes!

We also got a chance to see some African music in concert. Every evening, a local band plays in the National Theatre along with traditional dancers. The crowd isn’t big, but it’s an enjoyable night, and you can’t come to Africa without indulging in one of its greatest riches – its music.

While we were in Kampala, it rained as well – probably the last thing we were expecting in August on the Equator. But seasons in Africa aren’t the same as our summer and winter. It’s wet or dry, and although officially it was dry, it rained. We took a walk through the muddy streets, dodging between porters bearing all sorts of loads, women selling bananas by the bunch (of 200!), and new friends eager to talk with a muzungu (Swahili for “white person”). We bought our tickets to the South at the old bus station, and prepared to depart to the famous south-west of Uganda, which is, as Winston Churchill famously described, the “pearl of Africa”.