We returned to Kisenyi in the last few days of December. This time we were travelling in style – a friend from Bunia who had inadvertently become our guide drove us through in his car. It was definitely a more comfortable than 45km on a cheap Chinese (Indian?) motorbike. We stopped once, along the way, at an accident scene – a large, yellow truck had fallen off the side of the mountain. As one of our group remarked, it was probably a good thing we didn’t see this on our way in. To be fair, the condition of the roads and the vehicles in the eastern DRC is such that accidents are probably not that unusual. Luckily no-one was hurt and, once the photographers were done, we headed on.
The eastern DRC is beautiful and this ride was one of my favourite of the trip. The area around Bunia is cattle country, with rolling hills and wide grassy plains. Travelling to Kisenyi, you drop sharply down the hillside towards the lake. We had driven out of a storm and the storm light turned the hills emerald green. In the distance, running almost parallel to the road, was a series of electricity pylons. Wires hung down forlornly and nothing connects them anymore, but they are a reminder that this place, this area, is not one of perpetual darkness and despair and hint that this most recent turmoil might be an exception rather than the rule.
Towards Kisenyi, we saw more of the long-horned cows so typical of the area. Months later, I would hear from a colleague the ongoing struggle they have to convince people in east and central Africa to give up their long-horned cows in favour of breeds with better milk and meat production. Those horns certainly are striking.
In Kisenyi, the friend we had driven down with took us back to the little guest-house where we’d stayed which, it turned out, was owned by his sister’s daughter. We left our bags and then headed off to his resort, which, it turned out, is quite a lot like something out of a movie set. We chatted and wrote and relaxed and some of the group did a few interviews before the friend who had driven us down returned to Bunia. Fisherman in boats came and went along the shore. A perfect setting for our last afternoon in the Congo.
We stayed at the resort for dinner. It was more expensive than some of the other places we’d been, but it was pretty good and the sheer joy of fish and chips with cold Primus under a lapa by the lake, while evening fell on Kisenyi was precious.
As we were getting ready to leave, like a final gift after a day of wonderful sights, fireflies appeared. I grew up reading about fireflies in books from other countries. I know we have glow-worms in South Africa but I’d never seen anything like this. I sat on the swing in the warm evening and watch a magical lights show – masses of flickering, pulsing flashes of light against the dark trees and the dark lake and the endless, star-washed sky.
The drums woke us again the next morning, although they were less dramatic and we dozed for longer before getting up. We breakfasted at the guesthouse: boiled eggs, soft rusks and (sadly not very good) coffee.
Less than an hour later, we were back at the dock searching for a boat to carry us back across the lake. This time, we were not taking the fast ferry, so the options were many. The first boat we found was full of empty beer bottles being transported back to Uganda. Shortly afterwards, however, we found a passenger boat. Before we knew it, someone had found the lost members of our group, everyone had climbed aboard and paid and we were pushing off and leaving behind the village of Kisenyi.
We returned to Kisenyi in the last few days of December. This time we were travelling in style – a friend from Bunia who had inadvertently become our guide drove us through in his car. It was definitely a more comfortable than 45km on a cheap chinese motorbike. We stopped once, along the way, at an accident scene – a large, yellow truck had fallen off the side of the mountain. As one of our group remarked, it was probably a good thing we didn’t see this on our way in. To be fair, the condition of the roads and the vehicles in the eastern DRC is such that accidents are probably not that unusual. Luckily no-one was hurt and, once the photographers were done, we headed on.
The eastern DRC is beautiful and this ride was one of my favourite of the trip. The area around Bunia is cattle country, with rolling hills and wide grassy plains. Travelling to Kisenyi, you drop sharply down the hillside towards the lake. We had driven out of a storm and the storm light turned the hills emerald green. In the distance, running almost parallel to the road, was a series of electricity pylons. Wires hung down forlornly and nothing connects them anymore, but they are a reminder that this place, this area, is not one of perpetual darkness and dispair and hint that this most recent turmoil might be an exception rather than the rule.
Towards Kisenyi, we saw more of the long-horned cows so typical of the area. Months later, I would hear from a colleague the ongoing struggle they have to convince people in east and central Africa to give up their long-horned cows in favour of breeds with better milk and meat production. Those horns certainly are striking.
In Kisenyi, the friend we had driven down with took us back to the little guest-house where we’d stayed which, it turned out, was owned by his sister’s daughter. We left our bags and then headed off to his resort, which, it turned out, is quite a lot like something out of a movie set. We chatted and wrote and relaxed and some of the group did a few interviews before the friend who had driven us down returned to Bunia. Fisherman in boats came and went along the shore. A perfect setting for our last afternoon in the Congo.
We stayed at the resort for dinner. It was more expensive than some of the other places we’d been, but it was pretty good and the sheer joy of fish and chips with cold Primus under a lapa by the lake, while evening fell on Kisenyi was precious.
As we were getting ready to leave, like a final gift after a day of wonderful sights, fireflies appeared. I grew up reading about fireflies in books from other countries. I know we have glow-worms in South Africa but I’d never seen anything like this. I sat on the swing in the warm evening and watch a magical lights show – masses of flickering, pulsing flashes of light against the dark trees and the dark lake and the endless, star-washed sky.
The drums woke us a
We returned to Kisenyi in the last few days of December. This time we were travelling in style – a friend from Bunia who had inadvertently become our guide drove us through in his car. It was definitely a more comfortable than 45km on a cheap chinese motorbike. We stopped once, along the way, at an accident scene – a large, yellow truck had fallen off the side of the mountain. As one of our group remarked, it was probably a good thing we didn’t see this on our way in. To be fair, the condition of the roads and the vehicles in the eastern DRC is such that accidents are probably not that unusual. Luckily no-one was hurt and, once the photographers were done, we headed on.
The eastern DRC is beautiful and this ride was one of my favourite of the trip. The area around Bunia is cattle country, with rolling hills and wide grassy plains. Travelling to Kisenyi, you drop sharply down the hillside towards the lake. We had driven out of a storm and the storm light turned the hills emerald green. In the distance, running almost parallel to the road, was a series of electricity pylons. Wires hung down forlornly and nothing connects them anymore, but they are a reminder that this place, this area, is not one of perpetual darkness and dispair and hint that this most recent turmoil might be an exception rather than the rule.
Towards Kisenyi, we saw more of the long-horned cows so typical of the area. Months later, I would hear from a colleague the ongoing struggle they have to convince people in east and central Africa to give up their long-horned cows in favour of breeds with better milk and meat production. Those horns certainly are striking.
In Kisenyi, the friend we had driven down with took us back to the little guest-house where we’d stayed which, it turned out, was owned by his sister’s daughter. We left our bags and then headed off to his resort, which, it turned out, is quite a lot like something out of a movie set. We chatted and wrote and relaxed and some of the group did a few interviews before the friend who had driven us down returned to Bunia. Fisherman in boats came and went along the shore. A perfect setting for our last afternoon in the Congo.
We stayed at the resort for dinner. It was more expensive than some of the other places we’d been, but it was pretty good and the sheer joy of fish and chips with cold Primus under a lapa by the lake, while evening fell on Kisenyi was precious.
As we were getting ready to leave, like a final gift after a day of wonderful sights, fireflies appeared. I grew up reading about fireflies in books from other countries. I know we have glow-worms in South Africa but I’d never seen anything like this. I sat on the swing in the warm evening and watch a magical lights show – masses of flickering, pulsing flashes of light against the dark trees and the dark lake and the endless, star-washed sky.
The drums woke us again the next morning, although they were less dramatic and we dozed for longer before getting up. We breakfasted at the guesthouse: boiled eggs, soft rusks and (sadly not very good) coffee.
Less than an hour later, we were back at the dock searching for a boat to carry us back across the lake. This time, we were not taking the fast ferry, so the options were many. The first boat we found was one full of empty beer bottles being trasported back to Uganda. Shortly afterwards, however, we found a passenger boat. Before we knew it, someone had found the lost members of our group, everyone had climbed aboard and paid and we were pushing off and leaving behind the village of Kisenyi.
gain the next morning, although they were less dramatic and we dozed for longer before getting up. We breakfasted at the guesthouse: boiled eggs, soft rusks and (sadly not very good) coffee.
Less than an hour later, we were back at the dock searching for a boat to carry us back across the lake. This time, we were not taking the fast ferry, so the options were many. The first boat we found was one full of empty beer bottles being trasported back to Uganda. Shortly afterwards, however, we found a passenger boat. Before we knew it, someone had found the lost members of our group, everyone had climbed aboard and paid and we were pushing off and leaving behind the village of Kisenyi.