Reflections of Rwanda

Days in the country      6

Actual days riding        4

Distance ridden           390 miles (624km)

Despite my desire to always turn up at a border looking respectable, I had yet again managed to arrive at the border looking and feeling as if I’d slept in a ditch, which as it happens I had.

The road out of Tanzania had climbed steeply for miles and by the time I reached the border I was completely out of water, felt awful and was cold, surprisingly cold.

This was central Africa for heavens sake; it was supposed to be flaggingly hot, humid, uncomfortable and home to a multitude of voracious things that lurked in the impenetrable forest, this is where the gorillas lived, wasn’t it.

It should have been a place where I could be surprised by the odd slightly bewildered explorer crashing breathlessly out of the undergrowth shouting, “holy shit did you see the size of that!”

But no, I was bloody cold, had a tee shirt shoved into my cycling shorts as I had a boil the size of a walnut in my groin, and had been climbing all day.

This was certainly not what I had expected. I was at altitude, I was high up, and looking across the border I could see the first Rwandan town I’d have to pass through 2000 feet above me, and not a gorilla or explorer in sight. Perhaps it was the size of my crotch that had kept the gorillas at bay, 

“ He’s a big lad, better lie low, we don’t want to tangle with that” I could imagined them saying.

The border crossing went without a hitch; I had the usual “You’ve come from where?”

 “On that bicycle?”

 “Oh yeah, tell me another one,” type of response, the view round these parts is that it is scientifically and probably physically impossible to ride a bike further than the next village. Ride across countries, you must be joking!

And so it was that I left the customs area still smarting over the lack of gorillas and explorers and was nearly killed.

“Hello, this is more like it”, I thought. Only the reality wasn’t nearly as romantic as the notion of being crushed to death by an infatuated gorilla, I was nearly run over by a bloody taxi.

A taxi closely followed by a truck then a bus and finally a bicycle. “What the hell is going on here?” I though, as I continued to climb the ridiculously steep hill.

Rwanda, what did I know about Rwanda?  Not a lot, apart from the fact that in the early nineties as a nation they had fallen upon each other and had began slashing and hacking with such vigor and enthusiasm that they had acquired membership of a group of countries that have the sorry distinction of having committed genocide.

Having survived this horror, one would have thought that just the mention of the word conflict would have brought them out onto the streets in protest, but no, not these guys.

They then got involved in the Congo and sponsored an uprising that resulted in the death of 5 million people.

Clearly these were people you didn’t want to fuck with.

Given this track record I had decided very early on in the game to be extremely careful not to antagonize or piss any of them off, as this was serious form.

After having ridden on the wrong side of the road I realized that it fell, with out question into “the pissing off and antagonizing” category. I was going to have to be far more observant and careful in the future.

As I passed through the various towns and villages on my way to the capital Kigali, I was struck by how ordered and well maintained the place was. All along the roads were proper houses, not huts or shacks, they all had fences or walls and the majority had tended gardens, which was the first time I’d seen this since South Africa.

In the towns and villages the business areas consisted of well-constructed shops, the streets were wide had streetlights and proper pavements.

This country was very different to all the others I had visited.

As I rode through a small neat and tidy town I passed a Primary school that was obviously on break as all the children were out playing on the field.

Riding past and in an effort to make amends for riding on the wrong side of the road, I waved, only to have the entire playground empty and start running down the road after me, there must have been at least 300 kids.

It didn’t take long to realize that if I didn’t do something quick, some of these kids were going to get hurt, as there was a fair amount of traffic. And if that were to happen it would definitely fall firmly into the “pissing off and antagonizing” category, so I stopped and was immediately mobbed by a multitude of small smiling kids.

“Good morning, how are you?” they inquired.

‘A bit surprised, I must admit, I was not expecting this type of reception”, I replied.

 “Good morning, how are you?” they repeated.

“Yes, good morning, I’m good, how are you guys?” I asked.

“Good morning, how are you?” they all sang.

“Aaah, I think I’m starting to get it,” I said.

“Good morning, how are you?” they repeated.

“ A bit worried about getting my arse pinned if anything happens to any of you little bastards,” I said, watching the third taxi bowl through them.

“Good morning, how are you?” they shouted in unison, really warming to this conversation lark.

“Holy shit!”

“ Good Morn…..”

“Shut up, are you all trying to get killed?” I shouted.

The whole situation was getting completely out of hand, cars and bikes were forcing their way through the crowd, it was absolute mayhem.

“ Hang on, remember you’re the adult here, you need to sort this mess out,” A small voice in my head said.

“Good morning, how are you?” responded hundreds of beaming little faces.

“ Bugger me!”

“ Come on, back to school,” I shouted turning round and riding back towards the school.

“ Good morning, how are you?” came the enthusiastic reply.

The headmaster, who had no doubt been wondering why things had gone so quiet, had ambled out to investigate only to find, to his absolute horror, an empty playground.

You could just imagine him pacing up and down scratching his head thinking, field trip, are they all on a field trip, I would surely have remembered something like that, wouldn’t I?

Field trip!! This is sodding Africa we don’t do field trips, where the hell are they?

It was at this point that like the pied piper, rather than leading his school away; I appeared with his jubilant school in tow.

“I don’t know how to fully explain what has happened here,” I blurted out to the pacing Head Master.

“ Good morning, how are you?” came the gleeful response.

“ Oh, for fuck sake!” I exclaimed totally exasperated.

“ I beg your pardon?”  replied the headmaster, his eyes widening……

This happened frequently, for some reason these children liked running after whites on bicycles, I dubbed it ‘The land of the running children’ and it wasn’t to try and beg either.

When I finally reached Kigali I was shocked and stunned. This was not what I was expecting, it was not like any African city I’d ever seen, and I include South Africa here. For a start it appeared to be almost brand new, there were large parks; all the central reservations on the wide roads had well manicured gardens. The traffic lights had big LED boards that counted down the seconds till the lights changed, the cat’s-eyes on the roads were solar powered, yes solar powered so they flashed at night. The buildings were all modern and well built; there was mile after mile of brand new luxury housing estates of the standard that even our spoiled premiership footballers would have had no issue living in. There were huge shopping malls; all the international companies and banks were represented there. There was every conceivable type of restaurant. There were more police on duty than I’ve seen anywhere. It was an absolutely amazing place. I felt as if I’d somehow landed on another planet.

I looked for the cheapest hotel I could find, which was difficult as this was a very expensive place. All the room rates are quoted in US dollars and not Rwandan franks, which tells you something, the best I could find was $60 for a night, so I checked in. The general standard of the service, food and the building was world class. I was staggered. Apart from all of this, the biggest surprise was how genuinely friendly everyone was. People were polite, helpful, and happy to go out of their way for you. Another thing that struck me was just how attractive a lot of their woman are, they are very fine featured and have a certain bearing about them. Kigali is Africa’s best-kept secret.

I had entered Rwanda from the East and was now headed North towards Uganda, Kigali is in a huge valley so I was climbing again, the further away from the city I got the more the place changed, it was becoming more and more like the Africa I knew. By the time I was back in the clouds I was coming across villages of mud huts, no wide streets here, I was without doubt back in Africa, these people were desperately poor, they were no different from the rest of the subsistence farmers on the continent. How could this be I wondered, how could you have a place like Kigali and all the lovely towns and villages I’d passed in the East in the same country as this? That evening I stopped at a lodge and I asked the owner about the difference. This huge disparity was one of the main reasons for the genocide he told me. He went on to say that these people who lived here were starting to stir again as nothing had changed for them. When they looked at the people in the towns and cities and saw how well they were doing, it was making them very angry. Sobering thought.

Rwanda in my mind has Africa’s friendliest people, it’s a great place, and my only hope is that they manage to channel some of their success into the countryside. The genocide of 1994 is deeply etched into the fabric of their society, and when meeting you they never fail to mention it, always adding how great this peace is. It’s a great place with great people, and virtually no begging.

Marks out of 10

A strong 9

Punctures

None!