Intrepid Travel Gorillas & Game Parks - review and advice

Keep in mind that the Intrepid Game Parks and Gorillas tour I did in November 2017 is unlikely to be offered in the same format in future since Rwanda, having already doubled the price of a gorilla permit this year, is rumoured to be planning further increases. They know there’s a demand, and they’re going for the upper end of the market (they already have a permanently-full lodge there that costs USD3,000 per night – a staggering sum by African standards).

But I can give you an idea of what it’ll probably be like to do the new-version Intrepid tour to view the gorillas from the Ugandan side. So will the website’s Trip Notes, which pull no punches and warn about long days on bad roads in an un-airconditioned truck, variable toilet/shower facilities, putting up your own tent, and chipping in with the chores.

In reality, it’s even more rugged than that. The truck – which, to the credit of its carer – didn’t break down or even get a flat tyre, is rough, battered and pretty irritating in a number of ways. Even simply the steps into it: all different heights, just made to catch you out. Despite the big sign about fastening seatbelts, they’re all dodgy: either too loose or too tight, the buckles sometimes too stiff to use, at least one clip missing. The seats are padded, but not adequately for African bumps, so it’s a good idea to sit on a rolled-up mattress. That’s also helpful to lift shorter folk like me high enough up to see over the intensely annoying window-pane edging and reinforcing bar which are exactly at eye level. Further, the window glass is old and dirty, covered in tiny grains of whatever that make it impossible to wash them clean (I tried). When the prime reason for your being here is to see the country, I reckon that’s unforgivable. So a lot of time, the windows were down (they’re arranged horizontally) – but only if your neighbours behind are ok with the draught. It’s really frustrating for photographers. Having said all that, other companies use the same trucks, so it’s not purely an Intrepid feature. The main necessity is for the vehicle to be able to cope with the challenging roads, which ours did – it’s hard to imagine a fancier bus making it unscathed along this route.

The tents are sturdy, straightforward to erect and offer good protection from rain (as long as you remember to zip up your windows, sigh) – but they are heavy to haul around, and the clips that hold them to the metal frame can be really stiff and hard to operate. Some are better than others. Inside, it’s a snug fit if you’re sharing, and you won’t be able to store much gear in there – safer to use the truck’s lockers, anyway. On this tour, the maximum number is 16 (gorilla visiting parties are limited to 8) so, since the truck seats 22, there are surplus mattresses in the locker – thus it’s possible, by stealth or negotiation, to use two, which is much more comfortable.

The campsites varied a lot, but the common feature for most was disappointing facilities: we had, variously, no water, cold water, muddy water and, now and then, lots of nice hot water. Take wet wipes. There was, on the other hand, free wifi more often than not, although usually pretty slow of course. There were often upgrades available, into dormitories or rooms, and the prices were usually pretty reasonable though it does add up. That doesn’t, by the way, guarantee you good facilities – some of them had no bathrooms, and others were just as challenging, light- and water-wise, as for the campers. One, though, was enviably luxurious.

The food was substantial and healthy although fairly monotonous: lots of salads and vegetables, stews of various sorts, and fruit for dessert. It did, though, get pretty boring by the end, and though the veges were tasty, the stews were invariably on the tough side. To our cook’s credit though – and due in large part to his authoritarian manner re hygiene, no-one developed anything inconvenient over the entire 16 days. We all took our turns, according to the rota, at preparing the vegetables, and washing up dishes and pots (also, sweeping/mopping out the truck daily). The system was good, and efficient, and flapping (the dishes dry) soon became second nature.

As far as equipment is concerned, don’t stint on your sleeping bag, because it does get cold at night in some places along the route. Some people even brought proper pillows, which were comfy both at night and in the truck. Be prepared for your body, clothes and shoes to get dirty and stained orange with Africa's dust/mud. Leave the good stuff at home, and your standards. Wear things multiple times, don’t worry about clashing patterns, or buying up Kathmandu. Just have something beige/green for the gorilla day. Game drives don’t matter because you’re tucked inside the truck. A head torch is essential. For the gorilla trek, boots are a bit over the top – most people managed fine with trainers, and some appreciated gaiters because those big stinging nettles they have there in the jungle are truly vicious and can bite through fabric. If I ever did it again, though, I would wear gumboots/Wellingtons like the guides do – as long as they have soles with good grip, you’ll be fine, and they’re so much easier to wash the mud off after. I really wished I’d brought my Hunters.

The optional activities added some variety to the trip. The chimpanzees were a universal disappointment: because of cool weather they stayed way up in the tree tops, so that was $70 pretty much wasted. The boat cruise in QE National Park was really good, with lots of hippos and birds. I recommend the horse ride at Jinja – lovely horses and a good guide, and you needn't be experienced. Other people enjoyed the white-water rafting and quad-biking there, though some of them were relieved when it was over.

More than anything else, though – and this here is a counsel of perfection that, personally, I fell short of - you need to make sure you bring along quantities of patience and tolerance, and a sense of humour. Travelling in a biggish group of strangers, you’ll be tested in many ways. Try to stay positive and concentrate on the good bits, and rise above the irritations. The gorillas will be worth it, I promise.

Final verdict: I’m glad I went, though there were a couple of serious disappointments. Our guide Edwin was useless and didn’t tell us any more than he needed to and sometimes not even that, sitting silently down the back of the truck day after day. Someone more forthcoming would have enriched the experience immeasurably. But the other guys, Ben the driver and OT the cook, were excellent and professional and did a great job. Retracing so much of the route after the gorillas seemed kind of a waste but I don’t know if it’s possible, road-condition-wise, to do a circle route. I was prepared for it to be rugged, and was resigned to a monotonous menu, so that didn’t matter. The gorillas were exactly as promised, super-special and worth the money and effort. The cavalcade of African life past the windows every day meant even those long, long days on the road were fascinating and never boring. I never felt unsafe and, Edwin apart, everything else was professionally organised and reliable. I think you should do it. Even the rough stuff will give you great stories to tell back home.

Intrepid Travel Gorillas & Game Parks - Day 12

We were back to Intrepid-normal with a vengeance this morning: up at 4.30am for a 6am departure. We wound our way up out of the valley and down the other side, leaving the volcanoes behind. Ed warned those of us “afraid of long drops” not to sit on the left. By now we’re all pretty inured to the horrors of the long drop – but of course he meant the steep hillsides that, even so, were intensively cultivated with all sorts of luxuriant crops.

Everyone was going to work, or already at it: the woman plodding up a steep track with a baby on her back, a load on her head and a mattock in her hand; the men sawing a log lengthwise the old-fashioned way, one above and one below; or washing their motorbikes in a stream; or hacking at a rock face and scraping off minerals to shovel into heaps; or builders standing on precarious wooden scaffolding.

There was less work happening in the immigration office, when we got to the border, and a long line outside it, but we were eventually recorded and stamped, and set off again switching back to drive on the left. We had a photo stop – only about the third in the whole trip – with a long view down to Lake Bunyoni over more terraces, as well as some goats and now, again, the long-horned cattle they prize here.

We had an audience of only three boys and four cattle at our lunch stop, so, hardly awkward at all. We really shuddered at the litter all around though, so noticeable again after the neatness of Rwanda. Such a shame.

Then we carried on, the roadshow continuing: bricks and blocks being moulded by hand, stacked in the sun to dry, and fired inside tomb-like kilns; villages all with the same set of windowless stores, selling food and vegetables, plastic goods, wooden beds, padded chairs, metal doors, and workshops repairing bicycles and motorbikes, welding things, making wooden doors. Oh, and pubs with pool tables under thatched shelters.

We passed back through Mbarara and after 250km and more than 9 hours from departure got to our accommodation for the night. It's a pretty fancy hotel with rooms that anyone would be happy to stay in, and in which, apparently and in our recent experience unusually, everything seems to work as it should. Not for us hard-core campers, though, eschewing the upgrade and pitching our tents on an appealingly soft and tidy lawn. The main shower, some distance away, had flies and beetles crawling all around the basin; and the other unisex ones in a line nearby didn’t have any sort of door or curtain. They eventually found some to hang up – but they didn’t sort out the hot water. Still, the day was sticky enough for that not to matter.

And so we ended the day in the usual manner: a beer in the bar until dinner was ready, which we ate under a big pergola while Ed gave us tomorrow’s briefing. It’s a 7am departure tomorrow. Cushy.

Intrepid Travel Gorillas & Game Parks - Day 11

Today we had the luxury of waking up naturally – but, frustratingly, it turns out my brain has now been trained to switch on at 5.30am – since our activities began at a civilised hour. First there was breakfast which today was banana pancakes and millet porridge (which is greyish but surprisingly fruity in taste).

Then Lucky met five of us for a village tour. The first surprise was that we were taken there not in the car we expected, but on motorbike taxis. We strapped on the compulsory helmets (one size, unadjustable strap, visor) – “or you go to prison” said Lucky – and set off along what is still the novelty of well-maintained streets. It was fun to be a proper part of the roadshow instead of insulated from it in our huge truck; and I was really impressed by the petrol stop at a little shop where a woman rushed out with a water bottle full of petrol, which she upended into the tank. Done and paid for in one minute.

We walked up a stony, muddy track towards the village which Lucky is cultivating as a community project. He’s a university student looking for other employment after teaching in a school for a year and not getting paid (a remarkably common experience here). He told us about the pyrethrum daisy crop, for insect repellent, and the Irish potatoes, and maize and eucalyptus, and then we got to the mud hut where a couple demonstrated grinding herbs in a tub and pestle, and weaving a beehive (and we also saw a chameleon in a hedge). We went into their house to sit on a traditional bed, made of split bamboo padded with eucalyptus leaves, just like he grew up with.

They don’t always use the word ‘genocide’ here, but that’s what they mean when they talk about ‘previously’ and ‘now’. The point this time was that guest rooms like this one would have been shelters for people walking through the area, given freely in the expectation of the favour being paid forward – but now it’s all about money.

Then we were treated to a proper concert of energetic singing and dancing to a single drum by residents of the village. Everyone not taking part was gathered to watch, a toddler insisted on joining in, the performers were having a great time, and everyone enjoyed the joke of the two men doing a pretend drunk dance. There was weaving, books were presented, we saw sorghum ground and turned into ‘bread’ (hot paste) and then we departed, happy that 75% of our pretty reasonable fee was being returned to the community (who are currently delighted about getting solar panels for 6 hours of light a night). Lucky’s website is www.rwandatreasuretours.com if you’re interested.

Back at the hotel (by car this time) we rashly ordered lunch at the rooftop bar. Pizzas for the others, a croque monsieur for me. How long do you reckon? Only the hour and a quarter to deliver. TIA.

Not far from the hotel is the Dian Fossey Museum, which explains everything you could want to know about gorillas as well as telling the story of her work with them, and its encouraging results. Her desk is on display, as well as a resin gorilla skeleton next to a human one, which was interesting. For once the story of mountain gorillas is encouraging, their numbers increasing steadily – but there are still only 400 or so, and they’re vulnerable to human disease. So don’t go to see them if you’re sick.

We wandered back to the hotel by the route touristique, through the town, past the shops, through the market, and into a ‘modern’ mall with gorillas outside, where the top floors were occupied by men and women crouched over treadle Singer sewing machines, all crowded together in dim light, buzzing away making a variety of garments.

With a degree of triumph, we found our way back to the hotel, satisfied with our little adventure – and also with the exercise (although for many of us not really with tonight's dinner, which was African-style, spinach and beans, eaten along the veranda with the rain coming down). Tomorrow, we’re up before dawn for another day back on the truck.

Intrepid Travel Gorillas & Game Parks - Day 10

Today was the day we were all waiting for – the main reason for our all choosing this particular Intrepid tour, and what’s kept us going through some frustrations and discomfort along the way. We headed off at 6.20am after a particularly sustaining breakfast, driving to the gorilla trekking centre outside the town. There we said which tour we wanted – easy, medium, hard – and there was a bit of number juggling. Then we all waited, fizzing with impatience, and also adjusting our gear.

We’ve had a lot of rain lately – it is the rainy season – some of it very heavy, and we were apprehensive about the muddy climb up through the jungle to where each groups’ assigned gorilla family was expected to be (trackers, er, keep track of them). I strapped on gaiters for the first time in my life.

Our assigned guides took each group away for a briefing in the garden. Most of our tour had elected for a medium trek, and our guide was Francis, with 20 years’ experience. He described our gorilla family, called Amahoro, its 15 year-old silverback, Gahinga, the dominant male. We could hope to see 19 gorillas.

And then we set off, up into the hills deep into farming country – the volcanic soil here is dark and clearly enviably fertile, the crops of potatoes, beans, maize and pyrethrum looking lush and healthy. We passed kids going off to school and younger ones waving energetically and shouting ‘Hello!’ as we passed. Guys on bikes hung with yellow plastic containers toiled along: the banana beer delivery service. The road got really bumpy and then finally we were at the end, and piled out, keen to get hiking.

Following huge furrows past tethered sheep and cows, we came to the wall of the Ruhengeri National Park, and climbed over it to start the trek proper. The jungle was surprisingly quiet and bird-free (compared with the Amazon) but we were busy anyway watching our footing on the slithery bits, glad to have been given carved poles to use, and taking care not to brush up against the fiercely vicious stinging nettles they have here. The gaiters were good protection, from them and also the mud, by the way.

We wound up for about 90 minutes, the guides getting updates by radio from the trackers – and then, quite suddenly, it was time. We took off our packs with our lunches in, left our sticks behind, and took just our cameras deeper into the bush, pushing and scrambling through bamboo and bushes, someone cutting a way for us with a machete.

And there they were: eight gorillas, right there, much closer to us than the official 7 metres. Like, just two metres. The silverback was sprawled out on his back, snoozing, the younger blackbacks and females lay in a heap together with younger ones, resting and grooming each other, while a mischievous baby explored around the edges. None of them took any notice of or interest in us, although they were of course aware of us. This is one of the park’s habituated families, who are used to seeing humans appear for an hour almost every day. They probably think we’re just a weird oddly varied kind of species who talk in whispers and make constant clicking sounds.

The silverback woke up, looked at us unimpressed, appeared to give us the finger, and slowly moved away to feed. The baby did forward and backward rolls, explored things to eat, copied an older gorilla who climbed up some bamboo, swinging till it crashed down, and generally behaved like any curious kid. One bigger gorilla way up in a tree had an elevated poop. After a bit, they all went deeper into the bush to feed, and eventually we lost sight of them, not quite having had our full hour. We didn’t mind, though – everyone was thrilled to have got so close to them and to have seen, in the end, about a dozen gorillas of all ages. Besides, we could hear thunder rumbling around the edges of the valley and it felt like time to go.

So we headed off back down and out of the jungle into the farmland again, to be taken to a souvenir shop for our official certificates; and then back to the hotel. Where, of course, we found the others, who had elected for the tough hike, had found their gorillas within 20 minutes, all 21 of them including two silverbacks and twin babies. One girl even had a young gorilla grab her leg. And then they got back before us, and scored all the bragging rights.

Never mind. We had a perfectly satisfying gorilla encounter, which was wonderfully special and up close, and we feel lucky to have had an experience that most people can only imagine. Apart from David Attenborough, of course.

Intrepid Travel Gorillas & Game Parks - Day 9

Perversely, for the first time in a week I had an ensuite and I didn’t use it in the night. What a wasted opportunity. But it was so nice to be in a proper bed, that I slept right through (apart from a brief interlude when it sounded as though a duck was being strangled right outside my window).

We made packed lunches today, using stale white bread that no-one was impressed with; but at least had breakfast in the hotel – where the juice on the buffet was labelled ‘Fresh Passion’. Always a good way to start the day. There was a TV on the wall showing a lecture by an economist, who was writing notes on a blackboard using chalk, which seemed a nice little contrast of media.

Not far from the hotel was the border crossing to Rwanda, which was a straightforward matter of queuing and passport stamping – except with the extra requirement on the Rwanda side that we had to present our bags for inspection, to make sure we weren’t carrying any plastic bags. They banned plastic carriers 30 years ago – a stunningly forward-thinking move that puts the rest of the world to shame – and some were indeed found amongst our group, despite earlier warnings (not me, natch).

Then we set off for Kigali, Rwanda’s capital city. En route there were green terraced hills – Rwanda is ‘The country of 1000 hills’ – and miles of tea plantations dotted with villages where children waved enthusiastically at the truck and their parents were in neat Sunday best: especially tall elegant women in colourful gowns and matching headscarfs. So far Rwanda seems more orderly than Uganda: motorbike helmets compulsory, the road better made and edged, proper pavements. The bicycle seems the preferred (possibly only affordable) mode of transport, for carrying people, milk, firewood, all sorts – so fast down the hills that the truck was sometimes unable to overtake.

Then we got to the Kigali Genocide Memorial, which was a professionally-presented record of the before, during and after of the 1994 genocide that for so long was just a brief item in the international news. Up close and personal, it was stunningly horrific, and the exhibition pulls no punches. It’s controlled, but passionate, and the many personal testimonies, in writing and on video, are confronting and desperately sad. There was a separate room for an overview of some other genocides (“not enough room for them all”) including Armenia, Serbia, Cambodia and of course the Holocaust – to the presumed resignation of the German tourists going through with us.

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And then we were on the road again, fortunately only briefly halted by a beer truck in the gutter, heading to our accommodation for the next three nights while we concentrate on why everybody chose to come on this tour: the mountain gorillas. How that's going to work we have as yet no idea: all I know is that it's an efficient business. Time will tell.

We arrived at our neat hotel/hostel/campsite where we will be in dormitories for a change. There was a walk around the town visiting a variety of ATMs, with a variety of success, and a quick look at the market which seems worth another visit. The pavements were busy with, amongst others, beautifully dressed guests on their way to a reception, curious kids, and chatty young men keen to extract our email addresses. The younger generations speak English: it's been the language of instruction since 2007 when it was changed from French to fit in with the other East African countries. The older folk do still speak French, though, which is fun to hear.

Then it rained, hard, and we ended the day as usual, with beer, a briefing and dinner (meatballs tonight) - and all fingers crossed for fine weather and a gorilla trek tomorrow.