Days 6-17: Kenya, Uganda and Rwanda

The undoubted highlight so far has been the gorilla trekking in the mountains of Ruhengeri, Rwanda. The day was a mix of frustration and elation.

The climb to see the gorillas is about 2.5 hours uphill, tracking through farms, mud and over rocks so it's fairly hard going. unfortunately I was grouped with an older Uruguayan couple, who were woefully prepared for the trip. A 5 hour return mountain hike, culminating in a half hour slog through thick rainforest packed with biting insects, stinging nettles and whipping cords of vine, and they show up in tennis shoes, 3/4 pants and without any water. I'm keen to hoof it to the top, but we have to stop every quarter hour so they can catch up.

When we finally reach the rainforest (which is now limited to a small pocket at the top of the mountains due to encroaching farms) we have a very slow pass to the gorilla nest. Even with trackers clearing the way, it's slow going as the vegetation is unbelievably thick.

But then we are in a clearing where the plants have been crushed flat- gorillas! The first thing I see is the male silverback- leader of the family. His size is amazing. Head the size of a mini-bar, arms like tree trunks and a massive gut which he uses to lean forward and rest himself on while he eats. I suddenly feel very small. The gorilla flares his nostrils, inclines his head slightly, and goes back to his munching. I relax a bit.

After the initial shock of seeing him, I begin to take it all in. The colours are stunning. The gorilla is jet black, with a glossy coat and matte face, and he is framed by the brilliant green of the jungle. There's only 2 colours, but it's the richest visual experience I've ever had.

An hour later and I've seen the rest of the family- another silverback, females and their young. Magic.

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One thing I never tire of is gazing out the truck window and watching the landscape and the people change as we drive across Africa. Waving to the children is endlessly entertaining, especially those who jump up and down with excitement as you pass, alternatively shouting 'hello', 'mzungu!' or 'how are you'. The latter not so much an enquiry as an exclamation to be shouted over and over.

There seems to be an age, around 8 or 9, where the kids stop waving, and become like the adults, who sit there regarding you with stoney faced scepticism, or at best a humourless curiousity. The adults are either working ridiculously hard- a woman ploughing a field with a baby strapped to her back, or sweeping a dusty forecourt with a handful of leaves- or are doing nothing at all.

These people are expressionless- the empty faces of the terminally unemployed, the hopelessly unengaged. There's not even a look of boredom, as boredom is the emotion of someone who is used to being entertained, or expects something to happen. They're simply passing the time.