The other weekend, my roommate, Stephanie and I decided to drive up north. She wanted to see the gorillas, and I, not ready to spend $500 on them, was going to hike to the top of Mount Bisoke (more on that later!). We borrowed a friend’s huge old red land cruiser, which rattled wildly at ever bump in the road, and headed off on Friday afternoon, Our friend had forgotten to leave his map in the car, but armed with what some vague directions from a friend, Stephanie and I headed blithely up north. The countryside in Rwanda is beautiful and we were enjoying the feeling of being two women taking charge of our freedom in Africa (not something we take for granted). It is very rare that you will see women driving, let along two foreign women driving such a massive car without a Rwandese guide or driver with them. But the fun came to an abrupt halt as we reached the border of Uganda and we realized we had taken the wrong road!
The roads in Rwanda are good, if you stick to the five main ones that spread outwards from
Kigali, but if you want to get between those main roads, things look pretty grim. However, Steph and I, intreprid female nomads that we are, were not phased. The little road that joined us to the road we wanted to take was a mere dirt track winding up and down the mountains and without and map or signs. It was quite an adventure at every fork in the road when we’d have to stop, pull down the window and try to interpret various hand movements through a combination of Steph and I’s meagre Kirwanda, and Swahili.
A two hour trip turned into six hours. But taking the road much less travelled was a terrific opportunity to see the beautiful landscape and interact with some villagers who could not have been sweeter to two foreign women taking a road trip in Rwanda.
The roads in Rwanda are good, if you stick to the five main ones that spread outwards from
Kigali, but if you want to get between those main roads, things look pretty grim. However, Steph and I, intreprid female nomads that we are, were not phased. The little road that joined us to the road we wanted to take was a mere dirt track winding up and down the mountains and without and map or signs. It was quite an adventure at every fork in the road when we’d have to stop, pull down the window and try to interpret various hand movements through a combination of Steph and I’s meagre Kirwanda, and Swahili.A two hour trip turned into six hours. But taking the road much less travelled was a terrific opportunity to see the beautiful landscape and interact with some villagers who could not have been sweeter to two foreign women taking a road trip in Rwanda.
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