An experience of a lifetime

An experience of a lifetime........

A trek to see the threatened Mountain Gorillas. Worth every penny spent - well actually, it costs a bit more than a penny! If you enjoy watching primates in their natural environment, as I do, then you will want to experience this almost indescribable event......

Fly to Uganda or Rwanda.

As a writer and adventurer, I like to experience situations that are unique. I want to put myself into predicaments outside of regular life and feel the inner vibrations and what narrative they stir within. Sitting up close to a male Mountain Silverback was one of those experiences.

Weighing in at over four hundred pounds, I knew, without any shadow of a doubt, if I didn't just sit quietly, he could pick me up like a rag doll and toss me down the side of the mountain - from where I had just climbed! I could hear the beat of my heart as I sat down and peered through the leaves of the bush I was nestled close to. I could feel his eyes on me. I could feel his energy. I could smell him close and I could hear him moving in closer. Today there was no mist. Today the air was cool and clear. I wanted him to move in right beside me. I wanted to feel truly humbled, and ultimately blessed to be so close to these magnificent primates. My breathing slowed and, like the tingle of a new life within, my tummy fluttered with excitement. I could sense he meant me no harm, and then I sensed more movement. Ahead of me was the male, and darting in to join him was a curious youngster: it also wanted to investigate this clothed cousin sitting in the bush! The young, fearless gorilla came right up to me, grasped my blonde hair in his padded hand and fiddled. Gooseflesh rose and tingled down my spine and arms. My eyes wanted to look up at his dear little face, but I kept focused on my feet and the grass I was sitting on. I suddenly realised I was smiling - no selfie this time! Darn! At a moment like this! My lesson in the moment was the art of quiet body language and soft eyes and I gorged on the delights of his presence. Then the male grunted and stood up, right beside me. My sphincter clamped as never before, adrenaline coursed through my veins. I didn't move. I couldn't move! I was trying to slowly and calmly breathe, revel in the experience as this massive primate towered over me. I didn't dare look up, though I was so tempted to. Then he shifted, I thought he was going to step on me but he pulled at the branches, cleared them away and lowered himself onto the grass beside me. The youngster took off, back to the protection of his mother. We sat together for what seemed an age, but the guide, who was not far off, said the male gorilla was beside me, gazing at me for about four or five minutes. He never reached out to touch me, sadly.

When he wandered off I knew I would never experience a situation more humbling than that.

The next primates to visit was another trek through a magnificent ancient protected indigenous forest. An exquisite walk beneath a dense canopy above, but not as steep as the climb to be with the tranquil Gorilla, enchanting, nonetheless. Massive buttress roots hold up indigenous trees as old as six hundred years. The forest floor is alive with butterflies and insects, mushrooms, unknown fungi and a delightful garden of ferns and orchids. You could be forgiven thinking you are in a fairyland until the Chimpanzee screams, and then everything happens. The forest comes alive and everything scapers. Birds take flight, small antelope hide, and smaller primates disappear as fast as they can: it is a whole different atmosphere. Even the butterflies freeze in flight. It's fearful, alarming, deafening but exciting at the same time, yet you know, a soulful meeting of gentle primates is not about to take place. Our closest relatives are aggressive and protective of their domain. They have been hunted by us for centuries, distributing them to the pet trade where they live in a state of permanent terror. Now, those left in the wild refuse to be habituated. Their screams and shrieks evoked a deep sadness in me. I could not blame them for their resistance and flight as they looked down upon us. They know humans. They instinctively know their relatives, us, are predators of the worst sort and the troop took flight with alarming noise and speed.

I left the area, happy to know the guardians of not only the forests in which these remarkable primates live but also the animals themselves, were safe. And, I can only hope that one day my grandchildren will have the pleasure of visiting these amazing creatures.