Posted June 27, 2022: Africa 2022 is comprised of three “adventures,” one South African cities’ break, and one combination cities-adventure. The first two adventures are over: the Basecamp Explorer safari and the Chimps and Gorillas of Uganda. We’re on our break now—the Joburg/Cape Town break. Each of us has been a little off for a day or two with stomachs and colds, and maybe just a touch of adventure weariness. In two days it’s off on the Garden Tour (of modest adventure-qualities) and then our ten days city-hopping in Morocco.

I’m going to continue to take advantage of my break-time to catch up on blogging. Slept ten hours last night, and am in a much better, more positive, mood. Maybe even enough better to do an uplifting post about Uganda primate life—which seems to be thriving. The main goal in an east-central Ugandan rainforest was to visit one of the forest gorilla families, a subspecies of the Eastern gorilla, of which there are only 1,000 or so remaining in the world.

We flew into Entebbe on a small plane directly from the Kenyan Masai Mara, that gently rolling grassland considered an extension of the famed plains of the Serengeti; it was a lovely flight from wide-open plain to farmland to the vast expanse of Lake Victoria.

Short ride to our charming guesthouse. It’s nice that they all have mosquito nets, but apparently mosquitoes are absent during African winters, haven’t seen one single one. We were two nights in these lodgings owned by Gorilla Tours, the company we’ve booked to go and visit chimpanzees and gorillas in the southern mountains. Sara spent some of her time with the guesthouse’s big dogs, one of whom looked quite like her Kalia back home. This was our first break in ten days from early mornings and afternoons/evenings in the wide-open jeep stalking those famous beasts of the African plains. We slept late in our Entebbe guesthouse, shopped a bit for jungle attire—since we were leaving the plains for the jungle, and slept some more. We felt like old experienced explorers, just briefly touching base with hot showers and internet (never mind our extreme camping comfort).

My friend, Jill, formerly of Albuquerque, and one of the first dance teachers at the North Fourth Art Center, lives in Uganda with her two lovely daughters, teaching at the American school in Kampala. They joined us for a long talky lunch in Entebbe. Of course our conversation strayed to the current miserable political situation in the US; I envied Jill greatly having a second home in Uganda. Not that Uganda’s record on many points is sterling, but at least their national symbol isn’t a gun.

Our coming days would go like this. A day on the road through Uganda, which is actually among the most scenery-rich places I’ve traveled; a day climbing through dense Kibale rainforest searching for one of the 13 communities of chimpanzees; another day on the road to the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest, a large primeval forest in south-western Uganda, and finally a day climbing up the mountainside to connect with one of the gorilla families, whom we would join for an hour, before leaving them for a climb back down the slippery slope of the steeper-than-expected mountains. I should mention right here that the primate denizens of these forests could care less whether we humans are around or not, because our potential less-than-stellar behavior around animals is rigorously monitored by ever-vigilant forest rangers. The fact that we stalk them in small controlled groups for our viewing and photographing pleasure appears to be a matter of intense disinterest on their parts. And here we thought we were so special in the animal world.

So here’s how our visit actually went—almost perfectly. We felt healthy, fortunate to be where we were, and excited to continue our explorations of the animal kingdom. The drives were pretty much as good as road trips ever get: a new part of the world—new sights and sounds, new food; road surfaces from ordinary to as challenging as any vehicle or driver could possibly manipulate. And the days with the apes? Fortunately the walk with the chimps came first. It was intense, in this case on fairly flat land, but thickly tangled with logs and roots and low-growing slippery plants, then bushes, then full of towering trees of every leafy configuration imaginable. And there were the chimpanzees: moms, dads, babies—hanging out, snacking, talking among themselves, just a typical morning on high in the rainforest. It was very fine. I have the photos and the memories to prove it.

There was one small problem for me; my tendency to faint in the heat if I must stand for any length of time. And I’m claustrophobic. And old…okay so maybe too old for chimp walks. But there I was, not quite fainting, taking pictures, not quite fainting yet, helped by a guide to just the right sitting-log, making it out without embarrassing myself inordinately. When I was asked my age, and my companions found out I was 83, I was commended by the admiring throngs for being so brave and strong (undoubtedly muttering under their breath about little old crones who don’t know when to stay home). But hey, I did it with a very small amount of inconvenience to others…and I never have to do it again.

We finished the day with a few hours walking in the Bigodi Wetland Sanctuary, an authentic jungle swamp. I’ve always loved swamps, as we had our very own on our Minnesota land which always seemed quite jungly to me: dark scrawny spruce and balsam and willow, deep green velvety moss, and the orchid-like lady slippers. Bigodi was not as dark and spooky as our Minnesota version, in fact a down-right friendly swamp with its own dense tree-cover, ponds brightly shimmering with water lilies, and bordered with fields of tall corn

But ahead lay the gorilla visit. JUST THE PREVIEW IN HERE. SARA WILL OFFER THE ON THE GROUND EXPERIENCE IN THE NEXT POST. It would take place up a steep slope with the same kind of rainforest growth in which the chimps thrive…and where I would be accompanied by heat, slippery slopes, old age, claustrophobia, COPD, and desperation concerning when would it be over. Be a grown-up, Marjorie, I said. You know you must bow out of this particular adventure. So I gracefully did. Only a few minutes of feeling sorry for myself as Sara and Celia left for their gorilla visit. A couple of tears shed on behalf of me and old people everywhere. Then I looked out over the misty mountainside of the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest in Uganda on the enormous magical continent of Africa…and contemplated how very lucky I was to be right there that very moment. Old age is difficult to come to grips with but I needed to ‘pull up my big girl pants’ as the expression goes and shed not one more tear. So I ate my banana pancakes, wrote in my journal about what constitutes good fortune in one’s declining years, and took a happy pill.

Sara and Celia did brilliantly, 70-year-old Celia taking the easiest route, Sara the moderate course, but they were generally similar in difficulty, one perhaps a little shorter. The ladies were both tired but mobile the next day, and as proud of themselves as indeed they should be. It turned out I was way more proud of them than jealous…how very wise and grown-up of me, I thought.

Some final shots from Uganda. And then it was back to Entebbe, another night in our cozy guesthouse, and on to Joburg.