The wonders of Kisoro

Feb 22, 2017

Traveling there after five years was a revelation of how things have changed for the better.

Kisoro in Luganda means an animal with an l instead of the R before the letter O at the end. Travelling there after five years was a revelation of how things have changed for the better.

Not only the spine chilling roads snaking their way up. The profiles of guests tracking gorillas are moneyed and the volume of business is humongous.

 iss ourism igezi gnes simere  cat walks at racker afari odge swimming pool  hoto by itus akembo Miss Tourism Kigezi Agnes Asimere cat walks at Tracker Safari Lodge swimming pool. Photo by Titus Kakembo
 



You guessed right. It was my maiden gorilla tracking adventure. I wore my Moccasins, faded jeans trousers and Karimojong sheet knotted by the shoulder blade. And when I penetrated the Impenetrable Bwindi Forest, the chill revenged as temperature decided to drop.

For this treat, tourists dig in their wallets for $600 to watch huge primates for just sixty minutes. Come nightfall and they stare at the stars, moon and listen to the trees whisper as the winds blow carelessly. Kisoro now boast a variety of places to reside in. The price tags dance between sh30, 000-sh2m per night.



Wait a minute. I sampled Trackers which is a grass thatched structure in advanced degrees of completion. There is a swimming pool. The landscape of a green canopy grabs the eye for keeps after sipping a glass of tropical juice wets at the reception. The architecture would make the Ethiopians and Egyptians spin in their graves with discomfort.

Do not ask me if the dreams I had in these beds were in 3D format, color or black and white. Because after tracking the gorillas, real life horror movie, I heard myself squeal in my sleep. But the warm bed with milk white bed sheets was there to calm me down before resorting to watching television.

It is time every Ugandan got on their heels to dash to Kisoro for domestic tourism. The food is organic. The panoramic landscape is any painter’s dream come true. You might stumble on the Batwa, Bakiga and Congolese people rubbing shoulders with ear to ear smiles.

I met tourists with length lenses on their cameras that made mine pretty shy.  Size does not matter. I consoled myself. Enturire a locally brewed beer is silky to the tongue.  It makes the feet jiggy wiggy. And honey coats the tongue. Nobodies with the purchasing power have been elevated, on their tour, into celebrities in the time it take an eye to blink.  Some propose marriage and wake up surprising themselves.  

 

  

The Batwa girls come short. You need a birth certificate to confirm they are above 18 years of age to enter a bar or discotheque. If you want to dine on katogo or spiced African tea the place to sneak to is Miami along the Highway.

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