Barrel of Monkeys

I was too smug about the trekking yesterday, and I was made to pay for it today. Due to the expense of the gorilla permits ($500 a day, rising to $750 in July), I decided to visit the Golden Monkeys on my second day; another rare attraction limited to the Parc National des Volcans and its neighbouring parks. This trek was supposed to be easier than the gorillas, and I was looking forward to a leisurely walk around the peripheries of the park. Oh I was so wrong.

As we headed out from our drop off point, it started to rain. Not that slow-motion-romantic-rain which occurs when you’re rushing towards a loved one, but the now-you’re-in-the-tropics-boy kind of rain. It bucketed down in a manner similar to the end sequence of the movie 2012. Stupidly, I had left my raincoat in Australia but I had luckily picked one up at Johannesburg airport. For future reference, yes, the $40 pocket raincoat is not as effective as a $400 gor-tex one. Surprisingly there is a reason that outdoor adventure gear costs so much. Well, maybe not that much. My camera bag, even under my top, was soaked, but the camera was only a little damp and still functioning. The rain turned all the ground to mud, making dodging thistles, vines and ankle twisting rocks that much harder. We eventually located the tracker group, and then finally a group of Golden Monkeys. Unlike the Gorillas, which happily sit there and let you photograph them, the monkeys crazily jump all over the place. Amazingly, the rain stopped for a good half an hour, allowing me to take some truly appalling photos. I’m blaming the monkeys.

After 45 minutes, the heavens opened up again, and we decided to head back. The forest by now resembled a muddy river, and it was so deep in parts that we had to wade through it. Nobody was safe from the downpour, and I was so soaked that water was pouring out of my sleeves like a spout. Bear Grylls eat your heart out.