Rwanda: Gorillas vs Chimpanzees vs Golden Monkeys

No, this isn’t Celebrity Deathmatch, much as the world is poorer for its absence. Nor is it that 100 men versus one gorilla debate, which I settled conclusively the morning a silverback mock charged me and I shat myself roughly a thousand times in under two seconds.  I’m talking about all the primates Rwanda offers you the chance to go hang out with, like a hairier episode of Friends.  Each trek sounds spectacular, mostly because the descriptions are written by people who would like your money.  It’s pick’n’mix, except one of the sweets is $1,500 and there’s no trying before you buy.

I’ve done all of’em.  Here’s which ones actually deserve your morning.

Gorillas

I have yet to meet anyone prepared to go all the way to Rwanda, stay in a luxury hotel, and then not go gorilla trekking.  No one’s ever said, “I wanna fly across an ocean and stare at Dian Fossey’s grave”.  And if they did, we may have found the killer.

So yes, the gorillas are the headline act, and like any headliner, they ain’t gonna come cheap.  $1,500 a permit.  $15,000 if you want a private one, which buys you a lie-in, no meet-and-greet centre, and the freedom from being trapped for seven hours with strangers who might even want to do awful, unthinkable things, like talk to you.  Dear god.

I’ve written the full guide elsewhere, but the short version is that the non-private process is gloriously, pointlessly convoluted.  A 5:45 wake-up, then a 7 am arrival at a meeting point where nothing happens for an hour.  Then a drive, then porters, then a hike that might take one hour or might take most of the day, and nobody — not the rangers, not your driver, not God — can tell you which in advance.

And then you’re standing four metres from a 200kg silverback and by the power of Greyskull, it is epic.  The other three on this list are animals you watch; Gorillas are certainly aware of you, and occasionally decide to do something about it.  One reached out and touched my leg, and whilst I initially felt confused about these new feelings, I’ve since decided to open all new conversations with that story.  I don’t care if you’re a bailiff coming to arrest me; we’re talking gorillas.

Worth it?  Yes.  Worth doing twice?  Also yes.  I’m on trek six, and will gladly go back again.  Especially if it means staying in Bisate Reserve.  Each gorilla family is different enough that the second trek feels like a different species rather than a repeat.  Do gorillas twice before you do anything else once.

Chimpanzees

Chimps mean Nyungwe, which means a long drive from Volcanoes, and the full write-up is here.

Permits are $150, or $2,000 for a private one, at which point it starts to feel like a charitable donation compared to the gorilla equivalent.  The trek itself begins on a well-maintained trail with actual steps, which after the mud and stinging nettles of Volcanoes feels like arriving at a spa.  That lasts about thirty minutes.  Then the chimps come down out of the trees and vanish, and you spend the next forty-five minutes crashing through dense forest after something that has made its complete lack of interest in you extremely clear.  It’s like trying to talk to my kids.

Which is, oddly, the appeal.  There’s something genuinely engaging about the chase, I say in the least murder-y way possible.  They’re also loud in a way that makes the forest feel like something is about to kick off.  And when one of them finally settles two metres away and just sits there looking at you, it tips from “fine” into memorable.

Two warnings.  The road is atrocious — imagine a jackhammer applied to your face for the final thirty minutes of a ninety-minute drive.  And the photography is brutal.  It’s a dark forest, the chimps are high and moving, and you want 400mm minimum at f/2.8 to f/4.  I was still struggling at ISO 12,800.  Anything less and you’re documenting blur and disappointment, then telling people it’s art.

Worth it if you’re already in Nyungwe and want an active morning.  Not worth restructuring an itinerary for.

Golden Monkeys

During my golden monkey trek, my guide told me once she had 8 young, healthy guests who all refused to walk and wanted to be carried up the mountain for a gorilla trek.  By the time they set off, there were over 60 porters on one trek.  I have not laughed so much in perhaps my entire life.  What has this got to do with the golden monkeys?  Well, for me, that story was the best part of the entire experience.  Ok, and my photos, I’m quite happy with those.

$100 a permit – the catch is that a shared permit means up to sixteen people, a phrase that sounds like someone stole my First Class ticket and, no more than 5 centimetres from my face, just screamed: “we’ve downgraded you to the middle seat.” So I paid $1,500 for a private permit on a $100 activity, which tells you everything about my character and nothing good.

The trek is barely a trek.  Under twenty minutes, flat, and if you’re at Bisate it starts essentially next to the lodge.  I was back in my room by 9:30 with no sense of achievement whatsoever.  The monkeys stay in a fixed patch of bamboo, so the trackers know exactly where they’ll be.  It’s probably one step up from going to a zoo.

They are, to be fair, beautiful — that golden blowout is a genuine piece of work — and they behave like toddlers who’ve discovered amphetamines.  The problem is the mandatory hour.  You’ve seen the full behavioural repertoire by minute thirty-five: jumping, eating, jumping again, two seconds of eye contact, immediate disappearance.  The last twenty minutes are the director’s cut nobody asked for.

Colobus Monkeys

Throwing this one in because it’s on the menu in Nyungwe.  I did it, so you don’t have to.  And at $90, you won’t be checking your stock portfolio to decide if you wanna do it.

Nyungwe holds one of the largest colobus troops on the continent.  Perfect, you’re thinking.  Right until I tell you where they spend their time: very high up in very tall trees, behind a great deal of foliage.

They are, and I want to be precise here, a fooking nightmare to see, and worse to photograph.  You will spend an hour looking almost vertically upwards, developing a neck complaint, watching black-and-white shapes move between branches.  Bring the longest lens you own and lower your expectations to floor level – which, annoyingly, is not where you will ever see them.

Worth it only if you’re in Nyungwe with a spare morning and have already done the chimps.

Conclusion

Gorillas are the best and cost ten times more than everything else.  Fair.  Below that, we’re quibbling over dollars: chimps $150, golden monkeys $100, colobus $90, a $60 spread covering the difference between “genuinely memorable” and “where’s the chiropractor?!” Capitalism, you sneaky bastard.

But the permits were never the expensive bit.  You’re restricted to one activity a day, so doing all four doesn’t cost you some permits; it costs you four nights in a lodge.  And if that lodge is One&Only Nyungwe House, you may want to consider again.

If you have one trip and a finite budget: do gorillas twice and nothing else.  If you have longer and fancy Nyungwe, add chimps (although, in the not-too-distant future, you will be able to do this near the gorillas).  If you’ve a spare morning and no strong feelings, the golden monkeys will fill it.  Colobus only if you’ve run out of other things and enjoy neck pain.

And if you’re one of the eight healthy young adults who required sixty porters to get up a mountain, you are my heroes.  I shall think fondly of you for the rest of my life.