What of the impenetrable forest?

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So, after a final night time feast round the blazing campfire with staff and students from both institutions mingling and chatting animatedly, the magical Rukiga spirit ensuring much singing and dancing and only emphasised next morning by copious tears and farewells, we have returned to busy, noisy, dusty Kampala without sighting the pangolin; but we have left some of our party to make further searches for gorillas in the impenetrable forest: Helen, Raj, Natalie (say Na'a'lee), Naomi and Nick (whose birthday was yesterday) are staying a few more days and if they are vigilant may even spy the shy B. rex (is it like hunting the snark?).
Nalab and Flo woke the staff up (really!)about 6a.m. and blearily we squeezed things back into our packs and Sama chivvied us aboard. As we made our way joltingly North and East in Mohammed's trusty red bus, and 'blessed Sama headmistress' had reminded us to take our Malaria pills, we said goodbye to heavy hippos, the locust bean pods, the tamarind and poinsettia trees, the weaver bird nests which hang like baskets; the cactus trees about to bloom gave way to jacaranda trees, banana and tea plantations flecked by solo cows, and the scenery flashed past like a fast rewinding film, becoming a checkered collage of goats and people - people grilling bananas, women with impossible loads on heads, tailors sewing and others walking with armfuls of trousers and jackets, market sellers piling high with pumpkins, pineapples and papayas, mounds of blackened stones, men doing things to tyres, others with bits and bobs just set out on the ground, the odd armchair here and there, chickens wandering in and out of doorless dwellings, taxi bikes and mopeds with whole families aboard stirring up the red rutted roads.
When we reached Backpackers hostel the students rushed the tiny gift shop as if it were the start of sales in Oxford St! (there aren't really any shopping opportunities and they are keen to buy parents and friends some bits of Ugandan craft work). After showering off the day's red dust we met up with Saidi again, shared some food and some shot a few rounds of pool (Soha plays the meanest game!) Our UK Ugandans went off to have their hair plaited, and others befriended the VSOs in the bar, absorbing their tragic tales and promising to change the world. There didn't seem much point in going to bed.

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