Retreat

As I carried my now familiar bowl of cold water into a patch of sunlight for a strip wash I thought of The Hotel Inspector. What would she say about the place where I'd just spent the night? "Points to improve: first, build a road; then install electricity, and most importantly get the bathroom facilities sorted!"


I hesitated,  let's delete that last improvement. Standing naked surrounded by dancing swallowtail butterflies and turquoise and yellow birds in the early morning sun was...an experience to treasure, definitely a Unique Selling Point.  


The lake, which would eclipse any in the Lake District, was dotted with fisherman in paddle canoes, the light shimmered blue and the flora bright green. The Rwandan tourist industry had missed an opportunity. The Chinese road builders had not. It's pity they want to sell cheap goods, not great locations.


 Always helpful our Hotel Inspector might suggest this as a strapline for my lodging;


"Built in 1944, this charming missionary retreat house boasts bedroom views over Lake Kiva. Period furniture and fittings, a rich abundance of wildlife both inside and out add to the getting away from it feel, for this out of the ordinary location" 


This little gem was a precious discovery and its whereabouts, even if I knew them, remain secret. Hotel Inspector stay away.


After a pleasant interlude breakfasting by the lake, we retraced our steps, with all our luggage, to our abandoned and mechanic hungry car. The road to this delightful place, could at it's most favourable, be described as an unused bridleway, it was not an easy walk and impossible to drive. We'd left the Toyota on the edge of the Congo Nile Trail, an exotic and evocative name for a place that was even wilder than my imaginings.


We were to spend much of the day feeding our hungry car a variety of village mechanics, which it spit out in distaste. Held together by bits of wire and crank started by hand, the car  limped onward to Changugu. As the butterflies of the morning were replaced by flying mud, any notion of retreat was banished far from our minds. 


But to my surprise I was to have a retreat that night, a hotel had been booked for me.  Granted no running water, limited electricity, no flushing loo, but these seemed extravagances now.  A clean bed, on my own. Rest.