This is me at Chyangugu - the land atthe other side of the lake that you can see in the distance is the Congo. This is the southernmost town in Rwanda where there is a border crossing into Congo. We went right up to the border which is a narrow one way bridge, with a small customs post and an armed guard. It was all quite casual really, but obviously wealthy across the other side in Bakuva. We didn't bother going across but sat and had a beer by the narrow fast flowing river, knowing that the bank at the other side was in a different country which was quite weird!

There was a large earthquake here only about a year ago and there is still a lot of methane in the lake. There were many fishermen out in their dug out canoes while we were there though, hauling the tiny fish that they make into simbasa, which is like dried whitebait.

Talking of earthquakes I have actually experienced three while I have been here,. There was a small one last night which I could actually feel moving along in a line under the ground. A month or so ago there was one at 7 am. The floor was moving one way backwards and forwards for a long time and the walls seemed to be going in the opposite direction. The first one was in Butare when I was in the motel and I was a bit too asleep to notice. I thought it was just a big fat bloke turning over in bed in the room next door!!!!

This is passion fruit growing in our garden. There are dozens of fruits on the plant along the fence. Its not ripe yet but I hope I can pick one before I come home. We also have bananas trees. These two fruits plus pineapple are our three choices of pudding, although oranges seem to be in season too at the moment.

To us it may seem that there are no growing seasons as each day we usually have some sunshine and some rain, which combined with fertile soils makes this country a perfect place to grow things. Everywhere you look, no matter how small the plot, Rwandans will have planted something, and they will know the best time to plant them and things do grow very quickly. A field will be planted with some small bean plants and in a couple of weeks they are two metres tall. And no matter where you are, out of the major town centres, there will be someone nearby labouring in the fields, usually with only a simple hoe which is used in a smiliar way to a pick. I can never work out how they seem to know whose plot of land is whose, but they do. Any excess is then taken to market to be sold.

It has to be done! It is the only way we can get to some schools and it can be as much as an hour up the dirt road clinging on for dear life. I could now enter for the pillion passenger motor bike scrambling championship especially after the rain when the roads are no more than muddy puddles held together by a few small solid patches. Basically you just have to pretend that you are a sack of potatoes and hope that he wants chips for dinner. The only trouble is that potatoes don't hurt when they fall off. These guys know what they are doing though and can get up inch wide gaps between the puddles and the potholes and I just presume they do not fall off any more than I do. It always seems easier after a couple of Mutzigs but this was at 12 noon so a bit early for that!

Everywhere you walk you get a crowd - its a bit like being the Pied Piper, or at least I get an idea how the queen must feel now, because everyone stares at you and waves like you are royalty. We had just gone for a long walk around the other side of the valley one day and this was one of the first crowds we picked up so they got their photo taken. They had not started to ask us for "amafaranga" ie money at this stage, because they were not used to seeing musungus in their area. But they probably did. It seems to be becoming the greeting when they see us to ask for money without even bothering to say hello sometimes. You can understand it if you think about it. But it is hard to be constantly bombarded with it.

I am absolutely hooked on these wonderul african fabrics. Decided to go the whole hog here and add the african headdress too. This was taken at the st patricks day ball at the serena which was an extravagent affair and cost me about one third of my month's wages!! But it was fun.

My house in Shyogwe is isolated in a funny sort of way in that it is an hour's walk from the main road. We can get on the back of a push bike for 20p to get down to the road and usually we get a moto up the road. The other day it had been raining and the poor push bike guy was dripping sweat and absoutley breathless when we got to the top of the small incline at the beginning of the road. I had two samosas in my bag and I realised that he needed some fuel in my tank so i got them out and gave him one and i had the other. So we had a nice chummy little mini picnic before carrying on our way.
The motos also struggle with the dirt road because it is just one long stretch of muddy puddles. last night we came home and went past several cows - rwandans are not allowed to graze them they cut the grass and take it to the cows - and four soldiers with guns (perhaps looking out for cows?) and the drivers just wanted the dosh they weren't bothered whether they got us there dead or alive - they just went at full speed over all the bumps and puddles and my helmet and his crash bang walloped all the way home.
The previous week michael had managed to get himself a very dud moto which the guy was driving with both hands on one side to stop the brakes falling off. Then when he came off the main road onto the dirt track the lights failed so the driver went straight down the middle of the track - which unfortunately for michael is also the bumpiest bit. I could see him ahead bouncing up and down and shouting in his lovely posh accent "Stop stop stop," to which the oblivious driver just replied "sorry sorry sorry" . Later it became clear why he had not heeded Michael's urgent appeals - his brakes were not working. So when we rounded the corner into Shyogwe and the driver saw it was a down hill, he took urgent remedial action to bring his bike to a stop. First he tried walking backwards - not very effective action on a ton weight motor bike with two passengers and then as a last resort he swerved to the left - to take the bike uphill presumably hoping to stop - and finally came to rest right outside pasteur emmanuel's front door.
One bike ride not to be forgotten!

After the rain there is a fantastic view of the volcanoes from the back of paula's house. Byumba is already at 2,500 metres above sea level which is twice as high as Ben Nevis and then suddenly when the rain clears you see the tops of 6 volcanoes towering above that height in the far distance, one of which is in the Congo. its an amazing sight. paula calls them her friends and i kind of know why. The leaves in the foreground are the banana trees in her garden.