The LONG Way Around the World: 2026

I’m writing these blog entries six-ish months after our return. To travel light, I didn't bring the necessary technology to post regularly. However, to keep the narrative fresh, I’ve written this blog in chronological order based upon the notes I took on a daily basis, simulating a real-time update.

May 24, 2025 (En Route)

And we're off! Rwanda here we come. Off to test the recent internet meme, 100 vs 1. Just need to find another 98 people to join us.

Two years ago, we spent three weeks exploring Central Europe, Nicole's ancestral lands, to finish what we started five years earlier. This time we're checking off another detour we passed up when we were exploring Tanzania with the family. At the time, it was our intent to trek for gorillas in the mist after we tracked game in the Serengeti, but our children didn't pass the age restriction, so we moved on.

It had always been my dream to make that happen. My dream. Not necessarily Nicole's. She is willing to suspend her utter terror of being mauled by a Silverback, as long as there is some Churros and Chocolate, or Tapas and Port somewhere along the journey. So, after a week of bushwhacking through the jungles of Rwanda, and learning about the local culture, we're headed to Spain for a week, followed by Portugal for a week.

New to this adventure is the tiny fact that we're going solo, at least for the first two weeks. The trio are hanging back to finish their last week of school, then Zane and Yaeko (and my Mom) will join us in Portugal, while Bryce flies in the opposite direction to join a school trip to Japan. Yup, Japan. We Longs sure love our international journeys.

While most might fret about going to the middle of an African jungle, we (and by “we,” I mostly mean Nicole), were mostly fretting about ensuring all would be well back home. It's a leap of faith to see if the past 20 years of parenthood paid off. While technically Nicole's Dad is minding the fort, it'll be up to the kids to get themselves up, dressed, fed, to school and back, pets fed, garbage out, kitchen cleaned, and then pack for international travel. You know, adulting.

It will also be wild to see Bryce’s icon on the map on the other side of the world from ours.

We departed to particularly long and tight hugs, much more than usual. And a couple of tears too. But we know there is so much love and support back home, that objectively we have nothing to worry about.

This trip also represents 50 spins around the sun for us, 25 of them as a married couple. We figured we would go big.

The 20ish hour journey to Kigali, Rwanda, starts with a 10 hr KLM flight to Amsterdam, then another 9 hrs from there. As you can surmise, direct flights to the middle of Africa don't really exist. This was as direct as we could find, again thanks to our favorite flight finding tool, Google Flights.

Visiting countries like this requires a bit of local knowledge, so we booked a custom travel package through a tour company, Gorilla Treks Africa (aptly named). As before, TripAdvisor came in handy. And as before, it is a leap of faith to send money to a foreign land in the hope that they will be standing with our names on a small whiteboard when we depart the plane.

Day 1-ish, May 25

We have arrived to Kigali, the capital of Rwanda! Again, in the dark of night, and again, we were instantly reminded of the smell of East Africa. As Zane once put it as a nine year old, “It smells like Africa - a bit of desert, hay, and a little smoke”. The air was surprisingly crisp. I had expected hot and muggy.

Our guide, Elvis (clearly not the OG Elvis), was waiting for us with a haphazard handwritten sign with “Gorilla Treks” scrawled on it. I’ll admit, I was expecting something a little more polished. Oh well, at least someone was there, and our first concern was dispelled.

While the Kigali Airport is more or less in the middle of the city, it seemed a fairly long journey to our hotel. Perhaps it was because Elvis drove about 20kph (12mph) the entire time. I wonder if that is because he needed time to give us an initial history lesson on the Rwandan Genocide, and certainly because his pace of communication is more tortoise, less cheetah. We also come to find that traffic speed is tightly monitored by street cameras everywhere.

Kigali is surprisingly hilly, and quite a bit bigger than I had anticipated. Rwanda is known as “The Land of 1,000 Hills.” Aptly named.

Some 30 minutes later, we arrived at Hotel des Mille Collines. If it sounds familiar, your intuition serves you well. This is the “Hotel Rwanda,” the setting of the movie from 2004, and part of the horrific genocide of 1994.

Frankly, the hotel was fairly standard by American standards, but upper tier in Rwanda. After nearly a day of travel, we began our restless first night of “sleep” to the not-so-subtle sounds of the air conditioning unit, which impressively mimicked ocean waves, with an intermittent tea kettle whistle just as unconsciousness was settling in.

Day 2, May 26 (Kigali)

When we arranged our week in Rwanda, we purposefully included a full day in Kigali to learn more about the culture of Rwanda and how it was able to recover from one of the worst atrocities in human history. World travel for us is primarily about learning how people live, and secondarily about checking off the must-see sites.

Through Viator (another great travel experience website), we hired a city guide for the day - Harry. His normal job is driving airport transfers, but much prefers taking people around town.

While Kigali was disorienting at night, it was just as disorienting to drive around the city in broad daylight. There are so many hills, and the roads are always going up, down, and around a contour. It’s possible that we never left a one-mile radius of our hotel, despite the 15-minute drives between stops.

Our first stop was the Kigali Genocide Museum.

Let’s pause for a quick history lesson…

Rwanda is composed of three main ethnic groups: Hutus (84%), Tutsis (15%), and Twa (1%). Before colonialism, the three coexisted in harmony. Hutus are generally shorter with more round features, Tutsis are taller with stretched features like the nose, and Twa are pigmy people from the mountains. Mind you, to us, it's difficult to discern the difference.
In 1933, the Belgian colonialists decided to identify ethnic background with ID Cards and formalized a social class system. They made the Tutsis the ruling class. Over time, this arbitrary class system created resentment among the majority of the Hutu.
On April 6, 1994, after decades of rising animosity, a plane crashed with the Hutu President, which catalyzed the Hutu genocide of the Tutsis. The Hutu government of the time marshalled its military and encouraged local militia to wipe out the Tutsis. They leveraged the state-run radio system to spread propaganda. Hutus turned on their Tutsi neighbors with machetes and clubs. Women and children were specifically targeted to wipe out future generations of Tutsis. Even moderate Hutus who sympathized with the Tutsis were murdered.
The horror is literally unimaginable. Within 3 months, nearly a million Tutsis were killed and left to decay in the streets, in homes, in churches, in swamps…everywhere.
The Rwandan Genocide ended in July 1994 when the Tutsi-led Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) launched a successful military offensive from neighboring Uganda. To avoid a reverse purge, the new government implemented a multi-faceted approach to promote unification.

The museum is understandably a solemn place that evokes profound reflection on how a peaceful society can devolve into madness. All children are required to learn about the atrocities in school, and most importantly, how to avoid it from happening again. There are genocide memorials scattered throughout the country as a reminder that this was not just in the cities. It happened everywhere.

I recall hearing very little about the Genocide when we were in college, and that is somewhat because the world had largely abandoned Rwanda to resolve its differences on its own. Even the United Nations, an organization explicitly formed to combat genocide after the holocaust, pulled out.

There is clearly a lot more to the story, and it's a story that should be told more often in these current times, as I fear the same rhetoric is on display in our country and around the world these days.

Rwanda’s rebirth is a story of breaking down walls and coming together as one people, despite their heritage.

It is with this background that we begin our journey through a country that is still recovering. Yet from all appearances, it would seem the people have figured out how to coexist peacefully and there is no longer Hutu or Tutsis or Twa. There is only Rwandan.

The remainder of the day:

Nyamirambo Women's Center

A Rwandan NGO that addresses gender-based violence, gender inequality, and discrimination through education and vocational skills training.
A great place to shop for local crafts without the typical sales harassment

Biryogo Car Free Food Street

A cool painted street lined with restaurants for several blocks.
We did a quick walk-through, as most of the food is Middle Eastern, rather than authentic Rwandan cuisine.
And also because we felt accosted by all the vendors.

Taste of Africa

This was authentic Rwandan food served in communal pots. Quite yummy.
As usual, sharing a meal with a local is where we learn the most. I’ll wrap up the daily post with many of the things Harry shared.

Campaign Against Genocide Museum / Rwandan Parliament

Mortar damage left as a reminder of the battle

Statue on the roof of how the RPA fended off the attacks from below.

We left the Genocide Museum with many questions unanswered. Most notably, how did the Genocide stop? The Genocide Museum is solely focused on how it started and the atrocities, but no real mention of how the three months of mayhem came to an end.
Sitting at the top of a hill and in the center of the city is a museum to help tell that story.
While it helped me understand the military tactics of the RPA, I still left wondering how a society mends itself socially. The answers are there, but difficult to tease out. (Note, the victory was mostly the time-tested military strategy, whereby the RPA had taken the high ground.)
We had a particularly interesting conversation with Harry in this museum. He asked if we knew in America what was going on at the time. We said no, as our news only came once a day on TV, and we were distracted with school and OJ Simpson. He wondered why we didn’t see it on the internet. It took us quite some time to convince him that we didn’t have the internet, much less social media. He just assumed that Americans, who invent everything, must have had the internet and access to information in 1994. (FYI, Harry is 30-ish)

Kimironko Market

We make it a point to visit the central market of the places we visit around the world. They speak so much about the culture of a country.
Of all the markets we visited, this was the most intimidating and stressful. It was cramped. It was noisy. It was an aromatic assault.
As the only people walking through with money, we felt like prey. Every proprietor of a small stall of merchandise was trying so desperately to sell something. Anything. And every stall, for rows and rows, sold the exact same thing.
After 10 minutes of harassment, all we wanted to do was leave.
I recall our guide in Tanzania, Endeni, say… “everybody needs money.”

Through the course of the full day of wandering with Harry, we learned more and more about Rwanda culture, past and present.

During our Genocide Museum visit, Harry sheepishly asked if we had seen the movie “Hotel Rwanda.” We nodded. He said, “this movie is a lie”. The main character, Paul, exploited the locals taking refuge at the hotel. If they didn’t pay to stay, they were kicked out. After the insanity subsided, Paul was pushed out of the country to live in exile, and eventually imprisoned by Rwanda. Further evidence that our “truth” is often heavily curated.

Kigali hums with activity. People are everywhere, all going this way and that with some kind of purpose, and at all times of day. The ratio of humans to motorcycles is nearly one to one. With so many people on the streets, we wondered who actually works in the buildings?

Yet with all of this humanity moving about, the place seems surprisingly clean. We learned from Harry that this is now a land of rules, both explicit and social.

No dogs allowed outside
No plastic bags
Speeding tickets are issued with wild abandon from automated camera kiosks.
Church doors are to remain closed at all times. (religion is ok, just taboo to leave the doors open given the horrific scenes that occurred in churches during the genocide)
Curfews are strictly enforced
Helmets are mandatory on motorcycles with an extra for the passenger
No smoking
No guns at home
Every house must have at least one planted tree

One particularly interesting law… The last Saturday of every month is called Umuganda. From 8am to 11am, ALL citizens are required to fix up community spaces and tend to their homefront. This certainly explains why Kigali is relatively clean and orderly.

As with many developing nations striving for civility, strict authoritarianism rules the day. Their president, Paul Kagame, has been in power since 2000, applying a heavy hand to maintain civility, and it would seem that is quite alright with the majority of Rwandans. Yet everything still seems… fragile.

African philosophy of interconnectedness, meaning “I am because you are,” emphasizing humanity, kindness and community

Footnote, given the high(ish) altitude and lush landscape, Rwanda has surprisingly comfortable weather.

Definitely not OSHA approved... (I always get a kick out of how other countries build)

Day 3, May 27 (Transfer Day)

Another rough night of sleep. Likely a combination of jet lag, and two hours of wire brushing concrete just outside our window at 2am… At least we could exit the hotel on a clean walkway.

Today is a long day on the road from Kigali to the south of Rwanda, where the chimpanzees live in Nyungwe National Park. As the crow flies, it’s a pedestrian 125 miles. Yet when we max out at 35mph on single lane roads that are rarely flat, it becomes an all day affair. At least the turtle-like pace prevented us from getting car sick.

The roads are actually well maintained, unlike those in Tanzania. We would ascend to a ridge, where most of the towns sat, then plunge to a valley where most of the crops are grown. This means our car shared the roadway with countless locals lugging produce on their heads and pushing bikes loaded with everything you could imagine. Cars and trucks are an extreme luxury. Tennis shoes too. Everyone wears rubber croc like shoes.

Elvis, our guide, was at once quite talkative, yet kept us unnervingly in the dark as to where we were headed and if we would stop for food or relief. At some point during our journey, he randomly pulled into a sleepy bed and breakfast perched on a hillside. As it turned out, the place wasn’t really open for business, and they made special provisions to prepare our meal. Our quick stop turned into an extended stay, which gave us plenty of time to explore the grounds, and learn more about Elvis.

Elvis, named after a favorite uncle, didn’t realize his famous namesake until he started leading tours and inquiring minds wanted to know. His wife runs a small cash advance kiosk in town. His son, curiously enough, shares my name! Inspired by his business hero, Steve Jobs. I came to find that he has a strong entrepreneurial spirit and uses the downtime during his tours to read a steady stream of business books. He’s read all the classics, Seven Habits, Rich Dad / Poor Dad, Thinking Big, etc, etc. He even shared a book written by a local business person with me to read during my downtime in Rwanda. Regrettably, his entrepreneurial spirit is hampered by heavy taxation and chronism of the authoritarian regime.

The book on the bottom is written by a Ugandan businessman with "interesting" opinions.

After another several hours of winding mountain roads, routinely passing four armed military guards with AK-47 rifles walking the roadway (this is a border region with Burundi, a tenuous neighbor apparently), and the occasional roadside monkey, we finally arrived at Nyungwe Top View Hill Hotel.

Our Cottage is above Nicole's head

Cool main entry sitting atop a hill

As we have come to expect on these kinds of tours, the staff was so friendly and accommodating. We were also treated to a rare encounter with a large family of Black and White Colobus monkeys making their way through the resort. Despite this being travel season, it felt like we had the entire resort to ourselves.

Beautiful iridescent Sun Birds everywhere in the fuscia

Day 3, May 28 (Chimpanzees)

We thought we would finally catch up on our sleep. We thought wrong. This time, the utter silence accentuated every subtle noise, even our heartbeats. Maybe we were anxious. Who knows. Tonight we will play some white noise on our phone.

Our drive to the entry point for the Chimpanzee trek was perhaps more what I was expecting… exceedingly rough and rutted roads. Free massage as Endeni, our safari guide, once put it. Two hours of free massage is about 100 minutes more than was necessary.

Random stores en route

Typical roadside home

Morning fog in the valleys

Hills, and more hills, and more hills

Lots of tea everywhere

Handpicking the tea

We met up with our trek guide, Oppo, a wonderful young woman with a clear passion for the natural world. She just oozed of positive energy. We gator’d up, grabbed our walking sticks, and got zero guidance on what we should do when we finally encountered the primates.

Given that we were about to enter their world, we had no idea how long it would be before we would find them. Ten minutes down a slippery jungle pathway and we were startled by not-so-distant visceral screeching. My heart jumped. Seconds later, a chimp ambled directly up the pathway towards us, then veered right into the dense jungle without even a sideways glance at us.

We now had a heading to find the rest of the chimp family, directly down a steep and muddy descent, trying not to entangle our feet in the exposed roots and vines. Funny how clumsy we were trying to make our way through the jungle, while our guides deftly stepped over every obstacle while holding us up.

They tell you to put the bottom of your pants in your socks and wear gators over your shoes - And for good reason. The mud and branches were a challenge, but the fire ants were the real reason. Despite our attempts at stepping over and around the trails, Nicole got bit… similar to a bee sting.

We finally situated ourselves in a small hillside perch with a clear view of a family of chimps gorging on figs and creating a steady stream of urine waterfalls. I guess figs must be watery. The alpha male found a quiet perch in an adjacent tree while the rest of the family harassed each other. Occasionally the male would scream at the brood to tell them to cut it out. They are vocal creatures.

I asked the guides if they named the chimps. Yes, most have names. However, not all. They pointed to one that was nameless. I jokingly said they should name it Steve. The guide pulled out his pocketbook and said they didn’t have one with that name… yet. And that is how there is a chimp in Rwanda that goes by the name, Steve. (Honestly, I really do think they named it that!)

They smash so many in their mouth that I'm not sure how they chew.

They fella above Nicole has the notebook with the Chimp names. I promise.

The alpha finally got bored and wandered off. As if on queue, the rest of the family descended the tree with the fluidity and grace of ballet dancers. Crazy to see how human sized creatures can move so effortlessly through the trees. I situated myself just out of urine’s way and ended up within feet of the line of chimps moving off into the jungle. So cool.

Our exit from the jungle was shockingly short. I actually think we went in a circle and found the chimps just beyond where we started. Just before our departure, we were treated to a local dance routine that left me in tears. I think it just kind of hit me how privileged we truly are.

By and large, we find that most tourists on these kinds of adventures are there to be present, and experience the joys of nature and the local culture - most people. This particular trek had a young lady, I shall call Panna, that was likely more at home in Dubai or Vegas. Good gracious was she superficial and self-centered. I doubt the chimps were impressed with the posh selfies and hair flicks. Panna is the worst kind of tourist, pretending she was bold and adventurous, then falling apart upon the site of a thin trail of fire ants. She even had the audacity to ask the guide if we could “speed things up. I have a massage appointment I’m about to miss.” I just wanted to shake her into seeing how privileged she is to have an experience like this. Even the guides would roll their eyes and snicker amongst themselves… These are the kinds of folks that give Americans a bad wrap.

We returned to the lodge around lunch, which allowed for a much needed nap before heading back out to a Forest and Canopy Bridge walk adventure.

Muddy boots and gators. Leave on porch before lunch, return from lunch, completely cleaned and dry. Great service.

Still unsure what "Cup-Scum" is, but boy was it delicious.

Again, we were greeted by another youthful woman guide named Claire. She was a wealth of local knowledge. Our short 60 minute stroll turned into a three hour in-depth nature walk, capped by a canopy bridge that I couldn’t traverse. Nicole can blissfully walk hundreds of feet in the air. I go into an utter panic. And the older I get, the worse the feeling gets…

Our extended stay gave Elvis plenty of book reading time. Yet he was more than happy to give Claire a ride back to town. Same with Oppo earlier in the day. I thought it was so cool how everyone seems to look out for each other here… Ubumuntu.