Two days ago, I turned thirty. Many of you sent well-wishes for a special day, and indeed it was, but it was sort of an accident. I’d been so busy safariing, road-tripping, and enjoying our travels that June 26th crept up on me out of nowhere. My mom had been pestering me for weeks as to what we were planning for my special day, but we didn’t even know which country we would be in on the day – how could we plan something!?!
Chance placed us in Karongi, a town on Rwanda’s Lake Kivu. (Having last left off in Zambia, it’s obvious that the narrative of my blog is very, very late!) The lake, with its inlets and peninsulas and tiny islands dotting the water, was admittedly pretty. But the accommodation left a lot to be desired, water activities were ridiculously expensive, and the restaurants looked dubious.
“Oh well,” I said to Bruno. “It’s just a birthday.” And that was how I truly felt. With my childhood long-gone, and my mom half a world away, birthdays had become little more than just an ordinary day.
But Bruno had been given indirect orders to make the day special for me. He was visibly stressed, scared of screwing up the first birthday that we would spend physically together. For days, he’d been trying to find “the place”, and we’d driven a whole lot of kilometers searching in vain for it. Karongi didn’t really look like a place where you’d spend a thirtieth birthday, either, but I was tired of driving. Enough was enough, I commanded. We would stay here.
“Whatever you want tomorrow, it’s yours,” he replied. He was offering me a carte-blanche. Ironically, I didn’t know what I wanted. We would leave the day to chance, it appeared.
Fortune must have rained down on us that night. For when we woke up, the morning sun was glistening on a sparsely-inhabited peninsula in front of our breakfast table, and I suddenly knew what I wanted to do. We would hike the perimeter of that peninsula, of course!
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| Breakfast over Lake Kivu, with the peninsula we would hike in the background. |
We filled our water bottles, slapped on sunscreen, slung our cameras over our shoulders, and headed toward the peninsula. Without a proper map, we didn’t really know if we were going the right way, and the beginning of the walk took us through the noisy slum and the dirty port.
Just as I began to wonder if this walk was going to be a bust, providence illuminated the exact type of hillside footpath I was looking for. Following it took us onto isolated perches of land with fabulous lake views. We scurried up rocky cliffs, caught a glimpse of our distant hotel, and the stress of needing to have the perfect birthday melted away. We sang songs and giggled. Bruno fashioned me a ring out of grass. We snapped photos of each other snapping photos of each other.
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| A distant view of our hotel. Our camper van is parked right at the edge of the water. |
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| This was just after Bruno sang me a very off-key version of Happy Birthday! |
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| One of several islands dotting Lake Kivu. |
And then, we stumbled upon a lodge. Our tummies were beginning to grumble, so we walked in for a meal. Little did we know that this would, in fact, be a gourmet feast, and one of the best we’d had in months. The kitchen was run by Europeans, so the pizza crust was home-made, the chips were hand-cut and crispy, and the cheese in the galettes de fromage was full-bodied. The ambience of the wooden terrace overlooking the clear-blue lake matched the food.
As I spoke with mom and dad over the phone, my birthday dessert of crêpe stuffed with vanilla ice cream and topped with a sugary caramel appeared. It was so divine that I had to concede that luck was commanding our every move that day.
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| Cormorant Lodge, where we had a gourmet birthday feast! |
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| Saying goodbye to my parents before the ice cream in my crepe melts! |
Birthday activity ideas were now pouring out of my mind. Bruno had given me carte-blanche, and I finally knew what to do with it.
“I want to go on a sunset boat cruise,” I told Bruno. I’d seen a little local motor boat ferry some tourists out to the islands as we lunched. “And then, I want to have a romantic home-cooked pesto pasta dinner by the water.”
My wish was Bruno’s command.
Our private boat picked us up an hour before sunset, and we headed out toward the setting sun to contour a few of the islands past the peninsula we’d walked upon earlier that day. I felt content on the water, with the wind in my hair and the waves lapping up against the wooden frame of our boat.
A deep call-and response song suddenly rang out in the distance. It was fishermen, paddling boats fastened to one another with wooden planks. They sang so that all nine of them could synchronize their rowing. We cut the motor to listen to them sing, and as we did, they rowed powerfully past the round, deep red ball of the setting set.
Soon, we were surrounded by four sets of these unique boats, listening only to their distant songs while the fishermen unraveled their nets in the space between each boat. The lake turned glassy and calm and the disappeared sun reflected faint colors onto the water. It was pure, perfect peace, but I was no longer surprised by our fortuitousness.
“It’s been the most perfect birthday,” I purred to Bruno affectionately.
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| Our private sunset cruise. |
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| These unique Rwandan fishing boats paddling out to see past a golden setting sun. |
With Cesaria Evora swaying softly in the background, and a candle illuminating our pesto-and-wine dinner, I reflected on the day, the year, and the decade. My twenties had been good – very, very good – to me. They had begun in the midst of my philosophical enlightenment at the haven of Lake Forest College, and had thereafter introduced me to the world of travel, gifting me with exploration, discovery, and experience. Finally, my twenties had led me to Bruno, self-acceptance, and the strength to follow my heart.
And that is where I begin my next decade, the one my mom has always dubbed her favorite. I begin my thirties comfortable in my own skin and the path I’ve chosen. I am following my dreams, have love in my life, and have no regrets about the decade I now leave behind.
As I finished my birthday phone call with my parents, my dad asked if I had any words of wisdom. I told him I didn’t, because I still feel so young, so how can I have wisdom? But, maybe I do have some wisdom after all, paraphrased from my good ol’ band, Phish: Live while you’re young.
That’s exactly what I plan to do.
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Last week, I announced the Comment Competition on my blog. The competition closed as I sipped on my birthday glass of red wine. Thanks to everyone who participated. Feel free to continue commenting anywhere on my blog whenever you want! I’ll be sure to reply!
The winner of the Comment Competition is Freya! Congrats, Freya! Please send me your address so I can mail off your lovely homemade African art card.
Brittany Caumette - Dear Christine and David,
Thank you for reading, sending me birthday wishes, and sharing a travel story of your own! Sounds like you had a luxurious holiday, much like my birthday! 🙂
Enjoy the humpback whales (jealous!). Bruno sends his best!
Christine and David - Hi, Brittany and Bruno. Thanks so much for your great blog. I love to travel with you from our very comfortable home in Pottsville Beach, Australia. Happy 30th, Brittany. We have just returned from Melbourne, where we spent a week catching up with family and shopping. We stayed in a hotel on St Kilda Rd, a few minutes by tram from the city centre. King sized bed, pillow menu, separate dressing room, city view, great breakfasts. We had sunset drinks on the 55th floor of the Rialto Building, at Lui Bar. David was constantly complaining about the cold. LOL. We’re now back home in the sunshine, back to work. Maybe we’ll have time to do some whale watching from the beach during the week. The humpbacks are heading north to Harvey Bay to calve and they can be seen from here, sometimes quite close in to shore. Best Regards to you both, Christine and David.