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It was raining, like it does every day in Rwanda. It was also hot, extremely hot. The terrain was a steady incline through dense jungle, the trackers clearing the way ahead of us. Our plastic ponchos kept our bodies dry but sweaty and did nothing to help our feet in the slippery uphill sludge. One step forward, two slides back. Luckily, we each had a porter carrying our stuff and helping us so we didn’t slide too far backwards. We climbed and we climbed; the regular breaks helped but our group of ‘olds’ were exhausted once we hit the 3 hour mark. The rain subsided but was replaced by a wet mist. Our trackers told us we had another half hour. Groans could be heard from us all. Then comes the news that we are only a few minutes away. Our drink bottles, backpacks and porters abandoned we slowly edge forward not really knowing what to expect. There is a rustle in the bushes and I lean forward to look at about the time my heart skipped multiple beats. There not a foot away was a dark shadow; I knew instantly that it was a wild mountain gorilla. She was with her baby languishing in the long grass with not a care in the world. We gasped, some of us had tears rolling down our cheeks; a dream come true. We take a few more steps and there in the clearing were about 20 gorillas, all just hanging out, some almost posing and totally unawares of what their presence was doing to our adrenalin. The massive silverback was lying on his back but close to his ‘wife’ who was breast feeding a tiny 4 day old with fingers as small as a human baby and fur that was still wet and disheveled from its birth. It had a latched onto Mum and was going for the feed of his life. Further over was a bunch of youngsters ranging from around 4 months to a few years old. Like children anywhere they were eager to impress. One doing gymnastics and twirling round a branch as though it was a jungle gym. He was having a ball, until he got stuck and had to be rescued by his Mum. Another was starting to get stroppy before his time and took great care in trying to perfect his chest thumping to show how big and bold he was. His Mum was not so impressed and showed her displeasure with a swift one across the ears. The world shook for us when the silverback rose from his slumber and casually walked past to take up a new position next to one of the females. His size was daunting with upper arms as fat as my waist; his height when upright scarily on a par with my height. He crouched and walked on all fours with his silver back on show. He IS the leader of the group and made sure that everyone knew it. Even the wee ones were in awe and silently watched from the safety of Mum’s arms. We were silent and not quite sure if we should make a run for it and hide or just quietly stay and watch. The rain starts again and the group starts to disperse. In the scramble one passes close and brushes my leg just before the ranger had a chance to pull me out of the way. It’s supposed to be good luck but could have just as easily been my last breath due to heart failure. Just as I am recovering another comes from behind and brushes my other leg only minutes before the silverback walks right in front of me. Shaking with terror, filled by excitement we bade goodbye. Our hour with the giants was over. I knew the memories of my close encounters would stay with me forever and hoped the ‘good luck’ would see me safely back down the track that challenged me this morning.