I wasn't supposed to spend the night in Ngororero.
I was heading to Musanze from Muhanga, but I had left Muhanga late and, as usual, the road had its own ideas. There were deviations, stopovers, and enough distractions to make the original plan increasingly irrelevant.
By the time I reached Ngororero, darkness was settling in. I spotted a roadside motel, checked the rooms, inspected the restaurant, and decided it was good enough for one night. Better to sleep than ride through unfamiliar territory in the dark.
The next morning, I opened the curtain.
Hills.
Beautiful, rolling hills stretching beyond the highway, with trails curling around them. I stood there for a while, looking.
Then came breakfast. Nothing elaborate, just a cup of coffee and two fresh chapatis. After breakfast, I climbed the stairs to the rooftop for a better view. From up there, the hills seemed to stretch endlessly, and the trails I had noticed from my room were now much clearer, winding their way around the slopes. I stood there for a while, taking it all in. The mountains were calling, and the trails looked too tempting to ignore.
So I opened the map. That was probably my first mistake.
Thirty minutes later, I was discovering routes I hadn't planned, places I hadn't intended to visit, and possibilities that certainly hadn't been on the previous day's itinerary.
My journey to Musanze suddenly had a new problem. I had discovered another adventure.
The rest is a story for another day.