Earlier today, I was going through my photo gallery, looking for images to use in one of my books, which is still “under construction.” One photograph suddenly caught my attention. It was taken on April 13, 2024, at 4:54 p.m.
I remember that day vividly. I was zigzagging toward the southern part of Karongi along the meandering highway when I spotted a scenic viewpoint. I found a safe place to park, got out of the car and spent a couple of minutes admiring the view.
Lake Kivu, its islands and peninsulas, and the jagged shoreline Karongi is known for. I took one photograph and continued my journey to Nyamasheke.
Today, that photograph took me back there.
I swiped right and saw the picture I had taken while leaving Cormoran Lodge. I swiped left, then left again. The next image was from 7 a.m. the following morning, taken from Kumbya Retreat Center, where I had spent the night.
Photographs have an interesting way of replaying journeys.
But there was something in this particular photograph that I had completely missed.
Mountains.
Very faint mountains appeared on the horizon, barely visible through the haze and clouds. I had stood there in 2024 admiring the lake without noticing what was beyond it.
So, naturally, I started investigating.
I used some high-tech tools to examine the image, estimate directions and angles, and compare the barely visible elevations with mountains in the region. I am not done consulting technology, but so far, everything seems to be pointing toward the Virunga Massif.
That brought back another memory.
In 2019, while taking a boat from Golf Eden Rock Hotel to Kivu Lodge, I noticed the silhouettes of volcanoes on the northeastern horizon. I remember asking the boat operator, who confirmed that they were indeed the Virunga elevations. Until then, I had no idea they could be seen from Karongi.
Now I was looking at a 2024 photograph and trying to identify the same volcanic chain from the Kivu Belt road.
My geographical instincts started making suggestions. The massive-looking peak on the left could be Karisimbi. Or perhaps one of the volcanoes in the DRC. Nyamuragira? Nyiragongo? Another sharp, cone-shaped elevation reminded me of Mikeno.
Muhabura, Gahinga and Sabyinyo seem unlikely.
But the evidence is not good enough to make a final judgment. The mountains are too distant, the clouds are unhelpful, and my camera lens was hardly designed for mountain forensics.
For now, the investigation remains inconclusive.
One thing seems clear, though: the Virunga chain had been hiding beyond the landscape I was admiring.
This little discovery has now grown into a story of its own and earned a page in one of my upcoming publications. When the book eventually features in a Turning Pages session, I will put the photograph before the participants and see if someone can solve a mystery I did not even know existed when I took it.
And that, I think, is one of the great pleasures of travel. Sometimes, the journey continues long after you have returned home.