THE silverback tears a boulder-size bamboo root up from the forest floor as if picking up a mere twig, and begins to munch voraciously.
As he eats, he lets out a low grunt, a guttural “Uggh, Uggh.” Our ranger then relaxes: “He is content, we are welcome.”
We are just metres from the mountain gorilla, the world’s largest living primate — the flash of silver fur across his broad back glinting in the sunlight.
Beside him, a lively toddler mimics his bamboo gathering on smaller slivers of fresh root.
A mother clutching a baby close to her chest watches on indulgently.
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It’s rainy season in Rwanda’s Volcanoes National Park and the fresh bamboo that grows seasonally on the mountain’s lower slopes is an irresistible treat for the Susa family.
Packed full of sugar, the gorillas gorge on the green canes.
One park warden laughs: “They love to get a little dizzy and drunk on it.”
So busy are the family, they show no interest in our group and wander from thicket to thicket, brushing past our legs without a care.
I am astonished as to just how close we are.
Before setting off on this once-in-a-lifetime trip I had imagined admiring them from afar, taking a sneak peek through dense forest.
But here they are, happy for us to wander almost amongst them.
Nursing mothers
Obviously, this is done under the watchful eye of our experienced rangers and guides.
They spend their lives caring for the gorillas that were once hunted to almost extinction.
We follow their instructions to the letter.
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Never stare directly into the eyes of a silverback. Give the nursing mothers a wide berth.
This is their territory and we must respect that.
The Susa family, now numbering around 22, is one of 12 families of mountain gorillas that call the Volcanoes National Park their home.
The park is part of the Virunga Mountains range of extinct volcanoes that encompasses northern Rwanda, southern Uganda and the Democratic Republic of the Congo.
Just 96 permits are issued in Rwanda each day.
A group of eight visitors will spend just ONE hour with each of the families in the Volcanoes National Park daily.
But such exclusivity doesn’t come cheap.
The permits cost £1,184 per person.
Setting off from the lovely Serena Hotel in the capital Kigali long before dawn, we arrive at Kinigi at 7am.
It’s a two-and-a-half-hour drive and for those with deeper pockets there’s even the chance to take a helicopter to shave an hour off that journey.
On arrival we are briefed before driving to a small village at the base of the Volcanoes National Park.
Here, we are encouraged to secure the services of a local porter.
It is this community involvement that is at the heart of the conservation success story that is Rwanda’s gorillas.
Where once there were poachers, now there are porters, who for around £10 are happy to hold heavy bags and proffer a helping hand when the terrain gets tricky.
Thanks to the work with local communities, the Volcanoes gorilla population has grown from a critically endangered 242 to more than 604.
We set off as a group, working our way up through the village and on to the lower slopes, the nutrient-rich soil now farmed and providing work and food for villagers.
Although steep, in the sunshine it is a relatively easy climb of around 40 minutes to the base of the park.
Depending on the time of year, you may need to trek for up to four hours through the forest to find your gorilla family — climbing to altitudes between 2,500 and 4,000 metres.
Sturdy hiking boots and wet-weather clothing are essential.
We strike it lucky.
The rainy season — and that irresistible bamboo — have tempted the Susa gorillas to the very edge of the park.
Within minutes of crossing into the protected forest, we encounter our first gorilla.
Wardens pass face masks among the group.
With the gorillas so relaxed and close, wardens are keen we don’t pass on any illnesses.
Our precious hour with the group passes in a flash and we watch as the group break free from the park, climbing over the low stone wall to feast on another delicacy, young willow trees planted by farmers.
The wardens make note of the destruction caused by the gorillas as they topple the trees and start to munch — villagers will be reimbursed so they can replant.
Conservation is so successful here, the park needs to expand to accommodate all the gorillas.
It is planned to extend down the slopes — with villagers compensated.
Grudgingly, we begin our descent and the heavens open.
Paths become treacherously slippy rivers and I clutch my porter’s hand.
We arrive back at our Jeep soaked to the skin, breathless and without a care.
After such an experience, I would have set off back up the mountain in an instant for one more glimpse of the magnificent beasts.
