Greg, the R2 from Winnipeg who has been a great support to me on this trip, and an ardent teacher of basic science and basic principles to the residents, has to go back on Tuesday. He has an overnight flight leaving 10 pm Tuesay and he is back on call in Winnipeg Thursday night.
Before he left, he wanted to investigate the night club scene in Kigali, so we set out to do that.
We began at 8 pm with a late dinner at Khazana, the best Indian restaurant in Kigali. Curried chicken and tilapia, kashmir pillau amd peshwari naan ( or was it the other way around?) were delicious, although the bill came to about $48 for the two of us, which seems a lot for Rwanda.
We were told that there was no point turning up at the Cadillac night club before midnight, so we took a cab to the Repulika Lounge. This is a nice restuarant on a balcony, and a lounge with comfy sofas. We relaxed over a gin and tonic and a couple of Mutzigs, entertaining ourselves by watching the prostitutes pick up the single guys drinking at the bar!
We were joined by an English medical student and two Canadians, originally from Toronto, who were resting up in Kigali before cycling to Botswana. On Wednesday they will start a 600 km ride through small villages to some town in Tanzania, where they can catch a boat to take them the length of Lake Tanganyka!
At midnight the five of us piled into a Toyota Corolla taxi and were driven to Cadillac. After a brief discussion we decided the RwF 1,500 ($3) cover charge was OK and went in. It was loud and dark, with lots of UV lights. I went to the bathroom and found I had lost the rest of the group when I got out. As I searched for them I realised I was being followed by a prostitute. I tried to shake her off and managed to find the group. Women in skimpy outfits kept on coming up to our table, putting our arms around us and asking if we wanted to dance. It was difficult to even look around the room at the African couples dancing, as you found yourself making eye contact with the ladies of the night who did not need any more encouragement to come to our table or to dance provocatively.
Even after a couple of beers and a Tequila shot I felt uncomfortable, so I left at 1:30. On the way out a woman asked me where I was going. I said I was going home. She squished her breasts against my chest and from about three inches away, looked into my eyes and asked if she could come with me! I said no, and made a dash for the door. The first taxi in the parking lot wanted RwF 4,000 (about $7) to take me home. That's a fair price, but he could have asked a lot more and I would not have argued. I am a happily married man, get me out of here!
Greg stayed until the small hours of the morning, but had his wallet pick-pocketed, which is sad but perhaps not surprising.