Adventures with Kingsley Holgate (23)

We've parked our 'Braveheart' Landies at the edge of the forest, pushing them hard to get them this far in. Now it's on foot. Around me deep in the rain forests of northern Congo sit 14 Ba'aka Pygmy porters, the expedition team, a pile of tents, canvass bedrolls, water bottles, 2 pots, five days of basic food supplies to include porter rations of casava, salt, tins of sardines, a charged satellite phone, matches, first aid, 3 GPS's, expedition journal, a roll of paper maps, the traditional decorated goat skin gourd carrying water from our cradle of human kind and our 'Heart Of Africa' beacon. Our quest to discover the geographic centre of the continent of Africa is what we are all fired up to achieve. Through Nazaire, our interpreter, it soon dawns on us that whilst these little Ba'aka pygmies might have an incredible knowledge of the forest, they have little or no concept of what a map of Africa looks like let alone a Congo map or the understanding of GPS coordinates that mark 'The Heart'. Only two of them have even travelled to the nearest town of Pokola and scarier still none of them have ever attempted to cross this area before, but it is the Rainforest that is their home. Already the sweat pours off our bodies and the bugs attack in swarms. What three things to the pygmies fear most in the forest I ask. Attack from big forest leopard, angry forest elephant or the bite of Ndolo - the Gaboon Viper for which they tell us they have no cure!! 'Twende!' shouts Ross in Lingala - 'Let's go! 'The lead porters swing their machetes, thick vines are cut into pieces, raise the end to your mouth and out pours crystal clear drinking water, roots are used as bush potatoes to add to the cassava pot, thin vines are used as string to tie up the loads. The beauty of this forest wonderland is unimaginable, these are the lungs of Mama Africa. A Silverback crashes through the thick undergrowth as we walk in the soft light under a canopy of ancient trees with buttress roots that tower above us. Using fingers and toes and monkey ropes the Ba'aka climb dangerously high to smoke out bees, allowing us to greedily suck out the energy giving wild honey from the waxy honeycombs. 'Dumidumi' shout the porters, pointing to the sky, the rain drums down relentlessly. Sopping wet, skins torn by vines, we make camp in the pouring rain. I'ts incredibly tough going,6 hours of skirting deep swamplands comes with the harsh reality that we've only made just over one kilometre as the crow flies, and this is just the beginning in our quest to find the Heart. Will keep you posted.