The mist hangs low over Rwanda’s thousand hills, soft and silver against the morning sky. Somewhere between the valleys and the volcanic peaks, a traveler walks alone — not in isolation, but in quiet harmony with the world. The path winds through banana groves and red-clay roads, the air filled with the distant rhythm of life. Here, solo travel doesn’t feel like escape. It feels like arrival. In Kigali, the capital’s calmness sets the tone.