We’ve just returned from the most extraordinary trip to Rwanda and, while I promise not to inflict an entire holiday slideshow on you, there are a few things that absolutely have to be shared.

Starting with the mountain gorillas.

There are some experiences that you know are going to be special before you do them, but nothing really prepares you for actually sitting in a Rwandan forest, just metres away from a mountain gorilla.

They are enormous. They are incredibly powerful. And yet watching them together, eating, playing, grooming and generally getting on with their day while we stood there completely awestruck was surprisingly peaceful.

It was genuinely one of the most incredible experiences of our lives.

After the gorillas, we moved on to a beautiful lodge beside a lake. Gorgeous views, wonderful food, idyllic surroundings…

And hippos.

Lots of hippos.

Particularly at night.

It turns out that hippos are not considerate neighbours. While we were attempting to sleep, they spent much of the night grunting, splashing and generally making it very clear that this was their lake and we were merely visitors.

There are worse reasons to be kept awake, I suppose.

But obviously, I needed to find the cheese…

At our first camp, the cheeseboard had been entirely French. I asked the chef about Rwandan cheese, and he confidently told me that there wasn’t any local cheese.

Now, you can probably imagine how well I took that.

Because if there is one thing I have learned, it is that wherever there are dairy cows, there is a reasonable chance that somewhere nearby somebody has thought, “I wonder what happens if I turn this milk into cheese?”

And sure enough, Rwanda makes cheese.

We eventually tracked down four locally made cheeses from a dairy in Kigali, all made from pasteurised cow’s milk: Blue from the Hills, Camembert, Gouda and Ricotta.

Naturally, we had to try all four.

Because this was research.

And they were a decidedly mixed bunch.

The Ricotta was probably the biggest surprise. Creamy and citrusy, with a slight kick to it, it had far more character than I was expecting and was really rather lovely.

The Camembert, unfortunately, was disappointing. It was too firm and didn’t have much flavour. If you’re expecting the soft, yielding texture and mushroomy, savoury character of a good Camembert, this wasn’t it.

The Gouda was perfectly inoffensive. There was nothing particularly wrong with it, but equally nothing that would make me seek it out for a second helping. With a world full of cheese still to eat, I’m not sure I have time for inoffensive.

But the Blue from the Hills had a bit of funk and a lovely tang to it. Quite apart from having a fabulous name, it actually had some personality — and you know I’m always going to be happier when my cheese has a bit of personality.

What I loved, though, was finding these familiar styles being made somewhere we don’t automatically think of as a cheesemaking country.

Camembert, Gouda and blue cheese may have their origins thousands of miles away, but here they were being made in Kigali from Rwandan milk. And that, for me, is part of the joy of cheese.

You can travel halfway around the world and find something completely different, yet completely familiar. Milk, cultures, salt and time — but shaped by another landscape, another climate and another cheesemaker.

So Rwanda has given us mountain gorillas, spectacular scenery, sleepless nights courtesy of hippos…

…and four more cheeses for my increasingly ridiculous quest to try every cheese on the planet.

I knew there had to be cheese here somewhere. If only we could have bought some home!

P.S. No, before anyone asks, I did not find any gorilla-milk cheese. Some lines of research are probably best left unexplored.

And here it is — our Rwandan cheeseboard. The local honey deserves a special mention because it was exceptionally good, particularly with the ricotta. The strawberries were fabulous too: sweet, juicy and absolutely full of flavour. Unfortunately for the Camembert, they had considerably more flavour than the cheese did. Sometimes the garnish wins.