Friday 11 May 2007

DRC / Angola

Well, stone me if it didn't just get all difficult! This somewhat delayed report comes direct from the lovely town of Tsuemb in northern Namibia! Naartjie is dead - or at least nearly dead. As I write this, he's being loaded onto a lorry to travel 400km south to Windhoek, where maybe the surgeons will be able to save him. I'll need to get the bus. However, I'm delighted that he broke down here in civlisation as the last 10 days in Angola and DRC would not have been good ones for a vehicular mishap.

Anyway, what's been going on since Brazzaville? Well, the ferry over the Congo to Kinshasa was a tale all of its own. As the inbound boat docked, a huge flood of filthy and ragged humanity ran off it, straight into the clutches of the waiting riot police who spent the next half hour fighting them with rubber batons. Waiting to go to the place where these people had just arrived from, I felt like a Red Army private about to cross the river to reinforce Stalingrad - well maybe not, but I was a bit scared. The boat itself took 4 hours to load and go and I sat there in my bike gear in the 37C heat getting a bit dizzy. Embarrassingly, on arrival in Kinshasa, I collapsed from dehydration and exhaustion (it having been a tough few days) and had to endure the shame of the Red Cross pulling my clothes off in public and the DRC Police tipping cold water over my head. Once I'd got my act toghether, I headed out of Kinshasa, as I still wasn't feeling tip-top and it's a big and hectic place.

The Bas-Congo region of DRC looks a lot like the UK, which is weird. It was all a bit rufty tufty, and the local ale - Turbo King - is vile and has advertising that is just a bit too macho. On the upside, I got a 5 day transit visa for Angola at Matadi, along with a decent Indian curry - wahey!

Angola was a whole new world of pain - the roads or lack of them were at least as bad as Rep. Congo - the first 70km took me a whole day and, during that time, I snapped my rear subframe, destroyed one pannier completely, broke my luggage rack, bent my shoulder and generally got into a right mess. Also, Naartjie got dragged 300m by a lorry that was supposed to be towing him - except I'd fallen off, and some local villagers were demanding USD100 to help pull him out of a mud pit until the local rozzers turned up with a Landcruiser fitted with a winch.

After that, I had some hassles in a refugee camp, saw numerous destroyed buldings, deserted villages and burned out tanks, failed totally to find an internet place and generally roughed it in a pretty squalid way. Angola is huge and when I got my 5 day visa they laughed and said I'd never make it in 5 days. Well, I rode 13 hours a day and did it in 5 1/2. The immgration officer at the Namibia border was so impressed he didn't even fine me for overstaying!! Needless to say, I've an endless supply of pub stories with which to bore you when I return.

The last day in Namibia has been a proper return to civilisation - there is water and electricity and proper food and roads. Just a pity that my buddy Naartjie has thrown the towel in...

I'll write again from Windhoek and tell you if the patient has recovered :-)

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

How bizarre on 2 fronts.

1)I also collapsed as well but not from heat and exhaustion, but underachievement.

2)They were using rubber batons to herd people into the shack of shame. They need you back Andy, profits are down.

Cliff

Anonymous said...

Andy

What an adventure, I'm sure you'll be able to write abook after this. I'm very glad to see that you at least made it through the darkest bits of Africa in more or less one piece.

It's a miracle you still had all your stuff after your collapse(assuming you still have it) as I would've thought that was the perfect opportunity for some pilfering.

Not far away from home now, hope you can get your bike fixed.

Johandej

North Horse said...

Yo Andy, blow me , I forget to check the Blog and post my usual poetic inanities, and beshrew me if your blessed bike doesn't fall to pieces on you.

Is this a sign of some sort, and if so what does it mean?

Perhaps the G8 should be informed.

(You'll hate this, which is the equivalent of a boss asking you when you are back in the office just before you go on holiday, but....) when and where is your returning home booze-up?

Barrie Fairhurst said...

Hi andy

I have checked the Wirral Globe and there is a 1988 Honday C50 for sale at £150.

Do they get the Globe in Angola? Anyway it is opposite the letters page where Captain Jenkins (rtrd) is blaming Tony Blair about the fortnightly rubbish collections, and car parking facilities on Market Day.

However bad things get, remember ever mile is a mile further from such banality.