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‹ Previous (19/05/2007) MONTH Next (2007-07-18)› ‹ Previous (2007-05-16 - Cameroon) COUNTRY Next (2007-06-27 - Congo)› Gabon Libreville (see on map) 20/06/2007:
On Monday the adventure to discover which the best option was - if there was any- to continue the journey up to south Africa. We went to the embassy of this country to know if we needed visa to entry if we arrived by boat (Alexandra needed), we went to the train station to ask for the cost of loading the car up to Franceville (about 400 € including the thicket for us), we went with one of the boys from the maritime transport to all the naval companies (there was only one boat towards Cape Town with a cost superior to 3000 € to load the car). Facing the economic impossibility to arrive to south Africa on sea we had the only option of continuing overland passing for R Congo and RD Congo and trying to obtain the visa of Angola in one of these two countries, if we did not obtain it we would find ourselves caught and could only keep going ahead all the south of RD Congo, that it did not seem such a good idea. Luckily, yesterday Ben and Maria wrote us an e-mail and reported us that a visa of 5 days for Angola could be obtained from Matadi, in RD Congo. 5 days were insufficient, because Alexandra has only one blank page in the passport; at the embassy of Romania in Lunada they commented that they could solve the problem from there, but not in 5 days. Anyway we have the expectation to obtain a visa of 30 days or to extend it from Luanda. So, we would follow the way on road, but these days Alexandra was exhausted. She was saying that she cannot deal anymore with the corrupt police and with the terrible African roads; that she did not want to pass through Congo where the police would rob us and kill us afterwards; that if they did not kill us we could not enter Angola, the pages of the passport would be finished for her and she would end up being illegal in some country... We visited some air companies to know which had flights to Europe and Alexandra seemed decided to take one, but spent all the days crying that she did not want to leave me alone. In the end, yesterday on the beach, while meditating about the situation she found a coin and she thought: - When one has to take an important decision and finds a coin, he has to trust with the luck and the destiny - she explained me afterwards. She threw the coin two times and both times it came that she should stay. Having decided to follow the journey overland, we only had to know which was the best route to reach R Congo. I asked to the boys of the office of the maritime transport if they knew where the ministry of transport was, perhaps they could inform about the state of the roads, but they started to laugh, those of the ministry would be the most misinformed. This morning we have gone to ask the embassy of R Congo, and a very nice consul has recommended me to go for Franceville, because afterwards, in the Congo the roads were much better. Afterwards, Alexandra has left to connect Internet and I have taken advantage to fix the wheel. When I have gone to look for Alexandra in the cibercafé, a man has stopped us and started to talk with Alexandra in Romanian. The man has explained us that he was Romanian architect and it’s already five years since he is working in Gabon, although for him its all a vacation due to the paused working rhythm. We have been conversing in a very expensive bar, he has led us afterwards to visit a centre of craftsmanship and he has finally suggested us to meet and dine in a Romanian restaurant. But at night he didn’t come, although the restaurant was worthed. I have asked for sarmale, some Romanian specialty wrapped in cabbage, but Alexandra has stolen them from me because she said that they were almost as good as those that her grandmother cooks. A good way of celebrating the departure from Libreville, a rich and expensive city, with high buildings along a big avenue that passes in front of the Atlantic Ocean; a city with a lot of white or expatriates that observed our caravan with curiosity from their powerful 4x4; a city with a lot of traffic in the rush hours or at every hour, because the trades closed at noon with the most different timetables; also a city with many police controls that have annoyed Alexandra more than once, although we have been informed by other travellers that the police of Gabon is the most corrupt in Africa. Franceville (see on map) 23/06/2007:
We initiated the road towards Franceville moving back through the road that we had done to arrive to Libreville, but at mid-afternoon we had to divert to the right, and the fears started to appear. In front of us we had an unknown track of about 500 kilometres, which some sources defined it as impassable with our auto caravan. Anyway, the only option seemed to arrive to Congo and therefore, i was ready to risk the integrity of the auto caravan and to leave it destroyed in the middle of the road in exchange of being able to continue with our journey. The small track seemed that it had to end in the middle of the jungle. We found some difficult parts that we passed circulating very slowly and we made the idea of covering the 500 kilometres in about four days. When it started to darken, we found a home next to the track and asked if we could park there and to be able to spend the night with them. They gave me licence without any type of problem. Hanging from a tree they had a gigantic rat and a small deer which for sure they wanted to sell to the non-existent drivers of the track. After a while two men arrived from the forest each with a shotgun. One of them had a small monkey hanging from a hand and the other one was loaded with a big packet. When passing for my side I realised that the packet was a boa trapped among lianas. They unloaded the dead animals in front of the house and extended the boa of about four meters. The man who took it started to relate how they had hunted it while the others were dying laughing as they heard the second have run away when he saw the boa. But they still laughed more when I called Alexandra so that she can see the boa. She thought that it was a joke and she walked with confidence towards the house but I told her to stop when she was about to tread on the dead tail. For little she didn’t revive the boa with the shout and the jump that she did situating herself behind me. The day after we continued for the track that followed with complicated crossings, touching the ground from time to time and losing the tap that i had repaired in Niger. In other sectors the wrinkled track shook with violence the auto caravan if we did not circulate slowly, but even then, on half of the way Alexandra smelt an unbreathable gas that pricked us in the eyes. We stopped and we went out running from the auto caravan and I then discovered that a tube of the refrigerating gas of the fridge had an escape. Alexandra was desperate and told me that the car would break in a complete way if we did not move back and that otherwise she will leave me with the first ocasion. I also thought that the track towards Franceville would still worsen more, but after eating,the road turned less complicated, and we found at mid-afternoon a new track built after the rains. It did not stop being a great luck that we had arrived to the south hemisphere when the rains had finished and lowered through Cameroon when these started and they were not very intense yet. Today we have continued for the new track. After about eighty kilometres the track has worsened, it seemed to have a year, but even then was much better that the section of the first day and we have been able to reach Franceville mid-afternoon. It has been much simpler than we imagined and to celebrate it - and to celebrate also the solstice of summer, the day in which the sun is further from the equator - we have dined in the hotel "Beverly Hills", managed by a Moroccan that we have met and he has invited us to camp in his parking place. 24/06/2007:
Franceville is a developed town, with pretty homes and street lights, situated on some hills. Through the surroundings there are other hills with a lot of lawn and fields that do not seem cultivated. It is only a landscape very different to the typical impenetrable jungle that you can find normally in Gabon, although to reach Franceville also we crossed similar ecosystems, in one of which there was a nature reserve with elephants that hid from us, we just saw the big shit on the track. The three previous days we had been circulating for the track with the windows opened - we will not do it ever again- so, today in the morning we have spent it four hours cleaning in depth the auto caravan to take about three or four kilos of dust. In the afternoon to look for the reward, we circulated for a pretty track - with the windows closed – and we saw a bridge made of lianas (some of the few touristy attractions of Gabon). It is interesting because the structure of about twenty or thirty meters long seems quite firm. But we have not enjoyed it in a complete way because when crossing they have informed us that we had to pay a ridiculously high fee and we have said no returning followed by the shouts of the guardian. Congo Mbie (see on map) 27/06/2007:
The guardian at the border of Gabon informed us: - With your car you will not be able to arrive to Congo, no car without full traction dares to cross this track of sand, except in rainy season, when the sand is compact. - We have arrived from Spain till here and this road is the only one that allows us to continue. - And I thought: "50 or 100 kilometres of sand will not be able to stop us in a journey of 300.000 kilometres". We followed the tarred road but we arrive to some military barracks. There they informed us again about not being able to cross to Congo, but anyway they told us to try the new road that the Chinese were building. We followed a car that kept distributing food among the shy Chinese workers and we arrived at the border of Congo where a track of sand continued surrounded of a savannah of dry and low grass. We went on the track that little by little was becoming more complicated with deep crossings of sand in one of which we got stuck. It took about two hours to go out using the irons that i had bought in Mali and a shovel that my mother had given me. When going out of the soft sand we realised that there was a protection of the engine that fell off and that it had entered quite a lot of sand in the engine. I fixed the protection of plastic with a wire and we follow the course with a new tactic: not to get stuck when the rut was deep again we had to slide at a speed the sand raised above until the wheels had traction again. And like this we did it during some kilometres, skidding above the sand and Alexandra being very scared. But we found a big section of deep rut and heard a strange noise of the engine and we stopped to evaluate the situation. The protection of the engine was pulled out with the sand jumping among the drive belts, some of which had just been disintegrated, completely. The engine stopped alone without being able to start it again. Then I was conscious that I need help to repair it. We were in the middle of nothing and without having crossed any car in three hours. We made about 10 or 20 kilometres circulating for the track and at the border they had told us that the first village of Congo is found at about 25 kilometres. Alexandra, whom the previous time we had blocked in the sand, had cried that we would not go out of there, now she was quite serene and before I took any decision she commented: - You should go to the first village in Congo to ask for help. I did not have too much time to think about the best option. It was three and a half in the afternoon and was not safe to arrive at night to the next village. I took a rucksack and we load it with water, food, a bit of the disintegrated belt, a machete, a torch, repellent for mosquitoes, money and the passport. I started to walk through the deserted path, trying to guess what there was beyond the wavy and sterile horizon. But behind every hill the dusty path followed tireless in front of me. After an hour I started to think that maybe the village was at more than 25 kilometres, but I then started to distinguish marks in the sand and i imagined that perhaps i am near. In spite of everything, after another hour the marks kept accompanying me and I already invented names to make the difference between them: "the mule", the bare foot", "the print of panther"... Perhaps it was not of a panther but it seemed bigger than the mark of a dog and I took the machete out of the rucksack just in case and I kept walking prepared to give a mortal knock in any moment. The sun started to set and I started to worry in the face of the perspective of passing the night outside. Suddenly, in a small forest, the marks gave up the track of sand and were lost on a small road on my right. I was meditating a while and decided to continue the course for the small road where probably there would be some village where I could protect myself during the night. I kept going down for the road but this did not arrive to any place, it was darkening and i could hardly distinguish the marks. I feared of the wild animals and of the poisonous snakes but I had no option but to follow or to return to the autocaravan. Finally, when it was already lacking little for the black night, the little road arrived again into the track of sand. I was about to return behind through the track of sand but I then distinguished the beginning of some village on my right. In front of me there was a barrier of the customs and on its side a guard that me asked when I approached: - Have you had a breakdown to the car? - Yes - and I next explained the situation, i had walked for three hours, i have my woman waiting in the car and i came to them village to look for some mechanic. But there were not any, however he commented me that after little it would pass a 4x4 on the way to Gabon that could get me back to my wife and that the day after probably would pass some trucks that could drag us up to the village or further on. As the guard predicted, a 4x4 passed as was going to buy gas oil in Gabon and after negotiating the price I went in the back among the bottles. When it first shake I almost fell off, but holding as strong as possible we arrived at last where there was the auto caravan. Alexandra did not seem to be there, but when I called her and she appeared from the bushes with two bags we have embraced as if we had not seen each other for a long time. While i had been outside she had caught all the valuable things and taken them outside for whether bandits appeared. At night we woke up to the minimum noise, although the guard of the border had assured me that there were neither wild animals nor bandits through the area. The day after, as they had predicted, some trucks passed on the way to Congo. We asked them to drag us out of the sand and they accepted after negotiating the price. I took and held a special rope between both vehicles but the first time that we enter in a hole of sand it broke. The rope broke about five times more, but I finally managed to get along with the driver of the truck so that he drove slower. They left us in Mbie, in the frontier village, and the head of the truck drivers told us that he would try to find the belt that had disintegrated and that he would bring it to us the following day - but he did not appear again. Anyway, while we waited, I dismantled a wheel and loosened the other belt to prepare the installation of the new one. I also had time to discover new problems: the starting system of the engine did not work and the alternator was blocked (probably due to the crumbled belt). Today I have worked a little at the car, put a protection of clothes in the engine that will probably break the next time that we block, pricked softly the alternator with a hammer making come out all of the sand that had entered until it has unblocked, and made the same with the starting system but I have not obtained the same result. Afterwards a big truck has passed towards Gabon that has told us that tomorrow will return and will be able to drag us. And finally it has passed a 4x4 that has sold me a belt, which despite being long will be able to be cut back if i don’t find another. In any case, Alexandra believed that next morning the truck will take us out of this small populated village and she did not let me work more. At noon we have passed a good while with Anton, the guard of the border that was alone because it comes from another area of the country and does not speak the language of the people up in the north. he explained to us that the Gabonese look for the prestige and do not want to work, because of that, the Congolese of the border are going to work in Gabon sporadically, they return afterwards and they rest until the money is finished. Anyway, the women work a lot all the day, at home and in the field. Next he has explained us that in Congo there is democracy just with the word, if the army does not like the elected president they put another. Anyway, at present the president is a general that organised the election in his favour and it seems that that he gives stability to the country, although it also seems to be a good president and he is also talking with the opposition. Finally he complained about Mbie where the people live as in the old times, grungy and jealous, and not wanting for others to prosper... so, the people do not invert money to prosper and they simply hide the money. Anyway, in other towns of Congo it doesn’t seem to be the same. Perhaps when the road of the Chinese is completed in 2009 the mentality of the people will change, although some villages without telephone and light will keep being poor and they will keep living in the misery. In the afternoon we went to the river through the village, where some inhabitants are going to bath almost every day, meeting on the way there very open and nice people. 30/06/2007:
We waited for the truck that had to turn back from Gabon and drag us out of this small, isolated and non-communicated village called Mbie. We waited for it on Wednesday, on Thursday and also today. On Wednesday, despite having expectations that the truck arrived, I asked a man of the village to adapt the belt that I bought on the previous day. I took action and we cut the belt and the man sewed it on the other end joining them to great firmness. We assembled the belt and started off the car pushing it (the starting system kept not working). The belt lasted and the battery loaded up. It seemed that our purgatory in Mbie was finally approaching the end, by that, in the afternoon i encouraged myself to try to fix the starting system. I unscrewed the starting electric motor and a lot of sand that was blocking it came out. When getting on again it, the engine started off correctly and I communicated to the sceptical Alexandra that the day after we could leave. Anyway, we supposed that the continuation of the track of sand would be complicated and we kept expecting for a truck to pass and drag us. But did not pass any truck in all the night - curiously the vehicles circulate more in the night(one per night in average) that in the daytime - and the day after in the morning we prepared the auto caravan to go. I pulled the engine, we went a hundred meters and in accelerating a little the light of the battery went on. The belt broke down again. We were still trapped in Mbie. Discouraged but still hoping in the arrival of the truck, we spent the rest of the day conversing with Anton (the guard of the border). Anton was explaining to us how the combats between lions and elephants or among panthers and wild boars were produced gesticulating with great expressivity; he also told us that the boas pass a lot of hunger and that they can be a month in a point expecting for an antelope to pass; however, other snakes have it easier, because they can throw poison. In any case - he kept explaining - the wild animals rarely attack the man, who is sacred because he talks. Later, Anton told us that his father died at the age of 112 and that he fought with the Frenchmen during the second world war. When the General de Gaulle ran away to Congo, Brazaville (the capital of the free France), the same did father. Years later,his father took again the weapons, this time to fight against the Frenchmen and to release the country. With the truck driver that was going to Gabon we were conversing shortly although he criticised the lack of development in central Africa caused by the corrupt governments that are supported by France. During the night we were more pending than ever whether a truck was coming, listening between the sounds of crickets and the far away songs of children . I felt as a shipwrecked sailor expecting a boat to cross the horizon. We fall asleep, but we heard the noise of an engine, a truck at midnight, I dressed as quickly as possible and I went towards the truck that was waiting on the border. I asked the truck driver whether he could pull us and he answered that he was loaded with two containers and that he could not drag more. Today we have been all the day loosing time, without desires of making use of it or to enjoy the passing seconds. i did not had the desire to talk with Anton, nor to walk again or making photos to the nice people of the village, nor carrying about the children who always surrounded us interested and which from time to time brought fruits to sell us or to give us for free. I have been most of the day doing competitions of sudoku with Alexandra. Only in a moment in the afternoon I decided I am not able just to sit and wait. I have taken the broken belt and returned to the man who had joined it to ask him to try it in another way, but he has not seen it clear and I have been discouraged again. We did not have potable water and we were drinking from the deposit of the auto caravan and the food was also about to finish, and in the village there was no shops nor agriculture, that's why yesterday we decided that I would take the first car that passed and go to look for help in the following village, Leketi, where there was a company directed by an Italian with different trucks under his command. But it has not passed any car in all the day until the night again when the noise of an engine has woken me up. I have dressed myself with haste but I was still sleepy. I have left with the eyes barely open towards the 4x4 and I have asked them whether they could take me up to Leketi. They have said yes, but that i should go in the back, with four more people, balancing on the boxes of drinks. I was too tired for such an adventure but fortunately, before going i have joined the little energy that I had and have gone straight to the 4x4. The track of sand was in better state that the previous section, even then I had to grab strongly the belts that sustained the boxes. When we reached Leketi it was half past eleven, and I did not know where i would spend the night, maybe in the police control where there was a mattress shared by three people, but one of those that had come with the 4x4 accompanied me up to the company of the Italian assuring me that i could sleep there. The guardian of the enclosure woke up Mafi, the Italian that had heard about our situation in Mbie. He told me that that same night he planned on leaving to Brazaville until Tuesday and that therefore he could not send any truck to Mbie. Anyway, he suggested coming with Alexandra and sleep in a room for guests that the company owned and he will try to find the belt in Brazaville. Leketi (see on map) 03/07/2007:
Alexandra was happy when I arrived on Sunday in the morning with a 4x4 of the company of Mafi and I informed that we would pass some days in Leketi expecting a new belt to arrive. We prepared the bags and after expecting the driver to finish drinking two beers in the only bar of the village we left Mbie. About five women made use of the journey to go to the place where they had mobile coverage at about five kilometres away from the village. Mafi had assigned us a comfortable room and in the living room of the company there was television with satellite channels, but Alexandra immediately found the inconveniences: the room was crossed through a path of small ants and in the village of Leketi it was not possible either to obtain food. Although Stevy, the cook and responsible for the home of guests, tried to make our lives easier , Alexandra has spent the three days behaving as a neurotic wild animal locked up among fences. Despite preferring continuing the journey I have tried to make use of the stay in Leketi to know a little the village and its people. Stevy showed me the project of the company: the construction of a port next to a large river. Anyway, the government had stopped financing the project and this was dying slowly, in the same way that the construction of a small hotel that another white had projected in the area. So, Leketi was just as non-communicated as Mbie, except for the telephonic antenna that gave coverage to the mobile telephones, and we took advantage to phone our parents and communicate them that everything is fine. The people of Leketi also had a character similar to those of Mbie, nice and greeting with charisma when i walked with Stevy. Stevy is a calm and serene young man, but exalted and mischievous when he drinks a few beers. Despite depending on his hospitality, Stevy did not take advantage of our situation and behave as a real friend, inviting the first round of beer, offering to show me the village, obtaining food when it was possible, providing us with bottles of water of the company or sharing interesting conversations or relaxed moments of silence. The same uninterested character seemed to maintain with the animals, taking care of a cub that he fed with pasta, rice and banana and of a young eagle that he fed when he had meat or raw fish. But these days there was no meat, because since this evening, saddened by the fact that the eagle hadn’t been eating for three days and he was pitifully asking for food, I have made the impossible to hunt a small lizard that the eagle has eaten up with great avidity. Walking through the meadows of high grass that grew on the sand around the village, I asked Stevy why there were no flocks of goats grazing. Stevy explained me that the men in Leketi - of the bateke tribe, insisted - do not feel like working (the women yes they work hard), they neither want foreigners to arrive and to make use of the resources of the village and in that way to become rich. In the same way, even if they do not usually hunt nor fish, they hate the foreigners coming and doing it. That's why Dany, a gardener that we visited and from whom I bought some eggplants, did not have it easy to start to cultivate his small land and to initiate a business selling plants and legumes. On the other hand, Stevy explained to me that among the people of the village there are not thefts because they would kill the thief using voodoo or "cric-cric", however if they can rob the foreigners, because their magic or "fetish" can not affect the village. In Brazaville it is different - he kept talking -, because there are many weapons from the last civil war and if they want to kill somebody they prefer taking the shotgun or a grenade. Today, Stevy has explained to me that he has a girlfriend in Leketi and another one in Brazaville, and he plans on marrying once he has brought a dowry together to pay the fathers of the future wife. The dowry is costly but has its positive part for the man, because in the event of divorce provoked by the woman, the man recovers the dowry, this way the wife is more docile not to create problems to her parents. Oyo (see on map) 05/07/2007: i had just read a book about travellers that encounter difficulties along the yoyage and who are helped with kindness and altruism by unknown people and I myself could today write another chapter of the book. Yesterday in the morning Mafi arrived from Brazaville with the belt and before midday he organised a small team to go and rescue the autocaravan. Mafi drove a big machine that cleared the track of the dunes of sand and I and two other boys followed him with a 4x4. In Mbie we assemble the belt while Mafi worked with the machine on the track to Gabon. When we finished with the belt and the broken protection of the engine we started off towards Lekety. But after going five hundred meters I stopped to look if there was any problem and I found that both belts were breaking on the side. Mafi arrived and told us that we had put both in an incorrect position and we dismantled again everything and reassembled. The protection was half broken but we continued the road. But as we crossed the first village I blocked in the soft sand. Then Mafi pulled me out with the machine and from here we continued the road with Mafi leveling the ground all the time. Like this we reached the base of Leketi after 5 hours and 50 covered kilometres. Alexandra was very happy to see her small home again and I was very happy that Stevy had cooked a delicious dinner with ingredients that Mafi had bought in Brazaville. We dined (just the three whites) drinking a good French wine and conversing - mainly Alex and Mafi - on how little work the blacks and the consequent underdevelopment of Africa. Today we have put the auto caravan in service and two mechanics of the company have tightened the belts correctly, they have covered up a hole of the engine where the sand entered sand and they have improved the protection and also they made a shovel for me just in case. Afterwards we have filled the deposit of the auto caravan with diesel from the company and as i knew that Mafi would not accept money for all the help I have given him a pretty volcanic stone that we had bought in Morocco. At ten in the morning we have started off. We had 150 kilometres of track of sand in front. Mafi had told us that there were complicated parts but that if we circulated with calm we would get through. Anyway, a 4x4 of the company would pass in the afternoon and one on the following day, therefore they could help us if we remained blocked. It hasn’t been easy, not even close to easy, but we have done it. i tried always to circulate through the high places but it was not always possible and the protection of the engine often came off and I had to find new systems to hold it. There were deep crossings of sand that could only be passed if the car had sufficient speed. Anyway, we got stuck in five points. The first time it has taken us an hour to go out, having to use about three or four times the irons. The second time we have blocked at the entry of some village, the children and adults came together around the car, they have helped us pushing but we also had to use the irons. The third time we have used the irons again and levelled about forty meters of track with the shovels. The technique improved because we have been just half an hour taking out sand but we were out of power. Alexandra could not do it anymore and I continued with signs of fainting although from time to time i stopped. Not to get stuck again we have stopped a couple of times to level the track when there was deep rut. But it was too exhausting and in a point where we should have done the same we got stuck again. We have taken again the irons but for luck, after little passed the 4x4 of the company from Leketi and we were finally out of sand. We have kept following it and he has taken us out of the last hole. Anyway, the 4x4 circulated rapidly in front and I had to disregard the protection and to cross over in a fast way sliding on the difficult crossings. But finally, at five in the afternoon we have arrived to the tarred road. I was singing with Alexandra "We are the champions" of Fredy Mercury and then we have reached Oyo. we have parked in front of a hotel and we have tried to sleep, but even if we were dead tired it has taken us a while to come to relax cause all the images of the track were coming in our head and the muscles were still contracted. 06/07/2007: Oyo is the town where the president of Congo was born, is not surprising then that the town has some magnificent houses and that the centre is crossed by a wide avenue surrounded by typical African markets and shops. Anyway, we have not stopped in Oyo for tourism. We needed to shop but especially to revise the engine. This morning we have parked in a calm street in front of the office of a transport company and I have dismantled the wheel for the nth time to check the belts and I have tightened one that screeched and I have put another that had fallen yesterday. I have also increased the pressure of the wheels that i had deflated to pass better on the sand, but I have dismantled before the starting electric motor that was making strange noises again. As the previous time I have taken out quite a lot of sand sand. Before getting it on I have put a little oil inside but when wanting to start off the engine, the motor was completely blocked. I have dismantled again but I didn’t get any positive result. Then I have communicated to Alexandra that was already annoyed that i should dismantle completely the starter and clean it. But it was not an easy thing to do and some truck drivers who have seen me with difficulties came to help me before I made anything stupid. The great quantity of mechanics in Africa, that know how to solve problems, is curious. With great precision they have dismantled all the parts of the electric motor, cleaned it with gasoline, covered it afterwards with grease - they have told me that i can not do it with oil - and put it on again. The engine started off very softly. The men that have been helping me left gradually, the last one was also about to be gone without asking anything in exchange of his valuable help, but I have called him back and gave him some sunglasses. Brazzaville (see on map) 10/07/2007:
There were many days now since we haven’t connected to Internet and that is one of the first things that we made when arriving to Brazzaville. Among the worried e-mails of the last two weeks when we seemed to have disappeared, there was one frozen my blood. Ben and Maria that were doing the same itinerary as us with one 4 x 4 wrote us from Namibia with the following words: "I can promise you that you will never be able to cross Angola with your auto caravan. We have found here the worst roads of all Africa". We had arrived to Brazzaville with pain and work, we had sung "we are the champions" because we had thought that from now the roads would improve, and they suddenly informed us that we did not have any option of continuing our journey with the auto caravan. When I communicated the bad news to Alexandra and added that I would continue the journey even if i had to risk our means of transport and living, Alexandra caught another nervous crisis. She explained to me that she had already passed it quite badly in Mbie and Leketi and that she could not pass for an equal or worse situation again. Her family at the other side of the world pressed her so that she returned and this time, I also cheered her up so that she actually did it. she was too stressed out, she was all the time cursing everybody, complaining about not doing the journey in a 4 x 4, crying every two of three, her hair was falling off... But I also told her that i would not wait for her, cause further on in the journey we would find new difficulties and she could not be running away every time. And that, together with the thought that during her absence I would cheat her with black girls, still retained her with me. Also although we were looking for air flight thickets and we found a very good offer, with which she was fantasising the following days, today, in the end she has decided to remain on my side whatever might happen. Anyway, while Alexandra meditated on her future, we went to the embassy of RDC (the other Congo) and asked them if they knew the state of the roads to Angola, but they did not know anything, not even the state of the road in the south of their country on the way to Zambia. We also went to ask the embassy of Angola, where a man has been able to inform us today that the main route towards Luanda was not the road that Ben and Maria took, but another one that passed through other village. That has given me expectations and a little also to Alexandra. In spite of everything, today we had an appointment with a doctor for the stress of Alex and the consequent falling of the hair and he has prescribed some homeopathic blue tablets for her. So, this afternoon Alexandra was convinced that she wants to continue and has communicated to her mother that she preferred taking the blue tablets that allow her to continue the journey with me, instead of returning to Europe where she could find again her family, friends, preferred food, the studies... So, we have lived three and a half intense days in Brazzaville and we have not had too much time for tourism, coerced also by reading that only 10 years ago, during the civil war, the militias walked with the heads of the decapitated enemies in the patrolling cars. Anyway, it is also true that there are few details that remember this macabre past, only around ten buildings still in ruin and with visible shrapnel marks. The rest of the city is modern, with high buildings and big avenues. In spite of its past, it is also a calm and safe city, or that is what has explained us different people, for example a Cuban that markets Chinese building material and we met him on the first day. He told us that he lived in Brazzaville for 12 years, during the war also, but although he explained us that during those times an ambassador was murdered with total impunity and the two daughters of another were raped, he felt safe all the time. RD Congo Matadi (see on map) 12/07/2007:
The blue tablets do not have any effect for now. Even though Brazzaville and Kinshassa are the two closest capitals in the world, separated only by a river, to cross it and to pass to the other country is not so simple, and Alexandra has lost again the nerves. I had informed myself beforehand about all the costs, but at the time of the truth everything was more and I did not have sufficient CFA (the Centre-African coin). I have been more of half an hour discussing with the guards of the port because i did not want to pay the 15 € that they said that i had to pay to pass, but I was in the end convinced that i should end up paying and I have had to change 10€. We have passed the formalities of immigration and customs with calmness, but at the time of embarking have found that the thicket was also more expensive (70 €) from what they had previously told me, and without discussing too much I changed 20 € more. But next they did not let us enter the boat because they said that we had paid the thicket too late, although discussing a little more we could cross the gate. Then all our papers were checked by a policeman and he told me that a stamp is missing in the document of the car. It was useless to discuss more, I went up to the barracks of the police where they sealed the document and finally could go up to the boat, but Alexandra on foot, because those were the norms for the passengers. Alexandra was completely out of her mind, saying that everything was my fault and of the lack of civilisation of the blacks (it is also true that previously Alex had addressed them the same bad words, obstructing some of the formalities). During the thirty minutes of journey Alexandra didn’t calm down continuing with the insults, but as we reached Kinshassa, an officer of the police asked her to accompany him to carry out the papers of immigration and customs while I took the car out. Alexandra followed him very annoyed, being lost among the crowd of blacks, some of which moved big packets up and down, sweating and the slaves panting as they formerly did it. But it was a good treatment for Alex, because when I found her again, she was conversing happy with a policewoman. Afterwards she explained to me that they had treated her very well. Alexandra had forbidden me to stop in Kinshassa. From Brazzaville they had explained to us that the police of Kinshassa can rob you by night, without hiding their faces with total impunity. They had also explained to us that it was dangerous to walk through the city, although there were crowds that did it. In any case, something of all this must be true, because most of the official buildings and rich houses had watchtowers and they were surrounded by thorny metallic threads and high walls. But although we managed our way out, we have lasted a good while passing through rich and poor neighbourhoods of this city of more than 5 million inhabitants. RDC is one of the African countries with less kilometres of tarred road per inhabitant, but for us it has been the country with better roads, because one of the few roads that is tarred is the one that goes towards Matadi, a city port with Portuguese colonial architecture. During the road, different police officers (all nice) and other people have been informing us that the deviation of the track that goes to Angola was found before reaching Matadi, a different track to the one that Ben and Maria took. In the consulate of Angola in Matadi they have also informed us that the recommended track should be passable with our auto caravan. We have calmed down quite a lot in this sense and we have discarded the option of taking a boat from Matadi to Luanda. In the consulate they also informed us about the cost of the visa that we will get tomorrow: 80 dollars each, for a visa of only 5 days that we will have to extend in Luanda (probably paying much more). It is the most expensive visa that we have found up to the moment. Seeing all the difficulties that we have had until now to obtain the Angolan visa (in the embassy of Brazzaville they did not have adhesives for the visa), it does not seem that we are very well welcomed in Angola. Tomorrow we will discover it. Angola Luanda (see on map) 16/07/2007:
We still lack a hundred kilometres to arrive to Luanda, but it is as if we had already arrived and we have today sung once again "We are the champions". These three days have been an odyssey and i do not find it strange anymore that Ben and Maria said that it would be impossible to arrive to Luanda with our auto caravan, but in spite of the adversities we have obtained it. On Friday we waited till three and a half for the consul of Angola to arrive, to be able to collect our visa. Before however, we had to answer a quite absurd interview with questions of the type: "say the name of a brother of your father", "you have ever been in prison"?. The visa of Angola consisted of an adhesive where they had written by hand, " 5 days transit". So, it was evident that the instructions of the Angolan government were of not giving tourist visa for no one, and so the tourists went as quickly as possible through their country. In the same situation had been Ben and Maria and also Tim, a boy who traveled in motorcycle and that we met in the consulate. We would have been fortunate if we had crossed the border the same Friday at night, because the day after, the border was crowded with trucks and people that wanted to cross because on every Saturday there was market between the two borders. it took us more than 5 hours to be attended to, meanwhile observing as the policemen disciplined the people with fists and sticks. Finally we could cross the border of Congo and also the one of Angola (troublefree) and then it started the real odyssey. Summary: Saturday: 65 km in 5 hours, the first four hours with an average of 10 km/hr. Damages: a part of the exhaust pipe fell off and the stairs of the auto caravan cannot be used anymore. Sunday: 190 km in 10 hours. Damages: the starting system went crazy, but we parked the car just in case in position that eases the possibility to start the engine in a different way. Today: 170 km in 10 hours, the first three hours to an average of 9 km/hr. Saturday was the worst day of the three days. When finishing the day we met Tim with his motorcycle in a small village where we camped. When seeing us he sighed happy and exclaimed: "What joy that you are here, thought that you would not manage to pass with the auto caravan through that hell". And really it was a hell: endless succession of vertiginous craters of dust and rocks delimited by deep uneven and cracked ruts. We had to have a lot of cold blood - to throw ourselves ahead thinking perhaps that we would not go out -, a lot of mental engineering - expression of Alexandra - to recognize the best stretch and a lot of skill on the steering wheel to follow it. Anyway we touched many times the ground, blocked twice (went out when Alex pushed the car) and we suffer some damages of minor importance. Sunday and today can not be compared with the previous day, but they have also been infernal. We have passed through a road for where Ben and Maria had also passed and they also described it as impossible with the following words: "the road turns asphaltic with big and deep holes". In fact the road was terrible. Alex said "we do not have a minute of calmness". The holes seemed impossible to pass. Anyway, softly went turning the frights off and advanced. And today I have already started to think with optimism that soon we will go out central of Africa and will be to relax again and meet people, see places of interest, eat better... 17/07/2007: Today it is my anniversary. I am 35 years old. Alexandra says that I have lived half of my life and I answer her that I only lived a third part. In any case, Luanda is one of the worst places of the world to celebrate an anniversary. The guide that we have says that it is the fourth most expensive city in the world (the hotels cost from 80€ And although we can not compare it with the other cities of the ranking, really the products of the supermarkets are very expensive, almost all imported. They also import plants and meat, for most of the country is sown of mines leaving the fields unused. On the other hand, Luanda is a monstrous city, the centre with modern buildings surrounded with thorny threads and the surroundings with "favelas" or neighbourhoods of huts of mud along the hills and rubbish everywhere. Another bad thing of Luanda is the traffic, terrible. From our entry in the city, we have done about two hours and a half to arrive to the embassy of Romania. There they were already warned about the arrival of Alexandra that had no more blank pages in the passport. But the ambassador recommended us to go out of Angola as soon as possible and to solve the problem of the passport in the embassy of Romania in South Africa. To be able to enter in Namibia and South Africa with the passport without blank pages tey made a travel document that it seems that will open the doors for her. On the other hand, they have told us that we do not have any possibility to extend the visa of Angola and added that it was dangerous to travel with the visa expired (a Romanian was four months ago in prison for one month because he was found in Angola with the expired visa). It expires tomorrow for us, but we maybe still have a week of journey before being able to go out of Angola. In any case, today in the afternoon, after carrying out all the papers with the embassy and buying something good to celebrate my anniversary, we have gone out running of Luanda towards the south. ‹ Previous (19/05/2007) MONTH Next (2007-07-18)› ‹ Previous (2007-05-16 - Cameroon) COUNTRY Next (2007-06-27 - Congo)› |
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