Democratic Republic of Congo

Tuesday 19th February 2008:

After an hour on the mighty Congo we reached Kinshasa and the DRC (formerly known as Zaire). We needed to turn Duzi2 around on the ferry before we could drive off, another rather chaotic procedure. The whole ferry crossing could be so simple if there was some sort of organisation, especially with regard to when and where to queue. There was a very visible presence of the UN in Kinshasa. As we entered the port we passed UN buildings and British soldiers acting on behalf of the UN. They met us just as we drove up off the ferry and asked if we were ok, or if we had experienced any problems of any sort, and seem to be there to check foreigners arrive safely and aren't hassled. They also gave us some advice about the route through the DRC and Angola, advising us against driving to Lubumbashi in the south of the DRC near the Zambian border (our only other option if Angola didn't allow us in) at this time of year, as the route there is largely flooded and unsafe. Safely on DRC soil, a uniformed man came and took our passports and carnet from us to be stamped elsewhere. This was very unusual and made us feel a little bit anxious, so Ross went with him as much as possible, following him out to the Customs office too.

While we were waiting for our passports to be returned, we witnessed an even more distressing scene between the police and the public, this time involving a young boy. He had obviously become separated from his mother in the madly overcrowded, cage-like fenced tunnels leading masses of people onto the ferry back to Brazzaville. The people were being herded on like cattle being loaded onto the back of a truck. A young boy was walking in amongst the sea of legs around him and was hauled out from the mass by the scruff of his neck by a policeman. He was in the mass shuffling to board the Brazzaville ferry, but was thrown out on the DRC side and chased by the policeman to get away. The policeman must have thought he was trying to escape into Brazzaville from Kinshasa. You have to try to give him some excuse for his inexplicable behaviour. The little boy was screaming for his mother and crying, looking terrified and almost on the point of wetting himself. He kept cowering away from the policeman and trying to ran back to the fence to see if he could find his mother. It was so awful. Eventually another policeman came over and showed human compassion to this poor young boy. He walked with him alongside the fence calling out until the mother and son were happily reunited again, and were both allowed to join in the shuffle to the Brazzaville ferry through the fenced tunnel.

We got our passports and carnet back after about an hour and were happily on our way through the beautiful city of Kinshasa by about 2:30pm. It had been a lengthy process, but at least we were now through it all. Kinshasa looked modern, new and much nicer than Brazzaville. There are no taxis and every car or every second car at least, is a new, sparkling, huge white UN vehicle or other humanitarian organisations vehicles, brand new Landrovers, Landcruisers or Hummers. So much for the poor aid workers and all the aid funds being pumped into Kinshasa, we could see where they're being used. The policemen at the police checks mostly waved us through as we were tourists, and they are not supposed to stop tourists. One policeman however did stop us and asked for our something rose (Carte Rose, an extra insurance certificate which we don't have), which we played dumb to, knowing our AXA insurance (Carte Brun) didn't include DRC. We showed him our driver's licenses, passports, carnet and anything else official looking until he eventually just asked for a 'coca' (Coke) or a beer, or even just some money, to which we laughed and managed to drive off, with a local man from a taxi nearby shouting at the policeman for stopping a tourist. Corruption is obviously alive and very well here in the DRC too. By this stage though, we have become accustomed to the weird and ridiculous ways they try and go about their dodgy business.

The first thing we noticed about the DRC was how green everything was and how lush the whole country looked. It was so beautiful to see rolling hills of various different shades of green grass, scattered with bright green bushes dotted on the hillsides. We realised we wouldn't be able to reach all the way to Matadi today, so drove on the lovely new tar road to a mission in Kintanu which we had waypoints for. We arrived and met one of the Sisters who said we could camp, if we could make a donation towards parking when we left. Great. We asked about ablutions, and were given a key to a room to shower in. Lack of water seemed to be a bit of an issue as there were big buckets in the shower and next to the loos, as the flush loos weren't connected. We set up for the night and had many people, a lot of them ministers, passing by asking all sorts of questions, after they got over the initial intrigue of how we had got here, by land.

Hundreds of small bats flew out from the roof of the church hall, wich had beautiful murals on it's outside walls depicting the crucifiction. The bats seemed to be living in the roof eaves of the church, which was fascinating to watch as they just seemed to keep on coming in their thousands. The rain started and it quickly turned very chilly. We decided to give a shower a miss tonight and rather shower in the morning. We slept with the duvet back on for the first time in a very long time. It's amazing how snug you sleep with a duvet.

Wednesday 20th February 2008: St Mary's Catholic Mission, Kintanu, DRC

GPS Info: S05° 07' 26.3" E15° 05' 01.6"

Miles Today: 145 Total Miles: 14 826

We both slept very well and were glad the rain had stopped so we didn't have to pack the tent away when it was wet. We decided to go and shower only to find there was NO water, not even enough to brush your teeth! While we were eating our breakfast, we had more visitors who were really interesting to talk to. We went to pay the large, rather gruff looking Sister who we rather regrettably paid CDF2 500 (US$4.00) to, who turned her nose up and laughed and demanded we pay US$5 each for camping! A very different matter from asking us the previous evening to just leave a donation for parking. We had been given no water and no real privacy while camping, as the entire school of young mechanic appies were all watching us less than 5metres from the car this morning, while their teacher was otherwise occupied. The Sister didn't seem like a real Sister and the money went straight into her smart little handbag. We would not recommend this place to stay, rather bush camp or press on to Matadi, even if it does mean you get there fairly late.

Carrying on along the good road to Matadi, we passed many heavily laden transport trucks carrying shipping containers. We were trying to figure out where they were all coming from or going to, and assumed it must be from Luanda in Angola or somewhere else on the very short DRC coastline. Arriving in Matadi just after lunchtime, we decided to firstly find out where the Angolan consulate was, as this was the reason for being here. We had already plugged in the GPS waypoints for the consulate, but just needed to find a road which would lead us there.

Finding the consulate quite easily with a little help from the locals, with it being hidden up a little track overlooking a big open market, we enquired about the visa situation. The consulate was already closed for the day, but someone came out to explain to us what was required, informing us that they were only issuing 5-day transit visas (for US$80.00 each, which needed to be paid in dollars, and CDF1 000 each for something else) and what time we should return in the morning, also mentioning that two other foreigners had arrived before us asking for the same thing. The consulate staff seemed friendly enough which gave us hope for our visa the next day.

Our next aim was to find somewhere to stay for the night, and we had earlier also plugged in the waypoints for a Catholic mission (Convent Soeurs) which others had used before, including Nic and Robin. This was in fact the very difficult to find "Sisters" mission which only charged US$5.00 each instead of the US$10.00 each which the "Brothers" mission next door charged. It was also much nicer, quieter and had a reliable water supply. We ended up driving right into the central courtyard through a big doorway, which was even just big enough to accomodate Duzi2. We parked under a big tree and set up camp in this very peaceful environment, although it did have many mozzies flying around. After an easy dinner we walked down the main road towards the town centre in search of an internet cafe, which we managed to find just a short way down. The internet connection was reasonably fast and the people were very friendly and it cost CDF15/minute. There were also amazingly no burglar guards or security of any sort on the windows of the cafe, which was full of valuable pc's and other computer equipment. This says a lot about the safety and security of this area which the world sees as so dodgy and lawless. The community themselves seem very pleasant and trustworthy and seem to respect what others have.

Strolling back up the road to the mission in the dark, we arrived before 8:30pm (before the gates were locked) to find a party on the go in the courtyard. The Sisters were celebrating a colleagues return with much fun, laughter and music. Luckily it was all over by about 10:30pm.

Thursday 21st February 2008: Convent Soeurs de la Charite, Matadi, DRC

GPS Info: S05° 49' 53.6" E13° 27' 38.8"

Miles Today: 13 Total Miles: 14 839

Today is Angolan visa day. We were up and out of the school's courtyard before 7:15am, so that the extremely cute preprimary children (3-5yrs) could play in the courtyard before school started. They were all in blue and bright white uniforms and were so tiny, neat and well mannered, greeting us as they walked past Duzi2. Some of these tiny tots arrived just after 6:15am and were quietly sitting on the benches outside their classrooms, eating their chips for breakfast. They each had a lunch box with a little flask for their drink. Most came to school holding their older siblings hand who walked on through the courtyard to the high school next door. Some came with proud moms and dads, but only a few. They were very independent for being so little, and all so happy to be at school. They were all so cute, it made Heidz really miss The Children's House. While we were eating our breakfast parked outside the school gate, the headmistress brought a big group of mixed age children out to visit us. The head was so lovely and so kind to the children.

School started with all the children and the teachers lined up outside in the courtyard. The teachers marched around with them and the children singing loudly in French. Some of the teachers were drumming while the children sang and prayed. The quietly spoken, calm headmistress spoke to all of them and then they sang some more. They must have sung and danced outside for at least an hour.We watched them all doing their warm ups, dances and action sing songs, before driving to the Angolan embassy.

Louis and Daniel, who we'd met the day before yesterday on the ferry from Brazzaville to Kinshasa, were also waiting outside to apply for their visas too.The embassy opened just after 8.30am, and we were met by a friendly man at the first office next to the entrance gate. We had to write a letter of request to the Angolan Consul requesting a visa. We were told what to write and given paper to write it on. With this done, we were told to go around the corner and wait in the very elaborate green and gold chairs of the embassy lounge in the main building. There was very little reading material and it was all outdated and in Portuguese.

We waited for hours, with lots of people filling up the lounge area and all falling asleep. We met the Angolan Consul, a lovely man who had lived in exile in America since 1975 when the Angolan war broke out. He sounded very American. The heavens opened and poured very heavily. Luckily we were inside the lounge while this was happening, but various leaks became obvious in the elaborate lounge's roof. After about 4 1/2hrs we were given visa application forms, which basically meant we would be granted Angolan visas! At long last!!! We completed our Portuguese visa application forms, handed over 2 id photos and US$80 each (in US$s) plus CDF1 000 each. We waited for over an hour until being called in to an 'interview', where we were each asked many rather strange questions about our political affiliations, what specific religion we were, our father's or mother's brothers or sisters names and ages, how much we paid for our SA passports etc...The writing all seemed a bit complicated for one of the interviewees. With this over, we were told to go back to the lounge, now clear of all the other people other than Louis and Daniel. We waited until we were brought our passports with a 5 day Angolan transit visa stuck in! At long last, 3pm, we had our Angolan visa issue sorted out and we'll head there tomorrow.

No one at the embassy could tell us how much it would cost us to extend our visa by a few days, but they all reassured us it would be possible in any town in Angola without any problem.

With our visas granted, we got special permission to walk over the new, big, fancy over the huge Congo River. We parked Duzi2 on the one side and walked over to just over half way thanks to the kind army officer on the Matadi side of the bridge. There was a big, loaded container ship coming down the Congo River which docked in at Matadi, which is a big port. This explained why we had seen so many loaded container trucks. From here we drove to the border post at the DRC / Angola frontier to find out their opening times for tomorrow so we can go through quickly and early so we don't waste any of our precious 5 days here unnecessarily. We went back to the mission for a quieter night than last night, but still lots of mozzies.

Before going to bed we walked down to the internet cafe nearby to check on emails and put a message on the website about finally getting our Angolan visas, even if they were just for 5 days.

Friday 22nd February 2008: Convent Soeurs de la Charite, Matadi, DRC

GPS Info: S05° 49' 53.6" E13° 27' 38.8"

Miles Today: 188 Total Miles: 15 027

Waking up early we were quite excited and a little apprehensive about finally being able to continue south into Angola at last. We watched all the little children arriving at school again and left when they were in the middle of the early morning routines of singing, dancing and marching.

Buying fresh bread and diesel along the way, we drove across to the DRC/ Angolan border at 8:15am just a few kilometres out of town, and marvelled again at the sheer size of the big Congo River. Unfortunately the Customs man hadn't arrived yet, so we had a short wait before he could stamp our Carnet. Luckily he knew what he was doing and it was completed very quickly. We needed this to be completed before we had our passports stamped by Immigration. This is when everything slowed down a lot. There seemed to be a huge G O -S L O W happening with the immigration idiot and the queue kept growing. We handed in our passports and were directed to wait outside.

While this was going on the Medical officer wanted to see our vaccination certificates, which he then used to painstakingly write down each and every vaccination we had been given. We have only had to show these once before, when we entered Nigeria, and it seemed pointless if not completely stupid to now check these so thoroughly, when we were about to leave the DRC.

After about 2 1/2 hours of waiting we went to query what the delay was with our exit stamps, and he then began to process them. This entailed briefly writing down our names, passport numbers, occupations, entry and exit points and stamping the passport. Obviously a very complicated process. He directed us back to Duzi2 where he needed to now check the car and said he would only give us our passports back when we had passed under the DRC barrier into no-mans-land. So finally after 11:00am, we left the DRC, with nearly half a day gone from our valuable 5-day Angolan visa.