Its about time I explained the plan, I can tell you now that it didn’t work which is why i’m having to write this from Kenya. A while back I decided I would either have to finish this trip in Kenya or South Africa where I can make the most of cheap air fares back to England. The cash is almost finished so I certainly wont be able to do both, I decided on Kenya as i’ve already been to South Africa.
The plan was to cross the Small Congo to Brazzaville and then cross over the river to Kinshasa in the Big Congo, from there find a boat to a place called Ilebo, and from Ilebo a train all the way to Lumbumbashi on the Zambian border. After that Kenya is only a simple train ride away.
Now before the Spangly Land Cruiser possie chip their ten cents in, and tell me I should of gone through Angola, yes I could of followed everyone else but decided not too, we all know youve driven to Cape Town five times with yours eyes blind folded, but ask me do I care, ‘do you care?’ No.
So it went pretty much like this.
I asked around in Franceville for transport into the Congo, I eventually found a group of super friendly and helpful Nigerians. They made a few phone calls and found me a pick up truck that was heading that way laden with goods for the markets in the Congo. The pick up was a remarkably knackered white Toyota, machine gun mount optional in this part of the world, in fact I think they had some how got hold of the one that Jeremy Clarkson had blown up on Top Gear.
We left Franceville at around mid afternoon, I was pretty quiet and wasn’t too sure if this was the best idea. Its a bit difficult to trust some guys you’ve only just met when they are driving you into the middle of nowhere. We eventually reached the last Gabonese town with electricity, which also meant the last town with cold beer, so a compulsory stop.
After a few drinks everyone lightened up a bit and we got to know each other, It reminded me of an Aussie friend of mine who once said ‘My mum told me not to trust anyone who doesn’t drink’, never a truer word spoken. After quite a few beers we headed off through some lovely hills into the sunset and the Congolese border, the truck had a real party atmosphere. I certainly dont condone drink driving but the road was a complete mud bath after the rains and only a complete muppet could of managed to crash, and if they did it would only be at about 30kmh.
We arrived at the final border village at about 9pm, the border chief was busy feeding his baby so wasn’t to happy for the interruption, but he lightened up after the baby was petrified of me, much to everyones amusement. He asked for a small payment for passage, included in the price was a dinner of manioc and fish, with a tipple of ‘Old’ (whisky) to wash it down. We ate around the camp fire to the sound of drums from the village, and an amazing starry sky.
Eventually we drove off into the now pitch black night, after a good half hour we came across the first Congolese village which was fast asleep. As is normal in Africa the driver hand on the horn felt the need to wake everyone up on the way through. We broke down a couple of times on the difficult route, a universal joint went and so did the electrics, but each time we got it back going again.
Eventually we arrived in our destination village at about 2am, and I was pretty shattered, but had had a really enjoyable day. We slept in a simple straw cabin and I went out like a light.
