Overland adventure travel

The beginning of this week found us awakening very early with a truck brekkie from of our impromtu bush/manioc field camp coated in mud. Thankfully the roads improved and we started to make good time . We were however turned back at a police post with the news that our intended route into Pointe Noire had a washed out bridge that couldn't be used. So we reverse our route for about 30km (we never like taking the same route already travelled - unless there is no other choice), and headed south west via another logging road. We finally saw some forest which was much lacking so far in the Congo. The place looks like the grassy hills of Wales sans sheep. A couple of hundred years might see new forests back again but it will never be the same. The dozens of logging trucks that we have seen (all crazy drivers with lead foots on the accelerator - even on these windy, slippery, muddy potholed roads) all carry at least 5 to 10 of the biggest and tallest tree trunks you would ever have seen up close. You can't help wondering how old these beauties were and the possibility that we were totally cutting off the actual hand that feeds our existence here - well not us, but the logging industry which is so evident out here in these parts. I suppose - money speaks louder than words - unfortunately.

The road was a logging track built purposefully by and for the logging trucks, quite steep in places - but on the whole was well maintained. It started to rain in late afternoon and then never quite stopped. The stink of ozone signalled lightning and then we were pulled up by a very recently fallen tree which has been felled by a bolt. Luke jumps out and see's to it with his usual chain saw flair, dissecting the blockage in the pouring rain in a matter of minutes. Another truck driver who was blocked by the tree indicated that it might be better to wait for the rain to stop as the roads are turning into a skating rink - and there's a big hill coming up. Heeding his advice -we pull up in a lay-by on top of a hill a short distance later and wait to see if the rain would ease at all - but it doesn't. Jeff finds a handy mud and gravel ledge complete with water features and this becomes our camp for the night . Yet another on road bush camp which I think might be a dominant feature of this section of the trip, as bush camps seem to be few and far between.

The rain continued to pour down through the night - but we are able to harvest the water running off the cook tarp to fill our jerry cans,which solves our low water problem. Unfortunately due to the cooking fire smoking under the tarp, it was a bit smokey flavoured - which most of us persevered to drink for the next couple of days, while others delved into their emergency water stocks hidden deep in their lockers.

Awakening from our impromptu bush camp to fine sunny weather,we had to stop about 2 km later as the truck was making a good impression of being on ice due to the slippery mud layer. While we waited for the sun to shine and dry things out - we trimmed down the local scrub in order to create some better traction for the truck, enabling it to steer its way out of the ditch and mud ledge that it had started to slide into. We had a Malaysian logging truck driver stop behind us who also was waiting for better conditions. We got a good insight into being a logging worker and the dangers of roads out here - especially with the crazy local drivers. The sun finally helped our cause and we wend our way to Pointe Noire - which to our delight wasn't as far as we thought. Huge trenches of mud and sludgy road from the heavy traffic is what greeted us at the bottom of the mountain pass - but we seemed to trundle through with slightly extra ease than usual - leaving the last 50 km into town on good tar seal. On arrival into Pointe Noire we install ourselves at the Yacht club.

Jeff left bright and early the next morning for the Angolan Consulate, who surprise, surprise could not help despite having a letter of invitation from an Angolan company. So things were starting to look a bit desperate on the whole Angola visa front. And it definitely doesn't help when the gateman will not even let you enter the bloody building to speak to an official - "No Visa - No Tourist Visa" was the favourite saying of the day . The only advise offered was that we could ship the truck to the Angolan capital Luanda and then fly there to re-join the truck - this was the only way we could secure a visa here (but this would mean proving we had flight tickets) and at the same time ending our so far un-interrupted overland adventure - no chance - not in hell !!!. This option wasn't going to cut the mustard and was not given a second thought at all .In the meantime Brendan secured a new leaf spring to the truck,which may help out John who seems to get airborne at his end of the truck whenever we hit a large bump.

Pointe Noire is an oil soaked town with restaurants and patisseries that we did not expect whilst in The Congo - let alone the option or facility to be ordering such things as Lobster lasagne and gorging on culinary delicacies that no overlander would ever expect to be able to find, indulge in or afford in such a city and country of contrasts. It also boasts a Japanese restaurant which we all visited with excitement. Han - our forever social Korean scored us an invite to dinner upon meeting up with the ever friendly Korean owner (Mr Kim). All in all - this meant that Hans cook group did not need to bother with another tin food meal, meanwhile escalating his popularity with the rest of us, and giving his cook group the honourable title of "the cook group to end all cook groups" .We dined on sushi, sweet and sour pork, spicy beef and free drinks - their was no stopping the chef (Mr Kim's wife) who proclaimed that she did not have time to prepare much, and that it was just a snack !!!! Hence the reason why the food just kept coming out and only stopped when we proclaimed that we were about to spontaneously combust due to over loading - and this was at 1am. Mr Kim rolled out the Karaoke machine and we sang like mutant song birds into the early hours. Some were better than others but it was all in the name of fun.

Our vain attempt to depart P.Noire in the quest to obtain a transit visa at the Cabinda border (Cabinda being an enclave of Angola in between ROC, DRC and Angola proper) was our main mission. However after being exited out of Rep. Congo - the Cabinda / Angola immigration chief would not issue us with transit visas even though we would it would only take us a matter of hours to transit through the country. Leaving no other choice - we arranged to get our Congo exit stamp cancelled (luckily) and roll miserably back into Pointe Noire. Our only hope of success was to wait for word from our mates at Af Trails -(companion overlanders on this section of our westerly route) who we hoped would get a positive result on their visa hunt through the consulate in Brazzaville - the capital of ROC. It would still take us at least a week to secure this news - meaning that it's was the start of another long and drawn out waiting game that is so common place out here. With the hold-up of info regarding visas and future travel plans - B and Warren decided that the fat lady has sung and booked flights back to London. So now the truck count was down to 18. Meanwhile we had made two mates in the form of a Swiss Landrover couple (Tamara and Simon) - who for some reason liked the company of a dishevelled and unkept mob of overlanders and a big yellow banana. New blood always makes for interesting times for a social and somewhat stale group atmosphere.