Day 10
The border of the Katange province and Kasai is at the Lubilanji river. A big river with a big bridge. We dare not take pictures here as "border" zones are considered of military importance and it is an excellent reason to get arrested.
Surprisingly there is no checkpoint at the bridge... There is a hut, but it was not manned. Instead they seemed to have moved their checkpoint closer to their base a few kilometers down the road.
It is a torough check. Police, Army, Customs, .. They check it all. Insurance, permit, etc... We manage to bluff us trough the permit issue again. When they run out of excuses to fine us, they just give up and plainly ask us for money. "Just because". We refuse ofcourse. It takes over an hour, we get angry a few times, we flatter them a few times, ... The usual. In the end they are angry but let us go.
We were afraid of Kasai and their people. They have the reputation of being hot tempered people. But until now they seem to be much more relaxed then the people in Katanga.
The border of the Katange province and Kasai is at the Lubilanji river. A big river with a big bridge. We dare not take pictures here as "border" zones are considered of military importance and it is an excellent reason to get arrested.
Surprisingly there is no checkpoint at the bridge... There is a hut, but it was not manned. Instead they seemed to have moved their checkpoint closer to their base a few kilometers down the road.
It is a torough check. Police, Army, Customs, .. They check it all. Insurance, permit, etc... We manage to bluff us trough the permit issue again. When they run out of excuses to fine us, they just give up and plainly ask us for money. "Just because". We refuse ofcourse. It takes over an hour, we get angry a few times, we flatter them a few times, ... The usual. In the end they are angry but let us go.
We were afraid of Kasai and their people. They have the reputation of being hot tempered people. But until now they seem to be much more relaxed then the people in Katanga.
It's a long driving day again and when we finally arrive in Mwene-ditu we are knackered. We try to find a mission to stay in. Mwene-ditu is large city, it has cars and is an important stop on the railroad. It also feels like a very dodgy place.
Some of the streets resamble an extreme 4x4 course. Extreme erosion mixed with open sewers.
We manage to find a catholic missions that wants to take us in. We can park in their compound, but the street in front of their gate is eroded away. There is 3 meter level ground in front the gate and then a 3 meter deep pit. It takes a 1000turn manouvre to get us in. The roads simply aren't made for cars here. (They used to..)
We have a few hours of daylight left and we get to check the car. The protective plate underneath the gearbox is badly dent and hanging half loose. A few extra dents and lots of scratches. Could be worse I guess. We also noted that we are starting to get low on fuel. With our 270liter onboard we hoped to do at least 1500km, that should have gotten us to Mbuji Mai were we were sure there was Diesel. It is only 120km to Mbuji Mayi from here, but with what we have it might be a close shave. Our consumption was in excess of 20l/100km.
We do not want to risk it, so we try to buy some diesel here. We saw there was a big depot at the railroad. We ask for advice with the local father. He warns us that if we were to go ourselves, the prices would be at least double because of our white skin. He offers to buy it for us. We are a bit hesitant but we give him 80$US. That should buy us 40 liters of diesel.
The father dissapears for a few hours (!) and returns with two 20 liter jerrycans. He wanted to immediately pour it in our tanks but I wanted to check the diesel first. The smell was funny... not very diesel like. It had a red/brown colour and lots of debri. This was not diesel. It might contain a bit of diesel, but it was mixed with something else.
This was a very difficult situation as we suspected the father to try to fool us into buying this stuff and making a buck. But at the same time he was our host. In the end we refused the "diesel" and he gave us back our money. But he did not return the jerrycans. A very strang situation.
We did not feel at ease. Maybe we are starting to get paranoid?
Some of the streets resamble an extreme 4x4 course. Extreme erosion mixed with open sewers.
We manage to find a catholic missions that wants to take us in. We can park in their compound, but the street in front of their gate is eroded away. There is 3 meter level ground in front the gate and then a 3 meter deep pit. It takes a 1000turn manouvre to get us in. The roads simply aren't made for cars here. (They used to..)
We have a few hours of daylight left and we get to check the car. The protective plate underneath the gearbox is badly dent and hanging half loose. A few extra dents and lots of scratches. Could be worse I guess. We also noted that we are starting to get low on fuel. With our 270liter onboard we hoped to do at least 1500km, that should have gotten us to Mbuji Mai were we were sure there was Diesel. It is only 120km to Mbuji Mayi from here, but with what we have it might be a close shave. Our consumption was in excess of 20l/100km.
We do not want to risk it, so we try to buy some diesel here. We saw there was a big depot at the railroad. We ask for advice with the local father. He warns us that if we were to go ourselves, the prices would be at least double because of our white skin. He offers to buy it for us. We are a bit hesitant but we give him 80$US. That should buy us 40 liters of diesel.
The father dissapears for a few hours (!) and returns with two 20 liter jerrycans. He wanted to immediately pour it in our tanks but I wanted to check the diesel first. The smell was funny... not very diesel like. It had a red/brown colour and lots of debri. This was not diesel. It might contain a bit of diesel, but it was mixed with something else.
This was a very difficult situation as we suspected the father to try to fool us into buying this stuff and making a buck. But at the same time he was our host. In the end we refused the "diesel" and he gave us back our money. But he did not return the jerrycans. A very strang situation.
We did not feel at ease. Maybe we are starting to get paranoid?
Progress after Day 10. Mwene-Ditu
