Day 19
Our car was packed and ready to go... we were waiting for a phone call from Barthélémy. When it finally arrived around noon, Abbé Omer told us he had notified the police that we would be leaving from the port today. We have no idea why he did that, as he knew how much trouble we've had with the police thus far.
Anyway, on his little motorbike he guided us towards the port. Not surprisingly we were stopped by the police who were waiting for us. As our boat was waiting for us, we were not in the mood for a lengthy negotiation. So as soon as they had checked all our papers (our self issued 'permit' was still doing wonders) we played bluff and immediately asked for their names and ranks and claimed we knew their superior officer. This was a risky move and probably a stupid risk to take at the time, but it worked. Somehow we sensed by now how confident the police was and we could play the game along quite well.
We couldn't believe our eyes when we finally saw the ferry.
It looked brand new!
It wasn't..
A German (?) NGO had funded the restoration of the ferry recently. It had received a nice fresh coat of paint, but the money to rebuild the engines had gone missing.
Our car was packed and ready to go... we were waiting for a phone call from Barthélémy. When it finally arrived around noon, Abbé Omer told us he had notified the police that we would be leaving from the port today. We have no idea why he did that, as he knew how much trouble we've had with the police thus far.
Anyway, on his little motorbike he guided us towards the port. Not surprisingly we were stopped by the police who were waiting for us. As our boat was waiting for us, we were not in the mood for a lengthy negotiation. So as soon as they had checked all our papers (our self issued 'permit' was still doing wonders) we played bluff and immediately asked for their names and ranks and claimed we knew their superior officer. This was a risky move and probably a stupid risk to take at the time, but it worked. Somehow we sensed by now how confident the police was and we could play the game along quite well.
We couldn't believe our eyes when we finally saw the ferry.
It looked brand new!
It wasn't..
A German (?) NGO had funded the restoration of the ferry recently. It had received a nice fresh coat of paint, but the money to rebuild the engines had gone missing.
The departure in the port of Ilebo was hectic (dodgy place!) so we could not really say goodbye to Abbé Omer. He waved us goodbye from the shore. I did not get along well with Omer. I cannot explain why. But in retrospect he did help us and my lack of trust in him was probably a mistake. Shame..
Abbé Omer on the right.
The trip across would take an hour as it was upstream. We felt very much at ease during that hour. We were disconnected from the shore, on a safe distance from everybody that wanted money from us, we did not have to drive. We just had to sit back and enjoy the ride. It was also one of the rare occasions were we got out of the dense forest and could have a look around.
The port of Ilebo
A floating fishing village on the shores of the Kasai:
Abbé Omer on the right.
The trip across would take an hour as it was upstream. We felt very much at ease during that hour. We were disconnected from the shore, on a safe distance from everybody that wanted money from us, we did not have to drive. We just had to sit back and enjoy the ride. It was also one of the rare occasions were we got out of the dense forest and could have a look around.
The port of Ilebo
A floating fishing village on the shores of the Kasai:
The boat crew:
Barthélémy
The captain
Once out of the port these two guys would use long sticks to feel how the deep the river was.
The mechanics
This dugout canoe hitched a ride with us. For a moment I thought of charging them a fee... according to local Congolese tradition. I didn't ;-)
The beautiful, mighty, muddy Kasai river
-
In Ilebo we had asked for the road conditions on the other side of the river. Nobody knew. People here travel by boat, not by road. We were silently hoping that the roads would be perfect on the other side. We couldn't have been more wrong...
Barthélémy gave us a letter for his friend, the captain of the next ferry. It was written in Lingala, but we could make out a few words. The letter was about us but we did not know what it said. Would it be some good words for us? Or would it be some tips on how to extort the maximum amount of money out of us? We did not ask about the condition of the next ferry... It was probably better that we didn't know at the time..
Barthélémy
The captain
Once out of the port these two guys would use long sticks to feel how the deep the river was.
The mechanics
This dugout canoe hitched a ride with us. For a moment I thought of charging them a fee... according to local Congolese tradition. I didn't ;-)
The beautiful, mighty, muddy Kasai river
-
In Ilebo we had asked for the road conditions on the other side of the river. Nobody knew. People here travel by boat, not by road. We were silently hoping that the roads would be perfect on the other side. We couldn't have been more wrong...
Barthélémy gave us a letter for his friend, the captain of the next ferry. It was written in Lingala, but we could make out a few words. The letter was about us but we did not know what it said. Would it be some good words for us? Or would it be some tips on how to extort the maximum amount of money out of us? We did not ask about the condition of the next ferry... It was probably better that we didn't know at the time..
The 'jetty' on the opposite side of the Kasai river used to have a nice concrete ramp, but it had long disintegrated. To get of the boat we were litterally dropped on the muddy shore. Scary!
There was a little village here, and our hopes for better roads vanished as soon we left the village.
The road was no more then a tight single track. It is barely possible to pass trough here with a bicycle. After having verified that this is indeed the only track leading out of here we had no choice but to drive trough it. Half of the car was cuting trough the bushes. The amount of spiders and other critters that we took along for a ride was staggering. It was impossible to keep the windows open because of the debri that was coming in. It was also impossible to keep the windows closed because it was so hot.
This went on for kilometers on end. Spiders were atually building a web on the inside of our windscreen.
And then we tipped over again.
There was a little village here, and our hopes for better roads vanished as soon we left the village.
The road was no more then a tight single track. It is barely possible to pass trough here with a bicycle. After having verified that this is indeed the only track leading out of here we had no choice but to drive trough it. Half of the car was cuting trough the bushes. The amount of spiders and other critters that we took along for a ride was staggering. It was impossible to keep the windows open because of the debri that was coming in. It was also impossible to keep the windows closed because it was so hot.
This went on for kilometers on end. Spiders were atually building a web on the inside of our windscreen.
And then we tipped over again.
This went on for kilometers on end. Spiders were atually building a web on the inside of our windscreen.
And then we tipped over again.
How many situations can one foresee? You could apply the same logic to almost anything. What about medical supplies? We carried quite an extensive kit, but if Josephine got bitten by that snake, what do we do? What about spare parts? What if the gearbox dies? (it did actually, in South Africa). In both case: seek help locally is the answer.
What if your house collapses when you are sitting at your desk? ;-)
That does not mean one should be reckless. And I dare say we are actually pretty prudent. It might not tell from this report, but we avoid unnecessary risks if at all possible. But that risk assessment is a personal thing ofcourse.
Oh, and we do carry a hi-lift, we have used it extensively for our recoveries in Congo (sorry for not making that clear :-) ). The hi-lift combined with the sand ladders and a bit of digging always did the trick. An additional bottle jack can do magic things too. We are also familiar with using a hi-lift as a pulling device. But that is such a horrible thing to do that we avoid it if at all possible.
Oh, and we did crash trough a bridge once. We got out of that one with our hi-lift, sand ladders and a lot of patience and creativity.
And then there is the danger of the human mind. We do not have a winch, so we drive with caution, making sure that werever we get ourselves stuck in, we can get out again.
If I'd have a winch, I know I'd be much quicker in just risking it, knowing that I can winch myself out if it doesn't work. And then the winch stops working...
The fewer of these tools you have, the more you are obliged to think about your next step. And that is not a bad thing! ;-)
That said, a winch is on my shopping list, but it is not a priority.
What if your house collapses when you are sitting at your desk? ;-)
That does not mean one should be reckless. And I dare say we are actually pretty prudent. It might not tell from this report, but we avoid unnecessary risks if at all possible. But that risk assessment is a personal thing ofcourse.
Oh, and we do carry a hi-lift, we have used it extensively for our recoveries in Congo (sorry for not making that clear :-) ). The hi-lift combined with the sand ladders and a bit of digging always did the trick. An additional bottle jack can do magic things too. We are also familiar with using a hi-lift as a pulling device. But that is such a horrible thing to do that we avoid it if at all possible.
Oh, and we did crash trough a bridge once. We got out of that one with our hi-lift, sand ladders and a lot of patience and creativity.
And then there is the danger of the human mind. We do not have a winch, so we drive with caution, making sure that werever we get ourselves stuck in, we can get out again.
If I'd have a winch, I know I'd be much quicker in just risking it, knowing that I can winch myself out if it doesn't work. And then the winch stops working...
The fewer of these tools you have, the more you are obliged to think about your next step. And that is not a bad thing! ;-)
That said, a winch is on my shopping list, but it is not a priority.
he single track trough the forest went on forever. We had 'lost' a lot of time by taking the ferry and before we knew it got dark. We were still driving with one wheel on the track and the other in the forest. The darkness made it quite spooky. In the eroded bits the darkness made it very difficult to manouver our way trough. The mosquitoes were feasting on our blood.
We passed a few villages in the forest, but they looked very primitive and wild. Not the most welcoming environment. We decided to push on until the village of Basongo, which looked big on our map.
It wasn't.
There was no mission here, they also did not have a priest, or a father, or .. . But they did have a "Maison de passage". A little hut where people who'd pass trough could sleep. We could camp next to this house.
The crowd was huge and the kids went completely berzerk as soon as we stopped in the village. When driving to the maison de passage a dozen or so kids (and a few adults) jumped on our wheelcarrier at the back. Josephine had to walk behind the car to keep them off.
This would be a zero-privacy night again. It didn't matter much as it was half past 10 already and we just wanted to sleep.
With the crowd around, it seemed as if going for a pee before going to bed was the biggest challenge of the day.
We passed a few villages in the forest, but they looked very primitive and wild. Not the most welcoming environment. We decided to push on until the village of Basongo, which looked big on our map.
It wasn't.
There was no mission here, they also did not have a priest, or a father, or .. . But they did have a "Maison de passage". A little hut where people who'd pass trough could sleep. We could camp next to this house.
The crowd was huge and the kids went completely berzerk as soon as we stopped in the village. When driving to the maison de passage a dozen or so kids (and a few adults) jumped on our wheelcarrier at the back. Josephine had to walk behind the car to keep them off.
This would be a zero-privacy night again. It didn't matter much as it was half past 10 already and we just wanted to sleep.
With the crowd around, it seemed as if going for a pee before going to bed was the biggest challenge of the day.
Progress on day 19. Basongo
