Tuesday 12 June 2012

Thanks to Peggy's kêrels

Thanks Juan, Julius and Stephan for letting us stay for so long, for a safe place to park Precious, for hot showers and a cool bedroom, for internet access so we could keep in touch with everyone and for help finding embassies and figuring out Angolan bureaucracy.  Let's not forget the blue bottle of gin to keep us going.  And to Julius, thank you for all your help with Precious, who is now fighting fit.

But mostly, thanks from Peggy for all the love and attention, the breaking of the rules, the constant treats and soppy kisses.

See you in a year or so.

Fica bem!



Monday 11 June 2012

On our way... really!

At long last, we have our DRC visa and our Angolan visa extension.  So we'll leave Luanda tomorrow morning, recover on the beach at Barra do Dande for a couple of nights and then cross the border at Matadi on Saturday.  Hooray!

Friday 1 June 2012

False Alarm

Just when we thought we had the visas in the bag . . . in came Jay Zee and ruined it all. No visas yet because the DRC guy need to speak to the SA guy who is too busy at the SADC convention. We can only get them on Monday, the very day the Angolan visa will expire and we will still ahve a three day drive to the border. Panic attack! Fortunately, we know a guy who knows another guy who spoke to the guys at the Angolan department who will be expecting us on Monday and will sort out extending our visa. Whew! You see, you just need to know the right guy. So . . . looks like we are in Luanda for another week.

Luanda - Love it or leave it

As we said, this place is a mass of stark contrasts butting heads.
Filthy rich folk living next door to filthy slums - cutting edge modern architecture and tatty concrete blocks, a hangover from the Cubans - sterile new housing estates, palm trees and granite and bustling mud shanty towns filled with livestock and naked kids - swanky million dollar yachts in the new marina, a ripple away from a rusting hulk, aground on a sand bar - a clean beach with a promenade, health and body conscious joggers and a beach filled with litter, fish heads and feaces - posh new 4X4's, barely a year old, scratched and dented from the traffic jam war in gridlock with un-roadworthy taxis belching black fumes - the night skyline, neon signs and twinkling lights, a window dressing disguising the sewage in the disintegrating streets - smiley, happy people living an economic honeymoon and blank dejected faces, eyes holding the pain and suffering of the past.

A typical hairy African city. Certainly not a place for this dog and 2 chicks! Perhaps a trial run for the capitals to come? Kinshasa, here we come!

Snapshot of Luanda

So as a result of us doing visa stuff, we haven't seen terribly much of the city at leisure. However, we have seen lots from the car and have had time to look closely when stuck in traffic. There are many old colonial buildings in various states of (dis)repair. Some are lovely and some are just decayed. The fort is spectacular and is in the process of being renovated, so you can't go in. They must have started with the outside because the paintwork is pristine and it looks magnificent from the Ilha. There is LOADS of construction going on here, with some interesting buildings going up - rather like things in Joburg or even Hong Kong. It's a nice contrast with the old. The roads are in terrible shape and nobody really obeys any traffic rules unless there's a policeman directing traffic. Intersections are chaotic, most robots don't work and everyone just pushes in. Similar to many other African cities, but far worse as many more people have cars. It's a very wealthy city this - you should see the cars people drive... and the dings in them too!

And then there is the usual squalor so close to the nicer residences, which is very 3rd world. The standing water in the roads is disgusting - black and green and stinking. And everyone just walks over and around it. I suppose there's only so much energy you can spend worrying about it.

But we have had a great time here with the warmest hospitality imaginable from the Kromriver gents (Peggy's kêrels) and from Ana and her friends, never mind friendly shouts of "Welcome to Angola" in the traffic.