(1) on the way through northern Europe 
(7) South Africa 
with Frank Butler
Some times you just have luck...sometimes you don't.
Coming in to Brazzaville I searched high a low for a Hotel, that I didn't think was a complete rip off. In central Africa they seem to think that if a hotel costs fiftydollars in Europe then there is no reason that it should not cost the same in Africa...just because they don't have running water or twenty four hour power or haven't painted or cleaned the place since they bought it cheap from some expat. leaving in a hurry...that's no reason that it should not cost the same....after all a hotel is a hotel.
So it was a long search in a hot afternoon before I found the Hotel du Jeanne. It's a little way out of town but freshly painted, cheap, and has its own generator. And some genius has put a water storage tank on the roof so even when the mains water goes off the place still has water. The best bit about the hotel was that it had another 'blanc' (white) staying there, the receptionist was very proud of this fact....me turning up had made her day... 'two blancs!'. The other white guy was Robert, the receptionist knocked on his door so that she could introduce us, she was suprisedthat we didn't know each other...us both being white and all.
Robert was from the Czech Republic and was a gold prospector and turned out to be one of the kindest and most generous people that I have ever met. He had a mining concession up north of the country and was in Brazza to sort out some problem with spare parts that he was having with one of his trucks. He looked after me like I was his little brother. I could pay for nothing and he would get anything that I mentioned sorted.
After a couple of days he took me down to the Beach the local name for the port where you leave from to cross the river Congo to Kinshasa. He brought his MrFix-it to sort things out in case of problems. I gave Fix-it my passport and the Carnet for Beem and he came back with all the stamps...good Job. As if that wasn't enough luck while I am waiting at the beach for the ferry to empty I see another white guy. I wave to him and offer him a seat on the pavement next to me in the shade.
His name is Diego and as his name might suggest...he was Spanish, he was working for the UN making maps and was based in Kinshasa. We got taking about life on the other side (Kinshasa, not heaven) and he said hotels were expensive, but not to worry because I could stay at his place as his flat-mate was away on leave...result. Diego was one of Nature's true gentlemen.
Sometimes you have luck...you just have to go out there and find it
Kinshasa is a UN town, every second vehicle is a Toyota 4x4 in gleaming white with huge UN letters on the side, you can't help think who the f--- is paying for all these cars. Apart from the UN presence, Kinshasa has little to recommend it...it is huge but somehow has nothing in it. That sounds strange, but that's what it's like, a big sprawling city of over eight million where you can buy or do practically nothing. It's a place from an alternative dimension.
Having said all that I had a great time there, mostly thanks to Diego, he gave me a room in his flat and we went out whenever he was not at work. We visited the Bonobos, we drove miles over potholed roads to swim in little streams, we went to bars at the side of the road, we ate cheap and had bags of laughs.
Robert, who had just arrived, joined us and we had a high old time, due mostly to the company, not the surroundings. I spent my days at the Angolan Embassy trying to get that elusive Tourist Visa, I got fifteen days which was a result, most people only get five, so with that stamped securely in the passport I headed sound to the border. For love or money I could not get a map for Angola I ended up using a basic printout that Diego got off the internet, and it was barely adaquate, so I was not too sure about the route to follow.
No Petrol
I went to the border area and started asking about the best routes. After two days I went for the Songololo crossing to Mbanza Congo, a rough enough kind of road but all right for bikes as it's mostly big holes and you can ride around them...the problems started when I got to Mbanza...no petrol !!!!
No Petrol ! That's right no bloody Petrol !! "We have essence, but no super or anything resembling it... we have this rough smelling stuff that the little bikes are happy with, but your bike may...may not like it". The guy said that they were expecting Super on Tuesday...this was Friday.
I kept asking around thinking that someone must have a stash of Super somewhere...nothing. After sleeping on it, and fighting with a rat for my tankbag with the bread in it, I decided that the best option wasto put the bike on a truck to the next place with a good supply of petrol. As luck would have it it was just then that I ran into the Pastor.
It was the usual meeting "is this your bike, where have you come from" kind of meeting, but the Pastor was a little different....he didn't ask for anything. I said that I was looking for a cup of coffee, and he knew a restaurant, so off we went to the centre of town to see about coffee and maybe dicover some petrol. We found the coffee but no petrol, but we did get talking to Ary, a White Angolan, who had a mate who had a truck who was going to Luande that very afternoon. Two hours later, Beem was in the back of a massive Scania, and we were on our way to Luande. It took three days to make the four hundred odd kilometres, but we had a great time, and only a few misadventures...Beem fell over in the back of the truck and broke his stand, the luggage rack, and a mirror, all of which was fixed at the depot of the truck. He had a few other little scars which could have been worse...
Leaving Luanda and heading south is easy, the roads are good and the traffic light, but after a few hundred kilometers the road-works start and that is something else. The government is getting all kinds of help from foreign countries, mostly China by the look of things, and a huge road building process is underway...which is great, let's face it they could use it.
The thing that got me was the alternate routes....to keep you off the work in progress they have a bulldozer drop its blade and push a path through the bush and then put up a detour sign and let you get on with it, these rough tracks head off in any direction and criss-cross the road works dozens of times and this is the cruel part, because each time you think that you might be back on a reasonable road, just to be sent off up the bush again on some horrendous single track of mud...it is mental torture.
Having said that the up side is the fact that the country is magnificent, it is truly spectacular. The people are friendly and interested in visitors, and the future I hope is bright for this ravaged land and its people.
I liked Angola but the race against time made it impossible to do anything but ride through...shame.
Namibia
When you cross the border into Namibia, you get the feeling that you have made it, you are almost there ! And as any traveller knows this is the most dangerous time, the time when you let your guard down. I was on the road to Etosha National Park, the sky was clear and blue, the road was excellent and they drive on the left.
I was cruising at about ninety kilometers an hour, from the on coming traffic a car signaled that it was overtaking, I moved over to give him space to pass, but he wasn't overtaking he was turning, turning directly in front of me...he hadn't seen me. I swerved back towards the middle of the road and missed his real bumper by inches. There was no reason for this except that the guy wasn't looking for a bike. You are the bottom of the food chain on a bike, you can never afford to relax...someone else makes a mistake...it's you who pays !
Right after that life lesson, let me tell you about Etosha. It's fantastic. I camped outside the park and went in every day to film the animals, I could have stayed there for months.
Swakopmund is another great place, it is a coastal town and is quite unique with its weather. Most of the year a chilly breeze blows of the Atlantic, but at the same time a desert sun beats down on this town surrounded by desert, so you have a blistering sun radiating above as you walk around with your coat on...quite nice really.
It is also the adventure/extreme sports capital of Southern Africa, it's got the lot, parachuting to sand boarding and all stops in between. I shot a video for the local Quad-bike company Outback Orange and had a ball doing it. I went to Cape Cross and filmed the seals ... Namibia is a great place ... don't miss it.
From Namibia it is only a hop over the Orange River to South Africa ... and Cape Town.
Swakopmund , Namibia/ London