So I ended up flying from Kinshasa to Lubumbashi where I stayed with family of my friend in Kinshasa. The taxi drove through the broken streets of the local neighborhood where I would end up staying three nights. The family had been waiting with impatience and a prayer was made by the oldest daughter upon arrival. They showed me around, I drove the kids on the back of the bike through the narrow streets and I ended up searching parts for the family bicycle to get it back up and running.
Usually in urban neighborhoods, there is electricity and running water, but not in Congo. Primary school, although free of charge by law, is expensive for the families. And so on… The oldest son was doctor and his stories about people dying for the most stupid reasons were just ridiculous. Lack of education was showing in very rough ways. I noticed that after being in Africa for eight months I was getting mentally exhausted. All the time you wonder why things are the way they are if the government is so rich. I help where I can, but I’m not even sure if I would have been able to cross DRC mentally, apart from 2000 km of worst road ever.
They wanted me to stay forever, but after being stuck in Congo Brazza for quite a while, I couldn’t wait to hit the open road to South Africa. With my enthusiasm, I ended up crossing the border into Zambia the same day I left Lubumbashi. My colleagues for the day were men transporting hundreds of kg of charcoal on the bike. People were nice, but still somewhat loud as in Congo Brazzaville with the usual lack of respect from time to time.
What surprised me was how kind and helpful the police and immigration officers were. Just happy to see you, asking many questions out of curiosity. Soon enough, I was on my way to the 16th country of the trip: Zambia.
Welcome to Africa light, easy Africa. I just paid 50 dollars and they gave me the visa. Can you believe that???? This obviously is standard policy here, but after West and Central Africa, still a shock.
First welcome: very heavy rainfall. Rainy season wasn’t over yet. Just before it starts pouring rain, I talk to a guy who doesn’t have any other option really then to let me in when the rain starts. They are workers finishing of the house. I foolishly propose to go out and have a beer. Soon enough I would understand that most Zambians like their local beer and a lot of it. Totally wasted, they just managed to find the way back home where I hang the mosquito net off the bike, far away from their snoring. Welcome to Zambia, they kept telling me…
Anyway, another day, time to get to know a bit of Zambia. I’m cycling through the copperbelt region and every town is marked by big mines. Leaving Chingola, a car pulls up asking what the hell I’m doing cycling in Zambia. People here actually have manners and respect and I find it very enjoyable to talk to them. Julius and his friend are no exception and they end up inviting me to stay with them in Kitwe. Arriving there easily over the dual carriage way, there were many beers, a hot shower and bed waiting for me. Brilliant! What a difference to the lack of comfort I experienced so long.
Next day I get to Kabwe where I meet up with Belgian friends teaching there for three months. How awesome to hang out with friends that I could just trust and not some fake friends like in Brazzaville trying to get my money. I visited their school, but had to continue in order to meet them in Lusaka for the weekend.
With a slight tailwind I was flying towards the capital. I met a Chinese cyclist on the road with whom the speed plummeted, but Lusaka was near. I was looking forward to meet Spanish cyclist Javier Martinez with whom I was in touch already since Mali. He’s actually the one who crossed DRC during dry season and told me off for crossing it in the wet one. Apart from that, he’s just a legend having covered already 52000 km over 4 years time. And there was someone else at the campsite: John, a British biker, whom I had met in Bamako, Mali and Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. I look at him as my traveling dad and it was just absolutely brilliant to catch up over the T-bone barbeque.
With my Belgian friends coming to Lusaka, great times continued. Laying at the pool of the Kalimba crocodile farm drinking a local beer “Mosi” I just had to say “Life’s good!!!” It was Saterday night, so we obviously went out. First to a new shopping mall which I just hated. Everything is just to plastic, fake, artificial. So boring and uninteresting for me, I couldn’t enjoy it. Then we went to a local nightclub….party time! Always a good laugh and great time.
My friends had to go back teaching in Kabwe and I took the road to Victoria Falls.
Usually in urban neighborhoods, there is electricity and running water, but not in Congo. Primary school, although free of charge by law, is expensive for the families. And so on… The oldest son was doctor and his stories about people dying for the most stupid reasons were just ridiculous. Lack of education was showing in very rough ways. I noticed that after being in Africa for eight months I was getting mentally exhausted. All the time you wonder why things are the way they are if the government is so rich. I help where I can, but I’m not even sure if I would have been able to cross DRC mentally, apart from 2000 km of worst road ever.
They wanted me to stay forever, but after being stuck in Congo Brazza for quite a while, I couldn’t wait to hit the open road to South Africa. With my enthusiasm, I ended up crossing the border into Zambia the same day I left Lubumbashi. My colleagues for the day were men transporting hundreds of kg of charcoal on the bike. People were nice, but still somewhat loud as in Congo Brazzaville with the usual lack of respect from time to time.
What surprised me was how kind and helpful the police and immigration officers were. Just happy to see you, asking many questions out of curiosity. Soon enough, I was on my way to the 16th country of the trip: Zambia.
Welcome to Africa light, easy Africa. I just paid 50 dollars and they gave me the visa. Can you believe that???? This obviously is standard policy here, but after West and Central Africa, still a shock.
First welcome: very heavy rainfall. Rainy season wasn’t over yet. Just before it starts pouring rain, I talk to a guy who doesn’t have any other option really then to let me in when the rain starts. They are workers finishing of the house. I foolishly propose to go out and have a beer. Soon enough I would understand that most Zambians like their local beer and a lot of it. Totally wasted, they just managed to find the way back home where I hang the mosquito net off the bike, far away from their snoring. Welcome to Zambia, they kept telling me…
Anyway, another day, time to get to know a bit of Zambia. I’m cycling through the copperbelt region and every town is marked by big mines. Leaving Chingola, a car pulls up asking what the hell I’m doing cycling in Zambia. People here actually have manners and respect and I find it very enjoyable to talk to them. Julius and his friend are no exception and they end up inviting me to stay with them in Kitwe. Arriving there easily over the dual carriage way, there were many beers, a hot shower and bed waiting for me. Brilliant! What a difference to the lack of comfort I experienced so long.
Next day I get to Kabwe where I meet up with Belgian friends teaching there for three months. How awesome to hang out with friends that I could just trust and not some fake friends like in Brazzaville trying to get my money. I visited their school, but had to continue in order to meet them in Lusaka for the weekend.
With a slight tailwind I was flying towards the capital. I met a Chinese cyclist on the road with whom the speed plummeted, but Lusaka was near. I was looking forward to meet Spanish cyclist Javier Martinez with whom I was in touch already since Mali. He’s actually the one who crossed DRC during dry season and told me off for crossing it in the wet one. Apart from that, he’s just a legend having covered already 52000 km over 4 years time. And there was someone else at the campsite: John, a British biker, whom I had met in Bamako, Mali and Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. I look at him as my traveling dad and it was just absolutely brilliant to catch up over the T-bone barbeque.
With my Belgian friends coming to Lusaka, great times continued. Laying at the pool of the Kalimba crocodile farm drinking a local beer “Mosi” I just had to say “Life’s good!!!” It was Saterday night, so we obviously went out. First to a new shopping mall which I just hated. Everything is just to plastic, fake, artificial. So boring and uninteresting for me, I couldn’t enjoy it. Then we went to a local nightclub….party time! Always a good laugh and great time.
My friends had to go back teaching in Kabwe and I took the road to Victoria Falls.