Angola (Cabinda)

In Angola the signs were in Portuguese, luckily Jen has a Portuguese phrase book although the pronunciation looks pretty tricky with lots of uhhhh sounds. We have only mastered good day at this stage.  We were in the Immigration office for 3 hours which gave Elza time to buy another pair of shoes!  The system, if you can call it that, involved 2 guys filling out a complicated form which asked us what political party we supported and our parents names; do not worry parents as they did not ask for our home address which makes us wonder how useful this information will be if anything happens to us.  We were then told that an immigration official would have to accompany us to Cabinda to the immigration office there. Not many tourists come through here so when 9 arrive, it is a pretty big thing.  We were not happy about taking the man as it was late in the afternoon and we could not bush camp if we did not think we would make it before dark; unfortunately he had our passports sealed in an envelope for the chief so we had no choice. 

The first 30km is rough going and slow with an average speed less than 20mph, after that it was tarmac. The people here did not look so friendly, lots of AK47s slung casually on backs and curious looks. It took us about 3 hours to get to Cabinda which is a rundown place with long queues outside the filling stations, which is odd as oil is big business here. Possibly everything gets exported and the people do not see the benefits of what is being drilled.  The immigration man was not very good at negotiating the one way system in Cabinda but after a few illegal turns we made it to the police station, which we could not decide was being built or pulled down.  A helpful guy went to look for the chief (for the sake of what happens next we call him Chief 1) but could not find him so after checking the papers he told us to come back the next day with photocopies of the visa.

By this time it was dark and we had nowhere to stay; we were tired and fed up.  The only Hotel in town was $100 a night would not let us camp in their car park so we tried our luck at the Catholic Mission.  We soon established that the Padre was not there but to stay we had to get a letter from Customs saying we were allowed to sleep there! It seems no one wants to commit themselves to anything without first consulting their superior.  So, the boys went back to the police station to find that Chief 1 had arrived in an inebriated state, having had his evening disrupted by us tourists.  He slurred that no letter was required and he would come to the mission to tell them we could stay.  Back at the church there was no one around for Chief 1 to talk to but he now wanted to show our documents to his chief, number 2.  The boys refused a lift in his car and followed Chief 1 and the passports across town to a restaurant where Chief 2 and his friend were having dinner with their families! Chief 2 was not impressed with the interruption by Chief 1 and started shouting in Portuguese and glaring at Slade. He exclaimed that Slade could not even speak their language at which point the friend told him to calm down. Outraged 2 picked up the table and flung it at the friend who picked up his side and flung it back whilst family members scattered! Slade and Graham sidled out of the room with 1 who was now blaming the boys for getting him into trouble. Seeing his chance Graham grabbed the envelope with the passports and after more shouting 1 drove off!

Back at the Mission the consensus was to stay and return the documents to the station at 8am as we had agreed and then get out of Cabinda!  We camped after finding someone that spoke some English, Graham having insulted one of the mission members for asking him if he spoke French before saying hello! Exhausted we fell asleep to the sound of dogs barking.

By 8am we had dropped off the documents and were trying to exit Cabinda before the Chiefs arrived. As we drove off we were stopped as the immigration man for the DRC border wanted to come with us.  Slade spotted one of the Chiefs who luckily completely ignored us; maybe he was embarrassed by his behavior!  We got stamped out of Cabinda less than 24 hours after having arrived!

Angola Cabinda Summary

Border Control

Entry at Nzassi:  3 hours

Exit: No problem, more efficient than entry

Piste Information

Nzassi, Cabinda: The first 30km is rough going and slow with an average speed less than 20mph, after then it was tarmac. 3 hours.

Cabinda, Exit Border: 36km tarmac

Accommodation

Catholic Mission Cabinda, might need letter from customs to stay there

S 5.33.758 E 12.10.694