The Congo - The Lions on the Road: Cycling London to Cape Town - page 189

Chapter 16: The Congo
IwokeupearlythenextmorninginanticipationofcyclingmynextAfricannation.I
first fixed my rear pannier to address the problem of it popping off the rack whenever I hit a
bump. When that was done, I walked into the kitchen and had breakfast with Benoit and the
rector who arrived the night before after I went to bed. The rector suggested that I register
in the last town before I crossed the border for the police on the other side may tell me to
return to do it.
By 8:30 a.m., I left Ndendé on a relatively good road which had a few bumps
scattered throughout. In the 48 kilometre stretch to the border, I passed no vehicles and only
3 villages. It was quiet except for the sounds of the neighboring birds. So using them as ac-
companiment, I started to sing and since Christmas was a week away, carols were on top of
my list. It was weird singing Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer in the middle of a rainforest
but it was great for morale. Since no one was around to hear me sing, I yelled out the lyrics
and interspersed them with laughter.
Ten kilometres from the border, I stopped singing as I approached the gendarmerie
(police station) and registered just as the priest from Ndendé suggested. Iwalked over to the
douane further down the road and called for someone to arrive. After 10 minutes of waiting,
I walked my bike under the barrier and cycled on. (The policeman at the gendarmerie said I
could do that if no one came.)
I cycled along the road not quite sure if I officially arrived in the Congo for there
were no Welcome-to-the-Congo signs anywhere. When I arrived at a bridge that crossed
over a small river, I asked a woman which country I was in. She said that we were still in
Gabon but as soon as I crossed the bridge, I was officially in the Congo. I thanked her and
quicklycrossedthebridgetoarriveinmyeleventhcountrywithoutanyproblemsorfanfare.
Incidentally, she was partially correct. For almost 50 kilometres, the road I was on was the
international border, to my left was the Congo and to my right was Gabon.
The quality of the road was not as good as Gabon's and almost from the very begin-
ning I had to be more conscientious of my safety. My first incident in the Congo began to
unfoldafterIcrestedahill.IstoppedtotakeintheviewwhenInoticedaratherlargepuddle
sittingattheverybottomoftheroadbeforethenexthill.Islowlydescendedandapproached
the water's edge with trepidation noticing several submerged rocks. I mentally planned my
route through the water and began to cycle. Dumb idea. As I arrived near the centre of the
puddle, my front wheel jammed between two oddly-shaped rocks. Losing my balance, I fell
on my left side and was completely drenched along with my panniers. My handlebar bag
which was partially opened quickly filled with water causing my book, “The Little Engine
ThatCould”tobesoaked.ItwasonlyafterIstoodupinthepuddletopickupmybikethatI
realized I had an audience. Dozens of school children pointed at me and burst out laughing.