Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Chapter 17: Zaïre (The Democratic Republic of Congo)
Once we crossed the Zaïre River, I was the first person permitted to leave the ferry.
With the assistance of a few kind strangers, I lifted the bike and transferred it onto the dock.
A plain-clothed officer greeted me at the dockside and I was escorted to the immigration
'office'. I handed them my passport and began to explain the reason for my visit. They
immediately noticed that there wasn't an official exit stamp from the Congo. In all of the
morning's chaos trying to board the ferry, I forgot to get it. I froze not knowing what to say
but amazingly they overlooked it. They stamped my passport, smiled and welcomed me to
Zaïre. The whole process took less than 20 minutes.
I set off to find the Canadian Embassy near the Hotel Intercontinental. When I ar-
rived, I showed the staff the ambassador's welcome letter that I received back in England
earlier that year. I asked if I could meet him and was told that unfortunately, he had been
posted to another country. Undeterred, I took a chance and bluntly asked if they could still
provide me a place to stay. With permission from the new ambassador, I was offered the of-
ficial guest residence: a furnished apartment…without food. Shit. And without hired help.
Double shit. Fidel and Chris took me over to the residence and for my first night, they
cooked Kraft Dinner and gave me a bunch of movies to watch. I left their apartment and
walked down to mine and immediately went to bed planning to watch the movies at another
time.
The next day, I went to get my money changed and found an Avis Car Rental officer
whochangedmyCFAtozaïres.Theratewas6,500zaïresto1CFAandintotal,Iwasgiven
120,000,000 zaïres (yes, it was 120 million). I next went to a small shop to do some grocery
shopping and my bill came to 23,000,000 zaïres (about $12.14 Canadian). I returned to my
apartment to drop off the groceries and walked over to the embassy. I briefly chatted with
the Canadian ambassador and received an open invitation to have lunch with him before I
left the city (I didn't take him up on his offer.)
The next day was New Year's Eve and my first stop was the Canadian Embassy. I
was given a list of names of Canadians en route to the Zambian border who could give me
some assistance when I arrived (This list was a godsend.) Then, one of the staff members
took me to the central post office to retrieve my supply package that I sent from England.
At the post office, I was told that the package was stolen by the unpaid military (a
frequent occurrence). This was not a godsend but a 'satan-send' for the package contained
my spare bike parts, clothing, and supplies of malaria tablets. These were crucially needed
for the remainder of the tour and the theft caused many problems for me later on.
Ireturned to my apartment empty-handed and passed the time watching TV until the
New Year's Eve countdown of 1992 started. It was during a Michael Jackson TV special
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