Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
For the past week, I was told by many people that the road to Kananga was along
the train tracks. I couldn't help but imagine them literally beside each other. However, the
only times I saw the train tracks were when they crossed the road. For most of the journey,
they were rarely visible because of the dense foliage between us.
Leaving Ilebo, the road quality was inconsistent ranging from well-groomed sec-
tionstonear-impossible-to-cyclesections(letalonedrive!)Ikeptremindingmyselfthatthe
day was Sunday and there was no need to push myself. I had a goal to arrive in Domiongo
which was 97 kilometres away but that was not set in stone. I kept my previous promise
to monitor myself if I was losing patience. When I did get agitated, I stopped and rested.
Throughout the day, I passed over the railway tracks about 7 times even though my Mich-
elin map showed 4 crossings. I continued past a train station and heard a train whistle for
the first time in Africa. Unfortunately I couldn't see the train for the station was tucked be-
hind the trees.
As I came around a bend, a group of children were walking in the middle of the
road.WhentheyrealizedIwasapproaching,theyfroze.Asplit-secondlater,theyallbolted
into the rainforest except for one 9 year-old girl who was struggling to get the two toddlers
to run with her. She huddled the toddlers by her legs and froze in fear as I went by, her
eyes glued to me. I looked into her eyes and screamed, “AAAGGGHHH!!!” Actually, I
said, “Boti, boti (good morning). Sshhhh, ça fait rien. No problem.” When I gained some
distance between us, she began to laugh. The other children came onto the road next to her
and waved good-bye. By their response, I thought that they either had never seen a white
person before or man, was I ugly.
I continued on for a few more kilometres and came up to a village called Bishanga.
Thevillagechildrenfollowedmeforsomedistanceoutofthevillagebeforetheygotbored
and returned home. Keep in mind, my pace was extremely slow for I was hypersensitive to
the poor quality of my tires.
Theroadsoonwascoveredinsandwhichforcedmetodismountandbegintowalk.
AsIwaspushingthebike,Imettwolocalteacherswhoinvitedmetostaywiththem.They
were brothers and invited me to stay in one of their huts. I took a cool bucket bath in near
darkness and then ate with the teachers. To the amusement of the children who came to
visit, I did a Don-Johnson-tap-dance-shuffle (in memory of my music teacher at Humber
College in Toronto.) I eventually went back to my hut to sleep. I quickly checked my map
and calculated that I managed 60 kilometres which was two-thirds the way to Domiongo.
Well, I was ready at the crack of dawn to leave but since I promised the brothers
thatIwouldwaitforthemtosaygood-bye,Istayeduntil8:30a.m.Whentheyawoke,they
killed a chicken and cooked it for me. It was a most welcome change from rice and sweet
tea.
After thanking them for their kindness, I pushed off. The air was quite cool for it
had been raining all through the night and into the early morning. The first kilometre con-
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