Newsgroups: rec.travel
Subject: Africa Overland - The Serial. Part 9
From: derek@nezsdc.icl.co.nz (Derek Tearne)
Date: Mon, 12 Oct 92 07:15:55 GMT
Followup-To: rec.travel
Organization: Fujitsu New Zealand
Keywords: Africa, travelogue.

Africa Overland - The Serial. Continued...

The story so far. 
In Part one   they drove to the Sahara.
In Part two   they cross the Sahara (virtually) unscathed.
In Part three they learn about poverty and corruption and cross Niger. 
In Part four  they buy a new windscreen, learn a few new driving skills.
In Part five  they encounter 'wild' animals in their first game park.
In Part six   they have some foretastes of conditions to come.
In Part seven they find a friendly haven in Younde.
In Part eight they hang around in Younde for longer than expected,  in the 
	      process meeting some interesting and diverse people.

Another border crossing.  The border posts seemed to be getting seedier as
we progress.  Angela and Terry, whom we met in Younde arrive via 'public
transport'.  There was a lot more fuss and random searching at this border
post.  The 'public health' person 'fined' Angela and Terry for not having 
Meningitis vaccinations.  I should point out that Meningitis is not required 
for entry by any African nation.  We had lost our vaccination certificates 
earlier and only had a piece of paper, signed by our doctor, saying that 
we had both been given the various unimportant shots (we had new re-issued 
Yellow fever and Cholera certs).  As we only had one piece of paper between
two of us we were fined half the amount!

Then we came across a whole series of the African road block<tm>.
These are encountered throughout the whole of Africa from Algeria to South
Africa.  They are always a cause for concern.  In some cases they are merely
a hut with a man inside with an AK47.  More often than not there are several
guys (some with AK47's) and some form of barrier(s).  The barriers may be 
pole across the road, barrels, or planks of wood with wicked looking nails
poking up to puncture your tyres.  

As you approach a road block several things go through your mind.  Are these
people official or not.  Some blocks you don't have to stop for (generally 
agriculture/stock control blocks.  Some you just have to slow down for and 
are waved through and some you _must_ stop for.  If you stop and these are 
bandits you may get shot.  If you drive through slowly enough you may get 
also get shot.  If you should have stopped and don't you may get shot at.  
Lots of fun for all the family.  To make it more confusing some of the guys 
will be waving you through and some indicating that you should stop.  
This is a great source of amusement for these people.  

Fortunately we never actually got shot at,  although we were shouted and 
chased more than once when we read the situation wrong.

Central Africa was particularly bad for these blocks.  Within 10 Km of the 
border we must have crossed 6 or more of these.  At all the ones we had to
stop at they checked all our documents and some searched the truck again.  
We thought we had passed them all when we came to the notorious vehicle 
inspection stop.  These guys had the cleanest looking AK 47's of them all,  
looked like they might just work.

Firstly we weren't wearing our seatbelts.  Look _nobody_ wears seatbelts
in Africa - we had stopped doing so in the middle of the Sahara.  He pointed 
this out to us. Then he started checking the vehicle with a fine tooth come.  
Do the indicators work (flash flash), headlights (flash) windscreen wipers
(swoosh) screen washer! (splash),  what is this light (rear fog light) - make 
it work (flash).  Where is your warning triangle (show triangle), where is 
your second triangle (we had been warned so had two).  Where is your fire 
extinguisher - point to extinguisher, where is your second fire extinguisher 
(point to back of truck).

Eventually after demonstrating all the lights in the vehicle they told us the
amount of the fine for not wearing seatbelts.  We now realised what was going 
on.  This whole thing was to see how much they could fine us for.  
"We can't pay that" we said,  and started bargaining.  We got them down
to our smallest CFA note (they were unlikely to give change).  This was
about a quarter of the original fine.  Then they asked for payment in 
foreign currency.  Now there was a real dilemma.  We had some small 
denomination US dollars - but we hadn't declared them on our currency form.  
If we used those we could get away with a lower fine - but if they realised 
they could take the lot!  

So we paid in French Francs - the same amount we would have paid in CFA.  The
CFA is linked directly to the French Franc so the exchange rate cannot vary.
So they now had to go out of their way to change the money.  A moral victory 
for us but had still paid far too much.  Which went straight into the guys 
pocket. 

They then cheerfully said "Welcome to our country" smiled and shook our hands.

About 20 Km up the road we came to _another_ vehicle inspection check and
went through the whole thing again!  This time however we were wearing our
seatbelts and they could find nothing wrong.  We did end up giving away an
inner tube patch and some coloured pens though.

We later found out that _everyone_ pays something, at the first one at least.
Eric and Brian (see earlier episodes) were on Californian spec motorbikes.
The headlights were permanently on.  This was a malfunction and they had to 
pay a fine.  We heard of one Landrover which was perfect except for the 
interior light which didn't work - instant fine.  Some of these people were 
caught at several subsequent 'inspection stops' and fined again and again.  
I guess we were lucky.  We met some guys who had no working tail lights on 
their vehicle at all.  They had quite a hard time of it but wouldn't tell 
us how much they had been fined (mind you, we didn't tell them how much we 
had been fined either!)

In defence of the guards in charge of this revenue gathering exercise,  they
would not otherwise have been paid.  Government workers had not been paid 
anything for the previous 6 months and tempers were running a little high.
Government workers were at this moment on strike.  We didn't know about this 
yet - but we soon would.

The roads in C.A.R were red dirt but excellently graded and we could make 
very good time.  A dirt road is much more appropriate here than a tar sealed
road.  The locals can maintain such a road (and do so very effectively).
A tar road rapidly becomes potholed and falls into disrepair,  leaving a 
worse surface than the original dirt road.  Speeds in excess of 100 Km/h
(60 Mph) were easily sustainable on these roads,  this would have been 
impossible on a potholed tar seal road.  Of course a tar road is prestigous 
and foreign aid is often available.  The construction company can make
a film of all their good work in Africa,  the governments supplying aid do
the same.  There is no publicity value however in the ongoing maintenance
of the road, or equipment, so no foreign aid money.  Five years later the 
road may be non existent or undrivable.  The same with aid like tractors.  
How can an African afford a new tyre for a tractor, or find spares.  Many 
times did we see this,  broken machinery by the side of the road.  Donated 
by well meaning but thoughtless organisation or corporations and now useless 
for the want of one or two small pieces of equipment.  A dozen more tractors 
are no use.  Spares and a few trained mechanics for the ones which are already 
there are what's needed.  Setting up a tractor company in Africa would be 
better still - a common tractor for which locally made spares are available.  
But that so rarely seems to happen.  The few initiatives which seemed to do 
this were mainly funded by eastern bloc countries so are probably at an end.

Anyway, we spent the night in a road stone quarry on the side of the 
road.  In the morning we awoke to a typical African sight.  All the children
(and some of the adults) from the local village were lined up outside 
our tent staring at us.  They rarely disturb you, just stare at your every 
move.  When you wander off to the great African toilet, they follow you.
Very disconcerting.  The only solution is to stare back.  You have to stare 
at each child individually for a minute or two so this can be a little time 
consuming.

We made good time to Bangui and followed the Shoe string map to the 
Pk 12 campsite.  We drove past several groups of military personnel and 
police with (yes that's right) AK 47's and helmets with visors.  There 
seemed to be rather a lot of them.  Driving through the pk 12 market (the 
rough part of town) we saw more of those funny black rings in the road, and
the natives looked very restless.  Several people were wandering around with 
long pieces of wood.  Someone threw a rock at the truck, fortunately it 
missed.  I just continued driving through this ugly looking crowd.  Then 
we found the campsite.  It was almost deserted.  When we finally met some 
other Europeans we found out that there had been rioting,  centred on the 
pk 12 market, for the last 2 nights.  So far the campsite had been safe but 
no one was sure.

We had been told that Bangui was a 'den of thieves' and it gets a less than
glowing report from 'Shoestring' but this was our worst fears realised.
We had very little local currency until we got to the bank and the banks had
been closed for the last two days.  We needed to get a visa for Zaire here 
before we could go anywhere.  Our visas for Cameroun had expired and were 
single entry so we couldn't turn back.  Trapped.  The other people here 
were in a similar situation.  Cyn, an American, had had some problem with
her C.A.R. visa and her passport had been confiscated.  She was going to the 
American Embassy tomorrow to see if they could sort things out.  If we could
get to the bank and get our Zaire visa's we would leave with these people
tomorrow,  but for tonight at least we were trapped.

The other travellers here were Cyn(American) and Jurgen(German), who were 
travelling on public transport and Ajah(White South African Rastafarian)
and Joyce(Dutch Indian).  We had hoped to find other travellers in Bangui
to form a convoy for Zaire.  Ajah and Joyce had a Mercedes Unimog,  which we
thought would be a good vehicle to travel through Zaire with.  Anyway they 
were leaving tomorrow regardless so such choices were in the lap of the gods.

I spent the afternoon sharpening my machete.  This was largely for the 
benefit of the Locals who used the campsite as a right of way.  Just as night
fell (about 18:00 hrs) we heard that the president had issued a shoot to 
kill order and that all the government workers _must_ return to work 
tomorrow.  I wasn't sure whether that made me feel better or not.  At least 
the banks would be open.

So we settled down for an uncertain nights sleep, Fiona, Myself and the 
machete...




-- 
Derek Tearne. -- derek@nezsdc.icl.co.nz --  Fujitsu/ICL New Zealand -- 
Some of the more aware dinosaurs were worried about the environmental
consequences of an accident with the new Iridium enriched fusion reactor.  
"If it goes off only the cockroaches and mammals will survive..." they said.
Organization: Development and Fund Raising, Carnegie Mellon, Pittsburgh, PA