Dag 25 en 26: Brazzaville na Gamboma

​​(English translation below)
​
Dag 25 en 26: Brazzaville na Gamboma
 
De Witt vlieg Pointe Noire toe om die bande te gaan haal. Ek gebruik die tyd om vraestelle te merk vir 'n kursus wat ek by Tukkies aanbied.
 
By DHL in Pointe Noire verseker hulle hom dat die bande wel daar is, hy moet net bietjie wag. En, o ja, die doeanebelasting is 156 000 Central African Franc. Maar julle het dan gister oor die foon gesê dit gaan 120 000 wees? OK, no problem, you can pay 120 000. Cash it's OK. Hulle weier om 'n strokie te gee en sê De Witt moet net bietjie wag, so 'n uur of twee, terwyl hulle die 'formaliteite afhandel' om die pakkie in die stoor te gaan haal.
 
Vier ure later, toe die DHL kantoor toemaak, wink Patrick vir De Witt om saam met haar te kom. In haar kar te klim. 'n Ent in 'n steeg af te ry. Daar, op die natterige agtertrappies van 'n kroeg, staan 'n man langs die pakkie. Nou ja. Dis Afrika. En ons het die bande!
 
Daai aand lê ons albei en legkaart bou in ons kop soos wat ons verkillende permutasies van bande-vasmaak oorweeg. Ons het nog so 'n 1600km se teerpad voordat die grondpad-bande in Yaounde opgesit gaan word.
 
Die volgende oggend, bande en bagasie gelaai, vertrek ons. Stop eers by die Cameroon ambassade vir 'n plakker in De Witt se paspoort. Dan ry ons Noord. UIteindelik.
 
Dit sukkel in die verkeer met die pakkaas. Die motorfietse is nou erg ongebalanseerd, met omtrent geen gewig op die voorwiel nie. Ons sal moet gewoond raak, of herpak môre, want dit voel nie reg nie. Soos die Engelse sê: Be careful what you wish for!
 
Die dag se ry neem ons verby asemrowende gesigte. Eers oerwoud, en dan op na 'n plato waarvandaan ons na links en regs golwende groen heuwels sien tot waar hulle in die verte aan die wolke raak.
 
Die wolke. Hulle word stelselmatig donkerder. En dit word koeler. Gaan ons stop om ons reenbaadjies aan te trek? Ag nee wat ons gaan vinnig deur die storm wees, dan word ons weer droog in die Afrika-hitte. Slim vang sy baas. Dit réén. Die wind pluk. Sopnat en koud stop ons later onder 'n boom om effens beskut te wees terwyl ons ons reenjasse aantrek, onder ons baadjies, om ten minste die wind van ons lywe te hou en ons liggaamshitte binne te hou. Kort daarna klaar dit op en ons ry verder deur die skildery van 'n landskap tot in Gamboma, waar ons straatkos eet wat ons nie ken nie.
 
Later, voor ons in ons vuilerige herbergie gaan slaap, stamp De Witt sy kop teen 'n té lae sinkdak. Twee vlakkerige snye, darem nie baie bloed nie. Hy beduie wat ek moet doen om hom te dokter.
 
Môre ry ons verder Noord, Afrika in. Ons weet van nou af raak dit rowwer. Ons weet net nie hóé rof nie. Wat ons wel weet is dat ons ons reenbaadjies sal aantrek vóór ons natreen volgende keer.
 
 
Day 25 and 26: Brazzaville to Gamboma
 
De Witt flies to Pointe Noire to pick up the tires. I use the time to grade papers for a course I'm teaching at the University of Pretoria.
 
At DHL in Pointe Noire, they assure him that the tires are indeed there, he just needs to wait a bit. And, oh, the customs duty is 156,000 Central African Francs. But you said over the phone yesterday that it would be 120,000? OK, no problem, you can pay 120,000. Cash please. They refuse to provide a receipt and tell De Witt to wait for a while, about an hour or two, while they "handle the formalities" to retrieve the package from the warehouse.
 
Four hours later, when the DHL office closes, Patrick beckons for De Witt to join her. Get in her car. Drive down an alley. There, on the damp back steps of a pub, stands a man next to the package. Well, this is Africa. And we have the tires!
 
That evening, we both lie in bed, mentally piecing together different permutations of strapping the tires onto our bikes. We still have about 1600km of asphalt road before the off-road tires will be fitted in Yaounde.
 
The next morning, with tires and luggage loaded, we depart. First, we stop at the Cameroonian embassy to get a visa sticker in De Witt's passport. Then we head north. Finally!
 
The bikes struggle with the cargo. They are now severely unbalanced, with almost no weight on the front wheels. We'll have to get used to it or readjust tomorrow because it doesn't feel right. As they say: Be careful what you wish for!
 
The day's ride takes us past breath-taking views. First, through the jungle, and then up to a plateau from which we see rolling green hills to the left and right, stretching into the distance and touching the clouds.
 
The clouds. They gradually get darker. And it gets cooler. Should we stop and put on our rain jackets? Oh, well, we'll quickly pass through the storm, then we'll dry up again in the African heat. Mistake. It rains! The wind picks up. Later, soaking wet and cold, we stop under a tree to find some shelter while we put on our rain jackets, under our motorcycle jackets, to at least keep the wind off our bodies and retain our body heat. It doesn't work, but shortly after, the rain clears up, and we ride through the picturesque landscape to Gamboma, where we eat street food that we've never tried before.
 
Later, before going to sleep in our dirty inn, De Witt hits his head against a too-low zinc roof. Two shallow cuts, fortunately not much blood. He tells me what I should do to doctor him.
 
Tomorrow we will continue north, deeper into Africa. We know it's going to get rougher from here. We just don't know how rough. What we do know is that we'll put on our rain jackets before the next storm.

​https://www.backabuddy.co.za/expedition-h2o-back-to-basics