Dag 8: Ruacana na Lubango

​(English translation below)

Dag 8: Ruacana na Lubango
 
Drie dinge vandag: 'n Gebreekte drukker, diksandpad en donkerry in Afrika.
 
Ons was vroeg op en gepak om douvoordag op die grenspos te wees. Om in Angola in te gaan het gevoel soos om nou werklik die onbekende te betree. Het ons al die regte papiere?
 
Immigrasievorms: Stempel! Paspoorte: Stempel! Sjoe dit gaan vinnig. Nou net die tydelike invoerpermit vir die motorfietse uitdruk. Maar die drukker wil nie werk nie...Sug en wag en neem fotos saam met die motorfietsbewonderaars buite vir twee ure...
 
Uiteindelik is ons deur. Toe lê 80km diksandpad voor ons. Ek het binne die eerste 5km drie keer omgeval, maar met elke omval darem geleer wat ek verkeerd gedoen het, en daarna darem bogebly. Daar is net een manier: Kyk ver voor jou, hou die stuur liggies vas, en gee sous!
 
Omtrent 10km voor die einde van die sand het De Witt omgeval. Ook maar goed! Want toe hy omval, en ek stop, kom daar iemand van agter af aangehardloop met een van my sakke wat toe net afgeval het. Die sak met my paspoort, papiere en geld in nogal!! 'n Bestiering.
 
By Xangango het ons stokflou langs die locals op die sypaadjie neergesak en Coke gedrink. Ons was in 'n nuwe land. Afrika musiek wat mens aan Kuba laat dink. Die winkelman in Portugees waarvan ons niks verstaan nie.
 
Maar die paaie is mooi en die dorpies is skoon, en ons besluit om deur te druk Lubango toe. Ons kon die rugby daar kyk (Springbokke teen Ierland), maar ons moes 'n uur of meer in die donker ry. Fout!! Ligte in die nag is bloot opsioneel en klein motorfietsies met twee of drie mense op skiet verby. En mens ry aan die verkeerde kant van die pad!
 
In elk geval, ná 'n lang dag kon ons genadiglik op twee Suid-Afrikaners se grasperk kamp in Lubango. En rugby kyk.
 
 
Day 8: Ruacana to Lubango
 
Three things today: A broken printer, a thick sandy road and driving in the dark in Africa.
 
We were up early to be at the border post at dawn. Entering Angola felt like truly entering the unknown. Do we have all the right papers?
 
Immigration forms: Stamp! Passports: Stamp! Wow it went fast. Then just to print out the temporary import permit for the motorcycles. But the printer wouldn't work... Sigh. Wait. Take photos with the motorcycle admirers outside for an hour or more...
 
Finally we were through. Then 80km of thick sand. I fell over three times within the first 5km, but with each fall I learned what I did wrong, and thereafter it went smoother. There is only one way: Look far ahead, hold the steering wheel lightly, and open the throttle!
 
About 10km before the end of the sand, De Witt fell over. Also good! Because when he fell over, and I stopped, someone came running from behind with one of my bags, which had just fallen off. The bag with my passport, papers and money in it!! A godsent.
 
At Xangango, we sat next to the locals on the pavement and drank Coke. We were in a new country. African music that sounds like Cuba. The shopkeeper Portuguese. We didn't understand a thing.
 
But the roads were nice and the villages clean, and we decided to press on to Lubango. We could watch the rugby there (Springboks against Ireland), but we had to ride for an hour or more in the dark. Big mistake!! Headlights at night are merely optional and small motorbikes with two or three people on them shot past. And we had to ride on the right (wrong!) side of the road.
 
Anyway, after a long day we were able to camp on two South Africans' lawn in Lubango. And watch rugby.

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