Red Red Wine.

We crossed the border from Namibia heading for Cape Town one sunny afternoon and wild camped on a farm up in the mountains and miles from anyone, apart from, that is, the farmer, who saw our windscreen reflect in the sun and came to investigate. He was cool and said we could stay. The ensuing conversation revealed he had several thousand acres and this type of land sold for around £50.00 an acre in northern South Africa (SA)!

So we had made it to the most southerly country in Africa. South Africa, the land of Sun and wine and …. more wine really.

Anyway, what a change from what we had experienced. Tarmac roads, big smiles and beautiful food and wine, did I mention the wine?

Within a few days, we hit Cape Town and loved it.

The wine farms were everywhere and we were in heaven.

The Vinyards or Wine farms as the South Africans call them are stunning.

We didn't rest on our laurels though, we got stuck into a few maintenance jobs for the truck that kept us stationary for several weeks, but we had wine……. The vineyards are divine and ambling around, lunching and quaffing became the new norm as the truck maintenance rumbled on, and we made new friends, of Black, white and coloured ethnic groups. And yes, that is politically correct, in SA to say those words?

One place we laid our heads in Cape town was a municipal campsite near the city centre. Not a pretty place but super easy to get into town. There were many long-termers on the site in caravans and tents that had seen better days but we were learning many white SA people had been displaced over the years and this type of living was the norm for many whites now.

A young kid around 9/10 years old, the son of a family staying on the site took a shine to our truck and befriended us straight away and after a while, he asked if we were to stay on the site permanently. I said no, and asked if his family lived there permanently. His response was, “We have been, but we leave on Monday at 10.00”. I asked why 10.00 and his response, “we are being evicted and we don't have anywhere else to go”?

A grim reality check on life for some.

So, digging a little deeper into SA and the economic situation, there appear to be 3 main groups in Cape Town at least.

Whites live mainly in the better property. Guarded and gated.

Coloured and Black people live in brick-built, but sub-standard housing in the suburbs.

The ‘other’ Blacks living in the tin shack Townships

The first two groups are what they are, but the third group, the ‘other’ Blacks are mainly migrants from Bostwana, Malawi, Zimbabwe etc who had come to SA in search of work. They are illegal, but, these countries supported SA during Aparthite and so the SA government turns a blind eye to them being there and they survive by working and I mean working. Doing the jobs no one else wants to do, or simply won't do.

They turn up early and leave late. They are in demand and they are cheap?

Another slant on the current situation is, If you are white, middle-aged and unskilled or semi-skilled, forget trying to get employment. The government set targets for companies to employ black people ahead of whites.

To understand that statement you also must understand blacks outnumber whites 8 to 1 so this policy probably has cudos?

And now a little light relief from a thorny subject.

The Penguins of Boulders Bay - So cute!

In a similar vein, I heard of a Black girl with a top-class degree, who recently graduated from University and could not get an interview in her chosen field in desperation, she changed her name on her C.V. to a white SA male name and had numerous interview offers? She went to one interview and explained to the potential employer her reasons for her actions and Bingo! She had a job.

Charlotte and Amos. Amos was the guide that showed us around the Townships of the town of Cradock In the Eastern Cape.

An example of a justice post erected in a garden. This is the place the family go to discuss and resolve their issues.

Another oddity I found out was

, that some Cape Town women (Balck and coloured), still remove their 4 front top teeth. This is thought to be a fashion statement or, a move to enhance sexual enjoyment for their partner? It has even been outlawed for dentists to make these extractions and so it is now performed at home!

We also learnt in the Black culture, Tradition is everything, young men are still taken at puberty and the father selects a male in the community to circumcise the boys. They are taken out of their home, put in the forest and circumcised.No anaesthetic, no cleaning of the blade.

The next day the father visits his son to ensure he is okay, and then he is left for a month and comes home a Man. We saw similar in Senegal, but that was even more brutal.

Funerals amongst the black community are paramount and the show of a good burial is a real status enhancer. To this end, families borrow money to perform the best send-off they can and this leads to difficulties later down the line.

In many Black people's gardens, there still stands a pole sporting a cattle’s skull where the family or friends can stand to sort their differences. Tradition is everything in these communities.

Diffrent communaties, different values.Different traditions.

A typical Township house but this one with a beautiful garden.

Christianity is very well supported throughout South Africa with many significant churches.

Whilst waiting for our jobs to be completed on the truck, we learnt a little more about the Afrikans language is spoken by around 13.5% of the population and is somewhat based on the Dutch Language and it was time to learn a few snippets

Elke huis het sy kruis

English translation - Every house has its cross

Thinking about history, it's a profound statement.

Lyk ny boem groot hierin

English translation - Does my bum look big in this?

Well, you never know?

Some super cute places to browse in this melting pot of a country.

We learnt about Load shedding. The process of the power from the grid being turned off for 2 or 3 hours every day to save power. This was causing untold damage to businesses and households alike. Think of being in a city centre and someone turns off the traffic lights? Think about Hospitals, schools and shops and Load shedding has been going on for years.

We learned security is a major worry among SA people and we are honestly not sure if this is warranted or not? We have felt safe so far in the main.

We learnt how to Braai (BBQ on burning or smouldering wood). You simply aren't a white SA unless you Braai many times a week!

We also learnt some facts about the ANC (African national congress), the incumbent political party in SA. The party of Nelson Mandella, still in power and the common view amongst whites (as we spoke to), a party doing little for any ethnic group?

A Donkey boiler on a rural campsite. You light the fire under the boiler and that heats the water for your shower. It was a quick dip though as the shower block certainly wasn't heated!

2 cuties we met and who were more than happy to share our BBQ ....... or was it a Braai?

We met this handsome guy on a beach of all places and he was happy to pose for this photograph.

Just Chillin is all.

On a similar theme, we went to Robyn island, the place Nelson Mandella was jailed.

You are taken on a tour of the island and shown the place Mandella was held. Your tour guide is an ex-inmate, so someone of real knowledge.

Now, I was under the impression Mandela was held in solitary confinement during his time in prison but apparently not. Mandella had access to other prisoners, sports facilities and even a garden of his own.

That all said, he had his freedom taken away and that can never be rectified.

The visit to Robyn island-inspired us and we wanted to know more so we embarked (when we left Cape Town) on visiting the Nelson Mandela Museum at Mthatha.

Ironically, as we approached the town, we were stopped by the police and informed there were riots taking place and what was our business in town? We told them we wanted to visit the museum. Their retort was to offer us an escort there.

Once we arrived, we were parked directly in front of the building and the police instructed all security staff to guard our truck. We felt humbled and on entering the museum, we realised we were the only visitors?

The contents were mainly copies of posters and poorly made statues of Mandella and his colleagues. Not at all inspiring, I'm afraid.

So, what have we learnt so far from this country?

Diversity for a start. So many factions pulling in so many ways.

My understanding is, that Whites tolerate Blacks and Blacks tolerate Whites.

Both have their own cultures and so it should be (in my opinion)

The colours don't mix (including coloured's and Blacks), they prefer their own company although I am told this is changing with time and education.

The whites have the upper hand and hold most of the aces (fact, not a nice one but the truth). Hopefully, the tide is changing but we will see.

SA is a really interesting mix and we have just removed the lid. With the truck almost on the floor due to the weight of all the wine we bought, we head East now and who knows what we will discover.

South Africa - Simply amazing and we ain't done here yet!

Can we make it?

District 6 Museum. Cape Town. An area of Cape Town where all inhabitants were moved from the area for development. Mainly a Black area at the time and is now a trendy/Arty area.

A beautiful morning.

The entrance to Robyn Island prison.

Some rare and beautiful Pansy shells were found on a beach. Rare, but Charlotte found 3 in one hit!

I took this photograph in the Nelson Mandella museum. Interesting words?

A few facts to finish.

If SA was 100 people

80 would be Black

9 would be Coloured

8 would be white

2 would be Indian /Asian

80% of the population are Christian

Population per Sqm

SA 44

UK 264

USA 33

Send a bolt of lightning. Very very frightening me!!

Angola, what a country.

Whatever it was about the country, we loved it and enjoyed our time as we were blessed with sun for most of the time of our visit but all good things come to an end and so when we approached the border to cross into The Democratic Republic of the Congo, it was with a little scepticism as the heavens opened and water cascaded down the roads and pavements.

I remember watching a street vendor cooking her food with rivers of water running over her feet whilst she stirred the boiling broth she was preparing as though it was normal.

Leaving Angola was much easier than arriving and as we drove through the gates and into no man's land, the rain seemed to intensify as loud cracks of thunder all around us made us jump.

The thunder was followed by a huge thunderbolt hitting the floor quite near us - very scary.

I have attached a small video as Charlotte managed to capture the event (excuse the language).

At that stage, we didn't realise we were entering a real-life wild west show.

We had been warned not to wild camp under any circumstances. We were told, It was just not safe to do so and as we left the border post, it was already midway through the afternoon and it was a long drive to Kinshasa the Capital, our intended destination and we knew we couldn't make it that day. We needed somewhere to stay en route, but there are no campsites in the DRC at all……

It soon became obvious that the DRC had little infrastructure so options were limited so breaking one of our golden rules. DON'T DRIVE IN THE DARK. We had no choice, no factories to park up next to and no police stations, no Hotels, nothing, so on we drove.

The roads were, like much of Africa, appalling, with large potholes and areas of no tarmac at all. The driving of the cars and lorries were undoubtedly the worst we had seen anywhere in the world bar none!

Most cars had someone sitting on the bonnet or roof, as did the lorries. Cars and lorries overtook at speed regardless of anything really. It was shocking.

We soon lost count of the number of wrecks that were abandoned on the roadside. We saw at least two vehicles that had just been involved in accidents in the first two hours of driving. We saw lorry cabs smashed as two lorries had collided together.

As the night drew in we slowed right down when a minibus containing around 20 people hurtled past us at a breakneck speed. The driver, not knowing as he pulled in, there was a broken-down car just ahead. He tried to swerve out again and rolled the vehicle right in front of our eyes. The windows fell out of the vehicle but it ended up on its wheels after rolling 3 times.

We shone our headlights and everyone seemed to be alive and then the driver jumped out of the vehicle and ran at speed into the thick undergrowth at the roadside never to be seen again.

We froze for a short while and then as hard as it was to do, we drove on.

Being white and a tourist, we would have been implicated and the consequences could have been ??? Whatever it would involve us shelling out a load of money anyway and probably worse.

Eventually, we chanced upon a hotel with a walled-in area and agreed on an exorbitant fee of $40.00 to park for the night but we were happy to pay.

They use American Dollars in the DRC as their currency is so devalued, that you would need a wheelbarrow full of it to buy bread!

The next day we followed a lorry in a traffic jam up a hill and a guy followed the lorry and every time it stopped, he put a brick under one of the wheels as it had no brakes.

Getting to Kinshasha the capital came as a relief. A complete contrast to the rest of what we had seen so far. Another shinney, modern city but with an undercurrent of something sinister in the air.

The accommodation was a little easier to find, so we settled on a large 5-star hotel and paid $50.00 a night for the privilege of staying in their car park.

The Hotel had its own armed security force and several armed Policemen patrolling the fences so we felt safe.

As we settled in, the head of security for the hotel approached us with a policeman.

They enquired if we were okay and if we felt safe. We said we did and all was well.

They then asked if they could see where we kept our guns for their records. We told them we didn't have any guns and after a brief exchange between the two men, they laughed and looked at us, as though to say “Stupid tourists!”

It wasn't all bad. We spoke with most of the staff who wanted to see our truck and others visiting the hotel. Everyone was friendly and pleased to see tourists but warned us to be vigilant and not wear jewellery, take little cash and no cards and not to take our phones when we went out.

One guy we spoke with, spoke about the embarrassment of the African people at the Migrants trying to escape to Europe.

“Why do they go,” he said. Europe has few natural resources and we have Oil, Gold, Diamonds and a plethora of valuable minerals in huge quantities. Why don't they stay and benefit from what we are blessed with?

Hotel guests checking out our truck in Kinshasa - The DRC capital.

Our time in Kinshasa was short. After a taxi ride and a boy sticking his hand through the window of the Taxi, trying to steal the $4.00 taxi fare (unsuccessfully), from my hand, we decided to move on.

We wanted to take the ferry to the Congo.

The Congo is just a few hundred meters across the river. You can easily see the other side.

We were stamped out of the DRC and awaited the ferry, then came the news we couldn't use the ferry (due to our size) and needed a private barge and that was going to be $1000.00.

We weren't overly polite and we turned around and headed south, we will save the countries further north for another trip someday as we headed south.

The long slog back to the Angolan border was a long drive and we knew we needed a stopover somewhere, but where? As we drove we chanced upon a large haulage yard. Not pretty, but safe and protected by 3 armed guards and walled in. We gave it a try and pulled in and asked if we could stay the night. The answer was thankfully yes.

The manager was happy to have company for the night and gave us sweet Coffee and fruit to eat.

I have to mention this guy (Bahsoon), he was born in Sierra Leone to Lebonese parents and now lived in the DRC. Twice married and twice divorced he devoted his life to his work and his beautiful daughters of mixed race.

He was fascinating to talk to and was a wealth of knowledge. Bahsoon explained the locals have little regard for life and theft is almost mandatory due to the poverty levels caused in the main by corrupt Governments. Farming has just about ceased as the farmer will tend his/her crops only to have them stolen just as the crop is ready. Anarchy rules the DRC.

The east of the DRC is covered by vast rain forests and Oil is huge out that way. We were told these areas are totally unpoliced and not to venture out that way.

Bahsoon told us about hardwood timber being logged at an alarming rate, that was bound for China.

He said they average around 30 loads a day,7 days a week.

We counted an average of 6 trees per load on the lorries we saw - You do the maths!

A young guy tends his shop.

More Timber bound for China.

Now that's a load!

Using a brick for brakes - Tidy!

We left Bahsoon the next day and made the border unscathed, we wished we could have stayed longer.

To sum up. The DRC was an experience and not a good one. Not a place I want to return to either.

The cross over back into Angola was a great relief and we quickly headed south through Namibia to South Africa and drank Wine!

DRC Facts

Population 89,000,000

Congo River is the world's second-largest river by volume.

The DRC accounts for the majority of the Congo and the DRC’s 178 million hectares of rainforest.

Life expectancy 65 years old

Main exports - Refined copper - $11 Billion annually and Cobolt Oxide -$3 Billion.

Another wreck. One of dozens we saw.

See the legs sticking out from the Hurst.

Battsoon. A guy of great interest to us. Serving us sweet coffee in his home.

Not the prettiest, but a good safe place to stay in a haulage yard with 3 Armed guards.

Thankfully, we didn't need medical attention!

A container lost from a lorry.

Another load is bound for China.

Life is full of surprises!

Seven hours it took to cross into Angola. Seven hours.

They wanted photographs of all angles of the truck and Motorbike, they wanted us to get them stamped and then take them on to another department and then another and another, but most of all, they wanted our American dollars.

So, we entered with a mindset that was soon to be dashed thank goodness.

I don't think I have ever met a more friendly bunch of people in my life.

Everyone had huge grins and waved at us as we passed shouting greetings in Portuguese whilst Obrigada was all we could muster up.

Pretty good when your life expectancy is only 63, it used to be 41!

All I really remember of Angola was the grainy black and white TV footage from my childhood showing the war taking place and the MPLA and UNITA battling for supremacy. Remember Princess Diana in body armour walking in an active mine field? Yes? That was Angola in 1997. Thankfully that's all behind them now and Angola was until recently, growing at a phenomenal rate partially due to its Oil which it has lots of.

Buying Diesel for the truck in Angola was most enjoyable with Diesel topping out at around 20p a litre. Much, much cheaper than beer or water and when you have a big thirsty beast as we have, it's a real joy.

After spending so much time crossing the border, the day was almost over so we looked for a place to stop as there are few if any actual campsites in the country.

We found a small path leading off the main road and managed to get the truck in a position where we couldn't be seen, so we felt safe for the night.

As we settled in, a group of women presumably on their way home from working in the fields walked by and stopped to check us out. They were simple countrywomen and I guess and I guess working the fields all your life, you don't learn about personal space and they congregated around our stairs and stared up into the truck gesticulating that they wanted food.

This is something that everyone now does as we drive past and we are not sure if it's learnt behaviour or a real need?.

Anyway, we gave the women cooking Oil, flour and a few other items and they went away happy. What we then saw were two little boys who had stood behind the women and looked terrible. Assuming they were with the women, we carried on with our day assuming they would at least be fed that night. The next morning the boys reappeared and I produced a shiny new bat and ball set in fluorescent pink and yellow that I gave them as a gift and I took a photograph of the occasion for my own satisfaction.

They looked happy but not ecstatic with the offering.

As we drove away I thought about these boys and it hit me like a train. They wanted food, not some fancy toy produced in China. I have regretted that day ever since and we even went back to try and find the boys to no avail.

Where are they now?

On a similar theme, the next day we hit the town of Lubango just as the heavens opened. We sought sanctuary in a large 5-star hotel and asked if we could park for the night to which they instantly agreed and said we were most welcome.

The carpark was full of shiny new 4x4 vehicles and we parked at the back away from them. On closer inspection, we realised these were all vehicles belonging to various charities.

Later that day, as we wanted to repay the kindness of the hotel, we ate in the restaurant that night and watched as legions of charity workers ordered lavish meals and clicked their fingers at waiters to be topped up with the free-flowing wine.

The next morning the weather was good and we watched these charity workers get into their chauffeur-driven vehicles and head out through the gates patrolled by armed guards whilst through the fence of the hotel, starving children held out their hands wanting food as the convoy of vehicles sped past completely ignoring the needs of the children.

Oh, the Irony of it all.

There wasn't water everywhere in Angola, many areas were experiencing a drought and at a later date, we were flagged down by a woman desperate for water to drink and cook with. We helped her fill all her pots and pans from an outside tap we have on the truck and we thought about the parallel universe of this poor woman taking life-saving water from a vehicle she would never be able to dream of never mind afford.

Still, in many areas, the rains continued to fall and that made driving difficult at times and never more so than when we traversed the notorious Serra da Leba. A series of hairpin bends led to the bottom of a mountain and we passed down it in heavy rain.

Before we started our descent we passed a police checkpoint and after checking our papers the officer said something, I asked him to repeat his words and then Google translated it.

He said “Good luck and may God go with you”……

I have attached a library photograph from Google it's classed as one of the world's most dangerous roads and we somehow didn't fancy stopping for a photo opportunity?

That's all sounds really dramatic but we are enjoying every minute of what we are doing and Angola is truly stunning with the landscape changing, twisting and turning at every corner almost.

Unlike many African countries, Angola has two sides.

The country people live in mud huts and the cities that wouldn't look out of place in Europe with Luanda, the capital being the jewel in the crown.

Superfast wifi, Tall glass-clad buildings and oozing wealth with the townships surrounding the stunning centre.

Whilst in Luanda, were able to stay at the Naval club or Yacht club as we would call it I guess?

The President of the Naval club is a keen Overlander and welcomes all Overlanders to stay for free in the carpark that doesn't sound glamorous but with with a view of the Ocean and the city, we didn't complain and this kind gentleman also took Charlotte and I for lunch, with his wife and daughter. Such a kind jesture.

The conversation was very interesting as Jorge spoke perfect English and the conversation soon got around to the big C that we all hate.

Jorge informed me it wasn't Covid the big killer in Angola, Malaria was and he reminded us that we were in the Malaria belt and told us we must always use nets (which we do) and always cream up (which we do).

Jorge then settled our nerves by telling us that although Malaria is a huge killer, the hospitals know how to deal with it and test for Malaria just like we have our Blood pressure taken. It's just routine he said.

I think that made us feel better?

Sometime later and we were heading to see some waterfalls where we intended to spend the night as we had read that are a must-see.

Around 20km shy of the Falls, we were stopped by the Police which we assumed was to be a simple document check. It turned out the bridge ahead had been washed away by the rain and the road was unpassable.

Now I'm no stranger to foreign languages but being told that information in Portuguese and then trying to translate it into English …. Well, let's just say it took a while.

Once we had the facts we faced 150km of backtracking along a narrow unmade road that had taken many hours to pass and darkness was just around the corner so we enquired using sign language again if we could sleep by the checkpoint for the night, but that was a breeze at the side of the last information exchange!

The Policeman told us to wait a while and then pointed to a house (there were only 4) where we must park outside.

We parked as instructed and to our surprise, a gentleman in a shinny uniform came from the house and introduced himself. He was the police Comandante of that area and as he spoke English, he told us we were welcome to stay outside his house and we would be safe.

We slept well that night!

Angola is a place we will return and savour. It's a place that deserves a visit.

It's a place of two faces. In Luanda, the capital we bought 3 Green peppers and some bread - £10.00!

In the country, we bought a bucket of Avocados from the side of the road. We estimated around 6KG of Advacodo’s - £2.00?

Fuel 20p a litre?

What does it all mean?

A fascinating country. Please go and take a look.

Quick facts

Population - Around 34 million

Size of the Country - Around 3to 4 times the size of the UK

Average monthly income - $35.00 a month

The population of the capital Luanda - is 2.5 million

Angola, what a lovely place. It will stay with Charlotte and I forever.

Our follow on from Angola was to drive into the Democratic Republic of the Congo or DRC for short…… Hmm, not that's a place!