Arrived in Congo

The contrasts in Africa never cease. Boarded the Air Services flight to Brazzaville. On time. Beautiful, comfortable aircraft. Impeccable service – a snack in a one hour flight! Arrive on time – brand new bus drives us a few hundred feet. Fill out the landing cards and queue up. Spyros gets a question about his hotel reservation but they let him in. Claire and Laurie get the same question – but the same paper does not work. Akos waves his arms and screams – and they finally let him go get Jean Pierre – who will be with us for the next week. Akos tells us we do not have a certain stamp from the hotel (which makes no sense since we could not have gotten the visas without it -- but this is Africa).

The police lets us go past the window to collect our bags and we pile everything up by the little guard shack where our passports are locked up. At least we are not in the holding bin where a bunch of Africans are snacking and just cooling their heels. By now I am thinking maybe I should bribe the guard so he puts me on the 11:30 PM flight to Paris. It is incredibly hot. The Cameroonian soccer team deplanes. There is a bunch of screaming and carrying on. Akos says Jean Pierre has to go get the stamp from the hotel and we will have to wait 40 minutes or so. He wants to teach us a song (by now I want to strangle him – I do not need to learn “Leaving on a Jet Plane” while the Congo police has my passport).

After a couple of minutes I decide the best plan is to mentally remove myself from the situation. So I take out my book – sit on some luggage and read. A fat policeman asks me if I am Italian. I say no (even though I am some 6% Italian – thanks to Abuela’s Genovese ancestor). Then I wonder how much I am worth –I hope at least more than the 7 Euros a British woman is worth. I read 2-3 pages and Jean Pierre turns up. Apparently the President needed all the rooms at the “luxurious” Hotel Olympic. But not to worry – Akos tells us – we now have reservations at the not quite as luxurious Hotel Saphir.

We made our way through the airport and into four taxis. A short drive and we are at Hotel Saphir. It is pretty reasonable -- by African standards. We sit by the pool to fill in our registration forms. Only in Africa do you go from the super hot, crowded immigration “holding” to a (relatively) beautiful setting with birds chirping. We get our room first – as opposed to Lope where we were last. At least the room has air conditioning and hot water. My expectations are very, very different. Listening to CNN – extremely depressing how much $ has been lost in the markets.

I wonder what tomorrow holds – I think we have a domestic flight – dread the airport – I think we go to the domestic airport. We shall see … it is such a see saw – gorgeous settings and views followed by uncertain, scary situations. I guess we have 3 African border checks left – and then our flight to Paris next Friday. I can make it eight more nights …..