Having said goodbye to John, probably for the last time (unless I can catch up with him in Lubumbashi), I headed back into the hotel to prepare for the week ahead: a market study on the potential for a new cement plant in the country. A completely different proposition, and one that requires navigating through the minefields of Congolese bureaucracy, suspicion, open secrecy and no small amount of corruption. I was unusually serene though, with the client being local and having organised my visa on arrival for the visit. Dinner was good, if overpriced, as is usual in Kinshasa, and I was looking forward to a different side of Kin and then the drive to Matadi port, some 350km south-west of Kin on the border with Angola. I’ve done the trip a number of times and it’s always exciting to see the mighty Congo River up close and personal.
I met up with Mo, we shall call him, a Middle Eastern businessman who had lived in Congo for 30-odd years on the Monday morning, and we mapped out the week ahead. Fabulous coffee, with Mo smoking a packet of twenty before 11 am, and alternately swearing at everyone in the office and flirting outrageously with every woman who walked into the building. We headed out after lunch at a great Lebanese restaurant (Lebanese businesses are very prominent from Senegal to Angola on Africa’s west coast, much like the Indian diaspora dominates much of the eastern seaboard) and began our series of meetings with key contractors, large building materials resellers and logistics companies, gathering a goldmine of data you simply can’t get any other way. After a couple of days of this, we headed for Matadi.
The Matadi Highway is a misnomer: it’s a single lane each way, takes about two or three hours to get out of or into Kinshasa because of the congestion and is riddled with potholes, partially collapsed bridges and markets that encroach onto the road. It’s also the only road linking the port of Matadi with the 40 million people on the western side of DRC who depend entirely on the port for imports of almost everything. The road winds along partly parallel to the river, partly meandering between the hills. It’s very windy, with lots of blind rises and corners, and broken-down cars and jack-knifed trucks spilling bananas across the road a common feature.
This doesn’t deter Congolese drivers, especially Mo, who drive at the limits of whatever vehicle they’re in. Mo spent the journey smoking non-stop and alternatively swearing into one phone and cackling outrageously into another, with a fourth hand on the hooter as we drove through small villages and the markets spilling onto the ‘highway’. We stopped twice for funeral processions. Mo wound down his window and showered the mourners with cash, of which he had a never-ending supply in various currencies.
We arrived in Matadi around nine hours after we left Kin and headed for our hotel, which sprawled across one side of a hill, built in the style of an entire Tuscan village, except with dodgy wiring, dodgier water and a large cinema-style screen, to show the football, next to the pool and bar. We had a great dinner of Congo River prawns and fish, followed by the ubiquitous peri-peri chicken, chips and loads of beer. Mo was in his element, especially as more and more of the local hookers took up residence in the bar waiting for the assortment of local businessmen, visitors from Kin and Angola, and bored sailors to get drunk and loosen their purse strings. Time to exit.
The following morning, we headed to the port to look at the state of it. Pretty run down, with most of the cranes not much more than scrap, although it could pass as a post-modern art installation in parts of Europe. “No fuckin’ click-click here!” barked Mo as we arrived, as photographing any public building in the Congo can land you in prison. I’ve been there loads of times and am well aware of it. We handed in our passports (and US $200 to Mo’s contact) and headed for the meeting: a torturous affair, with slow, heaving cascades of hierarchy and protocol you could stick a turbine on and run a small city off. We got what we expected – precisely nothing – and headed off to the private port concession around the river bend after collecting our passports from the bored guards.
More passport control, despite it being a private concession. Great meeting with a young Belgian guy who also happened to have started a rugby club in the town. He was delighted to be able to talk rugby for a while, interspersed with sighs and eye-rolling about Congolese corruption.
As we left, we collected our passports, except this time the officer smiled and addressed me in English. My heart sank. It means only one thing: bribes, which I don’t pay. “M. Deebee (obviously reads OB), may I have a word? Come sit. Let’s talk about your passport.” I didn’t have a visa to be here apparently.
“Not true”, I replied with a flourish and showed him the stamped visa on arrival. “Yes, but visa on arrival is only valid for the province of arrival,” he smiled, warming to his task. “I must arrest you.” A furious exchange between the officer and Mo in Lingala, punctuated by swearing in French and English, along with mutual backslapping and laughter went on for thirty minutes or so before the officer beamed and turned to me. “Come, you need to come with me.”
He didn’t have a car, so we were obliged to give him a lift to the police headquarters where I was put into a cell. No lights, no windows, just a hole in the rickety door for light and air. No Wi-Fi or internet obviously, no phone signal. Nothing. Just heat and stale sweat for company, with the occasional sounds of Mo flirting, fighting, laughing and swearing at and with anyone in whichever room he was in.
Time dragged on and I began to worry that I was in real trouble, not just US$100-and-fuck-off trouble. Eventually, six hours later, Mo arrived, ice cold beer in hand, huge smile, even bigger apology and flung open the door. “Come! We go! I’ve sorted it. You fuckin’ expensive, you!” Cue more laughter. The officer was delighted with his work, worth US $800 to him and nothing to the state, and we were on our way to the border town of Lufu, a gateway for informal trade with Angola over the rickety Lufu bridge on the Lufu river. But that’s a story for another day.
As told by the convict formerly known as Deebee7.
Proper rugby returneth
Friday 21st August
| Western Force v Reds | 10:05 | Sky Sports Action |
| Sale v Exeter | 18:00 | BT Sport 2 |
| Treviso v Zebre | 19:00 | Premier Sports 1 |
| Wasps v Worcester | 19:45 | BT Sport Extra |
| Gloucester v Bristol | 19:45 | BT Sport Extra |
Saturday 22nd August
| Brumbies v Waratahs | 10:15 | Sky Sports Action |
| Saracens v Quins | 12:30 | BT Sport Extra |
| Scarlets v Cardiff | 15:00 | Premier Sports 1 |
| Leicester v Bath | 16:30 | BT Sport 3 |
| Edinburgh v Glasgow | 17:15 | Premier Sports 1 |
| Leinster v Munster | 19:35 | Premier Sports 1 |
Sunday 23rd August
| Ospreys v Dragons | 14:15 | Premier Sports 1 |
| Connacht v Ulster | 16:30 | TG4 / Premier Sports 1 |
Tuesday 25th August
| Wasps v Sale | 17:30 | BT Sport 2 |
| Bristol v Exeter | 19:45 | BT Sport 2 |
Wednesday 26th August
| Leicester v London Irish | 18:00 | BT Sport Extra |
| Saracens v Gloucester | 18:00 | BT Sport Extra |
| Worcester v Quins | 18:00 | BT Sport Extra |
| Northampton v Bath | 19:45 | BT Sport 2 |
Ovally Balls 
This is a bit of a joke now
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Think Earls got that!
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Proper wing play by Earls.
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Toner got binned for reaching for a squint throw in
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Beautiful conversion. 4 points in it; 15 mins to go.
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Keith for the corner!
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Pleasing embra score. Only saw bits as was laying a floor. Flipping knackered
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Twas a lovely run by shiel I saw.
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C’mon Leinster. Don’t even let them have a LBP.
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Is taking Conor Murray off a good idea when so much is at stake?
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Got lovely neighbours at the mo. Had bad ones in the past though. Few things worse.
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Munster score! So exciting.
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Shit. Great finish by Conway.
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Casey’s pass is zippy as anything. What a player he looks.
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Ireland have good depth at winger, Conway is a top finisher
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Oh fuck, conversion missed!
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Toner back on already? Seems like only ten seconds has passed.
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Famous Munster drop goal coming up … I hope!
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Aaargh!
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Oh jeebus, a couple of serious fuck-ups.
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That was a weird decision from the Munster scrum half
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Oh bloody hell, that (kicking it off the pitch at the end) was a lack of ambition. But perhaps the safer option.
Well, that was a great match. I LOVE RUGBY.
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So good having rugby back
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Grown men battering each other for my amusement
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That was an enjoyable second half. Bit scrappy as most of the matches I’ve seen so far have been but some fine play.
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Q. Would it have been better for Ulster if Munster had won?
I’m asking due to Steven Ferris’ reaction to the game
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I’ll leave this here for now but come back to it in the week.
When I was in South Africa, I liked watching the big pro lads play and I went to a fair number of University matches where I got to see some future stars playing but the rugby I probably enjoyed most was the schools stuff. There were usually a couple of matches a week live on telly and I went to a few live matches at Affies, Pretoria Boys and Menlo Park as I lived in the middle of the three schools, a kilometre or so from each school.
There’s a youtube channel called schoolsportlive that I’ve been watching live games on since I came back to Europe and it’s entertaining stuff. This year, obviously, they haven’t had anything to show since the middle of March. And I hadn’t checked the channel for ages. I did check it earlier today and they’ve done a canny thing.
They’ve got some old VHSes and digitised them and have a few old old games. This is probably the one I’m most excited about watching. 1988 Grey Bloem, who play the most beautiful rugby, against Queens College.
At the beginning there are the captains of the two teams having a chat 32 years on. The Grey captain went on to play for the Springboks. He’s Charl Marais. He was a tight-head at school but played hooker for SA.
Also in the Grey team, playing at 6 – open side in South Africa – was Naka Drotske. He also ended up getting capped at hooker by SA and later became Cheetahs coach.
At centre for Grey is Heinrich Fuls. Moved to Joburg and got some caps for the Boks in the mid 1990s.
At 15 is Pieter Muller. Cardiff Legend, 30-odd caps for the Boks.
The 11 Andre Blom went to the States and played 10 times for the US Eagles, including the 99 RWC.
But best of all is Ruben Kruger playing at 7 for Grey. It’s worth watching the chat just to hear what Charl Marais says about Kruger.
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There;s another that I’ll put the link up for when Deebee’s around.
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So it looks like Edinburgh will be entertaining Ulster in the semi final, I don’t think it’s possible for another outcome.
Then Munster will go back to Dublin for another crack at Leinster.
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There won’t be a knockout blow, rather a chip chipping away.
I hope this will help to bring Thaum one step closer to the Country fold
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George North could be getting sent off here
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Yep, red.
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Get in, a 30+ metre score from the Dragons’ tighthead.
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Well, maybe just short of 30m but it was a thing of beauty
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Now the O’s hooker runs a scrumhalf’s supporting line to score
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Decent forty minutes, two tries each, 20-15 to Os at half time
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What was the red for?
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@TomP – here i am now, entertain me.
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North took his opposite number out in the air and he landed very badly, it was very nearly very bad, it was really clumsy from North.
He had scored with an impressive finish with his first touch, too.
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The first score of the second half comes on 79 mins, Sam Davis just misses the conversion.
20 all
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Yippee! Ulster match imminent.
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Ulster tight head looks like he enjoyed lockdown
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Cooney with first blood – 3 pts.
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Stockdale has a boot on him, hasn’t he?
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WTF Stockdale hair ‘cut’ – shave, rather.
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Boot and a haircut – three points!
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Good try by Connacht. Bastards.
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Anyone know why they’re playing at the Aviva?
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Connacht play some lovely rugby. Just wish they wouldn’t do it against us.
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Is the Aviva a covid-free bubble?
I think Murrayfield was designated as such
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