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 
Perfect for that third foot.
LikeLike
‘Pop quiz: Which country was this photo taken in?’
Mozambique?
LikeLike
Actually, must be Chek republic
LikeLike
Embra
15. Blair Kinghorn (88)
14. Darcy Graham (30)
13. James Johnstone (49)
12. Chris Dean (89) CAPTAIN
11. Duhan van der Merwe (58)
10. Nathan Chamberlain (1)
9. Charlie Shiel (17)
1. Pierre Schoeman (41)
2. Mike Willemse (19)
3. Simon Berghan (79)
4. Nick Haining (12)
5. Jamie Hodgson (7)
6. Magnus Bradbury (75)
7. Hamish Watson (108)
8. Viliame Mata (72)
Replacements: 16. Stuart McInally (143) 17. Rory Sutherland (82) 18. WP Nel (140) 19. Marshall Sykes* 20. Luke Crosbie (40) 21. Roan Frostwick* 22. Jaco van der Walt (56) 23. Matt Gordon*
LikeLike
Yoof-tastic
LikeLike
Chek Monarchy. Definitely not a Republic.
LikeLike
Strange mix
Total inexperience at half back. A back rower at lock along with a sprog & a debutant on the bench
Pretty solid at second & & tasty back row.
Centres solid rather than world beating. A very nice looking back 3. Debutant on the bench
LikeLike
Weedgies:
1. Oli Kebble (48)
2. Fraser Brown (C) (99)
3. Zander Fagerson (92)
4. Richie Gray (48)
5. Scott Cummings (69)
6. Ryan Wilson (169)
7. Tom Gordon (18)
8. Matt Fagerson (62)
9. George Horne (56)
10. Adam Hastings (43)
11. Ratu Tagive (12)
12. Stafford McDowall (20)
13. Nick Grigg (70)
14. Tommy Seymour (143)
15. Huw Jones (36)
Replacements
16. George Turner (48)
17. Charlie Capps (0)
18. Enrique Pieretto (0)
19. Rob Harley (231)
20. Chris Fusaro (178)
21. Ali Price (87)
22. Pete Horne (170)
23. Robbie Nairn (9)
LikeLike
Fewer changes by the weedge. They do need a win, bless ’em.
Jones at FB again, thought he did fine there last week. Forgot about Nairn.
LikeLike
Embra by 90
LikeLike
Kind of enjoyed watching the midweek prem games, if only to see how much a second string side is a good step below the first, and not necessarily the quality of players. Glaws backline yesterday was fairly classy, Atkinson, Trinder, SHarples, Zammit and Banahan, but looked really ring rusty. Bananaman looked great as ever tho.
LikeLike
@tomp
That Land of Hope and Glory and Rule, Brittania malarkey would have filled a few hours on AoD when he and CJ were around.
LikeLike
I don’t often shudder but I think I just did.
LikeLike
On top of that thing you just mentioned, OT, the Lib Dems have just elected the less interesting candidate as their leader. That would have set a pulse or two racing.
LikeLike
Ooooh, that smarts just thinking about it. “Layla Moran – good or bad?” would have occupied more than a few column inches of Sag’s hard earned server space.
LikeLike
“That Land of Hope and Glory and Rule, Brittania malarkey”
With Jerusalem just around the corner from those we’d have needed the Cat too. Obviously Jerusalem without the music would have been the right answer.
LikeLike
“Layla Moran – good or bad?”
Maybe.
LikeLike
“Chek Monarchy.”
Constitutional monarchy with an unwritten constitution. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
LikeLike
Chek is David Starkey and I claim my five BBC documentaries on the monarchy.
LikeLike
““Voters don’t believe the Lib Dems want to help ordinary people get on in life,” he said. “Voters don’t believe we share their values. And voters don’t believe we are on the side of people like them. Voters have been sending us a message, but we have not been listening. It is time for us to start listening,” he said. “I am listening now.””
Ed Davey sounds to me like someone given to talking when he should be listening.
LikeLike
How would we know he’s listening even when he’s not talking?
LikeLike
The less we have to know the better. I don’t agree with his analysis anyway – the only reason I think he should be listening is because he says he is.
LikeLike
If a politician listened to me they probably wouldn’t like what they heard.
LikeLike
Starmer: Listening but not talking so we don’t know what he’d do about anything.
Johnson: Neither talking nor listening as he doesn’t have to.
Davey: Talking about listening.
Farage: Singing apparently.
Luckily there’s nothing going on that needs to be addressed.
LikeLike
@OT – what if they sang?
LikeLike
@cmw
I’d sing louder. I can guarantee I’ve got a bigger gob than any politician.
LikeLike
Requiescat in pace, Ian Paisley Sr. As I’m sure he wouldn’t have liked to bark.
LikeLike
It’d be a close one, I grant you.
LikeLike
I was in the baker’s earlier. I said to him, “How come all your cakes cost £2 and that one is three quid”
He said, “That one’s Madeira Cake”
LikeLiked by 6 people
I went into the butcher’s yesterday and asked “can I have a mince round?”
Butcher said “you can do what you want as long as you buy something”.
LikeLiked by 5 people
As told by a teacher to a group of kids in Govan. They didn’t get it.
LikeLike
A man walks into the caravan shop and says “I’d like to buy a caravan please”. The sales assistant says “perhaps a little camper” so the bloke says “oooh, I’d like to buy a caravan please”.
Doesn’t really work written down.
LikeLiked by 4 people
Works well OT. Just sent it to a group of my mates where I’m the only straight male and they loved it. Spent the weekend with this bunch of mates down in a little town near the Lesotho border. 9 of us, 5 guys, 4 girls, I was the only one not ogling the hot young guys in town. Food was sublime. But then I cooked!
LikeLike
GwF Hegel’s 250th birthday today.
Thesis: Tpday is 250 years since Hegel was born.
Antithesis: The calendar is a construct. It’s meaningless to say ….
Synthesis: Happy Birthday, Maestro.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Bury FC tough times, very sad etc. But they got some seriouz ladz in to write the last bit of this:
https://www.buryfc.co.uk/news/latest-statement-07-08-2020/august/club-update/
LikeLike
David Hume could out-consume
Wilhelm Freidrich Hegel
LikeLiked by 2 people
Bury falling out of the league probably won’t be the last from that region. Wigan, Bolton and Oldham are all racing to join Bury and Stalybridge Celtic in non-league oblivion.
LikeLike
At least it’ll take more than going bust to shift Rochdale out of Leagues 1 and 2.
LikeLike
Good drama:-
https://www.theguardian.com/tv-and-radio/2020/aug/27/i-hate-suzie-review-billie-piper-is-nude-lewd-and-joyously-off-the-rails
Really good drama:-
Good fucking grief.
LikeLike
Wrong speech, but you get the idea, chek out last nights one.
LikeLike
In deference to how weird and fucked up my computer has gone since posting that, let me clarify, how gorgeous, beautiful, and thoroughly convincing Ivanka was tonight. Wow, what a speech.
LikeLike
Is that heavy sarcasm?
LikeLike
Caught parts of Trump jr’s & Guilfoyle’s speeches over the past week. Came across as deranged & detached from reality from where I’m sitting.
Guess a lot of people like that sort of thing.
LikeLike
Chimpie, it’s quite frightening how many otherwise rational people lose the plot when it comes to politics. I chatted to a client of mine (partner in a major international company) in the UK during May’s term in office, who was “convinced that she is absolutely the best person for the job” (his words, not mine) and wouldn’t hear any criticism of her handling of Brexit.
I haven’t had a chance to ask about Bojo and his apparent appointment of Tony fucking Abbott as his trade czar, but doubtless he would defend it – he’s tribal Tory. As with so much of Trump’s ‘base’ or perhaps they should be called Trump’s Rump because they seem have a lot of arseholes amongst them. Bolsanaro, not to be outdone, will probably invade Argentina in search of the last remaining Nazi to appoint him as Minister of the Amazon people, with the likes of Putin, Xi, Modi, Duterte and a motley assortment of Sgt. Pepper’s attired strongmen from Africa, the Middle and central Asia in hot pursuit of the honour of Fuckwit of the Year.
I often wonder if the world has always had such utterly lousy and contemptible strongmen in such abundance, but we’ve not noticed because of lack of immediate, global news, or if we’re in an era of such global uncertainty and instability that these lunatics find an easy path to the top.
LikeLike
They’ve always been around
Just been relatively few in more recent times & we haven’t been affected as much in Europe & US (until now).
LikeLike
Anti-Magyar prejudice again from Deebee so-called7. Where’s Central Europe’s worst, Mr Orban?
LikeLike
The Yellow Cap is a virtual achievement honouring the best pool performance in each round. Winners see it proudly displayed alongside their names in the pool leaderboard.
MisterIks won the Yellow Cap in Domination, Aviva Style in Round 16.
Far too humble to brag, so I’ll do it for him. And raced to the top of the leader board too!
LikeLike
Sorry TomP. Not so much an anti-Magyar bias, as looking for countries and regions with a bit of global relevance.
LikeLike
I’m always prone to stumble over the fences in the home straight, DeeBee. ‘Bath are away to Exeter but The Priest is at 10? Then Bath by 10.
Or: Will the Drags win? Yes, every week!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I saw Guilfoyle’s during a Stephen Colbert monologue, not knowing what to expect. Proper laugh out loud moment that was.
LikeLike