From Congo to Congo, through the Congo (continued, part 3) curse in the camper we had to overcome several tens of kilometers in a covered lorry. We loaded the stuff in advance, and sat, watching as the "salon" filled with people on the sly. Talk about some elementary comfort was not necessary. People sat wherever possible, in the most improbable of twisted postures. If you got away 5 passengers, 10 new climbed inside. If anyone went away with a big trunk, someone will climb inside with 800 kg of rice. Generally speaking, the fact that the truck is still broke into pieces, can be regarded as a miracle. At the checkpoints have been taken from the brazen attempt to get us our money, but we have always refused to pay. In the end, the sun went down, and a tedious journey in the camper was going on. Even in the darkness, the 20-kilometer stretch of road to the city Dolisi I, along with another twenty brave rode on the roof of the van, his hands tightly gripping the grid that attaches the luggage. Leg at sunset assault weapons against passengers recall another episode of the very bright, memorable, traveling by rail. Already deep in the night we managed to get to Dolisi, and while we were in a daze Ailey, young missionaries got off the train. Until Brazzaville remains overcome two thirds of the way, and people trying to get into the cars through open windows. Comptroller climbed on the seats because it was not normally go down the aisle because of what people sat, stood and hung where you can. Behind him were three soldiers in black uniforms with machine guns, nozzles which were equipped with grenade launchers. Suddenly, I completely lost control of his seat: Two men leaned on the headrest and two more were standing there, where in theory were supposed to be my legs, another half-leaned out the window beside me, and another man sitting on my hand. Brutal realities rail service when the train entered the territory of the regions of Bouenza and Poole, which are controlled by the guerrillas at every stop there are young men with machine guns M16, Famas rifles and ubiquitous AK-47. They proudly stood on the platform and showed all his firepower. The militants got into cars and extorted from passengers 'donations', waving their arms around the person. We again sat quietly, looking at the floor, trying to become invisible. One of the "guerrilla" said denounce our military, and we will be arrested on arrival in Brazzaville. He continued to attract attention to us, when once again there were young soldiers, collecting money from passengers. I did not feel hunger, since my stomach was filled with fear. I could not even drink myself to. After 17 hours of travel I came through the window onto the roof to get some fresh air, and then saw that the roof was just full of people, many of which were apparently the guerrillas because they had guns with them. As we approach the Brazzaville guerrillas got off the train, on which people have become only more nervous. The train was so overloaded that a small rise we had to double-pass backward to accelerate and to overcome the bias. Ambassadorial ordeal in this sketch the reader will understand how difficult it is to communicate with the staff of African diplomats. Well, of course, will not be without regular "charms train comfort. Amandine mom was a true genius of oral communication. By the time we got to Dolisi, she talks with all who were in the car, and have already found out where we can go to take a shower and put himself in order. Then we went to the station, waiting for the train, where we were going to get to the city of Pointe-Noire. In the car we managed to get with great difficulty. Those who are inside, hated us because we deprive them of the already scarce remnants of free space. We had to stand all night. At some point I broke down and asked the woman who constantly pressed me with his sharp elbows, stop doing it. - "You may think what we are soft!" - She said, and muttered in French, from which her friends giggled contemptuously. Discouraged and in a bad mood, we arrived at Pointe-Noire. Mama Amandine helped us find the embassy of Angola, and then went home to his family. The Embassy has been closed, so we decided to walk around the city, and started from the quay. In the streets of a huge number of cars "Toyota Land Cruiser" transported the French to work in the major oil companies that control much of the country's economy. Local beer at the yacht club, we took a shower and eat a cheap breakfast, and then caught a taxi and returned to the Angolan Embassy. We knew we had to get a visa to Angola can be difficult, but we did not expect that the embassy staff will do everything possible to complicate this process to an incredible degree. We have mixed feelings attempted to perform their bizarre demands and asked one man in an Internet cafe to write us an application for the visa is issued in French. Unfortunately, in the end we were late to the embassy, ??where they told us to go through a couple of days. Congolese visa was valid for another four days, so in order to get to Angola, we had no chance. Reason to stay in the city have no more left, so we decided to go to Brazzaville. All told us that the roads are impassable, that a taxi or bus to get there is impossible. Plane tickets were sold out, because the planes of one of the three local airlines banned from flying (apparently, someone to someone in the government Doda bucks). They even say that in recent passengers on planes forced to stand due to the fact that the vacant seats at all lacking. Thus, it was only a train. Extreme and not the most pleasant option. Start material: Completion of material:
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