Fortaleza

We visited Fortaleza de Luanda on Dia dos Trabalhadors (May 1st), the day that Paul arrived in town. Great way to get over jet lag. Alberto, our relief driver took us there, and since we were going to be looking around for a while, we figured he should join us.

After paying the "donation" rate of 500 Kwanzas per head (seemed reasonable) we headed into the fort. The first time that we went to a Portuguese fort was in Sagres, Portugal with Paul's parents. It is the westernmost point in Portugal, and I believe in Europe too. There is a lot of history there, as I think this is where a lot of Portuguese voyages departed to explore the world. Think Vasco de Gama.

The Fortaleza in Luanda is very similar in structure - I guess that's the standardization of military design at work!. But it has some distinct characteristics that make it truly African (the warrior woman at the front was a start)...

Paul insisted the itsy bitsy guard get in the picture with me. The guard was insistent that I hold the hand of the warrior woman.  Very fun moment to chat with the guard. He was enjoying the engagement too.

What I believe to be the most masculine flag in the world; black and red, machete over gear with a Soviet star. Badass.

  

Badass

A good view of the fort design - pretty amazing

Alberto taking in the sights - he's staring out at the Ilha from this angle, the main city is in the background

The other part of the view - several cannons once were strategically positioned; now they would just blow up the Ilha and the Marginale.

The fort also had several Russian-made tanks/planes that were used when Angola was gaining its independence, and it had Agostino Neto (the founder of modern day Angola)'s collection of vehicles that he used during parades, etc.

This tank is about the same size as the one we saw lodged in the mud while crossing the Cuanza River to Cabo Ledo

Me testing out the Tires

Avionino

Willy's Jeep

Adorable little PINK car used in Neto's parade.

The interior of the fort had several statues of key Portuguese explorers and conquistadors, and the most beautiful Azulejas (painted tiles that together create a decorative historical or biblical scene). They were so unique relative to those that I saw in Portugal on our trip because they depicted African scenes with lions and giraffes, etc.

xx

The views between the two Fortalezas were very different too; in Sagres, the view is of high cliffs, rocky coast, and crashing waves, and a sea that goes on forever. In Luanda while the view might once have been similar (see Azulejas above) the view is a combination of the Marginale, the President's home (which one is not allowed to take a picture of), the Ilha, and the road heading south where our office is located (and where the Marginale will continue some day).

The Marginale runs the length of the bay - you can see the old Portuguese construction down low and the city building itself up in the background and up the hill.

Alberto and Paul looking out over the south side at the shanty town that is interspersed with multi-million dollar residences. One can guess who will win out on the long term occupancy plan. Alberto was explaining what was going to happen next.

Part of the City - You can see the new Sonangol Building to the left of the SuperBock beer mural. I was there for a meeting in May, and the view is spectacular.

The south side of the city; our office is the building on the right - we live in the far distance past that last peninsula

The low-lands area right by our office... if you look at the Azulejas pictures, they show the Fortaleza from the water, and it gives a good idea of what the beachfront used to look like

The Ilha on the left you can see a hotel that has been abandoned for some time - Paul's dad stayed there once upon a time... Club Navale is where the boats are (go figure)

Since it was a holiday, there were several groups of kids running around, so I caught a few pictures of them. They must have been from either a private school or an orphanage, but their spirit was of pure joy and amusement as they literally ran from place to place in this giant fortress. What a playground.

Cabo Ledo Beach - Updated with Pictures!

As you may have noticed, trash is a considerable problem in Luanda. There is garbage everywhere. When it rains, it floats down from the hills into the ocean, which bolsters the already-litter-laden coastline. When the tide is high, garbage floats in the tiny bay near our office, having picked it up from the edges of the shore on which it rests while the tide is low.

There are some campaigns stating Lixo no Chao, Nao! Which translates to trash on the ground, no! But daily, we witness the average Luandan, tossing whatever is in their hand on the ground beside them. Even though receptacles are near by, they aren't what I would call diligently used.

So this doesn't really make swimming all that appealing, let alone a day at the beach. This, along with the fact that the only thing close to a beach, the Ilha, has become a bit of a poaching ground for ex-pats by armed thieves, so we aren't going there.

Enter Cabo Ledo.... Down the coast, south about 120 kms, lays a pristine beach, with a few miles of sandy beach, no rocks in the ocean, clear water, and little shaded areas that are manned by a local gang of guys making a buck on parking and shade.

We left our home at 7:30, as a caravan of six cars, and we arrived around 10:00. We drove down to the Cuanza River, past the golf course, Mangais, and then paid the toll to cross the bridge to the next province.

The Imbondeiro or Baobob Tree - these trees have huge trunks, and I think they are the national tree of Angola. Certainly famous in Malongo at Trig's Place.

The sun was coming up over the water when Paul caught this picture as we drove down the coast.

I talked about the road down the Cuanza before - it is a fantastic road with curves and hills, and I wish I had a road bike with no traffic - what a great ride.

More road - we all have little SUVs - ours is brown, but looks just like this one in front of us - we were quite the little caravan with six vehicles going down the road.

This is a typical store front where someone sells a few cans of pop, etc. by the afternoon when we returned, that place was bumpin'

Here are a few rapazes just hanging out with their motos right before the toll bridge to the other side of the Cuanza. the Sonangol logo is right above the Castrol sign. Note the size of the Imbondeiro!

 Right before the bridge is one of the lasting signs that there was a war here just a few years ago. A rusted out tank, no larger than a mid-sized SUV was stuck in the mud at the bank of the river, by the bridge deck. That is the closest the war came to Luanda. But its effects are notable across the country, I hear.

So onward to Cabo Ledo. The ocean is walled by sea cliffs in most cases, but about 45 minutes after the Cuanza, we turn off to see a low plane with a beautiful beach. We drive down, the dirt road, and suddenly the drivers start to almost rally, very subtly getting in front of each other, choosing different paths on the dirt road to navigate, and as I make the comment aloud to note the scenario, Emiquilson responds, sort of chuckling - "sim, rrrally." The international word for off road racing is confirmed.

Paul is bummed that he had the wrong lens on the camera, but you still get to see the idea. This thing was fixed on the north side of the river facing south. Just in case someone crossed the Cuanza, I guess.

The river itself is quite wide and has about 100 meters of  jungle that runs right up to it - I'm sure it's thicker than this in less populated areas - Emiquilson said"there are beijos in there" he  then referenced cobras, macacas (monkeys), crocodiles, mambas, etc. That qualifies as "beasts in the forest" to me.

Right after the jungle, there was a mile or two of open plane - and a sandy marsh area where we saw a few flamingoes - but they weren't pink - I guess they hadn't included camaraons (shrimp) in their daily regimen. From here we are about 40 minutes to the beach.

Rrrrrrrallly. 

This is a good view of our caravan and the first view we have of the beach - the drivers like going to Cabo Ledo because close by there is a restaurant that serves really good "funge" which is like gelatinous grits - made with either corn or cassava, which is powdered up and then cooked into the funge.

We set up under one of the little shaded areas - made of sticks and sea grass, and go to explore the ocean, which apparently is cold right now, but feels great. Some people are surfing on some beginner waves, some others went around the corner of the coast line to seek bigger surfs.

I notice that there are mussel shells on the beach, and start to wonder where I might be able to find some. Look no further, there is a guy sitting with a bucket between his legs, cleaning mussels. How much? $20 for the full 5-gallon bucket. That is a lot of mussels - so we split the purchase among three families and bring them home. They were quite good - had a little bit more beard that I would like, but good, none the less.

Paul and I walked down the coastline for some time, And on some of the cliff rocks, where the tide must have risen to, were thousands of mussels, not all ready, by any means, but it was clear that there was a readily available stash nice and close, which reinforced my confidence that the mussels we purchased were good.

The clouds burned off within 10 to 20 minutes of us arriving

A little marsh before the beach - reminded me of Crescent - obviously, when the tides are high this gets some water in it.

The beach stretches around the rock for another mile or so - apparently there are some restaurants down there, but they aren't winning awards for food quality. I'll stick to my mussels.

We set up a chair and snagged a bit of shade - you can see how rustic the cover is, but it's well-maintained by the parking lot/shade gang.

These are the rocks in the other direction - we walked around to find all sorts of surfers catching larger waves and I saw where my mussels came from.

Full view.... we are set up behind the rocks on the right about 200 meters farther

All mussels on that rock - with a bit of seaweed, which also looked appetizing. I'm weird.

Paul had to pretend he was taking pictures of all sorts of things to make it look like he wasn't the creepy guy taking pictures of little kids.  Thiis super cute kiddo was running all over the place. 

Later in the day when I went in the water, I noticed it wasn't very smooth... the reason being that a school of fish was just hanging out in waist deep water, about five to ten meters from shore, relatively unafraid of the humans hanging around with them. They would jump up, sometimes float an eye to the surface to see what was going on. Large waves would come in, but they never crashed into me with them, so they obviously had some method for staying just out of reach.

At least out of our reach... within 20 minutes of seeing the fish, on the horizon, about 200 meters out, we saw a pack of dolphins swimming, jumping, and bobbing through the bay, making a splash, and probably finding a fish or two to munch on along the way. Not a bad way to end the day.

As we left, the gang of boys hit everyone up for the shade and the parking. The shade, for over a dozen people, was about $3 a head, and the parking was $3 per car. Some people are more receptive than others to pay. Oddly, when one of the boys asked if I already bought the mussels, and I said yes, he let me go, and wasn't bothering us at all for parking. Maybe mussels include free parking.

We drove back, we continued to notice the amount of trash around the inhabited areas. Cabo Ledo is far enough that most Luandans, and Angolans, don't have an interest in going, and it is pristine. We speculated whether it would remain that way if more local people populated it. We would hope so... just as we said that, the car in front of us tossed a couple cans out on the road... that might be a long journey.

I came home, heated up some garlic, tomatoes, red pepper flakes and parsley in butter and olive oil, added some white wine, and steamed up some mussels for an early dinner.... Delicious.

Made In China?

We have been searching for a reasonably priced garbage can for the kitchen since we arrived. I'm fine with roughing it for a few months until our shipment comes and hanging a Hefty sac on a hook, but Paul is too refined for this.

So we took the default route of looking in every store we know, only to find an average quality can for the equivalent of $90; Luanda is the most expensive city to live in for a reason.

Anyway, yesterday as we were driving south to visit our family friends' home that the are building in Benfica (Benfica means good stay), we noted that there were garbage cans for sale on one of the market roads (main roads where young entrepreneurs are selling one or two goods they bought wholesale - see the post on "Inventory of Stuff for Sale on the Road Home Today).

So on the way back we asked Emiquilson to pull over to ask about the cans. He had already coached us on the fact that they would go for the high price because we are "estrangeiros," so this was more just a reconnaissance trip. We would send Emiquilson back for one later if we liked it.

We pull over on the opposite side of where the cans are are for sale, and we proceed to point at our wholesale area of choice - trash bins. A pack of young guys come over to see what we want.... Paul requests a specific can in the diverse lineup. They return with the can of choice, and a second model, and our dialog begins... Paul leads in his Portugnole (half Portuguese, half Spanish)...asking how much? is it good quality? and then asks "is it made in China?"

Paul, eyeing the flimsy plastic can: "How much?"
Salesman extraordinaire "$70"
P:"70!? That's expensive!"
SE (with a support crew of 3 backing him: "it's good quality." - it is clearly not good quality....FYI...
P: " but $70... That's too much! I want the Angolan price..." Emiquilson snickers a little...Then, in English, imitating Cartman from South Park so that I'm the next one cracking up... "You're bustin' my balls here"... Back to Portungnole "I can't go that high"
SE "but it's worth it.."
Then the kicker......
P: "Is it made in China? I only want a garbage can that is made in Angola..." (of which there are none)
SE: "No, this isn't made in China... Look! " Salesman Extraordinaire flips the can to show the bottom, traces his finger across the "Made in" stamp, which is reading upside down, and which finishes with....China.

At this point, Emiquilson and I who have both been relatively non-participant but still enjoying Paul exploring his negotiation skills, start laughing.... In fact, cracking up, as is Paul. And we obviously are all seeing the irony and humour in the upside-down Made in China sign, that this sly salesman is trying to swing on us as Angolan (beyond the fact that the can itself had Chinese on the front of it probably saying "thank-you for not littering")

Whether the guy selling the stuff could read English or read at all was not as disappointing as the fact that once we left, Emiquilson confirmed that everything for sale comes from China...there is a strong Chinese presence here, and while it may be good in some ways, it is likely paralyzing the ability for a local economy to take off... But this is only one of many factors.

Anyway, we say it's too much and maybe next time, and the three of us continue home cracking up in our best Portuguese with Emiquilson at how funny the whole scene was.

And the quest for the Angolan garbage can continues....

Friday Cruise in the Kawisiki

There are several Chinese-manufactured "Kawisiki's" here in Luanda, but this was the first Party Wagon we had seen. These "rapazes" were cruisin'' with tunes blaring, Cucas cracked and shouting what I'm certain was no less than "sweet nothings" to the young ladies walking by.

Ahhhh youth.

We Are In Malongo! Updated with Pictures and Story about Trig's Place.

Hello!

I've put a little story about Trig's place at the end of this post. I'll try and make it its own; I think it warrants it.

Loads of picture have been updated too.

XO all,

K.C.


Malongo is where our operation is, up in Cabinda. Both Paul and I had meetings up here at the same time, so we're both in the IH block in different rooms.

Flying into Cabinda... I'm guessing Paul's dad might recognize this sight

Soccer Stadium in Cabinda. Really a nice piece of architecture, but I wish other fundamentals were a priority.

 We are getting to enjoy the camp a little more because we have a bit of a mission to connect the past with the present. Paul's dad was one of the first in Malongo working for Gulf, and he was significant in the development of the assets here, so it's fun to come here and be where he was, half way across the world.

The camp is a GIGANTIC facility with offices, dorm rooms, recreation facilities, mess halls, a camp store, etc. that houses 1500-plus people. It also has all kinds of nooks and crannies where people enjoy a Heineken or two (max purchase is 4 and only on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays - people quickly become strategic about their consumption.

IH Block (closest) is where I've stayed. This is taken from The Slab.

Several cats are around...  they're pretty harmless, and they don't really solicit the people for anything.

We went by the camp store to pick up some Pringles - something that is not available in Luanda, and that Paul loves tremendously, we also picked up a few Heinekens and went to the smaller mess hall, the Salad Bar, for some grub. Tonight we sat outside on "the Slab" and enjoyed our "take out" BBQ pizzas from the takeaway menu with a beer and the company of a Scot, a Croatian, and Nathan, a co-worker who spends a fair bit of time here.

The Slab is just that, open walled with a roof top, it houses a bar-b-q grille or two and several picnic tables. For decor a few worn out Union Jacks and Red Lion banners, some blue twinkle lights, and some little Japanese lanterns that faded out long ago provide an apropos atmosphere. It's right by the helicopter field, so you can hear them taking off and landing.

Co-workers of Paul each works 28 days on then they are off for 28 days.
Really cool guys (can you tell they are from South Africa?)
We are at the Slab enjoying a lovely meal... .In back is a kitchen and in there is a bunch of beef jerky being cured.
Locked up with a padlock, mind you. People really get creative when they are on a camp for 28 days straight.

The weather is like a warm summer evening after a rainy morning - moist (my hair is curling), but really comfortable. And the sound of the birds, bats, monkeys, and things I don't know about yet, all of which are living in the trees surrounding us are providing a cacophony of background noise.

The Slab is also near the golf course, which is surprisingly large, and which I could see as pretty fun to play - totally great Par 3 action. I have pictures, but no way to load them until I get Internet at home, so I will update when I can.

Now Paul and I are in my room switching though the TV channels, and snacking on salt and vinegar Pringles. I think I'm the luckiest girl in Malongo (that's not saying much, since the camp is 98% male), so maybe... Paul is the luckiest GUY in Malongo instead!

Boa Noite !

At The Slab with a bunch of folks - most are from South Africa. We had a stew made from oxtail. Delicious. Too bad I'm responsible for the catering contract and already tested out the cafeteria that night. Food baby (probably twins).

Monkeying around at The Slab - hole number four of the 9-hole golf course
right behind. This last time I was there, two Caos de Mata were on the
course at twilight - they look just like foxes. 

Fourth Hole of the Golf Course, processing plant in behind.

Paul and I working hard. We have an intern for the summer.

The view from the top of the hill, where the camp is. In the evening people walk down the hill and back up for exercise. Those black dots in the field are the equivalent of deer. Just to give one a little scale.

Flying out of Cabinda.... till next time.

Trig's Place...

When Paul's dad was back in Malongo in the 1980's, he worked with a man named Trig Karlssen. Trig was a creative geologist, who decided that, while on his time off in Malongo (which means Sunday after 12:00 pm), he wanted to live the beach life. So he collected wood from the pallets that brought in all the consumables that the camp required, along with anything that drifted ashore, and over the course of several hitches, he created the Malongo Beach Club. He chose a spot under the big Imbondeiro tree for a little shade, which was a fair distance from the terminal, but still within the gates of camp.

In addition to a wood shack made from pallets and driftwood, two Volkswagen bus seats served as lounge chairs. I will do my best to post that shot of Trig with Jose Lopes, Paul's borrowed uncle. Chilling out enjoying the Sunday afternoon life of Malongo.

Years later, the company decided to formalize the location to make sure it was safe and secure. Stairs were built, slabs were poured, etc. Below are some pictures from Trig's today - you'll see a picture with two guys sitting under the shade of a palm frond umbrella. It's uncannily similar to the picture Paul's dad took. The two had just finished skim boarding in the waves after work. Their coveralls, steel-toed boots, and hard hats in a pile in the corner. Cool.

The Imbondeiro tree at Trig's Place. (Baobob tree to some).
 This tree is the origin of the logo for the Malongo Camp

Trig's Place - Paul's dad knew Trig - an eternal bachelor who lives on Vancouver Island (the world is small).

Sunset on the Atlantic 

Imbondeiro again - really such a beautiful tree!

The north side of the beach from Trig's. Our terminal in the background.

Paul's Dad has a picture like this of the original Trig's Place... I'll see if I can find it.

I've heard so much about Malongo and Trig's place from
Larry, Paul's dad, and it was really fun to be there. Who knew?

Paul soaking it in