No man is brave that has never walked a hundred miles. If you want to know the truth of who you are, walk until not a person knows your name. Travel is the great leveler, the great teacher, bitter as medicine, crueler than mirror-glass. A long stretch of road will teach you more about yourself than a hundred years of quiet. - Patrick Rothfuss

19 June 2019, Luanda to Panguila, 45km
Hospedaria Kilombo & Filhos 5,000Kz (R223)

After nine nights at Chez Amelia in Maianga, Luanda, this morning we got back on the bikes headed north. First we paid a visit to a bike shop near the port where the helpful staff at Gicate fitted an odometre to my bike, a replacement of sorts for our stolen Garmin. It won’t be able to direct us anywhere, but at least we will know how many kms we have travelled, and at what speed.
We cycled a curved section of the promenade that fronts the bay, a well-kept stretch for walking, cycling, basketball, or just sitting and contemplating the water. We had a quick breakfast, then persuaded the guards to let us cycle through the port instead of the more difficult section of the EN100 that runs beside it. Once we left the port, we found ourselves cycling against the traffic which runs south, separated from the northbound lanes by the railway line. We took here to the narrow sidewalk, grateful for the forbearance of the populace who made space for us without complaint. At last we came to a road beneath the railway line, and made our way to the northbound EN100, able then to cycle the road.
The EN100 is the main highway through the city and north to Soyo at the mouth of the Congo River. It is a busy stretch of road, perhaps daunting for the uninitiated. North of the city centre, it runs through the poorer suburbs of Luanda, an urban sprawl that spreads as far as the eye can see. It runs through obvious poverty: tin shacks clinging to the hillsides, refuse and sewage in the streets, children at play on rubbish tips, men wheeling charcoal in heavy wheelbarrows constructed of wood, dust everywhere. The ubiquitous blue mini-bus collective taxis are a menace to cyclists unless you understand how they operate and collaborate with them.
Each taxi is operated by a team of two: a driver with extraordinary spatial skills, and a general factotum who hangs out the sliding door window touting for passengers by yelling out the name of the destination. When a potential passenger is spotted, he bangs on the door for the driver to stop, opens the door, jumps out to allow the passenger access, places any luggage in the space behind the last row of seats, jumps back in, bangs a message to the driver, takes the money, yells the destination… Obviously it is in the interests of the team to fill the taxi to capacity and deliver the passengers safely and speedily to their preferred location. Although taxis operate fixed routes, they can and do stop anywhere along the route. One additional and important role played by the factotum is to warn autocycle drivers (and cyclists) that the taxi is about to pull over to the sidewalk, or pull out from it. We have learned to slow our pace to allow the taxis to fulfil the needs of their passengers, and in return both driver and partner keep an eye open for us…
Although we travelled predominantly through urban sprawl, we were conscious of passing out of Luanda proper and into another town, and stopped there at the Shoprite to shop for fresh apples and Oros cordial, and have lunch at the Hungry Lion / Debonairs Pizza next door. Then onward, on a road marginally quieter, to Panguila on its lake. A long row of restaurants near the lake awaited clients, any clients…
We settled into the Hospedaria Kilombo & Filhos with its frighteningly dirty mattress and loo smelling of urine, and ate dry pork at a nearby restaurant…

For today's route see below photos
For overview route, click on ROUTE tab above…