It is always sad to leave a place to which one knows one will never return. Such are the melancolies du voyage: perhaps they are one of the most rewarding things about traveling. - Gustave Flauber

20 July 2019, Nyanga to Ngongo, 49.78km
Auberge 3,000CFA (R75)

Our last day in the Republic of Congo began with a spaghetti breakfast, cooked by a young man neat in a forest green apron. We were pleased thereafter to finally find a new shirt for Charl; the one in which he has been cycling has literally been disintegrating in the sun. All shirts we have looked at until today have been too small for him; this one fitted just fine. The seller has a stall on Nyanga’s main intersection and sells predominantly second-hand children’s clothing, but also blackened coiled dried fish, displayed without cover on a shelf in the dust, and some adult clothing, including a peach shirt of reasonable size. She asked us for 5; we assumed 5,000CFA, and handed it over, but she meant 500CFA and gave us back change.
Next I approached an old man selling oranges on the sidewalk. He had four neatly stacked and one or two others lying loose, but I wanted two only and separated these from the others. The clothes saleslady joined us and turned one of the oranges over to show me it was rotten underneath, as was my other choice. She then picked two marginally better oranges and pointed to a 50CFA coin, which clearly was less than the old man hoped for. It was obvious he was virtually indigent, so I paid him 100CFA and took away my less-than-perfect oranges.
Shortly outside town we saw a man in distinctive white, walking the road with a loudhailer in his hand; whatever service he was selling was hard work with long stretches to walk between villages.
Children had specific requests in today’s villages, calling for balls or Bic pens. It seemed so illogical to think we were carrying balls on the bikes, that I became irritated about the over-the-top yelling. I took to shaking a finger at the calling groups and saying “Non”, then greeting instead with a smile. Four young men walking a rural stretch asked me for a “ballon” or a “téléphone”, then changed tactics when Charl reached them, indicating instead that they were hungry.
We were pleased to find a basic auberge in the small border town of Ngongo. Before checking into our room, we took our host’s advice and paid a visit to immigration to complete the formalities in preparation for our border crossing tomorrow. On the friendly official’s desk was a 2014 diary and a lot of dust, but he completed the forms by hand, including incomprehensibly our parents’ names (what possible purpose can recording the names of the dead serve?). There was dried fish on the immigration office roof, attracting a gazillion flies.
We knew from iOverlander that there was no restaurant in town, so shopped this morning in Nyanga for spaghetti and a tin of cassoulet. We were watched while we cooked and asked why we did not break the spaghetti, bending it once hot instead. Not only did humans keep an eye on our actions, but a small and unhappy chimp tied undercover nearby. He began to fuss, asking for the empty tin, which a young woman took over to him, but we called her back pointing out that the edges were jagged and would cut him. Instead, Charl dished some of our food into a safe container and when it had cooled, it was fed to him. A friend later proposed that she report him to ApeAction, which might effect a rescue, which we assisted her to do.

Punctures 2
Bribes paid 0 (zero requested)
Cycle tourers met 0
Total kms 452.6

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

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