Champions Game

Wed 17/7/91

7.03 - We leave for Zaire in two hours. There's civil unrest three, Hawk bombers are being used on civilian population, and we've had innoculations against every disease under the sun and still haven't got everything covered.
John and Martin's chorus of "Leprosy, I'm not half the man I used to be" yesterday evening was not exactly encouraging.
The country's half the size of the USA and has a population of 60 million. Climate is tropical - hot and humid in the lowlands, but cooler in the uplands. 50% of the population are Roman Catholic and there's a high incidence of AIDS.

John's advice is to travel to Zambia then cross into Zaire by bus so as to be less conspicuous. I don't doubt that he knows his stuff about Africa, but his fashion advice is lamentable. He flatly refused to travel with me if I brought any high heels at all.

Thurs 18/7/91

By some miracle all our luggage has arrived in the same airport as us. We had one connection with only five minutes change over time and literally had to run across the tarmac of the airport.
The plane was horribly rickety and I ended up taking a bit too much valium to cope with it. I was very spaced out going through customs. Jane claims I told the customs official that the purpose of our visit was "to see the magic roundabout" but I don't remember that.

We got a taxi to the (non-airconditioned) hotel. The bathrooms are shared and none too clean, but it was good to be able to have a wash of sorts after such a long time travelling.

Fri 19/7/91

We're finally in Zaire. The whiskey and vodka we packed in our luggage at John's advice has all gone. The border guards waved us through with no trouble though, which was, I gather, the general idea.

The bus was even worse than the plane. The windows did open, which was just as well considering that it was not airconditioned either. The driver was clearly a maniac with a deathwish and the mountainous road was full of potholes, where there was a road at all, that is...
John was remarkably cheerful. Something about being glad to escape from his ex wife, I believe, though again I was popping valium and don't have entirely clear memories of the later parts of the journey.

Sun 21/7/91

Drongo is fixing the landrover we bought, apparently by cannibalising various other broken landrovers.

John has been acquiring guns for us. Only he and Jane can actually shoot to any level of accuracy. Got him to teach me to reload their guns so at least I can do something useful if we get into a fight. I'll be carrying a gun, so at least I look a bit dangerous.

Deodorant article for Marie Claire magazine is going quite well so far.

Mon 22/7/91

When even Drongo drives slowly that's an indication that there's something very seriously wrong with the road. We're staying in a dilapidated old colonial hotel with an outside bathroom.
I'm so tired.

Tues 23/7/91

John reckons that Viper may be dodgy arms dealers. Their base is located in an area with good access to three countries currently having serious civil unrest.

Wed 24/7/91

We're about 100 miles off course just now, and £500 lighter in cash.

Earlier today we met three military vehicles travelling in the opposite direction. They pulled us over and asked to see our visas, which we didn't have because we came in from Zambia.
They insisted that we come back to their base, which was a very long and very frightenning drive. Luckily John managed to bribe them into giving us "temporary visas" - not quite drawn in crayon, but close...
Anyway, they let us go, and we're trying to find our way back to the main highway again.

Fri 26/7/91

We've all got dysentry. I seem to have it worst. Just my luck.
Sadly I didn't think to get dysentry cures to review for Marie Claire...

This country is just so appallingly big... We've been driving for five days now and we're about 1/3 of the distance we need to travel. Admittedly the roads are so bad that we're not doing more than 10 mph most of the time.

[later same day]
A truly horrible afternoon.
The less bad bit is that we've acquired a combination of a hitchhiker and guide.A Charles Lumumba from London who appears to be some sort of voodoo witchdoctor (though John tells us we mustn't use that word to him it's 'bokkor' apparently...). He says he came over with an NGO ten years ago and stayed on. He's been getting shot at for the past five years and seems to know how to avoid army checkpoints.

We found some burnt out vehicles beside the road. The people in them had been killed. Charles Lumumba was walking around apparently praying for them and (ick) carving symbols into the bodies. He says they told him their stories (while he was praying, after they were dead) and that they were refugees who were killed by government troops.
It may even be true, I suppose. Lots of strange things have happened lately and I'm not sure what's real and what isn't.

Drongo, Charles and Jane dug a grave for them all. I offered to help but they said I'd get in the way, which is probably fair enough since this dysentery is making me dizzy as well as everything else.

The symbol that Charles Lumumba was carving looked more Central American than African, but he says he's never heard of Miclanticle

Mon 29/7/91

Charles Lumumba left us today.
On a more positive note, my dysentry seems to be getting better at last, thank God.

Tues 30/7/91

We crossed the Equator today. North of the Equator, Zaire has a rainy season, and we're in the middle of it.
I wouldn't have believed it was possible for the roads to get worse, but they have. We slid sideways off the road twice today and Drongo had to haul the truck back up using a winch and tow rope.

It's very humid and still far too warm. Everything is soggy and stinking.

Drongo and John are making crude remarks about wet shirts.

Wed 31/7/91

We stopped at a mining settlement today and John paid about £1000 for a Mining Sector Permit for us. This area has lots of uranium mines and is controlled by a company from Belgium, so Europeans are rare but not unknown, so long as they're connected with mining in some way. I talked to a lot of the miners' wives and the other women in town here. Not surprisingly people tend to die of lung diseases and cancer a lot.

Drongo spent the day fixing the vehicle with a bunch of odd spares he managed to buy here. It's not in a great state, but he reckons it'll keep going for a while yet.
Hope he's right. This is not a place to get stranded.

Martin went to the company office and spoke to the Swiss mercenary who is in charge of security here. He said the Viper are in the area, but that they don't bother the company at all. The company first noticed them a year ago. They have links to all sorts of scary places, and have their headquarters right in the middle of a war zone. They have no obvious agenda. They supply weapons as well as advisors, trainers and mercenaries.
He sold us a map, but it's dated 1960. There havent' been any updates in this area since then.

The Viper headquarters is about 100km away, but there are no roads so it would be a hike through the jungle on foot.

After a couple of hours discussing what to do next we decided that walking into an enemy camp with no obvious escape route would be a bad idea, so we'll head in to Uganda where they have some links with the Uganda Peoples' Democratic Christian Army (LRA) (not a nice bunch at all).

Thurs 1/8/91

The Festival will be starting today back home.
We're on the road to Uganda. Unpleasant insect life, almost non-existent roads, no showers, humidity...

Mon 4/8/91

Another £500 in bribes to get papers to cross in to Uganda this morning. We're in the North, but substantially west of the area where the LRA is operating.
We're driving North to Arua and flying to Kampala from there.
Charles has been telling me about the LRA recruiting child soldiers.
And Martin's been telling me about the high incidence of AIDS here.
Very cheerful stuff, I don't think.

Tues 5/8/91

Arrived in Arua today. Nice not to have to dig our own toilet pits, I suppose.
I'm so much looking forward to getting to Kampala where they will have real hotels at last.

We're lending the vehicle to one of the local NGOs. Drongo and their engineer spent a happy evening in the garage discussing the various modifications that Drongo has done to it.

Wed 6/8/91

We're in a real hotel. With en-suite bathrooms. And a bar.
And they accept credit cards.

Susan Phillips - former fashion and beauty journalist, currently trying to move in to hard news stories (and not just as a way of annoying her ex-boyfriend).
Blonde, 6'2" tall in her stiletto heels and with a tendency to find herself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Bob Fudge (deceased) - cynical serious news reporter, unpopular with some important political figures. Interested in the occult.

Drongo, or, as he is known on more formal occasions, "The Accused", spends his time drinking; modifying, repairing and occasionally riding motorbikes; listening to loud rock music and getting in to fights. He's employed as a technician and bouncer by the news agency and various Fringe shows.
His mother calls him James Bell.

Jane Stuart - paparrazzi photographer, unpopular with many celebrities, has an alcohol problem.

John Huang (deceased) - reporter, known for his integrity, but also, unfortunately, for his belief in UFOs

Charles Reynauld - former reporter of international criminal affairs. Taking a break from chasing Columbian arms dealers in favour of a more peaceful life dealing with Glasgow gang wars.

Martin Farmer - industry and industrial relations journalist.

John Cassidy - anthropoligist, reporter and Renaissance man... Has travelled extensively in the Third World (mainly to avoid university funding authorities and his ex-wife).