The next morning everything is covered in dew and we have lots of visitors lapping it up! Fortunately, no mosquitos here.
Shortly after resuming our ride, we pass the main gate to Odzala, and more police checks. Progress is smooth- they’re still setting up shop. The air is deliciously cool so early in the morning.
This gives some idea of the density of the bush here…
…fed by all that natural water.
By the time we stop for coffee at an MTN cell tower, Ouesso is only half an hour away.
As we get closer to the town, we note palm trees on either side of the road. Only later do we learn that they are not indigenous, but were planted here by ATAMA Plantations for the establishment of a palm oil industry that should have generated thousands of jobs.
In reality they appear to have been used as a smokescreen for the illegal harvesting of timber instead.
Rusting earthmoving machinery is parked in a deserted compound on the outskirts of the town and the bungalows are boarded up. Probably leftovers from ATAMA’s forestry operations, as the Chinese would have used their own blue trucks instead of Caterpillars for the road construction. Whoever the owners may be, there’s a few million Rands worth of machinery getting covered by weeds here.
At the turnoff to Sembé there’s another police checkpoint, but after making a show of checking our documents we’re allowed to move on. There's a Total filling station on Ouesso's main street, but we carry on to look for money first- we're
platsak!
A welcome sight greets our eyes within a stone’s throw from the pumps- an Ecobank with an ATM booth outside. It’s hot out in the street, but the booth is air-conditioned! We take our time inside, enjoying the cool air, until a teller comes to check if we’re OK.
We’re close to our destination for the day, but from here our maps are sketchy, and T4A is lost. We need to get to the Wildlife Conservation Society’s (WCS) camp at
Bomassa, supposedly only 100km further. I have a GPS coordinate, but there are no road signs around here. We call up our contact, Zanné, who is the media consultant for their Congo programme.
She’s South African, and really organised: she sends us a map via WhatsApp and then patiently explains the route that we have to take through the forest roads. Their camp is on the edge of the Nouabale-Ndoki National Park, and they can provide accommodation.
Encouraged, we stock up on cash and splash out for our lunch at the shops down the street. They even have yoghurt! Then it’s back up the road for fuel before coasting downhill to the Sangha River. Another biggie.
It turns out that we need to go through Customs first, even though the opposite side is still part of the Congo Republic (and the same province). Their office is up the hill overlooking the ferry operation, and our passport numbers are copied into a book. There’s no stamping and no payment is required.
Back at the ferry point, we get directed to the front of the ferry, next to a police Land Cruiser. The cops are friendly enough, and don’t mind my camera (I've become rather
katvoet after the experience in Brazzaville). An entire horse and trailer, as well as a truck and some pedestrians follow us on board. A young fellow comes round to collect the transit fee: it's CFA 5000 per bike (R250 for both).
The Sangha River forms the border between Cameroon and the Congo north of Ouesso, and between the Central African Republic (CAR) and Cameroon north of Bomassa. From Ouesso it flows southeast, to join up with the Congo River some 400 km south of here. Infrastructure is a problem in the Congo: there’s no bridge here, even though it’s a major thoroughfare to Yaoundé, the capital of the CAR, 500km to the north.
Due to the state of the roads, most goods are transported along the rivers in
pirogues. The only railway line in the country runs from Brazzaville to Pointe Noire in the south.
As soon as the ferry is loaded up, a tug pulls up alongside to nudge us across the current. It doesn't take long and, being at the front, we get off first.
We ride up the embankment to take in the new surroundings. It’s a forest, with a decently graded road straight ahead. It seems like a good idea to get a move on while the track is clear, but the Police bakkie soon roars past in a cloud of dust.
We reach Pokola 40 km later, where we have to turn off to enter the forest reserve. The police manning the boom are quite friendly, even giving us a bottle of very welcome water. Customs across the road is less affable, and they want another tithe (CFA 5000 per bike) before we may enter.
And so we are let into a concession of 1.4 million hectares of rainforest, the proverbial Lungs of the Earth. It is operated by CIB (
Congolaise Industrielle des Bois), a wholly owned subsidiary of Olam International (Singaporean, not Chinese!), a global food and agricultural business. For sustainable logging, trees apparently get felled selectively here instead of clearing large swathes.
We take the first turn easily enough, but two wrong attempts take a while before it’s obvious that we are not converging towards our waypoint. The logging company operating here has actually done a great job of maintaining the roads and we gain confidence as the canopy flits by.
This forest covers a vast area, comparable in size to the Odzala reserve. Kabo, the next village, is the best part of 100 km from where we entered in Pokola. It's enjoyable riding, although you have to watch out for the camber and the damp patches.
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-5OQtckoEc[/youtube]
There’s a T-junction, with the village (and port) to the left and the road…er track, to Bomassa to the right. Unaware of Kabo’s importance, we turn right. It starts well enough and we pause for a drink.
A few km further the road climbs and is heavily eroded. A local man on a Chinese bike stops to warn us that the track ahead is
dangereuse. Fortunately it’s dry, but I can see that this won’t be so easy after some rain (no time for pics here). Progress slows down a lot but finally we reach the home stretch and turn into Bomassa.
Which is actually just a small village; some kids direct us around the corner to the WCS camp.
The sun is setting over the Sangha river when we finally pull into the camp. We find Zanné enjoying a sundowner over by the river and she introduces us to Emma, who has come over to visit from the WCS law enforcement office in Ouesso.
We’d originally opted to stay over at the village, but the temptation of a clean room, hot shower and cold beer is too much. We fetch our luggage, plop down next to Emma and unwind. Cheers!
The WCS camp lies between the forest reserve and the edge of the Nouabalé-Ndoki National Park; it’s used as a base by the WCS staff, park rangers and various researchers. They’re an eclectic bunch and arrive in dribs and drabs as the night falls. Most have got a PhD or are working towards one, and this kind of setup is their bread and butter.
We get introduced to all kinds of nationalities: Camilla, who is French and heads the financial department, is here with her husband Rayo, who is Colombian.
The Belgian director of the camp, Eric, is away on business but his wife and children are about. Emma’s just gotten a puppy that keeps the kids entertained. It makes us long for our own dogs back home with the house-sitters!
Terry hails from Arizona and is director of research with a longstanding interest in primates. She’s also managing the Elephant Listening Project (ELP), run by Cornell University, that uses acoustic arrays to track the movement and calls of forest elephants. It’s also used as an anti-poaching tool, as it can detect and locate gunshots.
Merel is Dutch and has come over from Pokola, where her partner (a doctor) works at a hospital run by CIB, the concession holders of the forest we’ve ridden through. They administer vaccinations and contraceptives, provide treatment for malaria and HIV, and also operate a clinic at Kabo.
Zanné’s boyfriend, Forrest (a fresh-faced Welshman), arrives late from the airstrip at Kabo after a surveillance flight over the park in the WCS plane. No poachers today.
It’s all very sociable with the beer flowing freely once a fire is lit. Supper is a buffet of rice and beans, potatoes, cabbage salad, bread and chocolate spread from Cameroon. And some Dutch delicacies from Merel.
It’s a pleasant change from our lonely travels of the last three weeks.
