An adventure in itself - getting to Dzanga-Sanga National Park

M'Poko International Airport, Bangui

I was flying in from the highlands of Ethiopia to the Congo Basin of Africa so it was time to pack up the warm clothing and bring out the jungle clothes. I did have a bit of anxiety as the plane landed in Bangui since I hadn’t been in a French speaking country in a while and all the research on the web pointed to a country that is very difficult to travel about independently with no organized public transport system. The best advice I had read was to head to a place called as PK 9 (Peke neuf) on the outskirts of the city from where I should be able to flag some form of transport or hitchhike out of Bangui.

Note the generator under me

Luckily, I shared my taxi from the airport with a person who spoke decent English and was very helpful. Upon knowing that I needed to exchange my US dollars he connected me to a Senegalese money exchanger. I had to take a chance with the black market as I had arrived in Bangui outside of the banking hours and did not want to stay in the capital overnight. Seeing the impressive exchange rate on offer I got a fair bit of my USD changed to Central African CFA. I was also cognizant of the fact that I was heading to a remote part of the country and the exchange rate would only get worse from here on.

The driver's assistant working on a breakdown

First impression of Bangui…well, I wasn’t expecting much but it was still a culture shock. For someone who lives and works in Liberia it shouldn’t have come off so, but Monrovia seemed more developed than Bangui. The city is very chaotic with limited asphalt roads which made for a dusty ride to PK 9. Since the flight was delayed it was already dusk by the time I got there but I was determined not to spend a night in Bangui. CAR is a conflict zone and although Bangui has recovered from the sectarian war from 2014 there is still a large UN contingent. The heavy UN and NGO presence in Bangui means that accommodations aren’t at value.

The crew i rode on "that" pickup for 8 hours

At PK 9 I encountered my first checkpoint (there were several more over the next 8-9 days). All checkpoints across CAR are shared by the police, gendarmerie (military) and forest officials with each having a seat at the post. In I go with my passport and sure enough I am expected to pay a bribe. They look at the passport, make a few notes, lean back and coolly ask for “deux mille francs” (roughly $3.5), sometimes even more…and then the game begins.

This was a tricky situation for me as didn’t want to pay bribes but needed to rely on these same folks to help me get a ride out of Bangui. It took a solid 20 minutes of convincing them (nicely) that I am a traveler in a country that doesn’t have very many visitors and most of my spend in the country will go directly into the local community. Eventually they relented and offered to help me get a ride. A further 40 minutes later they put me on a pickup truck with 17 other folks and a bunch of other stuff I later found out was a band’s musical equipment! This was going to be my best bet that night so I took the option of scrambling on the pickup.

The police chief and his woven bed

Since I was a novelty I got a special seat on the pickup. Space was made on a generator that was placed on the tailgate of the pickup! Atleast I had a seat on something that was sort of flat rather than some who were sitting on the top of the pickup cabin and a fellow who was sitting on a crate of beer bottles. Can’t imagine that being very comfortable but for the locals that seemed to not bother them one bit.

By the time we set out it was already 8pm and my drop off was to the next town of Mbaiki roughly 110 kms away. The road was asphalt - one of only three in the entire country leading out of Bangui, but it was still going to take between 4-5 hours to get to Mbaiki. Since I had just arrived from Ethiopia my body clock was already past 10pm and the stopover in Nairobi didn’t help with fatigue. I could not however doze off for even a little bit.  If I did I could slide straight off the generator and onto the road with my face down. The railing on the generator gave me something to hold on to but it wasn’t much help when we hit a pothole. The locals sitting beside me were holding on to me and pulling me back each time we hit a pothole just as it seemed as though I was going to either slide or bump out of the vehicle.

Police (Didier), Gendarmerie (eric) and forest official

It certainly wasn’t the safest way to travel but atleast I was moving…but that was until the vehicle broke down and the driver’s assistant got down with his tool box and started working on it. He was at it for next few hours, meanwhile I was so tired I couldn’t help dozing in and out as I sat beside the road.

So here I was in an alien country, tired, sitting cramped on a generator for multiple hours, and with 17 unknown people going someplace through the night. It would be an understatement if I said I was completely out of my elements especially considering that CAR is still a conflict zone. Below is an excerpt from wikitravel’s site on travel to CAR. (https://wikitravel.org/en/Central_African_Republic)

Bush meat

“WARNING: Most Western governments have issued explicit warnings to not travel to the Central African Republic under any circumstances. Violent crime, such as armed robbery, aggravated battery, and homicide, is extremely common. Large parts of the country are controlled by armed warlord groups who regularly kidnap, injure, and/or kill civilians. In the event of unrest, airport, land border, and road closures may occur with little or no notice. Consular services are often either extremely limited or non-existent. In short, stay away, and if you have no choice be sure to exercise war zone safety. (28 May 2018)

Government travel advisories: Australia • Canada • Ireland • New Zealand • United Kingdom • United States

I am however, a firm believer that people and generally good…its just the circumstance and mental conditions that leads to bad actions. Someday, maybe I will pay for it but so far, its worked out well for me and it did the same this time as well. The locals I was traveling were genuinely helpful even if we couldn’t communicate a word.

Helping a Gendarmerie vehcile that was stuck

The ride wasn’t the safest or the most comfortable but it was an unbelievably beautiful setting making it easy to distract my discomfort. A full moon with no artificial light for miles in sight. The trees, the bush and the occasional huts of the scant rural population was glistened in the moonlight throughout the journey. Sometimes…I think these are the moments that stick in memory long after the adventures are over.

Note the sandy soil...making for treacherous road conditions even in dry conditions 

A 4 to 5-hour journey turned into 8 hours due to the breakdown but we finally reached Mbaiki at around 3am greeted by an empty and eerily quiet town. The band crew I was traveling with felt they needed a rest as well so we camped out in the front porch of a bar. I was offered a spot on a straw mat along with the band leader and his two dancing ladies while the rest of the crew managed to sleep wherever they could…chairs, tables or whatnot.

A few hours later as the sun broke through, I was woken up and dropped off at the Mbaiki checkpoint. The crew was heading in a different direction so it was time to say good bye to them and continue my journey. Seeing how tired I looked the police chief at the checkpoint suggested I take rest on his woven bed right beside the checkpoint and told me he would wake me up when he found a vehicle going in the direction I was going.

I woke up a few hours later and the police chief was still looking. Eventually he decided that it was best I take a motorcycle ride to the next town rather than waiting because there was no guarantee there could be anything passing by that day. He arranged for a moto-taxi and sent me off to the next town (Boda) which was a further 3 hours away including the mandatory bribe collecting checkpoints along the way.

Made it to Dzanga-Sanga NP

Buda was a good spot for me to eat some grilled meat and stock up on some bottled water. Two hours later and I was still unsuccessful in making any headway out of Boda as I couldn’t find a single vehicle going in the direction I wanted to go. Things looked bleak but just then I saw a vehicle pass by and I ran behind it waving my hand more in desperation than hope. To my pleasant surprise they stopped, reversed and allowed me to hitchhike with them. Not only did I secure a ride then but it was a swanky Landcruiser with AC and nice African music. Don’t know who the chief was but from what I gathered, he was somehow associated to the gendarmerie as at all checkpoints thereafter he was treated with respect.

What do you do when you are hungry and
you are served monkey meat???

As glad as I was to hitch a ride with them and not have to get down at checkpoints to show my passport, it was a painful realization to see that the rich and powerful pass through the checkpoints without being harassed or having to pay bribes but the common man, especially the motor-taxi drivers and their passengers must fork up monies conveniently called as “formality”. It’s a way of life for them I suppose…sort of a tax but in a crooked way, the poor are taxed.

The next seven hours we drove through dense forest cover and the occasional hamlet selling bush meat to finally make it to the hamlet of Yamandu. That part of the road was in a very bad condition with several patches of sandy soil and slick deep mud. I was thankful for having crossed that stretch of my journey in a good vehicle.

The chief’s assistant was gracious enough to arrange accommodation for that night and a motorbike for the next day before heading on their way to Berberati. The accommodation was very modest but I made sure I had clean bed sheets and a mosquito net. If I am not sleeping on my sleeping bag then the most important thing I look for is clean bed spread.

Finally a nice bed at Doli Lodge

The next morning the motorcycle guys came to pick me up and since the assistant had already negotiated the price the night before I didn’t need to haggle with them. The only problem was that it was three of us on one motorbike along with their day packs and my backpack. Five hours, a flat tire, more checkpoints and a tired body and we finally arrived in the town of Bayanga.

For the extra cost of a tire tube and the hassle of waiting for me at the checkpoints as I negotiated my way down or out of bribes I gave them a tip of 1,000 CFA’s (less than $2) and they gleefully accepted and dropped me off at the Doli Lodge, whose management was recently transferred over to WWF.

Doli Lodge on the Sanga river

Bayanga and the Doli lodge were going to be my base for the next few days for all following excursions into the Dzanga-Sanga National Park. Now, I only needed to arrange for the transport and guide for the next few days with the park authority but I was finally here!