Republic of the Congo

Visited: May 2022

Duration of visit: 8 days

Capital city: Brazzaville

Population: 5.5 million (2022)

Estimated reading time: 13 minutes

• Brazzaville – the capital city of Republic of the Congo, located on the bank of Congo River is much smaller and relaxed than Kinshasa.
• Exploring the jungle and gold mines in Dimonika village, while enjoying in the old residence of ex-Belgian regional administrator.
• Pointe Noire on the Atlantic coast. Good place to relax on wide, sandy beaches, swim and taste delicious fish.
• The remarkable scenery of Gorge de Diosso – the only natural highlight that is easily accessible and worth exploring in the whole country.
• A unique check-in and custom control procedure at Pointe Noire airport.

I visited Republic of the Congo combined with DR Congo, Rwanda and Burundi in 2022. I didn’t have much expectations since the country is not a very popular destination and the available information about it is very limited.

The Congo basin rainforest is the second largest rainforest in the world. It is home to over 10,000 species of plants, including mountain gorillas, Bonobo monkeys and it is also home to the famous Pygmy Tribe.

Republic of the Congo must be an excellent place to spot wild animals, but most of the places are either too remote or prohibitively expensive to tour.

It is not easy to move around the country; no accommodation is available off the beaten track and road system does not permit to use public transport. In the rainy season many roads are not transitable at all.

The capital cities of DR Congo and Republic of the Congo (Kinshasa and Brazzaville) are separated only by the powerfully Congo River, which is crossed in 15 minutes by boat. It would have been an easy border crossing in most parts of the world, but not in this part of Africa, where even the simplest procedures convert to a complicated operation. Consequently, the process of crossing the border formalities, waiting and navigating the river took me half a day, paying bribery on both sides, waiting and complying with various unnecessary formalities.

As soon as I arrived to the entrance of the port in Kinshasa, a policeman stopped me, asked for my passport, yellow fever vaccination, Covid-19 test and cash. I gave him some money to buy a ticket and cancel administrative fees, that were apparently not covering custom duty fees where two guys and a strong lady were unconventionally asking me how much money I was carrying.

After some misunderstanding the fat lady said directly:

“Give me one dollar for food!”

And that was it. No more questions or interrogation; everybody was happy when I donated her a dollar. So obvious, almost cultural in Kinshasa!

The policemen backed me up at other checkpoints and guided me to the final waiting point with all kind of people in uniforms, passengers, officials, etc. He asked me for more help and when I offered him a dollar, he gave up insisting for more and left. Yes, at least once, I managed to win over their greediness. After another hour and a half of waiting, my name was called, I got my passport with an exit stamp back and boarded the boat, that took me to Brazzaville in Republic of the Congo.

After 15 minutes of smooth navigation on the Congo River we docked in Brazzaville port. A group of people that received us, asked for PCR tests, Covid-19 vaccinations, yellow fever certificates, passports and hotel reservations.

Somebody approached me offering guidance services for these confusing procedures through different offices. I had no choice and quietly accepted his proposal.

It went all smooth until the immigration office, where a young lady asked me for a printout of my hotel reservation.

Somehow, a connection with DR Congo mobile phone operator still worked and I managed to provide details in an improvised mobile office to get a print out of my hotel bookings. After I changed US dollars to Central African Franks (CFA), and made a last negotiation for guidance fee, I was finally on the way to my hotel. Yes, at last a decent hotel room, after staying with locals and couch-surfing in Kinshasa. A decent shower, air condition, wi-fi and even a TV with a few French channels.

Brazzaville is a much smaller city than Kinshasa, with less and better organized traffic, where people seem to treat each other more respectfully. I was located in a West African quarter called Poto Poto, with extended market, that seems to be well organized in improvised intersections and managed by expats from Mali, Senegal, Burkina Faso and other West African immigrants who had also imported Islam into the Catholic predominant Republic of the Congo.

The most outstanding architectural pieces of Brazzaville are: Nabemba Tower and the bridge called Pont du Djoué, which is especially beautiful when lit at night.

I walked along all the Corniche, where a modern road on the bank of Congo River attracts walkers and runners, mostly in the evening or at night, when the heat and humidity lose power. It is a nice stroll, without hassle, very little traffic, but also lack of street vendors or small stands, where an ice cream or a drink could be a good business opportunity.

Basilique Sainte Anne du Congo is a minor, but emblematic basilica in downtown Brazzaville. Dazzling green roof and carved copper doors are the most outstanding features of design made by French architect Roger Erell, who was known for fusing Western architectural ideas with local building techniques.

It was an innovative building in 1943, but later damaged during the civil wars of the 1990s. The Basilica was afterwards renovated and inaugurated in March 2011 by the President of the Republic, highlighting the importance of the basilica to Congo and Central Africa.

I crossed the bridge, took a few photos and returned back to the hotel by taxi. Green old Toyotas seem to resist age and harsh weather conditions. They travel with limited illumination at night or during heavy rainstorms, which can drastically reduce visibility and unpredictably finish a ride in a hole in the middle of a street. Just after returning to my hotel, a tropical thunderstorm started. I am used to them from Panama, but this one was so strong that even the next morning most of the streets were flooded with water.

The number of international projects in Brazzaville is significantly lower than that in neighboring DRC capital, Kinshasa, resulting in a smaller expat community.

I met an American, a Chilean and a Frenchman, who introduced me into Brazza nightlife. Visiting restaurants, bars and a kind of dancing club was over at 11:00pm on a Friday night. Even in the most famous neighborhood for partying, Bokongo, the majority of Congolese run out of money or energy too early.

The main reason is that they start drinking, eating and partying in the afternoon, even before the work is finished. Unfortunately, I wasn’t lucky enough to meet the famous saphrons, an exclusive community of locals that are rather poor, but dress up in extremely expensive clothes of prestige brand names such as Versace, Dior or Armani.

The Congo River seem to be a fairly calm river, but there are places where the strength is visible in a way of rapids – Les Rapids. Nice view to the chocolate river, with fishermen throwing their nets, brave young men swimming into the strong current, women washing clothes and bathing off the shores. A local fish with rice was delicious, with prices much lower than on the other side of the river, in Kinshasa.

Marche Total – central market, offers any products that locals may need. It is (again) much calmer and stress-less than in Kinshasa.

The bus ride from Brazzaville toward the coast was surprisingly comfortable, with a mix of luxury in air condition and basic amenities, while stopping for toilets or snacks. The road N1, connecting the two major cities, Brazzaville and Pointe Noire, was built by the Chinese and it is still in perfect conditions, almost without traffic in any direction.

Even though Congo is famous for possessing the second biggest rainforest in the World, a vast territory we passed through, has been smacked out of any trees and it reminds on a savannah with high grass covering poor land, useless for serious agriculture.

There were two main reasons why the bus stopped during the 6 hours trip, beside picking up and letting off passengers.

• A toilet break in the middle of nowhere, where men were instructed to do their stuff in front of the bus, while women had at their disposal the area behind the bus.
• Shopping breaks, made in small villages, where street sellers approached the bus with all kinds of products: manioc, fruits, drinks, fufu and more. The trade was peaceful, everybody managed to sell something, obviously prices were much lower than in the city.

My stop was in a village of M’Pounga, where I was going to settle down in a small community of Dimonika. I was trying to explain the bus driver’s assistant where I was traveling to, when a woman on the seat next to me mentioned that she was traveling to the same place. She was actually in charge of a residence where I was going to stay for the next two nights.

It was 6 kilometers from the main road, in the middle of a jungle. As soon as we got off the bus, she found a moto-taxi which took both of us uphill on a dirt road to the village. Luckily, it hadn’t been raining much recently. The road was in a decent condition.

Auberge De Vigoureux in Dimonika was my home for the next two days. Located on the top of a hill, overlooking the village, it was built as a residence for a Belgian conqueror, who came to this area in a search for wood and gold over 100 years ago.

He created a community with over 3,000 people, who was dedicated to exploit the surrounding forests and land, creating luxury that people today can only dream off: electricity, portable water, private Olympic swimming pool, tennis and basketball court, brick-made houses of two floors.

During the independence tensions, his property was taken away, he fled the country and the history of the village turned out to be similar to many projects adopted by locals. All facilities were abandoned, destroyed or dysfunctional due to bad maintenance, lack of knowledge and vision by locals.

The village of Dimonika in 2022 is only a shadow of old glory. It has no electricity or portable water, people living in decaying wooden huts, water is brought in buckets from a central fountain, the offer of goods is limited, sport facilities are overgrown by a jungle.

But there are small electricity generators and three bars, playing music late in the night every day of the week. Gold miners work in mines around the village during the day, sell the catch of the day and spend the money drinking or being entertained by hookers all night long.

The administrator building had been transformed into a guesthouse, where I was attended as royalty, being the only visitor in the house. Buffet dinner, walk to the nearby waterfalls and visit to goldmines, were highlights of my day.

It’s incredible how primitive the work of goldminers is. A shovel, water pump, a few tubes and a kind of metal sieve with wooden box underneath, where the gold should be sifted. Sometimes metal detectors are used, but, mostly, the technique of washing with water is applied. They work in groups of 3 to 8; especially when a bigger and deeper hole is being dug, more workers are required.

I bought cigarettes for two groups to get permission to take photos. It didn’t take much time to find the first piece of gold with a metal detector.

A small piece was evaluated to be worth approximately 5.00US$, which would be enough to get a cold beer for every group member tonight.

They continued working, while I walked around the village to compare the abandoned infrastructure built by the Belgian colonizers (brick houses, electricity network, water system, swimming pool, tennis and basketball courts) with modern additions: three bars, wooden barracks, main water center with three pipes for the whole village and high street waiting for better future to come.

Driving back to the main road and catching a shared taxi was easy. I was squeezed with three young ladies in the backseat of a car and, two hours later, arrived in the second biggest city of the Republic of the Congo – Pointe Noire.

The main reason for visiting the city is a sandy beach that spreads on the western side of the country. It is really beautiful at some points. Wide and quite clean for African standards, but it lacks visitors. The waves of the Atlantic Ocean can be impressive, while high-end beachfront restaurants are expensive and consequently mostly empty.

The section where fishermen bring out the daily catch was much calmer, with a simple but delicious restaurant from where I jumped into the sea and swam among manageable waves.

Gorge de Diosso – Grand Canyon of Congo is located on the northern side of Pointe Noire.

Not many taxi drivers knew about it, but somehow, I found one who took me there for a descent price. He didn’t have any idea where the gorge was, so he kept stopping and asking for the directions. At the end, somebody joined us in the car and lead us strait to the viewpoint.

The area is really outstanding from rather boring surroundings: red – brown – orange cliffs end in green forest through which a path continues to the beach.

Instead of walking through the forest, I agreed with the taxi driver to take me to a nice restaurant on the beach, where I enjoyed grilled fish with rice.

If entering the Republic of the Congo was a special experience, exiting it, was a memorable one. There was not a single person at the airport that I’ve got in contact with during check-in and immigration procedures, that didn’t ask me for some help or money directly.

The most honest was a custom officer, asking me to give her money for food.

The winners and the most direct hasslers were the controllers at the x-rays machine, after finding 320.00US$ in my money belt. They wanted it all and kept asking me, if I was their friend or not.

“Of course, I am your friend, but this is my money, that I need for traveling,” I finished giving them all franks that I still possessed and everybody was happy at the end.

The Republic of the Congo is much smaller, less visited and more relaxed than its big brother on the other side of the Congo River, the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Most of the country is still inaccessible, sinfully expensive or difficult to access. People are friendly and willing to help, if you can communicate with them in French.

Prices are reasonable for standard services, international community rather small. If national parks and wild territories could establish decent infrastructure, the first African Marxist state could become a popular tourist destination …. but, I sadly believe it will not happen soon.