I spent 5 days in Brazzaville, with at least one of those putting around town on the back of Olivier’s little Chinese motorcycle (there are zillions of these all over Africa) getting supplies and hunting down a new tent. I had my doubts, but amazingly, we found one tent in the entire city, a cheap Coleman number that retails for the low low price of $43.99 on Amazon.com in the US but retails for the outrageously ridiculous price of about $175 in Brazzaville.

I also had my gas tank welded in Brazzaville, as I finally decided that the constant dripping of 95 octane onto my motorcycle boot was probably not a good idea. Like any good welder in Africa, the bush mechanic/welder shop was a tin-roofed shack on a patch of dirt, and my 14-year old welder smoked a Marlboro the whole time he welded using low-quality welding rods and an ancient acetylene welder that was lit via match by another Marlboro-smoking 14-year old without anything remotely approaching safety goggles in sight.

I didn’t do much else in Brazzaville, but I did notice a typical example of African corruption/bureaucracy  exemplified by the street that the Hotel Hippocampe is located on.

There are both traffic lights and street lights on this street - which is truly amazing for an African city.  But on further inspection (i.e. riding down the street) you notice that none of the traffic lights work, nor do any of the street lights.  In fact, according to Olivier, they have never worked, and were never intended to work.

Rather, they were installed for show a few years ago during a presidential visit to the neighborhood by Denis Nguesso, turned on briefly (or possibly not at all - depends on who you ask), and have sat there, rotting ever since.

But if it’s any consolation, I am sure his son’s shopping sprees are all part of his plan for “One person, one Gucci handbag” election campaign, just as his massive hotel bills are part of his “one mini-bar, one nation” economic philosophy.  God forbid we lose sight of that.