Angola – Trackchasing country #92

 

My Angola story. I think it’s one of my best!

I am a storyteller. I like to travel to unusual places. I am about ready to tell you a story about a trip experience that I never could have predicted in advance. As you ride along with me to the African country of Angola, imagine that you were doing what I did. If you can do that, you’re going to be in for a pretty exciting trip.

 

 

Why Angola?

The objective of my trip was simple. I wanted to go to Angola to see an auto race. I know. You might have absolutely no interest whatsoever in auto racing. That’s fine. It’s just that when I go to these faraway places in search of seeing an auto race, so many other things happen that I often forget that it was auto racing that brought me to a place like Angola.

 

 

The travel tells the story.

I told you that I am a storyteller. I will tell you that I am the most laid-back guy that you know. Nothing really phases me. I like to travel, and it is the travel that tells the story. I just repeat things. I repeat the story to you. I’m the middleman. Now, as they are fond of saying in Angola, “less go.”

 

 

I do a lot of research before I take these trips.

I conducted some advanced research using the website racingcalendar.net. That site told me about a race scheduled to take place in Luanda, Angola. Luanda is the capital city of Angola. Up to that point, I didn’t even know they had any racing in Angola. I was pretty excited to get this news.

 

 

Unfortunately, I couldn’t get any information whatsoever about the race itself. I certainly wasn’t going to travel all the way to Angola without some confirmation from somebody who was believable.

 

 

I went on Facebook and contacted about 20 people who had shown some interest, one way or another, in racing in Angola. The responses were almost nonexistent. One guy did respond. He told me he didn’t know the first thing about auto racing, but he knew a woman who might be able to help me. He gave me her WhatsApp number.

 

 

Do you use WhatsApp?

I use WhatsApp every day of my life. If you live in the United States, you might be very comfortable texting other people. For just about anyone who lives outside the U.S., WhatsApp is their preferred texting app. Another benefit of WhatsApp is that you can call or make video calls to people around the world at no charge.

 

 

This all began with a simple single WhatsApp message.

To keep my trip progressing in the right direction, I sent a WhatsApp message to a woman named “Joana.” The official language in Angola is Portuguese because Angola was a former Portuguese colony.

 

 

As luck would have it, Joana spoke only Portuguese and had no English. I don’t speak Portuguese. That would be a bit of a problem, but not a problem that could not be overcome.

 

 

Frosty, not interested?

At first, Joana’s responses to my questions were a little bit frosty. I don’t think she believed that, as an American, I would fly to Angola just to see a car race.

 

 

I’m a sales guy.

I am a likable and gregarious person, if I don’t mind saying so myself. That’s my analysis anyway. I’m a sales guy. To me, no means maybe, and maybe means yes. After a few messages, I think Joana began to trust me. We started to make some progress.

 

 

If she had shown no interest, who would have blamed her? If you live in the U.S. and someone from Angola in Africa contacted you out of the blue and started asking questions, what would your reaction be?

 

 

A very simple, easy trip.

This would be a simple trip, or so I thought. I could fly into Luanda, Angola. The Autodromo Luanda racetrack was only about 10 miles from the airport. I planned to fly in, get a hotel, then take a taxi out to the track, see the race, and maybe only be in Angola for a night or two. It doesn’t get any easier than that. As you might be thinking things didn’t work out that way.

 

 

 

Joana changed everything about my trip…for the better!

Soon, Joana was about to rock my world by explaining that the race would not be in Luanda, the capital city, but in a city some six hours’ drive to the south, Sumbe. Wow!

 

 

A simple trip instantly became much more complicated. This track location change would also make this visit to Angola one of the most enjoyable and adventurous trips I’ve ever made.

 

 

When was the last time you shared 300 messages with someone in a matter of weeks?

Over about six weeks, Joana and I exchanged nearly 300 messages on WhatsApp! I know you think I’m exaggerating. I’m not.

 

 

When she sent me a message in Portuguese, I needed to translate it using Google Translate. When I wanted to send her a message, I wrote it in English and translated it into Portuguese, and then sent it to her. Three hundred messages needed to be translated!

 

 

Can you imagine contacting someone that you’ve never met and, in six weeks, sending nearly 300 messages back and forth when neither of you speaks the other person’s language? Then, would you imagine, based upon those written conversations, arranging a trip to a small, generally undeveloped country on the continent of Africa? Me? I do that kind of stuff, one way or the other, almost every month.

 

 

Please permit me a brief digression.

Might I digress for one paragraph? I run into too many people who tell me they can’t do something, don’t want to do something, or have little interest in doing something. They have one million reasons why something won’t work. I just don’t think that way. If I want to do something, I’m going to figure out how to do it, no matter what obstacles may present themselves. You will find out that this trip had many obstacles.

 

 

Was Joana really Joe?

It is undoubtedly true that “Joana” could have been “Joe,” an Angolan serial killer of Americans. From Joana’s point of view, “Randy” could have been an American predator intent on meeting an international woman with bad intentions. I guess Joana and I were trusting international souls.

 

 

How do you get to Angola?

How would I get to Luanda, Angola, from Southern California? Glad you asked. This entire trip would involve 60 hours of flying and include two more African countries, including Angola, when I was done.

 

 

To begin with, I would fly from Los Angeles to Doha, Qatar. That was a simple 16-hour flight in coach class. I would then have an eight-hour layover in Doha before I grabbed a plane from Doha to Angola with a one-hour layover, and we didn’t get off the aircraft in the Republic of the Congo. It’s almost like flying from Los Angeles to Omaha to Philadelphia, but not the same, right?

 

 

O.K., Randy how did you pay for all of this?

People always like to ask me how I pay for these trips. The flight from LAX to Doha was 16 hours, and the flight from Doha to Angola was another eight hours. That’s quite a bit of flying right there, and that just got me to point A of the trip.

 

 

I used my Alaska Airlines frequent flyer miles, one of the most valuable frequent flyer programs of all. For just 52,000 miles and 72 bucks, I got flights that took me from SoCal to Angola. That’s an absolute steal.

 

 

Doha is a fun place to visit if only on a layover.

I’ve been to Doha, Qatar, about a half a dozen times. Doha is a hub for travel between the United States and Africa and the Middle East. The Doha airport is huge. They probably have as many flights leaving at 3 a.m. as they do at 3 p.m.

 

 

Don’t miss this.

With an eight-hour layover, I had time to visit the most famous attraction in Doha, which is the Souk Waqif. The souk is an ancient “shopping mall” and a huge tourist, attraction. There are many tourists, but it is the locals who make this place so special.

 

 

 

Qatar is an Islamic country, and the vast majority of residents are Sunni Muslims. I love walking through the ancient alleyways. They sell everything from soup to pets. I had a nice dinner there and just watched the people.

 

 

Let’s meet a new face.

I still had a little bit of time before I had to return to the airport. A young man approached and asked if he could give me a tour of the city. I toured the city several times during the day and the night. It was nighttime, and the skyline lights in Doha after dark are magical. I accepted the young man’s offer.

 

 

I would learn that my new guide was from Bangladesh. He had been living in Qatar for seven years. He loved the idea of having his own business, in this case, driving and giving people tours. He made enough money to send funds back to his family in Bangladesh.

 

 

Did you pick your spouse this way?

The young man was 25 years old. I asked him if he was married. He told me he wasn’t, but that his mother and sister were looking for a bride for him. I asked him what he thought about someone else picking his future wife. He told me that it wasn’t a big problem. If he didn’t like their pick, he could say no, and they would keep looking for him! 

 

 

The fellow told me there might be some auto racing in Bangladesh. I asked him to do some research and contact me if there was. I told him that he could be my driver/guide in his home country so maybe you’ll see me writing about a trip to Bangladesh in the future!

 

 

I made it to Angola!

I landed in Luanda, Angola, in the middle of the afternoon. My research told me there was a $60 fee for an airport visa upon arrival, but they never charged me, and soon I was in the country!

 

 

Welcome!

Joana was waiting for me at the airport with a huge sign welcoming me to Angola. She was an attractive, very positive, and smiley person. I would come to find out over the next four days that she was a good planner, a hard worker, and an extremely conscientious person.

 

 

I had picked out a hotel for the first night of my stay in Angola using Expedia.com in advance of my arrival. Angola doesn’t have any Hyatt properties.

 

 

 

Joana and I grabbed a taxi from the airport to my hotel, which turned out to be a Marriott-operated property. Joana picked up the tab, which, unfortunately, would set the tone for our entire trip. Traffic was heavy in Luanda. The roadside scenery told me I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

 

 

Joana had actually visited this hotel several days ago to check things out for me. She took some photos and a video to make sure this would be a good place for me to stay. She told me that during her hotel visit, she really began to believe I was truly coming to Angola. 

 

 

I didn’t ask her to do that. She just wanted to make sure this would be a hotel that fit my needs. That’s about as conscientious as you’re going to find from a person you’ve never met.

 

 

Gifts.

I brought some gifts from Southern California for Joana. One was a Disney Minnie Mouse T-shirt, and the other was a shirt that mentioned Los Angeles, California.

 

 

 

My hotel room was about 50 feet from the front desk. Somehow, Joana ended up in my hotel room to receive her gifts. I’m not exactly sure how that came about, and I don’t recommend it at all, but everything worked out fine. I’ve never seen a person so enthusiastic about receiving the gifts that I provided as Joana. She had also brought a package of gifts for me. My favorite was a card holder for my cash and credit cards.

 

 

Now…the plan.

The plan that Joana and I created in advance of my arrival was for us to rent a car. We would also hire a driver and a translator. Remember, Joana only spoke Portuguese. I didn’t speak Portuguese.

 

 

There was still work to do.

She was having some trouble with the rental car reservations. The car was not reserved when I arrived. We were going to be leaving for Sumbe, where the racetrack was located, the next morning.

 

 

For the next 4-5 hours, Joana and I, as well as our driver, Bama, yes like Obama, and our translator, Ben, tried to work out a rental car deal.

 

 

 

Trying to reserve a car was absolutely more than crazy. We went to one rental car office, and all discussions and negotiations were conducted in Portuguese. Ben, our translator, tried to keep me updated on what was being talked about. Portuguese is a very fast-speaking language. I didn’t understand a single word of what was being said.

 

 

The sticking point seemed to be the rental car insurance. My Chase Sapphire Reserve credit card pays for my primary rental car insurance, but when I travel to off-the-wall places like Angola, I usually just buy full coverage. I think that’s better than trying to negotiate and work through a claim with a credit card company in a place like Angola. That would be beyond difficult. For me, it’s just easier to pay for full insurance in some situations.

 

 

We couldn’t close the rental car deal.

Due to the language barrier, we were never able to obtain confirmation that they would provide full insurance coverage. I didn’t want to rent a $50,000 brand-new SUV, have it wrecked, and be on the hook for paying it off.

 

 

 

We spent five hours at three or four different rental car agencies, including at the airport, trying to confirm this rental car situation. Time was not on our side. We were leaving tomorrow morning.

 

 

At the end of all this, we concluded that we would have one last shot tomorrow morning at getting a rental car. If that didn’t work, we would use Joana’s car.

 

 

 

Back in my hotel room…

We wrapped up our evening with Joana, Bama, and Ben dropping me back at my hotel. Of course, they wanted to see my hotel room. I invited them in. The room was really nothing special. I wish I had had one of those huge Hyatt suites that I frequently get to show them. Nevertheless, they were amazed that the hotel room included so many “free” amenities, such as shampoo, soap, toothbrushes, coffee, etc. I let them take all of the free amenities. You would’ve thought I had given them pure gold.

 

 

 

Saturday.

 

 

This trip was starting.

Bright and early on Saturday morning, Joana, Bama, and Ben showed up, driving Joana’s well-used Toyota RAV4. I would learn that the car was nearly 30 years old, didn’t have air-conditioning, and the tires were bald. No exaggerations with any of this. The daytime high temperature was going to be 90° throughout this entire trip. No air, hot weather, but three fun people all ready for a big road trip. I could go with that!

 

 

 

Who were my new friends?

Joana was 27 (middle), Bama was 30 (left), and Ben (right) was 33. I am older than that. If you are in the same age range as me, please tell me the last time you took a road trip with three youngsters, all about 30. Have you done that recently? Have you even thought about doing something like that?

 

 

Everyone wanted to know how old I was. I asked them to guess. They came up with a range of 51-60. I thought those were excellent guesses!

 

 

We loaded the car with just enough room for my luggage and a little for my friends. Our first stop was at a gas station.

 

 

 

 

This could be a problem.

It was at the gas station that I learned that none of my credit cards would work in Angola. Why? I don’t really know. All I know is that they were not going to be usable except at the hotels.

 

 

 

Joana would pay.

This meant that Joana would be funding the entire trip from our own cash reserves and credit cards. I had euros and American cash, but we agreed that Joana would pay for everything. Then, at the end of the trip, she would give me a total, and I would reimburse her. You’re not going to believe how that plan turned out!

 

 

We had a long drive ahead.

The drive from Luanda, where we started, to Sumbe, where the race would take place, was 325 kilometers. Given the road conditions, it would take all of six hours to make that drive. 

 

 

In Africa, it is recommended that you avoid driving at night. The road conditions are bad, there are all kinds of unfenced animals, from goats to cows and more, and pedestrians walk along the side of the road. No, any travel book you read will say not to drive at night in Africa. We were able to abide by that rule until the last night, which became one of the scarier nights in all of my travels.

 

 

 

 

The first of many stops during the drive.

We weren’t too far out of town when everybody in the car recommended that we stop at an arts and crafts roadside stop.

 

 

 

This would be the first of many very unusual roadside stops on this trip. The arts and craft vendors were selling a lot of straw products, baskets, hats, and some beautiful African art. I had absolutely no room in my luggage to carry anything more so I was not a buyer.

 

 

 

 

Maybe my Hey Dudes needed a shine!

However, my friends did encourage me to get a shoe shine. I was wearing suede-covered Hey Dude casual shoes. I didn’t think I was exactly the right kind of customer, but I got a shoe shine. The young man doing the job was a very hardworking 15-year-old. This was a good cultural experience for me. From the looks of things, I was not this youngster’s normal customer.

 

 

No. No soup for you today.

Before we got too far out of Luanda, I wanted to make a quick stop at the Autódromo Internacional de Luandaracetrack. This is where I originally thought the racing would be held in Angola. 

 

 

 

We had some problems here. All over Angola, there are security personnel who sometimes take their jobs too seriously. Despite the fact that nothing was really going on around this dilapidated racetrack, these security guys were not going to let us in.

 

 

Joana is well-connected with the Angola auto racing scene. She began to make some phone calls. I was learning she could be a very determined person. As always, all of the conversations were in Portuguese. She called someone, and then the security people called someone, and this went back and forth for about 20 minutes until our entry was denied. On the way out, I stopped to get my picture taken next to the track sign. The security guy, who had hassled us, immediately came out and said I couldn’t take that photo, even though I was on public property at that point. We didn’t win the entry attempt, but we would try again on Monday when we drove back to Luanda.

 

 

Angolan currency.

The currency in Angola is the Angolan Kwanza. Right now, one US dollar buys you 917 Kwanza. When I saw items priced in Kwanzas, I tried to divide by 1,000 to get the price in U.S. dollars. I didn’t have a Kwanza dollar to my name on this trip, so that I couldn’t buy much.

 

 

The largest river in Angola was worth a stop. Monkeys?

As our trip continued, we crossed over the Kwanza River. Ben informed me that this was the country’s largest river and that we needed to stop and get our pictures taken at the bridge.

 

 

 

As we approached the bridge after pulling our car over to the side of the road, we discovered a large number of monkeys in the trees. I hadn’t expected that. Ben, our translator, did a good job keeping everyone informed about what our conversations covered. He also liked doing video interviews. Ben would have me stop and answer a series of his questions.

 

 

Just a short drive down the road, the police pulled us over. Like any good cub reporter, I was there with the photo! The police inspected the car and told us we were missing one piece of documentation. That was going to cost us. How much? One thousand Angolan kwanzas! How much is that? About one dollar U.S.

 

I had remained in the car during our police stop. Soon Ben returned to the car and said, “You need to get out of the car. The police want to have their picture taken with you.” Wow! They knew I was the World’s #1 Trackchaser all the way down in Angola? I obliged, and soon the police and I were high-fiving and smiling. This was quite the meet-up. Our journey resumed.

 

 

How about a stop at a beachside resort?

The day was heating up into the low 90s, and without air-conditioning, it was getting warm. We were out in the middle of nowhere when someone asked, “Would anybody like to stop at a beachside resort and get some lunch?”

 

 

Say what? Of course, that sounded like a great idea, but there didn’t seem to be any beach resorts anywhere near where we were. How was this going to happen? Soon, Bama made his own exit from the highway, and we drove over some of the bumpiest and dustiest roads I’ve encountered in some time.

 

 

About that time, we did come across the Carpe Diem Tropical Resort. All of our north-south drive had the Atlantic Ocean just on our west side, out from the highway, a couple of miles.

 

 

The resort was like an oasis in the desert. When we arrived, we saw people enjoying their lunch at the beach with the beautiful blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean as the backdrop. It reminded me of a scene from the Caribbean.

 

 

We sat down at a table, and I ordered some drinks. However, Joana didn’t really like this place. She said she wanted to eat in a “proper restaurant.” That seemed like a fine idea, but there didn’t seem to be any proper restaurants anywhere near where we were.

 

 

At times, Joana could be persistent. I jokingly applied the moniker to Joana as “Presidente of the trip.” If any of us wanted to get anything done, it had to go through Joana for her approval, which was generally just fine with me.

 

 

It turned out that there was a restaurant next door to what Joana had referred to as the “sports bar” where we were first seated.

 

 

Fish.

Everyone, but me, ordered fish for lunch. Some large fish were served, with heads, and everyone enjoyed our lunch. Me? I had them deliver a burger from the sports bar! I don’t eat fish, and fish seems to be the most popular dish in Angola.

 

 

Do you think we should slow down?

Bama was an excellent driver. At times, he drove just a little bit faster than I wanted. I would recommend that we slow down just a bit, given our car’s condition and the road’s condition. Bama would oblige for about two km. Then he would be back to his just a little bit faster than I thought we should be going speed. I tried the slow-down recommendation a few more times, but then finally gave up.

 

 

Bama.

Bama was a good young man. He was serious about his driving. He was friendly but didn’t speak English. It was good to have him on the trip. I could not have asked for three better travel companions. They were each perfect.

 

 

Despite two people in our car speaking only Portuguese, me speaking only English, and Ben being the only person who could speak both Portuguese and English, the conversation was nonstop. These folks had a lot of enthusiasm. They were definitely up for a road trip. We all played our song lists via Bluetooth through the car’s audio system. They didn’t know most of my music, and I didn’t know any of theirs. Nevertheless, we had a good time singing along. 

 

 

The Quiet Game.

Ben was busy translating for us. Sometimes the conversation just drifted into Portuguese at a fast, furious clip.

 

 

Bama drove, and I rode in the front passenger seat. Ben and Joana rode in the back seat. There was a time when the conversation between Ben and Joana continued nonstop at a furious, possibly heated pace. I had no idea what they were talking about.

 

 

The conversation was so intense that I had to come up with a “game” I had not used in decades when our own children got a bit boisterous. We played the “Quiet Game.” Everyone had to stop talking for seven minutes. This was a new game for everyone in the car! It worked. Nobody spoke for those seven minutes, and when time was up, everyone’s conversations seemed to return to normal.

 

 

 

I had not expected this.

The roadside “traffic” was pretty unbelievable. Lots of local people sat under trees, trying to sell their food and drink to cars passing by.

 

 

Still more people were walking along the side of the road. I’m talking about us passing 50 people every few miles, walking within two or three feet of the high-speed highway traffic. Animals were everywhere. Lots of goats and cows, with no fencing separating them from the highway. I guess they must’ve been trained pretty well because, despite us passing by at 60 mph, they never darted out in front of us.

 

 

Wait. Let’s turn around and check that out!

As we were driving past, one family stood under a tree with what looked like a giant snake. As we passed by, I recommended that we make a U-turn and check things out.

 

 

This was one of our wilder experiences. The guy along the road, along with his wife, had a 20-foot boa constrictor snake. It was dead. That was a plus, but I don’t think the snake had been dead very long.

 

 

Of course, Joana, Bama, and Ben each had to pick up the snake and lift it at its widest part. It was probably six inches thick and weighed the better part of 75 pounds. This was the biggest snake I had ever seen. I had no interest in touching a slimy boa constrictor, but I didn’t mind taking some photos of the people who wanted that experience.

 

 

When you’re in a car with someone for hours, you will get to know them.

The more time we spent in the car, the better we all got to know each other. Joana explained that although that was her real name, she preferred the name “Jacqueline” or Jacke for short. From that point forward, Joana was Jacke, the president of the trip.

 

 

We stopped at a few other places. There weren’t many gas stations, but those that were around usually had a convenience store where we could buy a cold drink and maybe a snack. In one area, many women were selling dried fish to truck drivers who stopped for a meal.

 

 

The Sumbe Oceanview Street Circuit.

The race in Sumbe was going to be conducted on a street circuit. A street circuit race means precisely what it says. They would close some streets in the city itself, put up very minor safety barriers, and hold a race on the city streets.

 

 

Sunset in Sumbe.

We arrived in Sumbe right at sunset. The racing cars and motorcycles were already in the paddock area, ready for tomorrow’s racing.

 

 

We took the opportunity to get up close and personal with the race cars. Then Joana introduced me to several of the racing dignitaries who were managing the race details. It was nice to meet those folks. They seemed happy that an American had come all this way to see racing in their little part of the world.

 

 

Our Sumbe hotel would provide memories.

Next, we checked into our hotel. Just that process was going to be an unusual and exciting experience. It didn’t look like they were going to accept my credit cards. We were told to come back later and try again.

 

 

This was a nice enough class three hotel. Jacke had selected this hotel and made a reservation for me. She said the Marulho Resort was the only decent place to stay in Sumbe. The hotel had a swimming pool and a restaurant next to it. That’s where we had dinner for the evening.

 

 

I checked into my room, which included a large king-size bed. The room wasn’t large, but for one person, that would work out just fine.

 

 

Oh, my. This was our plan?

This is where things got wonky. I hadn’t thought to ask Jacke what kind of accommodations she and the “boys”, which is what Jacke called Ben and Bama, were going to have. When I did ask that question, the answer more than surprised me.

 

 

I asked Jacke where she was planning to sleep. She told me that she would sleep in the car. I shuddered. Then I asked where the guys were going to sleep. She told me they would be sleeping in a tent in a nearby park.

 

 

Nope. That doesn’t happen on my trips.

None of that was going to happen on my watch. When I travel with people, I want them to have the same benefits I do. I told Jacke I would rent everyone a room at my expense.

 

 

We were able to get Jacke a room immediately. When I tried to get a room for Ben and Bama, I was told there were no more rooms available. Now we had just a little bit of a “resource” problem. How were we going to handle this situation?

 

 

Initially, Jacke thought she would sleep in the car, and the guys would sleep in a tent. If the three of them shared a room, that should be an upgrade, right? That became our plan. However, not all plans are implemented and workable, if you know what I mean.

 

 

Dinner and drinks.

At dinner, we all had some drinks. It seemed as if everyone was not accustomed to drinking much alcohol.

 

 

Jacke left dinner early and, by her own choice, slept in the backseat of the car. As far as I knew, the guys slept in the hotel room that was initially reserved for Jacke. No, our hotel room dilemma was not exactly solved. There will be more on this later.

 

 

 

Sunday.

 

 

92 countries.

Today was race day. When the day ended, I would be able to say that I had now seen racing in 92 countries around the world. I think that’s a pretty remarkable statement to make.

 

 

We had all agreed to meet this morning for breakfast at 8 a.m. It was common for us to make a plan and then, just before it was about to happen, change it. I don’t normally operate that way, but when in Angola, right?

 

 

My travel handbook did not have an answer for this question.

We agreed to meet at 8 a.m. for breakfast. Jacke knocked on my door at 6:30 a.m. She told me she had slept in the car until 3:30 a.m. and now, three hours later, it was time for a shower. She asked me if she could take a shower in my room.

 

 

OK, I admit it. I do not commonly get requests from a good-looking 25-year-old woman I met the day before to come into my hotel room to take a shower. Given the circumstances, I tried to decide on the most appropriate response.

 

 

I told Jacke that taking a shower would be fine. I rolled over in bed and faced away from the bathroom, and Jacke took her shower. Oftentimes, I have a hard time understanding how I get into the situations that I get into, but as long as everybody is happy when the event is finished, I guess it’s OK.

 

 

Basketball in the heat and humidity.

These kids had a lot of energy. The hotel property had a huge outdoor basketball court with blue flooring. The entire court looked like a gigantic, Olympic-sized swimming pool. Despite the 90° heat and humidity, we all played basketball for half an hour before breakfast.

 

 

Kind of glad we didn’t have to drive today.

When it was time to go to the race track, I saw Jacke looking at the engine with the hood raised on her Toyota RAV4. Bama was inside the car trying to get it started. That wasn’t a good sign, but the race track was only a five-minute walk from the hotel, so it worked out ok. We walked to the track. We would look at the car later.

 

 

Seeing my first race in any country is so much fun. You can see what it takes to create that experience.

Today’s racing experience was just plain fun. It was fun because it was so unusual. There were about 12 cars in the paddock and a like number of motorcycles.

 

 

Racing was scheduled to begin at “about 11 AM.” We arrived at 9 a.m. because you never wanna be late for one of these things.

 

 

Jacke had arranged everything for this trip, and one of the items was complimentary pit passes from her racing colleagues. Racing colleagues? Yes, me, Ben, and Bama. That all worked out really well.

 

 

The good thing about seeing a race on the street course or a road course, for that matter, is that as a spectator, you can generally walk around anywhere you want. You can get up close to the cars. You can walk the entire circuit if you want. You can go anywhere.

 

 

 

I mentioned that in Angola, many security personnel have little to do. They commonly want to direct you in one way or another according to their wishes.

 

 

Don’t ask for approval; ask for forgiveness.

Ben, our translator, enjoyed the different sayings that I shared with him. One thing that he liked about as well as anything was when I told him, “You don’t want to live life asking for approval, you want to be willing to ask for forgiveness when needed instead.” 

 

 

When I wanted to move around, I just nodded and waved, and often the security folks let me go where I wanted. For the folks in our group, I said, “Follow me,” and away we went. We were able to do virtually everything and go virtually everywhere that we wanted.

 

 

Meeting the race teams was fun.

Jacke introduced me to some of the race teams and team members. One of the teams owned a winery. They invited me in for a glass of wine while they relaxed until the race started. I met a young man about 10 years old, who spoke English well. He told me he loved America, but Angola was the “best” country. Fair enough.

 

 

I didn’t care for this.

I had a major issue with the racetrack configuration today. There were almost no safety barriers whatsoever.

 

 

Have you ever been in a small town during a parade? Maybe you sat on a lawn chair on the sidewalk while the floats glided by at 5 mph. That seemed perfectly safe, didn’t it?

 

 

Today’s street circuit was just like one of those parades. People could sit in a ballroom-type chair alongside the actual street itself and watch the cars speed by. At different parts in the track, the cars reached speeds of 150 km/h. They passed by spectators sitting in those chairs only 5 feet away, with absolutely no safety barriers whatsoever separating the cars and the fans. 

 

 

Crazy loco.

This was one of the craziest things I’ve ever seen in motorsports, next to the guys who race on ice in the middle of the winter in Minnesota, who don’t wear any racing helmets whatsoever. They’ll have a 1980 Chevy Impala with five guys in the car racing at 60 mph. The guys could all be offensive linemen for the Minnesota Vikings, and nobody’s wearing a helmet, but they might have a beer in their hands. Crazy.

 

 

In the hobby of trackchasing, I can count a track after I see cars race, but motorcycles don’t count. The first races of the day were for the motorcycles. We got there at nine, expecting the races to start at 11 in the morning. The first car race didn’t hit the track until 3 p.m. Six hours out in the heat and humidity was tough. Check out the Atlantic Ocean in the background!

 

 

Shady and safe, a good combination.

I did find a spot underneath a shade tree for all of us. This was away from any safety hazards, so we could watch the racing safely. From this location, we could see the cars come down a steep hill for a couple of hundred yards, make a 90° left-hand turn, and then race down the main straightaway for a quarter mile or more. Being in the shade was nice.

 

 

Sumbe Oceanview Street Course.

I could never get an official name for the track, so I dubbed it the Sumbe Oceanview Street Course. The Atlantic Ocean was 30-40 yards from the track itself. Some fans at the beach watched the race, and others just relaxed in the sand and enjoyed the water.

 

 

We were at the track for more than six hours. We saw everything there was to see, and it was a wonderful experience for a trackchaser like me.

 

 

After the races, it was an easy walk back to the hotel. Some people went to the pool. Some people went into the shade for a drink, and others played basketball.

 

 

I love doing local media interviews at these faraway locations.

Jacke had arranged for a friend who works in the racing media to do an interview with me. That was fun. The interview was done in English.

 

 

Could we improve the hotel arrangement?

At dinner, we all got around to talking about how the hotel arrangement had worked last night. I guess it didn’t work all that well because Jacke ended up sleeping in her car!

 

 

Tonight, I wanted to make sure that everybody would “play nice” and share the hotel room I bought for them, as we had planned.

 

 

I asked Jacke if she planned to sleep in the room, and she told me she would sleep overnight in her car again. What? Why?

 

 

Making friends on a road trip!

She told me the boys had made some young “friends” at the pool, if you know what I mean. They wanted to bring their friends into the room, which left little room for Jacke.

 

 

That wasn’t acceptable to me. I sat around the table with everyone and explained that I wanted them to have a hotel room because I didn’t want them sleeping in cars or tents. I had intended to get a third room for the guys, but the hotel was sold out and no more were available.

 

 

I was pretty sure that my message got across, but maybe it didn’t. Jacke was not convinced the guys would cooperate and support her.

 

 

Four people. Two hotel rooms.

We tried to work on a solution. We had four people and two rooms. Everyday “hotel math” might come up with an answer that reads, two people in each room. I think that’s what everyone else was angling for.

 

 

That math didn’t exactly work for me. I didn’t necessarily want to share my king-size bed with one of the other guys. Everyone seemed to think they understood my thinking on that point. Neither one of the guys could have a “friend” visit if they were staying in my room.

 

 

Solution B.

Then solution B came up: the guys would sleep in their room with their “swimming pool friends,” and maybe Jacke would sleep in my king-size bed. Life is all about “timing and circumstances,” isn’t it?

 

 

I reminded everyone that I was a happily married man and wanted to stay that way. I told them that I didn’t think my wife would be very supportive of this latest solution.

 

 

Jacke told me that she would sleep on the floor. I told her she couldn’t do that. She told me she would sleep in the bathroom, and I told her that wasn’t a good choice either.

 

 

It was one thing to let someone come into your hotel room, somewhat unannounced, and take a shower. It was a horse of a different color if that metaphor still works for me to share my hotel room with an attractive travel partner. How did all of this turn out?

 

 

O.K., I don’t really know how this turned out.

I’m not 100% sure how it all turned out. I wasn’t entirely confident that everybody was being truthful, especially Bama and Ben. Nevertheless, Jacke slept overnight in her car, and I’m guessing the guys slept in the hotel room I had bought for Jacke with their friends. I thought I had done all I could. Did I pick the right solution?

 

 

Monday.

 

 

Maybe Jacke was going to run out of money!

Now it was time to drive six hours north back to Luanda, where our adventure had begun. We got started at about nine in the morning with a stop for gas for the Toyota RAV4. Once again, my credit cards wouldn’t work, and Joana had to pay for everything. I reminded her again that I expected her to provide me with a total for all expenses at the end of the trip. I would reimburse her one time from the US dollars I brought with me. She told me that it would be no problem at all.

 

 

Buy local.

On the drive, we encountered again a large number of people selling their goods along the roadside. We stopped once and bought some shrimp. Another time, we purchased a local Angolan drink that comes in a large white bottle. Jacke told me the bottle contained “Natural milk, extracted directly from the cow into the bottle. After a few days, it coagulates and ferments.” We even stopped another time to see what some boys were selling when one of them waved a huge bloody piece of meat in our faces.

 

 

At the rate we were going, we would easily get back to Lunda in the daylight. The sun sets here at about 6 p.m. However, not every good plan works out. The idea of getting back to Luanda in daylight was not going to happen, and it did not.

 

 

Safari!!

As we were driving along, we saw a sign for a “Safari opportunity” in a national park. Everyone agreed that sounded like fun. That was the norm with our group. Every time someone suggested something, everyone was for the idea. We pulled over to the Quicama National Park and inquired about the safari details.

 

 

It turned out that they offered a two-hour Safari. From what I could tell, the cost was a reasonable six dollars per person, and again, Jacke ponied up the money for us.

 

 

I didn’t exactly know what I owed her, but I knew that the expenses were adding up. I also suspected that she might be running a little low on funds because I don’t think she had expected to cover all the expenses.

 

 

Once we were in the park, we discovered it would be a challenging, intense ride on a bumpy, dusty dirt road with huge potholes to reach the start of the safari. The ride to get to the Safari took almost an hour and a half.

 

 

Cuca beer.

Once we arrived at the safari location, we had just enough time for a Cuca beer, Angola’s #1 beer. We joined up with a couple of other families and hopped on a Safari truck to see what we could see.

 

 

Not my best safari.

Truth is, we couldn’t see much. I have done safaris in South Africa, Namibia, Kenya (the best for me), and Zimbabwe. The Safari ride took two hours. All we saw were a few gazelles and the like, and a small herd of elephants so far in the distance that we really weren’t sure they were elephants. When we finished the Safari trip, everyone agreed that it was a colossal waste of time. Meeting the kids was the BEST part of this safari!

 

 

Now we had that hour and a half drive on the bumpy, dusty, and rough dirt road to get us back to the main highway before we could resume our journey to Luanda.

 

 

Nighttime driving in Africa. Don’t do it.

When we got back to the highway, the sun was setting. It was then that I noticed that our trusty Toyota RAV4 had almost no working headlights. I probably could’ve taken a couple of flashlights and provided more illumination. We still had more than two hours of driving, and it would all be in pure darkness.

 

 

In Angola, pedestrian traffic on the streets is heavy. People walk along the side of the highway within a couple of feet of the high-speed passing traffic. It seemed as if there were even more people walking at night.

 

 

There might be a line of ten cars, nose to tail, and there was always one driver who tried to pass one car at a time, just escaping the oncoming traffic before he or she darted into a space that didn’t really exist. Angolan highway driving is really crazy, and it’s ten times worse at night.

 

 

I take risks. Calculated risks.

I take risks on trips like this, but everything I do is calculated. I wouldn’t really do anything that I thought had a high chance of personal danger. Of course, what I feel isn’t really dangerous; other people would be petrified to experience.

 

 

Two big risks…and I didn’t die.

I’ve now done two things when touring that I thought were absolutely crazy and wouldn’t want to do again. One was when I was with our entire family, we decided to take a midnight walk along the lava rocks on the Big Island of Hawaii. The volcano was still active as we walked along the rough and jagged edges of huge pieces of lava with almost no light. We could see the orange glow of lava flowing within a couple of feet of where we were walking. That was an absolutely crazy and dangerous experience.

 

 

Driving on the highways of Angola in the dark with virtually no headlights and all kinds of pedestrian and animal traffic and crazy drivers ranked right up there with that midnight walking tour on the Big Island of Hawaii. I wouldn’t want to do either again.

 

 

Saying good-bye to Ben.

We finally made it back to the city. It was time for Ben to say farewell. It was nice to have him as our translator.

 

 

What an enthusiastic young man! Ben had confided in me a couple of times during the trip that he felt like I could be his father. He was very genuine when he told me that. I would be proud to be Ben’s father.

 

 

Then Bama, Jacke, and I went to a large shopping center with a modern grocery store in search of dinner. We found a late-night dinner in one of the grocery store restaurants.

 

 

Jacke spent her money wisely.

I took Jacke over to the health and beauty aid section of the store and pointed out several Procter & Gamble products. I’m retired from P&G.

 

 

I showed her the Pampers disposable diapers display. She picked up a package and examined it. Then, a little while later, she messaged me via her phone’s translator, asking if I knew that Pampers was the highest-priced product in the disposable diaper section of the store.

 

 

I tried to explain that Procter and Gamble offers higher-quality products, which usually means a higher price, but I don’t think she was buying it. Jacke was very price-conscious about things. During the trip, I had to really encourage her to let us spend the money on different things because in my world, these things weren’t expensive at all.

 

 

 

Tuesday.

 

 

It was time to leave Angola.

Today was getaway day for me. I was leaving Angola. Later, I would be flying from Angola to Ethiopia with a stop in Mali. I would be staying in Ethiopia for three days.

 

 

How much do I owe you?

Jacke and I sat down for breakfast at my hotel. Our conversation moved over to how much money I owed her for all of the expenses she had covered.

 

 

I asked her what my total bill would be. She confessed. She hadn’t been keeping track. Oh my!

 

 

I honestly think that she didn’t keep track because she intended to pay for everything herself. I could not, and would not even consider such a thought. Jacke was a very special person, and her personality proved it many times over during the trip.

 

 

I knew what we were paying Bama for his driving skills and Ben for his translation skills. I had a rough estimate of the other expenses. A rental car would’ve cost us $500-600 for three days. Joana volunteered to share her car for everyone’s benefit. She didn’t want any money for the car.

 

 

I had a small white bank envelope that I brought from home. Under the table, I stuffed it with as many hundred-dollar bills as the envelope would accept. I hoped this would be enough.

 

 

Then I handed the envelope to Jacke and told her not to look at it until she got home. She agreed.

 

 

Just a little bit more touring.

We weren’t through touring yet. Jacke and I met up with Bama, and they drove me around the city of Luanda. Luanda has two distinct sides. One is filled with high-rise buildings overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, making Luanda look fairly modern.

 

 

The other side of Lunda is the lower-income area, where people live in slum-like accommodations. There’s a massive difference between the more modern Angola and the Third World part of Angola.

 

 

Jacke did everything she could to make sure my trip went perfectly, and she succeeded. If I mentioned something as innocuous as saying I wouldn’t mind having a Pepsi Zero, she was soon directing Bama to the very next opportunity to get a cold drink.

 

 

One more try just to see what the Autodromo Luanda racetrack looked like.

We had tried to visit the Autodromo Luanda racetrack on Saturday, but they wouldn’t let us in. Now, Jacke had made some phone calls to the right people. We were going to get in today, no matter what.

 

 

We showed up at the race track. The two security people were carrying M-16 automatic machine guns with their fingers on the trigger! We told them who we were. They allowed us to pass.

 

 

Bama would be the man now.

Once inside the track, I had Bama take a lap around the circuit in Jacke’s Toyota Rav-4. He enjoyed that. Bama was a race driver! The track was in rough shape.

 

 

Then we got out of the car and went to the very top of the scoring tower, giving us a panoramic view of the entire area. As you can see from the photo, Jacke is one enthusiastic young woman.

 

 

Last stop on the tour.

From there, we drove downtown, got our picture in front of the Luanda sign, and then Bama drove us all to the airport.

 

 

Meeting new friends.

It was interesting to think that Jacke and I had first started communicating about two months ago. It started slowly, and then the questions and answers came much more frequently.

 

 

Then we met up in Luanda and were joined by her friends, Bama and Ben. All of that created a road trip that will be a lifelong memory for everyone.

 

 

Jacke told me she had never ever met an American before. They all three told me they had never flown on an airplane in their lives. Ben and Bama had only been to Angola. Jacke had managed to visit the nearby country of Namibia once.

 

 

There was no doubt about it. I had absolutely no idea what their life experiences had been up to this point. I’m equally sure that they really had no idea what my experience as an American had been.

 

 

Parting ways with everyone reminded me of my experiences at church camp when I was a young teenager. Everyone showed up on day one and didn’t know anyone. Then, during the week, you met people and had all kinds of shared experiences. By the time the camp ended, you were all sad to see each other go.

 

 

There’s a bright future ahead of this young woman.

Jacke told me she is strongly interested in leaving Angola and pursuing her goals elsewhere. She doesn’t speak English. I told her that’s going to hold her back in most situations she might want to experience in the future. If you have any great ideas on how you can help Jacke with her future anywhere in the world, send them my way.

 

 

I was happy to learn that the day I left, she enrolled in an English course and now studies two hours a day, five days a week, in class. She is a very hard-working and goal-oriented person. I know she’s going to do well. I’m going to use my contacts and influence wherever I can to help her achieve our goals.

 

 

This adventure had an unusual start and a great ending.

As I look back on this trip, I’m a little bit blown away. The entire trip idea started with contacting a few people on Facebook until one person gave me a phone number for someone who would make everything I’ve just described a reality.

 

 

This was not the type of trip where you fly into an airport and meet someone holding a sign, and they drive you to a hotel, and then take you to breakfast, and after breakfast, you hop on a tour bus and see a couple of museums and take a church tour and then repeat for as long as a trip lasts. This wasn’t that kind of a trip.

 

 

No fish, but everything else is fair game.

When I travel, I’m open to doing virtually everything. No, I won’t eat fish with heads. I have to draw the line somewhere. Most people in my demographic are not going to have the opportunity to spend four days with three young positive Angolans on what might be the trip of a lifetime for them, and also the journey of a lifetime for me.

 

 

I’m so glad I did this. I’m happy I met Jacke, Bama, and Ben. Great young people. I won the geographic lottery, and up to now, they have lost it. It’s as simple as that. I wish it weren’t that way. They say life is not always fair. In this case, I think that adage holds.

 

 

Goodbye to Angola, and soon hello to Ethiopia, then Senegal. I hope you enjoyed what I shared with you today. It was a pleasure and an honor to write about it.

 

 

Randy.