We went back to the immigration office at 8am as we had promised to bring copies of our Angolan visas. We were greeted by #4 (the polite one) who said we could go and provided an escort to the border.

The 20km to the border was good tarmac and we arrived there before 10am. The Angolan side was fairly efficient once the customs officials had arrived from Cabinda. The DRC side was somewhat less so, and after visiting police, immigration, customs, and the military we finally left the border at 1:30pm after an exhaustive police search of all four vehicles that left us tired and hot.

The track to Moanda was bad, but tarmac had never been attempted so it could have been worse. Moanda seems like it has long been expecting lots of oil money that has never arrived. We can see many oil rigs from the shore, and there are helicopters buzzing back and forth from the platforms. After checking in with the immigration office, we went to the Catholic mission looking for a place to stay. They wanted US$50 for our group of nine and, when we said it was too expensive, they suggested that we try the nunnery instead. The Sisters of Charity charged us $20 and had a lovely verandah where we cooked and relaxed. The sisters even had cold beer in the fridge which was most welcome. We talked with a South African guy staying there who had come from Matadi. He advised us not to drive after 5pm for security reasons and that the first 120km is very slow.

The sisters made us a wonderful breakfast of omelettes and freshly baked bread along with excellent homemade yoghurt. We left Moanda at about 8:30. The track was very slow with deep ruts. Fortunately it hasn't rained recently and the track was mostly dry. It would be almost impassible after a couple days' rain.

We were pleasantly surprised by the infrequent, quick and friendly police stops. We reached the north side of the Congo River in the afternoon and were treated to a wonderful view of the city of Matadi crawling up the hillside. We joked that it looked like an Italian Mediterranean town . As usual our thoughts turned to food and we started discussing alfredo sauce and chianti. The Congo river is spanned here by a very modern suspension bridge that seems very much out of place here. We were charged a reasonable US$2 to cross and found another nunnery to spend the night at. We hope to get our Angola visas tomorrow and be on our way.

Witt and Elza went to the Angolan embassy this morning and were confronted with a bizarre array of asinine requirements to get a visa. First, and most insulting, was the US$80 they wanted. Also required were photocopies of all of the pages in our passports. We argued vehemently that nine passports times twenty pages each amounted to a large book that would cost a fortune. They amended their requirement to include just the pages with visas on them, which still makes nearly 100 pages. The two-page form we have to fill out for each applicant costs 1000 Congolese Francs, or almost 3 US dollars. We told them we would take one form and copy it, but they wouldn't hear of it. In any case the chief isn't in today and won't be back till Monday, so we're stuck in Matadi for the weekend. We are hoping that the chief will be a little more reasonable.

The nunnery we're staying at also happens to be a primary school and we were inundated with little kids running around screaming. They were naturally very curious about us, and the teachers who had admonished the kids to leave us alone were standing back a little but just as curious as the kids. We spent the afternoon relaxing and Jen made a wonderful potjie for dinner.

With nothing to do all weekend we pretty much lazed around the convent all day and thought about what to eat for lunch, dinner, etc. Jen, Witt, and Vicky went shopping in the morning. The only meat they could find (that looked any good and was reasonably priced) was 10kg of frozen chicken legs imported from the USA. It seems we can't escape hormone-fed meat even in Africa. Lacking anything better to do and having several members of our group who are obsessed with food, we spend a lot of time thinking about food, planning meals, and cooking. This evening we made pizzas with tomato sauce, curried chicken, banana, and La Vache Qui Rit (what we sometimes call "laughing cow", a processed cheese spread that has been our constant companion from Morocco onwards) the making of which was quite an operation for nine people. Along with the pizza we had a tomato and avocado salad. Each pizza was baked over charcoal on a portable grill. They came out very nicely and we gave the nuns a taste. Not only had they never had pizza before, they didn't know what it was! After dinner Elza brought out her laptop and we watched the French film, Delicatessen, under the stars.

Another day lounging around the convent, but at least on the weekend there aren't a million screaming kids running around.

Jen went to the church service in the morning with the mother superior and two other sisters. The 3-hour Catholic Mass was held in French, Latin, and the local Congolese tribal language. As it turned out, Jen was the guest of honor and was asked to stand as the priest made a speech that she didn't understand. Afterwards, everyone in the congregation clapped, so we can only assume that the priest said something to welcome her to their community. Or perhaps he was commenting about how unusual it is for a white person to come to their church. Either way, Jen was just a bit embarrassed about being singled out. Fortunately, everyone was very nice about it and she was suddenly on a first-name basis with a bunch of people who were eager to talk with her and shake her hand.

Meanwhile, our obsession with food continues, as does our quest to eat the chicken that won't fit in the freezer. Connie made her now-famous chicken tikka masala and we had a nice flan for desert.

Hoping to finally be able to leave Matadi we arrived at the Angolan embassy at 9:30 with our paperwork in hand. Again we were told that the vice counsel was out at that we'd have to come back tomorrow. They told us that if we paid now things would go faster tomorrow. Reluctantly we handed over $720 for nine visas and insisted on receipts. They told us that we could come back at 10am tomorrow to collect our visas.

When we returned to the convent, a crew from the Congolese television station was on hand to interview us (apparently they had heard we were here.) Elza, being the only fluent French speaker among us, gave the interview with Rafiki in the background. We're looking forward to the 18:30 news broadcast this evening, when (if the electricity is on) the interview is supposed to be broadcast.

Graham thinks he may have malaria and took a dose of Fansidar to try to kill it this morning. Unfortunately Fansidar pretty much knocks you out for a day, and he spent the afternoon sleeping in the tent. Clouds moved in at about 2pm and it rained heavily for about 20 minutes, just enough time for us to run around getting soaked while erecting awnings and moving our stuff under them.

As promised the Congolese TV station ran the interview on the news. We all gathered with a few of the sisters and watched Elza on TV.