Nomad issue #22

DISPATCH
F
or many, Angola is the last piece
of Africa’s travel puzzle. Once
known as the mighty Kingdom
of Ndongo ruled by Ngola
(kings) it is a country that has
been virtually ‘closed’ to the
outside world since it cast off the
shackles of Portuguese colonial rule. It is a
country that has been shaped by a painful
history of war and conflict, and yet today
it is experiencing transformative change as
certain as it is unpredictable.
For most, knowledge about Angola starts
and ends with war. This is unfortunate but
unsurprising for a country that was embroiled
in a bitter complex civil war that spanned 27
years and caused immeasurable damage.
While the war ended in 2002, its scars are
yet to fully heal. Tourists, therefore, haven’t
flocked to Angola’s shores in great numbers
and it is this that has transformed the country
into one of Africa’s greatest mysteries.
The plane banked steeply over the
dazzling waters of the Atlantic Ocean
below us, the sun casting blinding reflections
of the newly built skyscrapers rising from
Luanda’s central business district. But it was
something else altogether that caught my
eye - the sprawling shanty towns (locally
known as Musseques) home to the majority
of Luanda’s eight million souls. It was literally
a sea of humanity contained in a chaotic
maze of corrugated iron dwellings. I knew,
well before the tyres kissed the tarmac, that
Luanda would be a city of unfathomable
contrasts.
Luanda was undeniably hot and
somewhat humid, probably a climate not
too different from when it was founded in
1576 by Portuguese explorer Paulo Dia
de Novais under the flowery name of São
Paulo da Assunção de Loanda. From the
moment of its birth and for centuries after,
Luanda’s existence was inextricably linked
to the movement of human cargo: the slave
trade. Some three million souls destined for
the plantations of South America and the
Caribbean passed through its port. It was
something to contemplate as the taxi whisked
me through traffic.
I parked myself in the Hotel Continental
just a stone's throw away from the Baía de
Luanda (Bay of Luanda) and situated directly
next to crumbling facades of houses built
some 400 years ago. Luanda is however
more than a few crumbling buildings; new
construction projects are springing up
across the city with an insatiable appetite,
from modern gated condominiums in
the Talatona neighborhood and Chinese
financed (and built) skyscrapers to fine
dining establishments along the bay. There
is no doubt that this city is Angola’s heart;
a cosmopolitan and frenetic city, alive and
heaving just below the surface.
The next morning at sunrise, I hit the
Avenida 4 de Fevereiro, situated along
the bay, for a run. I swept past the Banco
Nacional de Angola, a stunning relic of
architecture with its perfect pink dome
designed by Vasco Regaleira and inaugurated
in 1956, before backtracking and heading for
the Ilha do Cabo (Cape Island), a long spit of
land jutting out into the Atlantic and lined with
restaurants. By the time I got back to my hotel,
Luanda was starting to wake from its slumbers
and I prepared to head down the coast.
Nearly half a century ago Parque
Nacional da Quiçama (Kissama) was
teeming with an abundance of wildlife, from
the critically endangered Giant Sable to a
nationally important population of elephants
roaming freely in this 12,000 km² park.
Initially established as a hunting reserve, its
birth as a national park in 1975 coincided
with the eruption of civil war and like many
of Angola’s National Parks, Quiçama was
abandoned. Today, driving through the park,
it is clear that while Quiçama no longer hosts
the multitudes of wildlife like it did in the past
it is experiencing a resurgence of sorts and
offers the best opportunity for spotting wildlife
close to Luanda.
In the late afternoon we left Quiçama
behind us and headed back towards the
capital, with one brief stop. The Miradouro
da Lua (Viewpoint of the Moon) is one of
Angola’s most spectacular natural sights, a
lunar-martian landscape of deep shades of
red and pink and earthy browns intricately
carved by rain and wind over time. The cliffs
tumble down to Angola’s wild coast in the
distance. It is one of Angola’s most easily
accessible sights just an hour (40km) out of
Luanda.
I returned to the city just in time to head
up to the imposing Fortaleza de São Miguel
guarding the entrance to Luanda Bay,
constructed by the Portuguese in 1576. It is
Luanda's oldest surviving building and home
to the National Military Museum. Along
with several planes and artillery housed in
the courtyard it offers sweeping views of the
surrounding.
As night fell, I headed out in search of
a meal. Luanda’s cuisine is famous for its
strong Portuguese and Brazilian influences,
with signature seafood dishes. For those on
a culinary adventure, sampling traditional
Angolan dishes like Funge ( dish made with
cassava flour) and Muamba de Galinha
(aromatic chicken stew) are a must. I played it
safe with the fresh lobster curry eaten on the
rugged wooden deck of the contemporary
Cafe del Mar, situated near the end of the
Ilha do Cabo.
Make no mistake, Angola is outrageously
expensive and difficult to travel around,
but is absolutely raw in every sense of the
word. Hidden within its borders lie mystical
waterfalls, impenetrable equatorial rainforests
and isolated beaches. It is an unexplored
paradise and so as the Angolan Proverb
goes: “The mysterious road beckons the
young man”. I know I will return; sooner rather
than later.
NOMAD MAGAZINE 2019 45