The best approach, I reckon, is to just pick up where I left off. My memories are getting a bit hazy, but thank goodness for pictures and my trusty Google Calendar.
In July, we headed out on the company boat of our friends, Mr. We knew fishing was going to be unproductive, so we planned to cruise along Mussulo Beach, nibble on some lunch, and take in the sights along the shore. There are some very nice houses along Mussulo. According to the boat captain, most are owned by prominent generals and other government officials. Many of them look like small hotels, complete with dozens of tables and loungers set up on the shore.
Most appeared empty except for occasional workers making repairs and wandering ladies selling various wares.. This lone potential customer is getting the hard sell from some ladies selling fabrics and dresses. From our previous trips out, we have learned that proper boating etiquette has not yet made it to Luanda.
More than once on this trip, we were almost run over by a fellow boater determined to have the right of way. This is up close and personal, folks. After cruising around for awhile, we spied a shanty town precariously perched on the side of a cliff. From a distance, the colorful window coverings captured the imagination. As we approached, however, the reality was a bit less charming.
usr@4535661@2024-02-14(|)7bde25b05f46839f7de438f3f9fab628.jpg "Model Hooker in Luanda")
I wondered why the windows on these buildings were so tiny, when they could have a very nice view of the water. But of course, I was looking at things from a first-world perspective. The small size was to protect against rain and a persistent sea breeze β and for structural integrity, I imagine. Navigating through this maze of buildings would be hard for us from the flatlands, but these residents seemed to make their way without a problem.
