A brand new hotel, Ixoras, had just opened- super fancy and ultimate in luxe. It was clean and fresh with all working parts- a bit of a rarity in Kin. The staff was overly attentive. People appeared from around corners like magic, ready to solve any problem. When my electronic key card wouldn't open the door to my room, I barely had time to turn around before a man materialized next to me. "Problem, miss?" It bordered on creepy. But it did solve the problem. In seconds. I was slightly confused, suspicious even, about the way he just appeared, knew my problem, and offered a working card- the skeleton key of cards I imagine, which felt odd, although I suppose all hotels have master keys. The same man came around later, to announce the time and ask if I need to get anything from outside before the curfew. He took the opportunity to point out the inner bolt on the door- which he said I should lock for security.
I stepped inside and look around. Everything inside the room was electronic. Once entering, the card is placed in a small holder by the door and this activates the power- the lights turn on, the tv, fans and air conditioner are activated. The arrangement seems a bit risky in this land lacking stable electricity. We'd chosen the cheapest room- which still seems pricey for Africa. However, the normal complaints were avoided- the a/c worked, the bed was firm and sheets were clean. The water was running, the internet was fine and there was even a fire extinguisher under the sink. I suspected the level of luxe might even beat out the former Grand Hotel of Kinshasa- now the Pullman- although I have never actually seen a room there, so I'm only guessing, based on the mere fact that Ixoras is new. I wonder what it will look like a year from now.
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| Clean, crisp, cozy |
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| Construction workers just outside the window, but friendly. Added bonus: water from the tap. |
Kinshasa has a surprising number of hotels and I am perplexed by the market. Who are the clients in need of such fancy places? Ixoras is a large building on the corner of the 7eme rue in Limete, just across from the communal patch of land that seems to house the spirit of the community. We stopped there after purchasing some snacks and finger food for the road from a little supermarche nearby.
Nearly every place in Kinshasa holds a memory and this patch of land is no different. I'd spent time here watching karate and capoeira classes offered outside on the cement. I held my breath as kids did spinning kicks and hand stands on concrete. It was vibrant and busy six years ago. Now the space was largely taken up with tables and outdoor eateries offering small items such as brochettes or ntaba and soda. The smoke from the metal barbecues hung in the damp air. We chose a table under an umbrella, barely dry, and had a snack of peanuts while the kids drank soda and watched the night descend.
We slept in a big comfortable bed, the night sounds muted because of the curfew.
The next morning we woke early and prepared to walk down to the bus station. Although someone had come around in the evening to let us know they were closing up because of the curfew, we hadn't really understood what that meant. In the morning it became clear. We couldn't get out. The metal gates were closed and locked. No one seemed to have the key. I spent some time discussing this with the person at the front gate. Not only was it necessary to have informed the guests the night before- especially for those who might have an early morning appointment- but it was just plain dangerous to have us all locked inside with no quick way out. Eventually, and this was a good 10-15 minutes later, someone emerged with the security guard and a key. Alarming to imagine....surely we would not have slept so well if we had known.
We made it to the station with plenty of time to stand around and watch the people queuing, the sellers arriving. I took notes on my phone of what was being offered- items deemed important enough to warrant getting up and arriving at the bus station by 6 am. Some things made sense: bread, there's always bread. Water. We'd already stocked up the night before but one of the women walked by shaking her head at us as if to say, you don't want water? Everyone wants water. There was the phone credit guy, yelling Mega, Mega- which is what you buy for internet connection. It would be a long ride, surely you want to have your internet topped off. Someone was selling masks, someone is always selling masks.
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| Dependable, professional service |
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| Someone lent us a cube which turned out to be excellent entertainment for the week |
