The Road That Almost Killed Me — Riding Through the DRC 🇨🇩 - PART 1

This was, without question, the toughest ride of my entire journey across Africa.

After leaving Cabinda, the Angolan enclave on the Atlantic coast, I crossed into the Democratic Republic of the Congo and started making my way toward Matadi. On the map, the route did not look particularly intimidating. In reality, it became one of the most physically and mentally demanding days I have ever experienced on a motorcycle.

The road quickly deteriorated once I moved deeper into the countryside. Tarmac disappeared, replaced by rough tracks, deep sand and increasingly difficult terrain. Temperatures were pushing close to 40°C, and riding a heavily loaded adventure motorcycle through those conditions demanded constant concentration.

Deep sand is exhausting even on a light bike. On a fully loaded Africa Twin, every mistake becomes much more difficult to recover from. The motorcycle, luggage and fuel together weighed close to 300 kilograms, and keeping that weight moving through soft sand required strength, balance and momentum.

At first, it was simply another difficult road. Then came the final 10 kilometres.

By that point, the heat had already taken a serious toll. I was dehydrated, physically exhausted and mentally drained. The road became progressively worse, and every few metres required another burst of energy just to keep the motorcycle moving forward and upright.

There is a point during extreme physical exhaustion when determination stops being enough. Your reactions become slower, your concentration starts disappearing and even simple decisions become difficult. That was the point I was approaching.

I remember thinking that if I had another kilometre of the same terrain ahead of me, I genuinely did not know whether I would be able to continue.

This was never about deliberately putting myself in danger or creating drama for a video. It was simply the result of difficult terrain, extreme heat, a very heavy motorcycle and a route that turned out to be much harder than I had anticipated.

There was another, more commonly used route south through Muanda before joining the N1 toward Matadi. Most traffic used that road. I had chosen a much quieter route through the countryside because, on the map, it appeared considerably shorter.

Shorter, however, certainly did not mean easier.

The lack of traffic also meant there was very little help around if something went wrong. For long stretches, it was just me, the motorcycle and the road ahead.

Somewhere beyond all of it was Matadi. Turning around would not have solved much, so the only realistic option was to continue moving forward, one difficult section at a time.

Eventually, I made it through.

Looking back, those final kilometres became one of the defining moments of my entire journey across Africa. They pushed me closer to my physical limit than any road before or after.

The Democratic Republic of the Congo had barely begun, and it had already given me the hardest ride of the journey.

Welcome to the DRC. Part 1

I’ll be documenting this adventure along the way — the good, the bad, and everything in between. If you want to ride with me through Africa’s deserts, mountains, chaos, and calm, you can follow the journey on Instagram, and TikTok. I’ll be sharing stories from the road, raw moments, and the reality behind chasing freedom on two wheels.

So, come along for the ride — the long way through Africa.

Peace!