Full circle

As we pack up and see the house as empty as it was when we moved in more than three years ago there’s a curious sense of déjà vu. Not so with hotels. The first hotel we stayed at displayed all the signs of amateur building and amateur management. The floors of the rooms were not very flat and parts of the building built at different times didn’t join at quite the same level. Going down stairs was a highly risky business as the risers were different heights and the treads different widths. Readers with a good memory may remember a plaintive blog of the problems of getting a plug for the wash basin in my room.

Shortly after we arrived, we noticed that a 22 storey building on the river, a typical 1970s tower office block that had been built at the Zaire Centre of Commerce, was being renovated. It had been one of Mobutu’s prestige projects, and at the time was very grand, but like so much else had been ransacked and left semi-derelict. Rumours abounded about what was going on. Some said it would be offices and shopping centre, other thought it would be a hotel. It wasn’t until last year, just before the Francophonie Conference took place, that the final result was unveiled – a posh hotel. We finally found out that the renovation had been done by a private Chinese entrepreneur.

At first the prices were out of reach to anyone except the occasional high profile visitors such as Presidents and the likes of William Haig. But soon commercial sense prevailed and they reduced the prices to within reach of the standard international organisation, which meant us.

Room with a view

Four days before leaving Kinshasa, we check in. We didn’t expect anything special, but how wrong could we be? The reception was prompt and professional and the room truly superb, with everything you could possibly want. The view from the window was beautiful. 

The bathroom had every conceivable gadget including different types of shower and a huge victorian shape bath. And there was a plethora of different little boxes containing shower hats, toothbrushes and toothpaste, a comb, a sewing kit and so one as well as all the usual shampoos and conditioners. Apart from showing six different chinese channels the TV selection was normal and comprehensive. There were lights for every mood and occasion. And the breakfast had everything you might want: our only regret was that we were too busy to really enjoy it.

This wasn’t the half-baked hotel that we had become accustomed to in Kinshasa, but is a good symbol of what is happening in Kinshasa today as it renews itself with increasing momentum. Today’s visitor will never know what it was like only three years ago.

Only one thing struck a funny note in the hotel. It was a price list, laid discretely by the bed, of what you would be charged if you stole things from the room. The list included the usual things such as towels, dressing gowns and slippers, not to mention ash trays, ice buckets and other potential mementoes. But as we read the list our credulity became stretched to an increasing degree. Chairs, $60, (“just slipping out with it for a minute, I’ll bring it back”), the bar fridge, $250, (“would you mind giving me a hand, it’s a bit heavy . . .”) to the double bed, $450, (“would you kindly help me with the crane as I need to take something a bit tricky out of the window?”).

The Chinese clearly expect their guests to display the same ingenuity that makes them special.