We meet fisherman Juan. He has a small shelter made of reed right next to the road. Behind it and the narrow piece of ground it occupies, a large river delta spreads out. His canoe rests by the water edge. Todays catch lies left to dry on a log next to him. He takes two of the fishes and grills them in a fire for us to taste. “Caraçao” (heart), he says and points at us.
We camp a few kilometres further on, behind a roadside bar. Quickly, before the sun sets, we walk to a water outlet by the road where we bath.
Somewhere between Porto Amboim and Cacusaria da Queve, Angola.