Angola is one of those places you hear about in fragments. A friend of a friend saw a photo of a left point on a South African oil worker’s phone. A YouTube clip surfaces: a long wall running with no one on it. A country with 1,600 kilometres of coast that somehow escaped surf maps for half a century.

It’s not because the waves weren’t there. They were, with clean points, river mouths, sandbanks shifting with the seasons. The problem was everything around them. A 27-year civil war closed the roads, emptied towns, and left the countryside littered with landmines. Travel was near impossible, and surfing was the last thing on anyone’s mind.

Now, more than twenty years after peace, Angola is opening up, and more surfers are starting to roll down its coast with boards on the roof, checking out the points.

First Impressions Last

Flying into Luanda, the capital, is a surprise. Oil wealth collides with poverty on every corner. High-rise apartments for executives overlook sprawling informal neighbourhoods where most Angolans live. Prices are unpredictable. Inflation still swings, which means you never quite know what things are worth until you hand over the cash.

South of Luanda, the tar road rattles and dips, peeling away past checkpoints and villages. Every few hours, the sea flashes back into view, and with it, the chance of a wave.

Cabo Ledo

Cabo Ledo is the best-known. A wide bay framed by a headland that bends the swell into a left point. On smaller days, it’s forgiving; when heavier, it lines up in long, serious walls. There’s a small surf community here now, with Angolan groms learning to stand up, a handful of expats escaping the city, and travellers who braved the road. But it’s still quiet compared to anywhere else with a wave of this quality.

Southbound

Further down the coast, things get looser. Lobito, Benguela, Namibe: towns that feel worn and half-forgotten, with colonial relics alongside Soviet-era concrete. The fishing ports hum, the markets spill into the streets, and just outside town, the coastline keeps peeling. Rivermouths that shift sandbars every season. Rocky points with nobody out. Desert-backed beaches.

Each stop feels like it could hold a gem. The surf isn’t guaranteed; wind, tide, and swell don’t always line up, but when they do, the rewards are pretty good.

Travel Realities

Angola isn’t a budget surf trip. Hotels outside Luanda can be cheap, but food and fuel are not. The local currency, the Kwanza, slides against the dollar, and you’ll find yourself bargaining for everything. Cash is king. Checkpoints are common; keep photocopies of your passport and small notes ready. Sometimes it’s official, sometimes it’s not.

Security in towns is mostly fine if you keep your head down, but the rule is simple: move quietly, don’t flash gear, and listen when locals advise.

The Payoff

Angola is still a relatively blank page in surf travel. The waves are there, and they’re real, with long lefts, barrelling beachies, river mouth wedges, but they come wrapped in the grit of travel that most modern surf trips have lost. You’ll put in hours on rough roads and surf sessions that are sometimes lonely, sometimes sublime.

It’s not for everyone. But if the idea of scoring a wave that feels like no one has named it yet excites you, the Angolan coastline seems to have been waiting the whole time.

Before the War

That wait goes back further than most realise. In 1974, Hawaiian legend Randy Rarick drove the coast before Angola was swallowed by conflict. He found waves, clean lefts, long points, empty beaches, but he also found a country on the edge of something darker.

“There were very few surfers around in the early seventies,” Rarick remembered. “I’d heard that Bob Evans had taken Peter Drouyn into southern Angola, just for a day. But otherwise, no one I knew had been.”

By the time Rarick arrived, Angola was in flux. Independence from Portugal had been declared, but the civil war hadn’t officially started.

“There was a lot of uncertainty as to who was in control,” he said. “We had to travel in military convoys through portions of the country.”

The bigger challenge was access. “In the south, there weren’t many coastal roads back then, so you had to four-by-four a lot of the way. Most people were living subsistence. But the waves were there, and we were the only surfers in the entire country. Everywhere we went, people were amazed to see us ride waves.”

Rarick spent three months pushing down the coast. He recalls one heavy moment at the Congo River: “I saw a body floating downstream and figured it wasn’t smart to head upriver. And once, in convoy, they told us to watch out for machine gun fire. We hid under the vehicle until it passed.”

Still, the surf was worth it. “If you look at a map of Angola, it’s clear. Long stretches of beach broken by headlands. Some of those headlands create perfect left points. South of Luanda is easiest, but there are setups all the way down. It’s expensive to live there now, with most money tied to oil or mining, but if you want an adventure and have the time, there are great waves to be had.”

Today

Half a century, Angola remains a place for surfers willing to take on uncertainty, deal with the logistics, and embrace the rough edges. The road is long, the infrastructure is fragile, and the risks are real. But the waves, those clean points and nameless river mouths, are still out there, waiting for whoever’s keen enough to hit it.

Travel notes

Visas & Entry

• Apply online (e-visa) or through the embassy.
• Print hotel bookings and return ticket for checks.

Money & Costs

• Currency: Kwanza (AOA).
• Inflation is volatile; the U.S. dollar is the best.
• ATMs are unreliable outside Luanda.

Security & Safety

• Frequent checkpoints: carry passport copies + small bills.
• There are still some landmines inland.
• Petty theft in cities: stay low-key.

Health

• Malaria.
• Hospitals outside Luanda are limited.
• Travel insurance is essential.

Surf Season

• Best: May–October.
• Wetsuit: 3/2, sometimes 4/3 (cold upwellings).
• Mornings are glassy; afternoons are windy.

Travel Notes

• Roads are rough, and delays are common.
• Fuel can be scarce, so fill up early.
• Some Portuguese is helpful, as is Apple Translate.