The Gambia

21/22/23 January

Ahh I've been forgetting the Maggi!

I taxi off to Pompieres, Dakar again to head off to Karang and Senegal’s middle border with The Gambia. Road is ok – then gets worse & worse. But we have a good driver who negotiates the twists & turns at a fair speed, getting us to the border around 2.30pm. Now a bloke in the car is full of information and he tells me “the women at the border are cheating people – cash your money with the Fulanis” But I let him do the deal, get cheated & lose $20 worth of dalanis. And there I thought I was onto a good thing! Arriving in The Gambia, I meet up with the National Commsioner, Yamundow Jogne Jobe who invites me to dinner Sunday night & to visit their headquarters on Monday. I stay overnight in Serekunda in an awful room and go looking the next morning to move. Now The Gambia is renowned (in Europe, from where they have quick access) for its Atlantic beach resorts, and so I was tempted. I head off to look for alternative rooms but most everywhere around the beaches I was harangued & petitioned by all manner of young men for my attention – “you looking for me sister?” was one line that particularly made me laugh. These blokes are known as ‘bumsters’ and sex tourism for women is their game, so I guess you can’t really blame then for trying. I soon scarper back to the relative anonymity & shelter of Serekunda town and bargain for a better room where I’m staying then head out to Lamin Lodge wetlands. This place is built like a big kid’s castle, suitable eccentric & peaceful overlooking the Gambia River & its wetlands. Great lunch high up in a tower, get a lift back to the highway to a ‘wildlife’ park. I am immediately approached again with a hissed “Do you remember me?” I quickly reassure him that there would be no reason whatsoever for me to remember him and he scuttles off. The park is nice enough with a few birds but no animals bar a few monkeys tempted by tourist’s peanuts. I chat with a couple of poms who are also disappointed by Gambia, being stuck out at a resort & trying to find other things to do!

Seregambia is another small village that is the home to more Atlantic resorts & also another wildlife park. Not wishing to make hasty opinions about The Gambia (although they are coming hard & fast) I walk the length & breadth of this park but again no animals. :-(

Head back to town for dinner @ Yamundow’s home. I’m picked up by her nephew & a woman who is a pom by accent, by trinidadian parents. She has just had a marriage ceremony here in Gambia because “it’s cheaper’ and is going home to cook goat for her new inlaws etc. I tell her that I thought goat took a lot of time to cook – apparently not here because it’s ‘organic’!?? Methinks she hasn’t done a lot of cooking up to now. I ask after her religion - she is christian, and I ask her if she is planning to convert to Islam – she says that is still up for discussion! Hmmm

Dinner at Yamundows with her husband is lovely with typical arachide (groundnut) sauce & rice. We make arrangements to visit their Guide Headquarters the next day.

FACT Yamundow confirmed that there are no animals in the parks, due to prolonged drought here!

Sightseeing

Thursday 20 January

Isle de Goree – or the Slave Island

 

Nice ferry ride out to a small island which is really very cute. But my word there are a lot of folk trying to sell a lot of the same thing there, of which I want none. And they are not easily persuaded of this fact, either! I check out the few sights and then see the supposed slave house with its door, may really be a furphy as no ship could have docked so close to the rocks there. And history shows that of the 20 million slaves transported from West Africa, only about 300 a year left from Isle de Goree.

Head off looking for a few errands in the busy city of Dakar. Can I find safety pins – yes, I do. But they are in little sets – of 3 sizes on a bigger safety pin. The seller soon understands that I only want one of the sizes and three of us all set to work liberating 100 of the size safety pin that I want to make giveaway flag pins. I think of Monica while we’re doing this, knowing she would have loved this craziness, especially when the bloke wants to charge me for the labour, after we’re done!

Dakar

Wednesday 19 January

 

DHL is first on my to-do list – and it turns out they’re only a 10 minute walk away! WOW, well done Kyle. I retrieve my Guide uniform (or my African version of it) and many of the Guide souvenirs that I couldn’t fit into my bag before I left. I manage the local bus out to the port where I indeed find that there are no tickets left on Friday’s ferry and there is certainly no waiting list. Bugger – there goes my Casamance visit. Oh well, with a bit of thought I decide to head off to The Gambia on Friday instead. Wander a bit about town, try their big pharmacy & BINGO I can buy as much Larium as I want. It’s pricey but I take the opportunity to exercise the useless mastercard again (Visa is king in West Africa). Get the right bus back to the suburbs again and I’m not feeling so at sea now here in Dakar, which is a big city!
Wearing my newly arrived Guide uniform, I meet up with Jocelyn Delgado , who has also arranged for Senegal’s Girl Guide Commisaire Generale Mme Gring to visit @ my hotel. Then we head out to the workplace of the International Commisionar Mme Adande who stamps my WAGGGS card (upside down!) We arrange to meet for breakfast tomorrow (at least I thought we did, cause she never shows!). Jocy & I spend the afternoon together & then head out to the burbs to visit a Girl Guide unit – Brownies, Guides & Rangers meet at a Catholic school, but occupy different rooms. Boy Scouts also meet here at this time also. We visit all three sections, and sepnd time with the Rangers who ware very keen to communicate with an Australian Guides! The Rangers are making food to sell to the Scouts that night, to raise money for girls to attend events etc. Some things are so universal?? The fruit salad is very popular & soon sells out amid much fun & laughter. There is a final concluding ceremony with both the Rangers & Rovers together & left that night with a huge smile on my dial, having had so much simple fun with them. I promise Jocy to keep in touch & bid her farewell.

Dakar or bust

Tuesday 18 January

Dakar Senegal

A sept place (7 place peugot) to Dakar involves the inevitable breakdown adding an hour onto our 4 hr trip. Then I get to Pompieres, a huge place full of transport going every which way in Senegal from the capital. I manage to buy some credit to ring Jhonta Coly, who tells the taxi driver where to take me to …. AS we drive, I get the feeling I’m heading away from the centre ville (city) and try to place us on the map I have. Then I’m dropped of @ a petrol station where I am collected by Jhonta and the house is not far. We chat, he is unemployed and we’re soon joined by one of his mates… The house is very bare, except for a few mattresses on the floor. He makes a call – the ferry on Friday is full. bugger! And I’m getting the feeling that I don’t want to stay an hour away out of town. So I thank them for their offer but I will head back to the highway to get another taxi back to town, citing Point E. But of course my accent is always going to be difficult and as the taxi driver keeps reciting Ponty back at me, I gather again by the map, that we are heading again in a different direction. I keep asking “Monsieur, tu regard” (you look), “attention”  & waving the address. Only when we end up in the dead centre of Dakar on POMPY, that I again ask “Regard” and he calls another guy over when  I realise that he is probably illiterate. Omg, which is I am sure what he saying when it is explained where I really want to go –Point ugh (all together in your best french accents). Off we go again, another tour of Dakar of which I am now starting to get my bearings and end up @ an overpriced auberge, who take credit cards. OK – we’ll fly with this & get all the mod cons including hot water & satellite tv. This is a bit of a groovy area and I eat at an Ethiopian restaurant for my first night in Dakar. Now there's a bit of variety in my life! lol

St Loius in Africa

Monday 17 January

I debate heading off to Dakar, but looking for another lazy day. I telephone the number I have been given by Girl Guides Senegal, and converse with Espeance - at least she converses & I manage to comprehend that we will meet for lunch @ 12, at the Hotel sur la Poste, a historic french outpost as they established a mail run from Paris to Morroco to Dakar. daccour!  However I wait a while and start to think that I misunderstood the time, but soon here is Esperance a tall gorgeous sengelese woman introducing herself. We go for lunch at the Flamingo, and are soon joined by the National Program Manager Marie Caroline. I am invited to dinner that night @ Espi’s home which  is great - grilled fish, salad, and the inevitable pan (baguette) & pomme frites (french fries) both of which I should not eat but do cause they are always yummy. Her husband works at the hospital, speaks great english & I gain more insight to Senegal medical & education systems (we both deplore the koran begging boys), and by the time we've finished dinner Espy has Jocelyn on the ph, with recomendations of places to stay in Dakar, then her husband has a cousin who has a big house that is empty at the moment (not too sure where the italians are), and more contacts for the Casamance & Kaffrine! WOW GO GIRL GUIDES!!!!

StLouis

Sunday 16 January

I join Michel in a taxi out to Zebrabar - apparently very well known if you’re an overlanding european. Many folk get a 4wd car or van, and bring it down through Mauritania for the challenging drive, then sell the car giving the sales money to various charities of whoever is leading the drive (Carol & Andrew - one to keep in mind perhaps?). Then there are the europeans who are holidaying here regularly in their camper vans or tents... I guess it’s a very nice alternative to going all the way to India. Michel gets the great dorm (a safari tent) all to himself for a cheap price & we join up with a couple of brits & and a swiss Chris for a boat tour of the river & birdlife. No Flamingos – I am soo disappointed. But after chatting with others I gather we have been sold the cheap version and there are flamingos further on in the park. ;( BUT I do get to see the Atlantic Ocean for the very first time. We return for a traditional meal of spaghetti bolognese & then some general lazing when I persuade Michel to put his surfboard together and try it out on the river. SO far all information he has been given is very positive for his venture, and the trial is a success – the board stays together. The crazy german will go onto surf the Atlantic Ocean tomorrow for sure! We spend the rest of the arvo lazing about before I head back to St Louis in the pre arranged taxi. I get dropped off on the other side of the bridge & spend the late afternoon walking back over the bridge to & around the island. Not a real lot going for it, I have to say – people surviving, selling anything & everything to anybody, and all in french! lol

Following the Senegal RIver

Saturday 15 January

Morning brings breakfast with the priests, who I find out are from Cameroon & Niger while the 2 nuns are from India & Japan! All spending 5 years here serving the spiritual needs of a very small Catholic community & facilitating the education of the wider community with their library & computers. The priests mention that because I did not return early last night, they had feared that I had been taken by Al Queda! hmmmI ask them if there is anything i can do to help them, as well as paying a fair price for the bed - end up doing the dishes and cleaning up their kitchen a bit... Then the priest gives me a lift to the moto park to get transport in a sept place back to the highway, where we wait for a bus that is great - I had a choice of seats, got a lovely window seat near the open back door - I didn't care how often is stopped! EXCEPT when we stopped at a place called Richard Toll. Where we stopped & stopped and then found that we passengers were subcontracted onto another bus because the bus we were on had so few passengers it wasn't worth their while taking as far as they had taken money for! So more fighting for a seat and nearly the slowest 100kms that I've travelled yet - 6 hours - to St Louis. Get off feeling s little weary now, got a taxi into town where the hostel owner watched me get out of the taxi with my pack, send the taxi away, let me walk inside and then inform me that the hostel was full - no beds. Oh well, walking a few blocks in the cool breeze cooled my temper a little and I got a very flash room for more than I wanted to pay, but what the heck! Turned out to be the best mattress I've slept on since leaving home and hot water in the bathroom. I head back to the hostel to negotiate a bed for tomorrow, get talking to a German guy, Michel who had brought a surfboard that he made himself, to Senegal looking for somewhere to surf!! I was gobsmacked. But he was heading to an encampement tomorrow, and I debated whether to join him just for change of scenery. We decide to meet up again later to listen to music over @ the French Cultural place as he is also travelling alone. The french organisers were very full of themselves (unusual, you ask?) because as we are finishing our beers we are told that it is now or never to go in & listen to the music. And no we cannot take our beers in!! WOW now I know I’m adjusting to Africa because we cannot believe such a thing. We sit and drink some more whilst debating will we go in when we watch a few other groups approach the now shut door. They are obviously negotiating with some success so we leave our dregs & enter the outdoor auditorium. Then we have to listen to the frenchie rabbit on & on about how privileged we all are etc etc. Then the solo guy comes on & sings in french & english! Not really the advertised african blues… He is joined a later by a very good kora player, but we still leave early, and Michel & I arrange to meet the next morning to travel to the Parc di Barbarie together, he to stay & me to visit.

Following the Senegal RIver

Friday 14 January

Travel to Podor

More long distance transport to travel down to lovely Podor - on the Senegal river. The historic river boat Bou El Mogdad is moored here in anticipation of resuming a historic service plying the river. Men are playing Petanque outside the auberge and as I walk the streets, it takes me a while to realise the absence of cars & motorbikes here. Only the sounds of birds and people chatting. Friendly locals - no chanting of tuobob here!. Return from a lovely dinner to find the auberge closed – I had wondered what time they closed up. After a few “mon frere, mon frere”calls to the upstairs rooms I gain admittance. A fine print notice in my room announces wi-fi - unbelieveable!

Crossed the Senegal Mali borders

Thursday 13 January

Crossed the Senegal Mali borders

A reasonable night's sleep in Keyes, & in the morning find their Gare Routiere to purchase a ticket. Now this does not mean that I actually get anything – this means I’m loudly approached by a tout, who wants to know where I am going. Ok, ok he says, 5000 cfa. I pay and am then instructed to “sit over there, sit over there”. Over there is a 2 sided shed with a few benches and some passengers from last night’s bus already ‘sitting there’. So I sit and wait cause I’m not in any hurry & even if I was I would still have to wait. Then the young bus boys start to gather bags & cases from a humongous pile behind me and start loading onto the bus. This is a good sign, methinks. I wander about the yard and am immediately accosted by the Koran singing beggars. Ignoring them, I quiz a few waiting passengers about the destination of this bus- yes, they agree it it going to Diboli (on the Mali side) & Kidira (on the Senegal side). Everyone is milling about the bus, the bus boys are busy hauling and pushing the luggage into the bus storage and generally looking very busy hopping on & off the bus, but certainly not letting any passengers on. I head back to the shed, where someone notices me, and takes my pack to join the ever growing piles of luggage to go on the bus. Then the ‘book’ appears – now this is very good sign because it has the names of the passengers who have bought a ticket and are called on board in order of purchase. Much discussion goes on in the bus amongst the bus boys & the boss, who then clears off again with the book. This is a bad sign. More milling about and some information is being passed amongst passengers, and we all wait some more. Then a mini bus turns up – turns out they are over booked and are now taking the opportunity for 2 buses to cross the border. The book appears, Kidara passengers, of which I am one, are called onto the mini bus when I realise that my pack is on the other bus. No problems, I’m told, this bus & that bus are going together. And sure enough we do meet again @ the border. Out we go from the small bus, get stamped out of Mali, then I am asked ‘where is your luggage?” Hmm now I realise that I have no idea which the 3 parked buses has my pack. Then one of the buses starts to drive off – no problems again, I’m told, we go together to the Senegal side. On the Senegal side all bus passengers' bags are opened & searched- imagine 40 or so stripey bags full of heavens knows what - all undertaken under the watchful gaze of all the curious passengers. My pack is hauled out of one of the buses & for once is reasonably tidy! Then all hand luggage is visually checked & patted down! OK we’ve finished and next we are negotiating with a taxi. First I go into the Police office to get my entry stamp – no not here. But the driver knows where – but curiously he parks about 3 blocks away and we walk the rest of the way, while the rest of the taxi passengers have to wait. And so do I because the policeman is now praying. After enough praise is given to Allah, he turns his attention to me – and asks if WADE is a family name in Australia. He’s curious because it turns out the Senegalese President name is WADE, pronounced wad. This provides us both with some amusement (always a good thing @ borders). Onwards to another minivan then the numerous police stops & checks in the first 100kms of road lengthen the trip. Only real noticeable difference between countries seems to be that there are mile markers & the roads this side seem in reasonable condition compared to the washed out pavement in Mali. I overnight at Ouro Sogoui - try saying that with a mouth full of marbles! lol

FACT: A$1=500 cfa (West African Franc)

FACT 2: I am geting very tired of white bread baguettes

Crossed the Senegal Mali borders

Thursday 13 January

Crossed the Senegal Mali borders

A reasonable night's sleep in Keyes, & in the morning find their Gare Routiere to purchase a ticket. Now this does not mean that I actually get anything – this means I’m loudly approached by a tout, who wants to know where I am going. Ok, ok he says, 5000 cfa. I pay and am then instructed to “sit over there, sit over there”. Over there is a 2 sided shed with a few benches and some passengers from last night’s bus already ‘sitting there’. So I sit and wait cause I’m not in any hurry & even if I was I would still have to wait. Then the young bus boys start to gather bags & cases from a humongous pile behind me and start loading onto the bus. This is a good sign, methinks. I wander about the yard and am immediately accosted by the Koran singing beggars. Ignoring them, I quiz a few waiting passengers about the destination of this bus- yes, they agree it it going to Diboli (on the Mali side) & Kidira (on the Senegal side). Everyone is milling about the bus, the bus boys are busy hauling and pushing the luggage into the bus storage and generally looking very busy hopping on & off the bus, but certainly not letting any passengers on. I head back to the shed, where someone notices me, and takes my pack to join the ever growing piles of luggage to go on the bus. Then the ‘book’ appears – now this is very good sign because it has the names of the passengers who have bought a ticket and are called on board in order of purchase. Much discussion goes on in the bus amongst the bus boys & the boss, who then clears off again with the book. This is a bad sign. More milling about and some information is being passed amongst passengers, and we all wait some more. Then a mini bus turns up – turns out they are over booked and are now taking the opportunity for 2 buses to cross the border. The book appears, Kidara passengers, of which I am one, are called onto the mini bus when I realise that my pack is on the other bus. No problems, I’m told, this bus & that bus are going together. And sure enough we do meet again @ the border. Out we go from the small bus, get stamped out of Mali, then I am asked ‘where is your luggage?” Hmm now I realise that I have no idea which the 3 parked buses has my pack. Then one of the buses starts to drive off – no problems again, I’m told, we go together to the Senegal side. On the Senegal side all bus passengers' bags are opened & searched- imagine 40 or so stripey bags full of heavens knows what - all undertaken under the watchful gaze of all the curious passengers. My pack is hauled out of one of the buses & for once is reasonably tidy! Then all hand luggage is visually checked & patted down! OK we’ve finished and next we are negotiating with a taxi. First I go into the Police office to get my entry stamp – no not here. But the driver knows where – but curiously he parks about 3 blocks away and we walk the rest of the way, while the rest of the taxi passengers have to wait. And so do I because the policeman is now praying. After enough praise is given to Allah, he turns his attention to me – and asks if WADE is a family name in Australia. He’s curious because it turns out the Senegalese President name is WADE, pronounced wad. This provides us both with some amusement (always a good thing @ borders). Onwards to another minivan then the numerous police stops & checks in the first 100kms of road lengthen the trip. Only real noticeable difference between countries seems to be that there are mile markers & the roads this side seem in reasonable condition compared to the washed out pavement in Mali. I overnight at Ouro Sogoui - try saying that with a mouth full of marbles! lol

FACT: A$1=500 cfa (West African Franc)

FACT 2: I am geting very tired of white bread baguettes