Getting out of Dakar was a nightmare. The traffic was heavy, and it was dark by the time I found a suitable parking spot for the night outside a church. The burn wound on my leg, which I’d got after accidentally touching the hot exhaust of a motorbike (see go! #181) was getting inflamed. I had a fitful night’s sleep.
I left the church parking at sunrise, knowing that my day would involve two ferry crossings. The first was over the Saloum River at Foundiougne. Upon arrival, I was informed that only one of the two ferries was operating. The queued vehicles were loaded to the hilt – some had half or more of their height in goods precariously strapped to the roof. My van, BlueBelle, was literally overshadowed.
The sky was bright with a smattering of clouds reflecting in the river. Colourful carved wooden boats lay on the banks as fishermen brought in their early catch to sell to local traders. Ramshackle roadside stands sold the harvest (cooked or fresh) to ferry customers. Opposite these, in contrast, stood a well-constructed and secure modern building. I noted that the employees in the yard seemed to be almost exclusively Chinese. I was told by fishermen that this was one of several new fish processing plants in the area, which were seriously impacting their livelihood.
I eventually boarded the ferry on an uneven metal ramp. I locked BlueBelle and had just got out into the searing heat when a man shoved a life jacket into my hands. Having lived in Europe for the past 20 years, I was well indoctrinated into health and safety protocols. Without question or hesitation – and reflecting my lack of confidence in the ferry – I duly donned the jacket. It wasn’t until we were well out on the water that I noticed I was the only person wearing one!
Checkpoint gauntlets in The Gambia
After getting off the ferry, I drove for about 90 km on a decent tar road to the Karang border post. Only 20 metres separated the Senegalese exit border from The Gambian entry border. It was confusing having to speak French on one side and then, within minutes, English on the other.
The Republic of The Gambia is a geographical oddity. It lies entirely within Senegal: 480 km long and never more than 50 km wide. The whole country is basically the Gambia River and its surrounding flood plain.
A rotund, middle-aged man decided to take me under his wing. It was only later that I realised I had let my guard down and
