Village Plage d'Or
Travel Blogs from Toubakouta
... He was surrounded by a phalanx of stoned silent Rastas. Like a peculiar inebriated king.
We felt more than a little intimidated as he and his crew joined us at Scrabble.
"In day he only half drunk, " another man whispered in my ear helpfully.
"But, at night he always like this." "Does the owner know?" I say imagining that a permanently ****** manager with attendant disreputables is not great ...
... to board as the lorries and the buses were trying to maneuver off. It was tragic, classic, good old African chaos. Excellent to sit in the shade and observe.
The Gambia comes as a little surprise. There are big smiles and lots of friendly mentioning of colonialism. "We like the English," says the immigrations official, the policemen, the coffee breakfast man... "They are our old colonial masters..." everybody says smiling without a hint of malice. ...
... comme les circoncisions des jeunes garçons... On a ensuite repris la pirogue pour se rendre au reposoir des oiseaux, petit ilôt de végétation au milieu du fleuve où viennent dormir les oiseaux le soir venu. C'était beau! On a pu voir plusieurs espèces de très près!
La deuxième excursion a eu lieu... à vélo! On s'est rendu à Missirah, encore plus au sud (voir la carte) pour voir le port de pêche et surtout le fromager millénaire qui a une circonférence ...
... the rear of our old jalopy sways right as the front tires continue straight. As ever in moments like these everything slows down. Adrenaline travels from your heart to your fingers, your pupils dilate, you grip whatever is in your hands, and your legs tense. You notice everything. The driver jerks the steering wheel to the right, we fish tail to the left. He turns left as hard as he can. This seems to go on for ...
... After only about 20 minutes into the walk, a vehicle drove past with two "tubabs" in the back seat. We realized they were probably coming from the lodge where we were headed. The driver of the vehicle talked briefly to the army man, who told us that he would be back to pick us up as soon as he dropped the ladies off at the main road. Sure enough, five minutes later we get in a vehicle with a license plate, "Tendaba", and I warily ask the driver if he happens to be ...
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