The trek to Dakar and St Louis really highlighted the importance of good roads. Katie and I left Brikama at 5am to catch transport to Banjul. The distance is not very far (it wouldn’t even be as far away as Naracoorte from Edenhope) but we didn’t arrive until quarter to 7. This was on good roads, it just takes a long time to get public transport because so many people get on and off that the car stops every couple of kilometers – yes even at 5am!
We were just in time to catch the first ferry from Barra to Banjul. You can see the pic of how many people are on the ferry – I was amazed one time to see the ferry packed with people and cars and four trucks fully loaded with blue stone. I thanked my lucky stars that it wasn’t my ferry, but this did turn out to be the case on the return ferry journey from Senegal.
Once we got to Barra we met Emma and found out that the car we were travelling in (which was being driven by Pauline, a UN worker, with Adriana from the European Union) had missed the first ferry and would be three ferries later. We were lucky enough to find an internet café and filled the time in with coffee (Nescafe blend 43 mixed with sweetened condensed milk and literally thrown from one cup to another to make a cappacino), tapalapa with ackra (a heavy bread stick filled with fried bean balls and salsa) and facebook.
At ten we left and drove to the border, which wasn’t far but was hectic. Cars haven’t been around in Gambia long enough for people to watch out for traffic – the driver assumes responsibility for everything; jamming on breaks for pedestrians, livestock, cyclists and other drivers. No one takes responsibility for themselves – daily I see near fatal accidents which are narrowly avoided by these drivers who would be nearly the worst in the world apart from their world class defensive driving skills. It was impressive watching how well Paulina negotiated through the chaos considering she had only been driving in the country for a month.
At the border we had to sign out of Gambia and into Senegal – a process that made me extremely nervous because it was the first time I had driven over a border and not flown. I also was the only one in the car who needed a visa and the silly one who forgot my VSO card and Gambian residential permit (neither was actually needed in the long run).
Once over the border I quickly learned the importance of learning another language at school. The Senegalese people only speak Wolof and French. It was the first time I had been in a non-English speaking country and it really made the lazy attitude Australian’s have towards a second language stand out as ignorant. Nearly all the other volunteers could speak at least two languages (Paulina could speak English, Polish and French, Adriana French, Spanish and English). I really want to mention this as I know Ines has had a lot of hassle about German being a useless subject. When I was at school I couldn’t imagine that I would end up mixing with people from so many other countries, but I did that in Australia, without even leaving home. It’s not the language that you learn but the process of learning another language and the awareness it gives you that is important.
On this trip I had to decode menu’s using a French phrase book or reply on someone else to translate to do everything from finding out where we were going to how much I had to pay for something. At times I could do it using gestures but it was difficult. At least now I have had a crash course in speaking French and have learnt quite a bit through necessity.
Over the border we had about an hour of good road and about four hours of constant lurching due to pot holes or the necessary breaking for livestock, huge holes in the road and other cars. It was even more uncomfortable because three of us were sitting in two seats, which meant the whole time I was perched half on a wheel hub and half on a seat. I am not complaining though because the car was air conditioned and didn’t have to stop regularly for other passengers.
At one stage we stopped and stepped outside and it was like standing next to a wood fire that on high heat with the fan on full. I have never experienced anything that hot and can’t imagine how people survive in the little grass huts they live in.
We eventually got to Dakar at six thirty at night. A thirteen hour journey in the end – but the distance would probably only have been from Edenhope to Melbourne (I am not sure how far it is so I challenge you to look up Brikama and Dakar on the web!). Again negotiating finding your way through a foreign city without street or road signs and with crazy drivers was not easy but Adriana and Paulina managed it like pros. I was so impressed with them.
We left Dakar at seven thirty the next morning and hired a set plass (a station wagon – called a set plass because it is modified to carry seven passengers - seven places). We were joined for this leg of the journey by Mariella (another VSO) and her friend from Denmark. The journey to St Louis was long and hot (no air conditioning but I found out that four windows work just as well unless you are stopped), however the roads were amazing. We arrived in St Louis around two o’clock which gave us time for a snooze before exploring the town.
The ride home was even easier. We met up with a crew of Peace Corp and medical research volunteers from the Gambia so between the ten of us we hired a Gelli (a mini van that is modified to hold fourteen passengers – although this means cramming three to a seat and having one passenger on a make-shift fold down seat in each row). The road from St Louis to the Gambian border was fairly good although the last hour it was the nasty pot holed road we had on the way up. Unfortunately I was on the makeshift fold down seat which rocked from side to side. The combination of the seat and the road meant it was just like being in a boat on really stormy seas and I was thrown on to the girl beside me regularly until we jammed the seat with coke bottles (which still didn’t fix the problem but made it better).
At the border I was relieved not to be asked for the cards I left at home and we processed through even more quickly than on the way over. We then jammed into a bus/van vehicle and were pushed started (it is amazing that a van full of twenty to thirty people can be push started!) and drove the twenty minutes to Barra to catch the ferry. Katie and I eventually got home at seven thirty at night, having left St Louis at six am (again I am not sure how far it is from St Louis to Brikama but it will be good for your geography to check out the map).
We were just in time to catch the first ferry from Barra to Banjul. You can see the pic of how many people are on the ferry – I was amazed one time to see the ferry packed with people and cars and four trucks fully loaded with blue stone. I thanked my lucky stars that it wasn’t my ferry, but this did turn out to be the case on the return ferry journey from Senegal.
Once we got to Barra we met Emma and found out that the car we were travelling in (which was being driven by Pauline, a UN worker, with Adriana from the European Union) had missed the first ferry and would be three ferries later. We were lucky enough to find an internet café and filled the time in with coffee (Nescafe blend 43 mixed with sweetened condensed milk and literally thrown from one cup to another to make a cappacino), tapalapa with ackra (a heavy bread stick filled with fried bean balls and salsa) and facebook.
At ten we left and drove to the border, which wasn’t far but was hectic. Cars haven’t been around in Gambia long enough for people to watch out for traffic – the driver assumes responsibility for everything; jamming on breaks for pedestrians, livestock, cyclists and other drivers. No one takes responsibility for themselves – daily I see near fatal accidents which are narrowly avoided by these drivers who would be nearly the worst in the world apart from their world class defensive driving skills. It was impressive watching how well Paulina negotiated through the chaos considering she had only been driving in the country for a month.
At the border we had to sign out of Gambia and into Senegal – a process that made me extremely nervous because it was the first time I had driven over a border and not flown. I also was the only one in the car who needed a visa and the silly one who forgot my VSO card and Gambian residential permit (neither was actually needed in the long run).
Once over the border I quickly learned the importance of learning another language at school. The Senegalese people only speak Wolof and French. It was the first time I had been in a non-English speaking country and it really made the lazy attitude Australian’s have towards a second language stand out as ignorant. Nearly all the other volunteers could speak at least two languages (Paulina could speak English, Polish and French, Adriana French, Spanish and English). I really want to mention this as I know Ines has had a lot of hassle about German being a useless subject. When I was at school I couldn’t imagine that I would end up mixing with people from so many other countries, but I did that in Australia, without even leaving home. It’s not the language that you learn but the process of learning another language and the awareness it gives you that is important.
On this trip I had to decode menu’s using a French phrase book or reply on someone else to translate to do everything from finding out where we were going to how much I had to pay for something. At times I could do it using gestures but it was difficult. At least now I have had a crash course in speaking French and have learnt quite a bit through necessity.
Over the border we had about an hour of good road and about four hours of constant lurching due to pot holes or the necessary breaking for livestock, huge holes in the road and other cars. It was even more uncomfortable because three of us were sitting in two seats, which meant the whole time I was perched half on a wheel hub and half on a seat. I am not complaining though because the car was air conditioned and didn’t have to stop regularly for other passengers.
At one stage we stopped and stepped outside and it was like standing next to a wood fire that on high heat with the fan on full. I have never experienced anything that hot and can’t imagine how people survive in the little grass huts they live in.
We eventually got to Dakar at six thirty at night. A thirteen hour journey in the end – but the distance would probably only have been from Edenhope to Melbourne (I am not sure how far it is so I challenge you to look up Brikama and Dakar on the web!). Again negotiating finding your way through a foreign city without street or road signs and with crazy drivers was not easy but Adriana and Paulina managed it like pros. I was so impressed with them.
We left Dakar at seven thirty the next morning and hired a set plass (a station wagon – called a set plass because it is modified to carry seven passengers - seven places). We were joined for this leg of the journey by Mariella (another VSO) and her friend from Denmark. The journey to St Louis was long and hot (no air conditioning but I found out that four windows work just as well unless you are stopped), however the roads were amazing. We arrived in St Louis around two o’clock which gave us time for a snooze before exploring the town.
The ride home was even easier. We met up with a crew of Peace Corp and medical research volunteers from the Gambia so between the ten of us we hired a Gelli (a mini van that is modified to hold fourteen passengers – although this means cramming three to a seat and having one passenger on a make-shift fold down seat in each row). The road from St Louis to the Gambian border was fairly good although the last hour it was the nasty pot holed road we had on the way up. Unfortunately I was on the makeshift fold down seat which rocked from side to side. The combination of the seat and the road meant it was just like being in a boat on really stormy seas and I was thrown on to the girl beside me regularly until we jammed the seat with coke bottles (which still didn’t fix the problem but made it better).
At the border I was relieved not to be asked for the cards I left at home and we processed through even more quickly than on the way over. We then jammed into a bus/van vehicle and were pushed started (it is amazing that a van full of twenty to thirty people can be push started!) and drove the twenty minutes to Barra to catch the ferry. Katie and I eventually got home at seven thirty at night, having left St Louis at six am (again I am not sure how far it is from St Louis to Brikama but it will be good for your geography to check out the map).
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