Teepee For My Bunghole

Okay, so I’m in Dakar center right now and and I did get hassled a little but I didn’t get mugged, I didn’t get shot or stabbed. What I did get, ladies and guzzies, is a wee bit of a plan.

Up to now my plans were kind of sketchy. I had the rough idea that I wanted to get to Ghana but without enough time and there were all these other countries I had to consider and maybe cross. Mali, Guinea Bissau, Burkino Faso, Guinea. All a little confusing for little ol’ me. I figured I wanted to stick to nice coastal parts because I’m more of a water than a desert person. Even more confusing is when someone wysed me of the Cape Verde Islands which seemed right up me alley.

But since it is islands (duh), it is surrounded by water (double duh) and getting there was looking to be a bit tough. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I just spoke to someone today who gave me the idea that I could go with them in about a month. I even get to help them fix the boat up beforehand. Double extra super dooper stoked!

Now I go off to buy a ferry trip to the Casamance region of Senegal for another week or two on the beach, after which I return here to mould myself into a sea dog. This is going to be fucking great!

I finally got my arse out of St Louis. Went a couple of days to Zebrabar which is a Swiss run camp in one of the bird parks near St Louis and then missioned here to Yoff this morning. Yoff is just outside Dakar.

People said we should stay outside Dakar because its busy, crime-ridden and generally just better to avoid. Anyway, I need to do some stuff there so I’m starting my missions in tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll be on my way outta here by Friday night.

Well, that’s it really. Nothing interesting to say, just wanted to make you wys that I’m travelling again – oh, there’s the possiblity that I might acquire a camera here – and well… I just did that.

Err…

Erm… I think here’s the part where you think insignificant thoughts about awkward silences.

Err…

Well, at least the next post should be more interesting. If I don’t get slaughtered in Dakar, that is.

In my last post I forgot to mention some things, including the main reason I wrote the post. I meant to speak a bit about the taxis that give you a ride for the 3 to 4km to Hydrobase. It’s one road, so they go back along the same road and you’d think that after taking the taxi about 10 to 15 times, that I’d have taken the same one more than once at some point. I haven’t.

This is the strange fact that motivated that whole long previous post because its something I wonder on every second day as I shuttle through all the horse carts and goats and people and fish trucks and smoke and cattle to do my shopping/internet/eating in the ville. This morning I lay in bed very worried that I might actually catch the one of my previous taxis and make this post less true. I would have lied in that case of course but it turns out that I don’t have to; I still haven’t caught the same taxi twice in this short stretch of single road.

My theory is that the cars die off so quickly that there is a fresh batch every day. And I’m using the word ‘fresh’ in the broadest sense of the word because if you see the state of these nailed together rust heaps, you’ll realise my theory isn’t so far fetched. I’ve twice been in a taxi that broke down and once in one that I had to help push start. The speedbumps along the way seem like mountains to the shattered state of the taxi and its passengers always eye them with a certain amount of trepidation.

Anyways (do I use ‘anyway’ to change subjects a lot?), the other thing I forgot to mention was my cell number.

00221 3513189

I don’t actually know if international sms’s work because I’ve sent a few and gotten no replies. But that could just be me.

Since I got roughly 5 minutes to be constructive, I might as well explain how to get to where I’m staying here in St. Louis.

First you got to get to the city of Sor which is in the north of Senegal on the coast. In Sor, you cross over the bridge to the island of St Louis with its old colonial buildings and tranquil streets. Well, tranquil unless you get hassled by millions of salesmen wanting to give you friendly advice you don’t need or great bargains you don’t want to buy.

The city isn’t too bad but we’re looking for the nice beaches (which around here means ‘not unbelievably filthy’). So cross over the next bridge and take a left. You’re now on a tongue of land between the other side of the Senegal river and the ocean. Keep going left for 3 or 4km. If you’re driving, be careful of the people around the port, the goats, the tracks picking up fish, the people on bicycle and the crabs scuttling across the road.

If you’re walking, please consider taking the taxi for a mere 125CFA because frankly the walk is crowded, dirty and smelly for the first 2kms. After the port and the cemetery, the walk is only disgusting if you walk right right next to the riverbank and see what’s been dumped there (or someone taking a dump).

Anyway, after 3 or 4 Km the road takes a turn at the curio shop and you’ll see a cheap restaurant (that serves great yassa poulet), a shop and Papayer. Papayer is at once a bar, a cabaret and a nightclub (the bouncer is a huge fan of Lucky Dube). Friday nights you’ll be able to see a variety of characters including some Senegalese dressed up as American Hip Hoppers and French Stellas trying to Get Their Groove Back. Locals are mostly glad to help.

Anyway, just keep going pass the back of Papayer where the nightclub is, and you see a sign saying Campement Kumba. This camp is set apart from its neighbours by the fact that it has electricity and running water. Cabins even have on-suites. The cabin I’m in is set apart from the other one we checked out by the fact that it has a seat on the toilet. Yep, welcome to the lap of luxury.

There’s only sand between you and the ocean and not much to distract you from the absolutely serious business of being a beach bum. Yes, life is hard.

It looks like I’m going to be here in St. Louis for while. I haven’t anywhere else stoking me to move on and staying in a cabin on a beach is just too damn nice. Makes you feel very little like being constructive.

The area I’m in (Hydrobase) is outside the city so I have to go into the ville for shopping, internet, budget eating and other such stuff.

I even found a surfboard in the camp. One of those heavy ones, not made of fibreglass, for beginners. So I ended up surfing in ridiculously small waves off a sandbank. There is no wax on the board so so I was sliding all over it and I had to hold on tight because there was no leash and so if I let go of it I would have to swim after the board. So I looked a bit like an idiot but I enjoyed myself. I even managed to catch some white water and get up on one knee. As always, stoked.

Tomorrow I’m going to try putting some candle wax on the board. Well, if I feel that contructive…

Me and this Kiwi bra checked out all the auberges and campsites on the beach and found an auberge for really cheap and not too far away. I wish I could show you pictures but at the moment I have to skud with my memory card and hope to run into other mense with cameras that take this memory card. It hasn’t happened so far. I expected it to be hard because, let’s face it, going up to tourists and asking them to give you their camera is a sure-fire method of some misunderstandings. Of course, there is a slight possibility that I would end up with a camera I didn’t pay for.

The water is nice and warm but there are no waves but I’ve also got a lead on some surf camps down south – hopefully near some easy spots. It’s about 200Euro for a week including breakfast and another meal so it’s relatively cheap. Well, if I was back home it would be cheap but travelling makes you into a bit of a miser through necessity so I’m still checking if it’s within my budget. Hopefully I can maybe do some bargaining. Meanwhile I’ll just lam [relax] here by the beach and wander around look for tourist to harass for their cameras.

Today I’m also gonna do some shopping for the rest of my cooking utensils and some of the ingredients. I realised in Mauritania that cooking for myself would save some money sometimes and bought myself one of these tiny little camping gas stoves. Those of you who realise that West Africa can be dangerous to travel, will now realise it just got a little more dangerous with me cooking. And it’s going to be actual food rather just opening cans or frying stuff.

I already have a teaspoon and one pot, so here is the rest of my shopping list:

• cup
• knife
• fork
• table spoon
• maybe a tiny cutting board
• oil
• containers for oil
• dishwashing liquid
• cloth
• small packets of salt, pepper, cumin, ginger
• garlic
• pasta
• small tins of tomato paste
• sardines
• tuna
• cans of vegetables

Anything else I should get?

The geography of St Louis is pretty messed up so try to check it on a map. It’s sorta an island in the mouth of a river. So you cross a bridge to get to it but then after there is a bridge to what I thought was another island but turns out to be a tongue of land wrapping out from the mainland.

Now I came to St Louis thinking it was a beach place I could chill at so I was pretty disapointed by the filth of the surrounding water. But, hey, the city is pretty cool. Relaxed people in amongst old colonial houses with restaurants and places to listen to music.

Senegal is, of course, famous for music and for its slinky elegant woman whose walk makes your neck ache from moving side to side to side to side to side…

Now where was I? Anyway, I was almost going to leave when someone wysed [told] me about a nice beach at the end of the tongue of land. I had to cross the second bridge and take a taxi there. When I got there I went a bit befuck to tell you the truth. Nice long stretch of gorgeous white-ish beach and picturesque treeline.

Now I’m planning to spend a week here in a hut/cabin on the beach. It’ll be more basic but slightly cheaper (and normal cheap if I go even more basic or if me and the Kiwi guy find a third person to share a spot). It’s either 10000 CFA or 5000 CFA for a spot that can take 2 to 3 people. 1000 CFA is about 1.5 Euro. Huge difference in price but it means electricity and normal toilet in the cabin compared to the old school loos and bucket showers. But no matter which place we take, there’s only sand between us and the ocean.

Quick notes on Senegal:

• Brilliant change borders and seeing the change from desert to green lands!
• St Louis quite chilled
• Lots of kids about who like seeing their pictures after you take it
• Fscking camera broke. Ironically probably from sand now that I’ve left the sandy area.

The broken camera is going to be a bitch.

Getting across at the border at Rosso is hectic enough for me to write some detailed info to help others. Remember throughout the process that you have enough time to get to St Louis in the same day so don’t feel rushed at any point except to start early from Nouakchott.

1. In Nouakchott, you need to get a taxi to Gare Rosso which is a standard price of 1000 ougiya. Its quite a long ride so worth the price.
2. At Gare Rosso expect to pay anything from 1400 to 3000 ougiya depending on the seating. I paid 3000 because it was the next car leaving and I wanted to catch up with the Japanese guy I was supposed to meet earlier but was late for. I sat nice and comfortable for a relatively fast trip. I even overtook the squashed up Japanese guy who paid 1400 ougiyah.
3. At border the drop you some distance from the gates and you get people trying to get you to change money on the way. Don’t. Go through the gates with your passport, you might even get a policeman meeting you before the gates to take your passport and you through (so that he can be the policeman to try his luck).
4. Now the Mauritanian police or the one who escorted you will try to get 1000 ougiya off you for ‘administrative purposes’. I just flatly refused to pay and waited till they gave me a stamp – they tried to make me think that between 12 and 3 they are closed and the 1000 would remedy that. Tell them you checked with the embassy beforehand – that worked for other people. I used stubborness rather than brains.
5. In between all this there are people trying to ‘help’ you and other people trying to sell you tickets for baggage on the ferry. Don’t pay anything to anyone.
6. I dunno how the ferry works, but I took a pirogue (small boat) filled with people across for 200 ougiyah. You could probably pay less. Bargain with the guy before getting on. You can always wait for another boat across the Senegal river. Beautiful short trip, by the way
7. On the Senegal side I got pulled straight into an office by the policeman who wanted to charge me 20 Euro to get my entry stamp. I just refused to pay. This time I had enough brains to tell them I checked with the embassy beforehand. They told me the embassy lied to me. I went back to just being stubborn. Then came some dialogue where deportation and the trip back to Mauritania amongst other blatant lies were mentioned. Eventually they just gave me the entry stamp. Don’t leave without this stamp, your passport will be checked later when you leave the town outside the border. Don’t piss these guys off either, they just looked like the type that can get hardcore.
8. Now you can change ougiya to cfa (pronounced safa). The exchange guys will probably be right next to you from the time you got off the boat anyway. Know the rate more or less beforehand.
9. I mostly didn’t give in to the corruption due to a very simple reason: I didn’t have the money. A Peruvian guy went through the day before and was good enough to send me an email with all the charges and details. And being me, I went there with just enough ougiya. I also had a 50 Euro in my pocket but that was if things really went bad.
10. So the exchange guys were boggled that I only had 1000 ougiyah to change. The taxis to St Louis are down the road for the border and I had just enough to get one of the bigger ones.
11. The smaller ones take 7 people (3000 cfa) and the bigger ones (1500 cfa) take eleven people. Included in the price is the 1000 cfa for baggage that is negotiable. I also met up with the Japanese guy and we waited in one of the big taxis. Stupidly we waited for about 4 hours for it to fill up while two smaller ones left already. Eventually we decided to take a smaller one (I lent some cash from him) after a bit of discussion between the smaller and bigger taxi drivers when we changed.
12. The trip to St Louis was about 3 hours and in St Louis we caught a taxi for 400 cfa to get to our auberge – tired, dirty and hungry.

Quite hectic but mostly it just needed some patience in amongst chaos and some confidence in your own position. Very difficult when it’s actual border police trying to screw you.

So tomorrow its off to Senegal and aiming to get to St. Lois. Apparently Senegal will be more expensive so I don’t know how long I’ll hang around there. Anyway, let me sum up some goede [things] on Mauritania.

Its a nice country, I like it here. The people are friendly and happy to just chat if they can and they’re pretty laid back. Back home we know vokol about Mauritania and its main tourists seem to be people driving through to Senegal or Mali usually to sell older cars from Europe. There’s also a lot of of French package tourists who fly in and hire a car and driver to gallivant around the desert. (Don’t you just love that word ‘gallivant’?)

Well more people should be coming here because I liked it a whole lot. It’s a desert buzz with an authentic feel and the travellers I’ve been meeting are an interesting bunch because, let’s face it, if you’re not a package tourist here, you’re on a moersie [big] mission.

It’s also interesting to see the border between the Arabs and Black Africa in action and although I haven’t liked everything I’ve seen, it’s still an interesting melange of cultures.

Generally though, the desert people are fscking fantastic, no matter what their heritage. Mauritania is one of those countries that could help lead in the African Renaissance and is an easy introduction for any traveller to Africa. They seem at the edge of being a great country and it seems to be going in the right direction.

Will I come back? Hell yes! Next time with a GPS, 4X4, sandboard and a surfboard.