I think Gambia may have just replaced Laos as the friendliest country I have ever visited. It helps that after several former French colonies I am now in a British one, so English is spoken by almost everyone and suddenly can communicate beyond the level of an inarticulate 5 year old.
First stop was the capital Banjul, but having discovered that Banjul is a quiet, dusty little place with less happening than Wellingborough, I headed down the coast to Kombo, the Gambian metropolis made up of several smaller towns. Chris and Sue, the British couple I met in Mauritania had very kindly said that if I came to Gambia I should stop with them, so following a hand drawn map that they had left for me I tracked them down to their apartment (managing to crash on the way on the sandy track up to their place). I have to say that they are both supremely hospitable (and guys if you are reading this and there is ever a way I can repay the favour I would love to!). As they live in Gambia for three months or so a year, they are honorary locals and were kind enough to take me around to their favourite haunts.
The main tourist area in Gambia is Senegambia. This is the area where most of the tourist hotels and restaurants are, and it is both a fun and slightly creepy place. On the fun side, Gambians are all extremely friendly, smiley and great to chat to. There is very little in the way of hassle and nowhere felt unsafe. On the creepy side, the place is rife with sex tourism. Bars are full of chubby white tourists in 1970s cologne eyeing up young Gambians desperate to either make some money or make an escape. And it is not just creepy old men - there are lots of rotund northern grannies walking hand in hand with twentysomething Gambian men with washboard stomachs and convincing fake smiles. Some of this is just harmless, but some of it seemed downright seedy, and you have to hope that a new president would be able to revitalise the economy to give these young people other way to get by.
Whilst in Kombo, I took the opportunity to check out some of the sights. First up was the Abuko National Park, a tiny park on the edge of the city teeming with colourful bird life (and also a sorry looking zoo with a couple of moth-eaten hyenas and some bored baboons). I got what is definitely my best photo so far (and sadly probably will remain so for the rest of the trip)l see if you can spot it. I then rode down the road to Lamin Lodge, a delightfully ramshackle wooden restaurant built on stilts amongst the mangrove swamps. Meals there are served with a large stick, so that you can fight off the thieving monkeys that will run in and steal anything they can get their stinking paws on. Last but not least, just down the coast from Kombo is the fishing village of Tanji, a hive of activity with hundreds of colourful boats coming in with their catches to be either transported directly or smoked in the village.
After Kombo, the plan was to head inland so I loaded up my hog and set off. Along the way I ran into a political rally for the opposition coalition. People there were very keen to talk to me about what my perception of Gambia was, and also to give me their views of the current situation. One girl told me that she had not seen her father in 10 years, as he had been forced into exile for his political views. You have to admire the courage of people who have experienced that kind of repression first hand and are still ready to risk everything by going out and campaigning against the incumbent.
Along the road there were police and army checkpoints every few kilometres, but far from being arduous or intimidating most of them went something along the lines of "how are you, I really like your bike". Then we would have a chat about my trip, shake hands and I would be off again. At one stop I even got told that I couldn't pass until I gave the female boss there my number...
My first stop inland was Tendaba, a camp on the riverbank that is hugely popular with bird spotters. One guy there told me he had seen 220 different species of bird in a week!. I didn't have quite the same luck, though I did score a different success by washing the motorbike trousers I have worn almost every day for a month for the first time. After that, it was on to Janjanbureh (aka Georgetown). I had hoped to see some hippos there but they were hiding when I went on a boat trip, so I swam in the river, took a cooking lesson and also visited the local historical sights. These were the Freedom Tree (a tree where after the British had abolished slavery, slaves could come from the French parts around and if they made it to the tree they could have their name registered and be set free apparently), and a slightly more dubious slave house (i.e. it was probably just a regular warehouse) which the guide tried to tell me was where they used to play a game with the slaves suspiciously similar to the one in the Jean Claude Van Damme film Hard Target...
First stop was the capital Banjul, but having discovered that Banjul is a quiet, dusty little place with less happening than Wellingborough, I headed down the coast to Kombo, the Gambian metropolis made up of several smaller towns. Chris and Sue, the British couple I met in Mauritania had very kindly said that if I came to Gambia I should stop with them, so following a hand drawn map that they had left for me I tracked them down to their apartment (managing to crash on the way on the sandy track up to their place). I have to say that they are both supremely hospitable (and guys if you are reading this and there is ever a way I can repay the favour I would love to!). As they live in Gambia for three months or so a year, they are honorary locals and were kind enough to take me around to their favourite haunts.
The main tourist area in Gambia is Senegambia. This is the area where most of the tourist hotels and restaurants are, and it is both a fun and slightly creepy place. On the fun side, Gambians are all extremely friendly, smiley and great to chat to. There is very little in the way of hassle and nowhere felt unsafe. On the creepy side, the place is rife with sex tourism. Bars are full of chubby white tourists in 1970s cologne eyeing up young Gambians desperate to either make some money or make an escape. And it is not just creepy old men - there are lots of rotund northern grannies walking hand in hand with twentysomething Gambian men with washboard stomachs and convincing fake smiles. Some of this is just harmless, but some of it seemed downright seedy, and you have to hope that a new president would be able to revitalise the economy to give these young people other way to get by.
Whilst in Kombo, I took the opportunity to check out some of the sights. First up was the Abuko National Park, a tiny park on the edge of the city teeming with colourful bird life (and also a sorry looking zoo with a couple of moth-eaten hyenas and some bored baboons). I got what is definitely my best photo so far (and sadly probably will remain so for the rest of the trip)l see if you can spot it. I then rode down the road to Lamin Lodge, a delightfully ramshackle wooden restaurant built on stilts amongst the mangrove swamps. Meals there are served with a large stick, so that you can fight off the thieving monkeys that will run in and steal anything they can get their stinking paws on. Last but not least, just down the coast from Kombo is the fishing village of Tanji, a hive of activity with hundreds of colourful boats coming in with their catches to be either transported directly or smoked in the village.
After Kombo, the plan was to head inland so I loaded up my hog and set off. Along the way I ran into a political rally for the opposition coalition. People there were very keen to talk to me about what my perception of Gambia was, and also to give me their views of the current situation. One girl told me that she had not seen her father in 10 years, as he had been forced into exile for his political views. You have to admire the courage of people who have experienced that kind of repression first hand and are still ready to risk everything by going out and campaigning against the incumbent.
Along the road there were police and army checkpoints every few kilometres, but far from being arduous or intimidating most of them went something along the lines of "how are you, I really like your bike". Then we would have a chat about my trip, shake hands and I would be off again. At one stop I even got told that I couldn't pass until I gave the female boss there my number...
My first stop inland was Tendaba, a camp on the riverbank that is hugely popular with bird spotters. One guy there told me he had seen 220 different species of bird in a week!. I didn't have quite the same luck, though I did score a different success by washing the motorbike trousers I have worn almost every day for a month for the first time. After that, it was on to Janjanbureh (aka Georgetown). I had hoped to see some hippos there but they were hiding when I went on a boat trip, so I swam in the river, took a cooking lesson and also visited the local historical sights. These were the Freedom Tree (a tree where after the British had abolished slavery, slaves could come from the French parts around and if they made it to the tree they could have their name registered and be set free apparently), and a slightly more dubious slave house (i.e. it was probably just a regular warehouse) which the guide tried to tell me was where they used to play a game with the slaves suspiciously similar to the one in the Jean Claude Van Damme film Hard Target...
