Senegal — aroundtheworldin-definitely

Bouncing along the pot-holed, dusty track towards Diama, the Mauritania-Senegal border post, we hoped we had chosen the right crossing. There are two main crossing points, Rosso with a long-standing reputation for corruption and aggression and Diama, still corrupt but with a smile. Our first “fee” was to the man manning the barrier into the compound. The time it took him to write out a receipt was just enough for the fixers and hawkers to arrive. We always knew that entering Senegal was going to be expensive given that we didn’t have a Carnet and Bob was going to be penalised for being a senior. Senegalese officials had seized upon an import regulation targeting vehicles over eight years old and were applying it to those entering the country on a temporary basis. The “fee” in Bob’s case was €250, followed by a further €60 for “mandatory” insurance (despite already having our own) and other incidentals, including a persistent fixer who had clearly mastered the art of not taking no for an answer. To add insult to injury, we then had to wait 3 hours for all the paperwork to be produced and stamped before we were permitted to enter Senegal.

Once free of the border we drove into a whole new world. Senegal, Africa’s westernmost country is often referred to as the “Gateway to Africa”, and stepping into it felt like a long exhale after holding one’s breath through the stripped-back intensity of Mauritania. A rich fusion of African, Islamic and French influences made Senegal feel less constrained and more expressive; colour and vibrancy everywhere we looked.

Despite economic hardship - more than a third of its 18 million citizens live below the poverty line - Senegal remains a beacon of peace in West Africa, having never experienced a coup or civil war. Its main industries are as diverse as its landscapes; mining, tourism, agriculture, fishing and the humble peanut, which is one of Senegal’s largest food exports.

The cultural tapestry is woven primarily with the Wolof people (40%), but also includes Fulani, Serer, Mandinka, Jola and Soninke groups. And, although around 95% of the population are Muslim, this wasn’t the more rigid Islam that we had witnessed in Northern Africa. Sufi mysticism, with its emphasis on art, music and inner peace has created a version of Islam where men and women interact freely and any veils worn seem more Vogue that virtue.

Once across the border we knew exactly where we were going – the Zebrabar, a Swiss owned and run, campground and restaurant situated directly on the beach just south of the city of Saint-Louis. Named by blending zebra (symbolising Africa) and Njagabar (Wolof for pelican), it offered peace, alcohol, showers and good company. It was also the perfect opportunity to relieve Bob of the half ton of Sahara that he had smuggled out - a job that took both of us two days!!.

We had now crossed into the Sahel, a transitional semi-arid zone where the desert shrugs off its dryness and starts flirting with the savannah. Inland wetlands dot the scrubby plains, attracting migrating birds by the million. Literally. The Djoudj National Bird Sanctuary, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, is the third-largest bird reserve in the world. Here, up to three million birds rest and breed between November to April.

We explored it by boat with Vivienne, a French traveller researching the Senegalese dance scene, and were soon in the middle of thousands of pelicans. Giant, ungainly birds, gathered around a bare mud bank fondly known as the nursery. The creche was chaotic, flapping wings, oversized beaks and gutteral squawks used for vocal recognition. Given that these guys eat up to 1.8 kg of fish each per day we could only guess at how many fish there were beneath the brown waters of the river.

Other species included Flamingos, Whistling Ducks, Eurasian Spoonbills, Egrets, African Fish Eagles, Yellow-billed Storks. Herons and Kingfishers who were only just recovering from a vicious bout of bird flu that swept the area a few years ago. Huge construction works involving a network of embankments, sluice gates and canals have been necessary to maintain the seasonal rhythms of the delta’s waterways following the building of the Diama Dam just north of Senegal’s historic city of Saint-Louis. In the last couple of years drones have been introduced to obtain detailed ecological monitoring and mapping and from what we could gather bird numbers have increased and the Sanctuary is no longer on the World Heritage “In Danger” list.

Just a short taxi ride from the Zebrabar and we were in Saint-Louis, a faded colonial beauty, undeniably worn at the edges but still with an air of elegance. Split across two long islands and joined to the mainland by the 507m Faidherbe Bridge designed and constructed by Gustave Eiffel’s company. A much loved story which is probably not true, is that the bridge was destined for the Danube River in Romania or Austria, but due to a shipping error ended up in Saint-Louis instead. The bridge is the only real landmark of this former colonial capital which offers shabby chic at its finest. Crumbling French villas with wrought iron balconies still line the urban grid of streets where, deteriorating with dignity, they now house cafes, wine bars and art studios.

Curiosity led us - perhaps foolishly - into Dakar, Africa’s westernmost capital famous for the Paris-Dakar rally. An annual off-road endurance race that began in 1978 with 170 adventurers driving 10,000 km over challenging desert terrain. The race garnered world-wide interest when in 1982 the Iron Lady’s son went MIA after the axel on his Peugeot broke and his whereabouts were unknown for 6 days before being found by Algerian border guards. Regardless, the race continued until security concerns in Mauritania saw the event moved to South America in 2008 and subsequently to Saudi Arabia where it is still going strong.

The city was thick with chaotic traffic. Honking horns, no recogniseable traffic system, speeding scooters and livestock all over the place. As far as we could make out Bob was the only vehicle without major body damage. Apart from getting the bikes nudged at one particularly chaotic junction, we made it into Les Alemaides, the Embassy district, unscathed which was a miracle.

Determined to explore, we took to the dirty streets. Dodging traffic whilst trying to escape the persistent street hawkers was made more difficult by Google Maps being as confused as we were. Eventually, we made it to The Marche HLM; it was an explosion of colour, bolts of wax print fabric stacked metres high, seamstresses and their sewing machines at the ready, wigs, hair pieces and entire aisles dedicated to padded underwear. Trading directions for a shirt, we entered through a hole in the wall to a smoky basement eatery. Squeezing onto a bench seat around one of the many communal tables we were served with charred meat skewers, caramelised onions out of small paper bags and bagettes. The fact that Ramadam was still ongoing didn’t seem to be affecting the flow of food consumption, perhaps another example of the elasticity of Senegalese Islam.

The reality of Dakar is a city that is hot, filthy, polluted, crumbling and crowded but there is an undeniable resilience amongst its 4 million residents as they take to the streets trying to eke a living. When it was time for us to leave, which involved hours of sitting in one traffic jam after another, we could literally have furnished a house as one hawker after another filed past us offering everything from children’s furniture, kitchenware, bedding and electrical goods to board games and a range of footwear for every occasion.

Ile d’Ngor is a tiny island just 10 minutes by Pirogue off Dakar’s north shore and a world away from the bustling city. It was an incongruous little place full of cool, shade wearing, dreadlocked rasta guys who invited us to “chill” on the battered sun loungers while they dished up cocktails and Reggae. Happy to go with the flow, we sipped and swayed before retiring at the end of the day to our Bob Marley themed accommodation complete with full-size cardboard piano, swan-shaped towels and an astroturf patio.

Ile de Goree, in contrast, was deeply sobering. From the 15th to 19th century, it was the largest slave-trading post on Africa’s west coast, ruled in succession by the Portuguese, Dutch, English and French. The island is just 900m long and 300m wide and owes its dark history to its geographical position and safe harbour for anchoring ships. Today the pink-washed Maison des Esclaves (House of Slaves) is a powerful memorial to the transatlantic slave trade. The tiny, dark holding cells with their chains and shackles and the infamous “Door of No Return” stand as a stark monument to human cruelty. Yet today, Goree has reclaimed its soul. Artists sell their work beheath bougainvillea and the cobbled lanes hum with creativity, not sorrow.

One thing we hadn’t expected in Senegal was wildlife and although some iconic species such as the giraffe are now extinct they have been successfully re-introduced into reserves, one of which is the wildlife park of Bandia. Best described as a mini safari, it was way better than we were expecting and our 90-minute drive with English-speaking guide got us extremely close to some of the park’s residents namely the afore-mentioned giraffe, zebra, buffalo, hyena, warthogs, ostrich and a variety of antelope, monkeys and even crocodiles. The highlight though was a couple of enormous white rhino who were so close to the open-sided safari vehicle that we could have reached out and touched them. With their horns removed for protection both from poachers and each other we were disheartened to learn that despite continued attempts from the grumpy looking male, the female had no desire whatsoever to mate – perhaps AGSOH was more important than size!

Continuing down the coast we arrived at the tourist-oriented town of Saly, where endless white sand beaches dotted with thatched beach huts showed yet another side to Senegal. Tourists aside, the beach was a great place to observe local life and the strong community spirit that is such a large part of the country’s culture. Whether launching one of the many colourful boats, pulling in fishing nets, executing training drills, playing football or just catching up on the local gossip, it all takes place on the beach.

Up to this point our only interaction with authority had been at the border but as we were leaving town we were pulled over by the local police and asked for our documentation. There was no excuse – yes, it was hot and yes, I didn’t particularly like the attitude of the officious uniformed guard banging on Bob’s window – but what followed was a prime example of how not to travel through Africa. Firstly, I was fined for not wearing a seatbelt (fair enough) but then I was fined for insubordination (really!!!). This was followed by a bit of a stand-off which wasn’t going to achieve anything other than us remaining at the side of the road, possibly for days. Grudgingly, we handed over the requested equivalent of €15 and drove off. Less than 20 minutes later we were pulled over again. Not wanting a repeat performance, seatbelts were now firmly in place and we wound down the windows with rigid smiles fixed to our faces. It was obviously fund-raising day for the local gendarmerie and in accordance with the checklist attached to his clipboard, the officer progressed down his list asking for this and that, all of which we produced in an ingratiatingly pleasant manner. Starting to look a bit crestfallen at a missed opportunity to raise revenue, his eyes alighted on what looked to be the last item on his sheet – did we have a fire extinguisher? Reaching under Bob’s seat this was also produced and with a sulky and abrupt “you can go”, we were dismissed. To a large extent, you make your own luck when travelling through Africa, rules change depending on the mood of the official and any situation can quickly deteriorate depending on the exchange of communication. A few days later we came across a Dutch couple in a massive MAC truck. Following their refusal to pay €20 for some minor discrepancy they had been detained for three days, an experience that had shaken them up so much they had been in the same camping spot for the last 12 months. They had abandoned all plans to travel further south and were soon to be heading home.

Our final destination iwas Eden Encampement, another overlanding stop well placed to explore the Sine Saloum Delta - a waterlogged UNESCO treasure of over 180,000 hectares formed by the confluence of the Sine and Saloum rivers. Leaving Bob parked at the camp, we took a taxi to the village of Ndangane from where we boarded a pirogue to one of the ecolodges lining the banks of the delta. A boat from the lodge took us further into the delta where we cut through mangrove forests, salt flats and sand banks, all home to an incredible array of birds, marine life and honeybees.

Senegal lost 25% of its mangroves between 1970 and 2008 due to droughts and deforestation but restoration efforts, led by Oceanium and locals, have created the largest mangrove reforestation project in the world. With new agricultural practices being introduced, it is hoped that the harvesting of mangrove honey and swamp oysters – both important to local communities – can continue in a sustainable manner.

Another important source of income in the area is salt, the pools used for traditional harvesting creating a most unusual landscape. The colours of the pools are caused by varying salinity levels, microorganisms and sunlight reflection on the mineral-rich water. Seasonal floods and tidal flows fill hundreds of hand dug-out pools before the process of evaporation produces salt. Harvesting the salt is primarily women’s work, the salt crystals collected out of the ponds are dried and then stored inside little thatched huts before being transported to the refinery where they are prepared for sale. Senegal is the largest salt producer in west Africa mining over 450,000 tonnes every year, with small-scale enterprises responsible for around one third of the country’s production. It’s a tough way to make a living; the salt is abrasive and heavy to move around, particularly under a hot sun where annual average temperatures are around 35°C and the women working the ponds often have babies slung across their backs. And yet, the Sine Saloum area is a uniquely peaceful place, its people relying on centuries-old practices to derive an existence from the sensitive environment and the slow pace of life is finely attuned to the nature surrounding it.

Senegal has been the most diverse country of our journey so far - wildlife, history, culture and colour in abundance - and not without its challenges. It isn’t easy to travel through extreme poverty and a concerning issue for us has been how to respond to the constant requests from barefoot, street children asking for cadeaux (gifts). Having broached this topic with other overlanders, the over-riding consensus is that giving reinforces dependency and fuels bigger problems, especially when it comes to talibes, the issue of which is a significant social challenge in Senegal. Talibes are children sent by their families to daaras (Islamic religious schools) to live and study the Qur’an. Traditionally meant to be a positive religious and educational experience, many of these children are now sent to beg on the streets for daily quotas of money or food. Many live in poor conditions without adequate food, shelter or medical care and often receive physical punishment. There is no easy answer to this and as we witness first-hand the challenges that exist we are reminded that our curiosity is a privilege that comes with responsibility.

aroundtheworldin-definitely

aroundtheworldin-definitely

Western Africa Blogs

aroundtheworldin-definitely

aroundtheworldin-definitely