In the land... of Senegambia (page 2 of 5)

I’d be tempted to say you’re never bored with Christelle’s travel journals!

Aaaaah, there you are at last, Pascale, it was about time! 😄

And I admit, Bruno, it doesn’t exactly scream "travel routine" around here either 😅

Day 4 in Banjul

Friends, let me tell you, ALLAH is great today (in every sense of the word 😂)

I didn’t know Allah worked as a baggage handler too 😅.

Anyway, day 4 still 😊. And after all this time carrying around Lulu the jinx, haven’t you ever thought about carry-on luggage? 😄

Oh yeah, it’s versatile—ALLAH and "Lulu the jinx," I love it 🤣

The worst part is my backpack/suitcase totally fits in the cabin, but they insisted I check it in 🤦. At least I had my swimsuit with me—hardly need anything else 😂

Well, now that the luggage is retrieved, it's time to delve into the heart of the country 😉

The plan is to soak up some rural life in a small village of 700 inhabitants, surrounded by mangroves and bordered by a *bolong*!

You know, the kind of word you read everywhere when planning your trip but had never heard before. Basically, in this part of the world, it’s thousands of rivers winding through the mangroves. And while we’ve explored them by boat before, this is the first time we’ll be spending the night there.

So, it’s the "Bintang Bolong Lodge" that’s hosting us—but a *very* "authentic" lodge, if you catch my drift: cabins on the water, yes, but wobbly walkways, flickering lights, and tons of insects of all kinds as soon as night falls (in the room too, yeah, a little 😄), but thankfully, no mosquitoes.

But don’t expect a silent retreat here. We’re right next to a village, and an African village *lives* and *shouts*, especially in the late afternoon 😵.

So, while my sharpshooter king settles by the water to admire the little birds, I’m feeling the urge to test out the local vibe.



As soon as we step out, it starts with a few guys chatting under a sacred tree

(I actually have no idea, but it sells the scene 😏)

And before I know it, I’m spotted: "Hello, hello, photo, photo....." and yeah, a bit of "sweets, sweets," but not even a "money, money" 😄.

Kids are splashing around in the water, and the show begins: some acrobatics,



a photo shoot with multiple models,



a hair-braiding session on a willing head (that’d be me 😄), then the two older girls take charge and whisk us off to a playground.

As usual, I let myself be guided.

One of them spreads a cloth on the sidewalk and tells me to sit on it before lining up a bunch of little ones to my right and left.

Well, apparently, there’s gonna be a show!

But not with a ball—just a flip-flop!!

And then, big throwback to childhood—I got a full demonstration of *dodgeball* 🤾.

Really a great time with great company... that grew *a lot* 🥳. I wonder if the muezzin called them in because, by the end, it felt like every kid in the village had joined us 😏. My fingers still remember it because I had a little one clinging to each hand every time I took three steps 😄.



But the next morning, a different kind of show awaits me: nature waking up. I settle on the dock in the warm, pitch-black night, savoring the real silence under a sliver of a moon. Then the mosque starts singing, almost like a starting signal: roosters launch into their polyphonic serenades, the *pious pious* birds chirp away, howler monkeys in the distance sound the alarm... and the local donkey belts out a big *hee-haw* 😵. The colors are stunning, but not for long because the sky’s still pretty cloudy.



Then the fishermen parade by the dock with their daily catch: tilapia and crabs, from what I saw.

And some of them throw me a funny little comment as they pass, like "Careful, the crocodile’s gonna eat you" 😄.

But as you know, everything in life has an explanation: if the welcome here is so warm, it’s because our visit benefits the whole village.



And that really was the icing on the cake. 🍰

Day 4 in Banjul

Friends, I tell you, ALLAH is great today (and in every sense of the word 😂)



Cool... you're traveling really light! Won’t that fit in carry-on?

The worst part is that my bag/suitcase fits perfectly in the cabin, but they insisted on putting it in the hold 🤦‍♂️.

Oh no! It’s really not cool that they forced you to check it 😢

Cool... you travel really light! Won’t that fit in a carry-on?

Yes, Isabelle, for the first time, I managed to leave for 15 days with just a "carry-on" sized bag—I was pretty proud of myself. And now I’m even prouder since I ended up surviving with just a handbag for 4 days: thanks TAP 🤲🏽🤲🏼

After this immersion in Gambian nature, we decide to change things up... and even countries 😜.

Heading to Ziguinchor, in Senegal, in a region called Casamance that a friend had told us about a loooong time ago with stars in their eyes.

But before that, we have to cross the border, and we know it can be quite the "sport"!

Like endless negotiations until you discreetly slip them a little (or big) bill! And there are only 3 land borders over 300 km. We cross our fingers not to spend the whole day there 🤞. Well, at the same time, it can’t be worse than what they go through crossing *our* border, if you catch my drift!

Our first task is to find a car to get to the Gambian border post, and it’s Abdallah who steps up... in his gleaming Golf GTI with 465,500 km on the clock—yes, really!!

With the same engine, he tells us! And honestly, apart from the dashboard flashing everywhere, it went smoothly 😄.



Okay, from here, we just have to go with the flow... again!

While we imagined a crowded road teeming with people, we’re almost alone on the tarmac when Abdallah tells us we’re arriving in 1 minute!!

Then he stops in a village of 10 houses, with a few vendors by the roadside, and says, "Here it is!"

Oh right, we hadn’t noticed—a little house labeled "border police," with only 4 people in line!

Of course, we get a few looks as we step out of the car. So, Charles and Camilla make a comeback and wave at the crowd 😆.

We join the single-file line and wait... less than a minute before an officer comes over and says, "Come with me!"

Uh-oh, that’s not a great sign—being led to a hidden corner 😬!

But we don’t really have a choice, so we go inside the house and walk through several rooms to reach the "boss’s" office, as they say, who’s indeed sitting among piles of papers with all his decorations.

Well, here we are!

Cricri flashes her brightest smile, and Lulu fires up the "joke machine":

The boss: "Hello, how are you?"

Lulu: "Ugh, not great—we’re really sad to leave Gambia."

"Oh really, you liked it?"

"Oh yeah, the people are so nice—we’ll definitely be back."

There you go! Without even having to lie, in 2 minutes, we had our stamps—cooool 🤙.

Then Abdallah tells us to get back in the car. But after a few meters, we hear, "Get out here to go see the military." Oh!

Sure enough, there are 3 soldiers under a "bus shelter."

So you show up not knowing why, greeting them cheerfully with a "Hellooo 😄," and just as they respond, I hear Lulu:

"Oh, your FAMAS is so cool. Reminds me of my military service—I loved shooting with one..." and so on.

Two minutes later, it was over—they just wanted to check our car, apparently 😜.

We get back in the car when Abdallah does it again:

"Get out here and go see the customs officers" (🙄 seriously, isn’t this mess over yet 😄?).

No stamps this time either. They just asked where we were going:

"Oh, it’s really nice there."

"Oh, you know the area? Well, if we run into you in the village, we’ll have a beer together—maybe even several 🍻!"

And the guys laugh. Done! YAY!!! 🤙🍺😆.

It’s 1 PM, 35°C with high humidity—we’re dripping, and ahead of us, a long, deserted road lined with vegetation.

"So, Abdallah?"

"Well, now we have to go 3 kilometers to reach the Senegalese border."

"Uhhh, on foot 😱????"

"No, no, get in—I’m allowed to take you."

Phew 🤦‍♂️😄.

I won’t rehash the skit of our entry into Senegal—several stops too, but no issues. And best of all, no more struggling with my terrible English... since we’re leaving English-speaking Gambia for French-speaking Senegal (yes, thanks to the colonists who split a country in two in 1783).

Too bad our new driver only speaks Wolof 😆. But he was a champion at dodging the craters on the "road" we discovered right after the border!

Because really, the roads here have about as much in common with Gambia’s... as day does with night 😱🤪😄.

It’s always a pleasure to flip through Christelle’s travel journals 😊 But on the other hand, it doesn’t exactly make you want to hit the road with her!! Never a shiny van or a car that isn’t 50 years old! Is it because of the places you’re sharing with us, or do you choose them on purpose? 😜

I’ll admit, Bruno, a vehicle for me is just to get from point A to point B, and since we don’t plan our routes much, we mostly take what we find 😄. We had a nice car when we arrived in Banjul, but I don’t see the point in telling our friends and family what they see everywhere back home 😅

a vehicle for me is just to get from point A to point B

Yeah, but with the vehicles you take, it’s not a sure thing! 😎

Oh nooo, Muriel, you just gotta trust the "African MacGyver genius"—in Casamance, we had a mechanical issue. The driver stopped, popped the hood, and whacked something in the engine with a hammer, and we were on our way again, no problem 😂.

You just can’t be worried about losing a wheel or a bolt along the way, that’s all 😆.

Here, it’s the philosophy: "what’s meant to happen, happens"!

for the first time, I managed to travel for 15 days with a "carry-on sized" bag

Hi Christelle,

I’m still in Thailand, but I’m mentally teleporting myself to Gambia during my layover between two destinations ;) It was actually after my fourth mishap like yours that I decided to travel light. A carry-on bag and a small backpack are more than enough for me since I get my clothes washed at hotels. I also protest when they try to put our bags in the hold—but it’s useless :mad:

Hey Kate

I love the idea that you’ve got your feet in Thailand and your head a bit here with us in Africa 😄. Have a great trip—you’ll have to tell us all about it! 😊

I love your travel journals! So original, in places I’d definitely never set foot—well, not as a first choice anyway 😏

Plus, I learn so much: for me, Bintang was just the Balinese beer...

And then you learn so much: for me, Bintang was the Balinese beer...

No, but LOL Pascale, we know "Bintang" after 4 trips to Indonesia, but we never made the connection! The AI says there’s no link between the two, but it’s too bad—it would’ve been fun to discover that 😄

Ziguinchor, I loooove it! 🎭😃



After this border-crossing journey, we arrive in the capital of Casamance, right by the river of the same name.



And even though we hadn’t booked anything, it felt like the Hôtel du Perroquet was waiting for us.



Right away, we understood why we hadn’t seen many birds in Gambia: apparently, they all had a meet-up here 😄! Barely arrived at the hotel, just by looking up, we saw dozens of them perched on a majestic tree, or sometimes in their nests. But not just little birds, no. Cormorants, white herons, red-headed storks, and huge pelicans 🦢. And it’s like this everywhere along the river. Let’s just say we weren’t expecting that in a city of 200,000 people!!



Truth be told, Ziguinchor isn’t exactly "Instagrammable"—it’s very much its own thing—but for our first taste of Casamance and before heading to the coast, we were looking for a truly local vibe. And we definitely found it.











There’s tourism here, sure, but it’s the kind we relate to. The kind that doesn’t see a difference between a Senegalese taxi driver and a French hotel owner. That’s how we met Simon, a 68-year-old Irishman who left Kenya to ride all around Africa on his mega dirt bike 🏍️😲👍!! Such humility and a beautiful mindset that gave us some great lessons in humanity 😊.

It was a really pleasant stop, especially since the locals we met love to joke around, and it’s definitely easier for us in French. Proof with Habib, the adorable moto-taxi driver who’s a big fan of the good Lord (I’m sure nothing bad could happen to me with a sign like that 😂)

Before leaving the capital of Casamance, a few words about its memorial,



a building that commemorates one of the worst maritime disasters, the sinking of the ship *Le Joola*, which connected Ziguinchor to Dakar and went down in September 2002 off the coast of The Gambia, claiming 1,863 lives (more than the Titanic, yes).



Many of the victims were residents of Ziguinchor. I knew about this terrible tragedy, but I didn’t realize this memorial had been built—and I can tell you, it really hits you in the gut when you understand what it’s about!

Today, the maritime route between Ziguinchor and Dakar still exists, though under very different conditions, of course. The current ship is called *Aline Sitoé Diatta* (named after a historic figure of Casamance resistance) and makes the trip twice a week in 15 hours of sailing.