Author: Keith

Paddy’s day ended up being a bit of a mess. Colm and I started off by rallying the troops to partake in a day long celebration of Celtic mysticism. We set off at midday to a beach-bar for our first refreshments accompanied by our Jesus Freaks buddies.

We also managed to recruit two German twins into our group to drive us around in their huge Mercedes overland truck. These guys were a dead ringer for the twins from The Matrix. Unfortunately they left us half way through the day.

As the day progressed and the twins and their transport abandoned us we decided to hitch our way to McManns Irish bar in Senegambia. Colm got a lift off a guy on a push bike. This guy got a major thank you and a few free beers after cycling with Colm for 5km in the blazing hot sun. Tina, Jeremy and I were able to catch a cool open top 4×4.

We spent many hours reveling at an outdoor table in McManns. Think 6 Irish people standing on their chairs singing joyously to U2 and Luke Kelly songs. We eventually got home only to realise that our camera hadn’t come with us. It had been on the table and I’m pretty sure someone decided to liberate it. If it hadn’t been such a long day I may have been coherent enough to have kept hold of it but that’s the way it goes. We’ve not been lucky with our cameras. Jeremy’s replacement camera, which was broken in Andorra, was en-route to Dakar but was somehow also lost. It’s now turned up in Senegalese customs. This is more than two weeks after its 5 day guaranteed delivery date. We’re now trying to have it sent to London and then routed down to Togo. For now we’ve added some pictures that we’ve been able to scavenge from friends.

We arrived in Gambia after a non-eventful departure from Senegal. We had originally planned to spend just two nights in one of the quiet beach towns south of Banjul. That was the plan. Instead we spent a week there. This is the way it goes on the road. The trip takes on a life of its own through unforeseen interruptions. They’ve been the best parts so far.

The first night in Banjul saw us cringing at a package-holiday hotel. This was bizarre! It’s not the sort of life we’ve been accustomed to on the road. We mixed up the name of the planned accomodation which shared a strikingly similar name to that of a nearby package holiday hotel. The price was reasonable enough, we were tired, and we thought what the hell! I could swear that the people who go on package holidays are escaping reality. I can still vividly remember a middle aged woman dressed up as if she were a clubber in her late teens. She was paired with a dude wearing white trousers, long slicked-back hair and a golden medallion jumping out of a hairy chest which, to put the icing on the cake, was out on display through the open buttons of a flowery white shirt. Think of a fat Johnny Depp from Blow with a total absence of cool. The hotel and surrounding area were also full of old ladies with young Gambian guys. I’ve seen its reverse in Thailand. Old men with young Thai women. Can’t say I agree with the whole thing. Maybe I’m too closed minded but it’s not really right when 60 year olds are dating 20 year olds.

The next day we escaped to Sukuta camping. An overlanders haven. It was there that we found our interruption in the form of a group of Austro/German Jesus Freaks and a Dubliner who has thumbed it all the way down to the Gambia from Europe. The Jesus Freaks are a sect of young Christians who are devoted to the way of the lord. My impression is that they’re making Christianity cool. A bit like the ‘catholicism wow!’ campaign launched by cardinal Glick from Dogma but with a lot more of a rock and roll edge to it. Check out their Austrian website for a thorough overview. Or consider Theo. Theo drives a unimog which doubles up as his own personal home on wheels. He’s also given it a wicked paint job. On one side there’s a massive Christ head interspersed with ‘Jesus. The Christ has a posse’ and on the other side is the signature Alpha to Omega Jesus Freaks logo. He was actually kicked out of Dakar by the police because he was driving the van around during the Islamic summit which was being held there.

Colm was the Dubliner and his story is an inspirational one. He’s relied on the generosity of strangers to get him from Dublin to Gambia. That’s around 10000 kilometers of human kindness! Suffice to say he made fantastic company on Paddy’s day and it was great to be in the company of a fellow Irishman on the road. Apart from the priests and missionaries there’s really not a lot of us out here.

Today we were lucky to have attended an Enduro race-day run by a local motorcross club based in Dakar. Iba our mechanic hooked us up with Alain and Co. and at 7AM, a shockingly unnatural hour for a Sunday morning, we set off with their crew to a small track located close to the Bandia nature reserve 80 kilometers from Dakar. The day was a complete KTM-Fest with 90% of the bikes being raced sporting the trademark orange and black, suffice to say we fitted in a charm.

Over the course of the day there were two racers who really stood out from the rest. Both were the winners in both their categories.

As the day was being wrapped up and the prizes were being handed out Jez and I both looked at each other and agreed that we could hear the track calling to us. I hadn’t brought my safety gear but the temptation was too great and the calling too strong. We launched ourselves into the track and came away smiling both of us wishing we had lighter bikes.

Many of our friends and family had expressed concern when they heard Mauritania was to feature on part of our route. Four French tourists had been killed there in late December. This attack precipitated the cancellation of the Dakar rally. The Israeli embassy was later bombed and there were reports of another French tourist being murdered close to the border as we were in Western Sahara.

Sadly it would seem that most people have decided to heed their friends advice and skip the place entirely. Apart from other overlanders like ourselves the country is void of tourists. This is a shame as Mauritania and its people are pure gold and those skipping the country are missing out on a rare gem.

While in Mauritania we were treated with great hospitality. The guy who ran our hotel in Atar, Bouha, went to great effort to keep us topped up with tea. This is no small thing. Making tea in Mauritania is an art form and a time consuming activity to boot. Bouha also invited us to his family home and cooked us up a great cous cous. This kind of hospitality was very unexpectedly extended to us again by the Mauritanian border guards at Diama. Normally the border guards are your enemy. Hassle is quite often their specialty and they tend to dish this out in large quantities. We saw this in great effect at Rosso where we were held for two hours as the police attempted to scam us. Rosso has been rated as the worst border crossing in Africa hence our attempt to avoid it. The Diama guys however invited us in for a great meal and even gave us a room at their border post for the night.

The African surfers recently put up a post which included a Moroccan quote which translates to: “Those who do not travel do not know the good of men”. I’d never heard the quote before but its meaning I have come to know as this trip has unfolded.