A guy went to make me a fruit juice about an hour ago. He said he had to go and buy the fruit, but he didn't say he had to go and grow it. Here's hoping that he'll appear in the course of this blog post.
Today has been interesting, and it's not over yet. I am extremely proud of myself for having fought off what they call a 'bumster' - I hasten to add that this is a local term for someone who hassles people for money, not my own term.
After a filling breakfast I had decided to walk to Bijilo National Park as it is only about twenty minutes away.
A fully-horned cow just walked across the beach; five minutes ago there were three people on horse-back. I've befriended the resident dog and we even went paddling in the sea together - I call that friendship. His name is Wilfro.
My fruit juice just arrived - it is sumptuous and tastes like it's been plucked straight from a tree, which it probably has.
Sipping it, I can gently feel my vitamin C levels recalibrating, unlike my vitamin D levels which have gone off the scale.
So there I was, walking along to Bijilo National Park, known locally as Monkey Park. I always walk quickly - walk positively and people think you know where you're going - story of my life - speak with conviction and positivity and you'll be ok.
A man fell into step with me. He was older than me, maybe around 50, his hair gently starting to grey - definitely too old to be one of those husslers everyone warns you about.
He was very friendly, telling me all about his love for visitors from most European countries and how he used to be a policeman, and now works for an English boss importing cars from Europe (that just auto-corrected to 'importing cats' from Europe, which might be strange) . He told me he was a good Muslim, praying five times a day (on reflection, I should have asked him where his prayer mat was as he would need it within a few hours if he was going to pray at the next prayer time). We chatted for quite a while, as one does on the road.
He was very keen to know about my itinerary, which I am always very guarded about, mainly because I don't usually know. He asked where I was staying, for how long and whether I knew anybody here - I bumbled something, telling him all about April, May and June's mum. She's called Autumn and has a twin sister called Summer.
He said he would take me to the monkey park, then wait for me and take me wherever else I wanted to go.
I thanked him but said this was not necessary.
He said we should turn off the main road to buy a ticket for the monkey park. I asked why, because the monkey park was straight ahead, not down a dusty side-street. He was very insistent that the tickets had to be purchased here due to it being low reason. I questioned the fact that there was no sign. I walked a few paces then he said I should give him 500 D to go and buy the ticket. I said that I would not do this and that I would buy the ticket myself. He said they would charge me much more. I said I knew the cost already as I had looked it up; I knew that park entry is 150 D.
He wasn't having it. Then he got nasty. 'You need to give me money to buy the ticket - you said you would'. I very sternly said 'no, I will not give you any money as you will disappear with it. And I didn't say anything about giving you money to buy the ticket'.
He persisted - 'I am trying to help you. I am kind person'.
'But that is a dusty side-street, not a monkey park - the monkey park is in another direction. You are trying to lead me down a dusty side-street to rob me. You are lying to me and I will not be taken in by it'.
'Then you must give me money for a taxi back to town. Show some charity'.
Ouch.
I did something I haven't done for a while - I raised my voice:
'Look - you fell into step with me - I didn't ask you to do anything. You tried to lead me down a side-street to steal my money - I am not going anywhere with you or giving you anything! Now go away and leave me alone!!'
With that I stormed off, leaving him standing by the side of the road. He looked crestfallen.
I was proud of myself for having stood up to him, but also wracked with guilt. He had given me a bit of company and seemed nice initially, asking questions about me and generally being friendly. What if he was hungry? What if his family were hungry?
I walked on, frustrated and a bit perplexed.
I arrived at the monkey park and duly paid my 150 D. I was allocated a Guide called, well, he introduced himself as Sean but his card says Mustafa. He was excellent and gave me a highly informative tour of Bijilo National Park where I saw green vervet, red colobus and patas monkeys, as well as all sorts of intriguing bird life. The baby monkeys cling to the mummy monkeys for transport, which was adorable to see. The bright and beautiful bird life was a sight to behold. Sean / Mustafa had a knack of spotting wildlife long before it became obvious, including a fully-grown lizard which was around two metres in length.
He also introduced me to a type of spider called the Orb-Weaving Spider. After the male spider has impregnated the female, it is considered that his job is done, so the female then eats the male. Saves time and trouble spent celebrating anniversaries I suppose.
I also saw a number of spectacular termite hills which also punctuated the landscape yesterday as we travelled in the bus from the border to Barra. These were epic structures, taller than me and home to a million hungry but constructive termites.
As we were chatting, I mentioned to Sean / Mustafa that I was interested in visiting Kachikally Crocodile Pool. We did a deal and arranged that he would take me there too and sort out the transport, so off we went, in his driver's battered green Golf.
There was a good exhibition about the history of The Gambia which was interesting and well-presented. I was disconcerted to see photos of people gathering for FGM cutting ceremonies - this is technically illegal here but goes on in some areas regardless. I've twice had to explain what this is in safeguarding trainings recently - the trainees looked at me open-mouthed and I had to explain that I wasn't making it up. There are 28 countries where it is still not illegal. 28 too many.
Crocodiles are intriguing creatures. It's almost as though all other animals have evolved, but crocodiles have been left behind, lost in time like a cross between some sort of prehistoric angry lizard and an aggressive neighbour. They lie, pulverised by time, some with their mouths seemingly wedged open. There are over a hundred living in that pool.
'You can touch them', assured the crocodile guide to whom I was introduced by Sean / Mustapha, amidst giant signs which instructed 'do not touch unless instructed by a Guide'. I still haven't read my travel insurance policy, but I doubt 'crocodile damage' features; nevertheless I did stroke one, briefly. It didn't react thankfully; if it had I doubt I'd be writing a blogpost right now.
'Do they have names?' I asked.
'One has a name - Charlie.'
'What do you call the rest?'
'The rest, we call "crocodile"'.
Wow - wonder how they came up with that.
Today has been interesting, and it's not over yet. I am extremely proud of myself for having fought off what they call a 'bumster' - I hasten to add that this is a local term for someone who hassles people for money, not my own term.
After a filling breakfast I had decided to walk to Bijilo National Park as it is only about twenty minutes away.
A fully-horned cow just walked across the beach; five minutes ago there were three people on horse-back. I've befriended the resident dog and we even went paddling in the sea together - I call that friendship. His name is Wilfro.
My fruit juice just arrived - it is sumptuous and tastes like it's been plucked straight from a tree, which it probably has.
Sipping it, I can gently feel my vitamin C levels recalibrating, unlike my vitamin D levels which have gone off the scale.
So there I was, walking along to Bijilo National Park, known locally as Monkey Park. I always walk quickly - walk positively and people think you know where you're going - story of my life - speak with conviction and positivity and you'll be ok.
A man fell into step with me. He was older than me, maybe around 50, his hair gently starting to grey - definitely too old to be one of those husslers everyone warns you about.
He was very friendly, telling me all about his love for visitors from most European countries and how he used to be a policeman, and now works for an English boss importing cars from Europe (that just auto-corrected to 'importing cats' from Europe, which might be strange) . He told me he was a good Muslim, praying five times a day (on reflection, I should have asked him where his prayer mat was as he would need it within a few hours if he was going to pray at the next prayer time). We chatted for quite a while, as one does on the road.
He was very keen to know about my itinerary, which I am always very guarded about, mainly because I don't usually know. He asked where I was staying, for how long and whether I knew anybody here - I bumbled something, telling him all about April, May and June's mum. She's called Autumn and has a twin sister called Summer.
He said he would take me to the monkey park, then wait for me and take me wherever else I wanted to go.
I thanked him but said this was not necessary.
He said we should turn off the main road to buy a ticket for the monkey park. I asked why, because the monkey park was straight ahead, not down a dusty side-street. He was very insistent that the tickets had to be purchased here due to it being low reason. I questioned the fact that there was no sign. I walked a few paces then he said I should give him 500 D to go and buy the ticket. I said that I would not do this and that I would buy the ticket myself. He said they would charge me much more. I said I knew the cost already as I had looked it up; I knew that park entry is 150 D.
He wasn't having it. Then he got nasty. 'You need to give me money to buy the ticket - you said you would'. I very sternly said 'no, I will not give you any money as you will disappear with it. And I didn't say anything about giving you money to buy the ticket'.
He persisted - 'I am trying to help you. I am kind person'.
'But that is a dusty side-street, not a monkey park - the monkey park is in another direction. You are trying to lead me down a dusty side-street to rob me. You are lying to me and I will not be taken in by it'.
'Then you must give me money for a taxi back to town. Show some charity'.
Ouch.
I did something I haven't done for a while - I raised my voice:
'Look - you fell into step with me - I didn't ask you to do anything. You tried to lead me down a side-street to steal my money - I am not going anywhere with you or giving you anything! Now go away and leave me alone!!'
With that I stormed off, leaving him standing by the side of the road. He looked crestfallen.
I was proud of myself for having stood up to him, but also wracked with guilt. He had given me a bit of company and seemed nice initially, asking questions about me and generally being friendly. What if he was hungry? What if his family were hungry?
I walked on, frustrated and a bit perplexed.
I arrived at the monkey park and duly paid my 150 D. I was allocated a Guide called, well, he introduced himself as Sean but his card says Mustafa. He was excellent and gave me a highly informative tour of Bijilo National Park where I saw green vervet, red colobus and patas monkeys, as well as all sorts of intriguing bird life. The baby monkeys cling to the mummy monkeys for transport, which was adorable to see. The bright and beautiful bird life was a sight to behold. Sean / Mustafa had a knack of spotting wildlife long before it became obvious, including a fully-grown lizard which was around two metres in length.
He also introduced me to a type of spider called the Orb-Weaving Spider. After the male spider has impregnated the female, it is considered that his job is done, so the female then eats the male. Saves time and trouble spent celebrating anniversaries I suppose.
I also saw a number of spectacular termite hills which also punctuated the landscape yesterday as we travelled in the bus from the border to Barra. These were epic structures, taller than me and home to a million hungry but constructive termites.
As we were chatting, I mentioned to Sean / Mustafa that I was interested in visiting Kachikally Crocodile Pool. We did a deal and arranged that he would take me there too and sort out the transport, so off we went, in his driver's battered green Golf.
There was a good exhibition about the history of The Gambia which was interesting and well-presented. I was disconcerted to see photos of people gathering for FGM cutting ceremonies - this is technically illegal here but goes on in some areas regardless. I've twice had to explain what this is in safeguarding trainings recently - the trainees looked at me open-mouthed and I had to explain that I wasn't making it up. There are 28 countries where it is still not illegal. 28 too many.
Crocodiles are intriguing creatures. It's almost as though all other animals have evolved, but crocodiles have been left behind, lost in time like a cross between some sort of prehistoric angry lizard and an aggressive neighbour. They lie, pulverised by time, some with their mouths seemingly wedged open. There are over a hundred living in that pool.
'You can touch them', assured the crocodile guide to whom I was introduced by Sean / Mustapha, amidst giant signs which instructed 'do not touch unless instructed by a Guide'. I still haven't read my travel insurance policy, but I doubt 'crocodile damage' features; nevertheless I did stroke one, briefly. It didn't react thankfully; if it had I doubt I'd be writing a blogpost right now.
'Do they have names?' I asked.
'One has a name - Charlie.'
'What do you call the rest?'
'The rest, we call "crocodile"'.
Wow - wonder how they came up with that.
Your fellow walker today has something in common with the cold calls we get which are oh so convincing until you hear the line "to solve this problem, press 1...." Interesting to note lizards - something you and Rosemary have in common this summer - Titan escaped again.....look forward to hearing you are safe home soon. Mum & Dad
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