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It was a battle of wills during a stroll along the beach in Cap Skirring. Renowned for its people-less beaches those few people that are there are there to talk and talk up a storm. They are the beach bums. The Rasta men, a group of people I have very little time for. So when I set off left from my accommodation on the water for $12 a night I was heading the opposite direction of town and towards the Guinea-Bissau border. I wouldn’t get robed or beaten up but would instead test the Rasta mans will power. How far will this guy walk with me? Will he stay with me long enough for me to turn back?
I re-entered Senegal from The Gambia and started off with a pee next to the immigration office. Not in a toilet but like the locals on my ride, in the dried up vegetable patch after being stamped in. This ride only took about 6 hours to complete but still it was exhausting.
I was in the Casamnace, a region known for its fishing and animist religion. Much of the area is lagoons, swamp, and rivers. There is a tourist scene, packaged
tourism come here but there is a lot of evidence that it has dried out.
A turn right from my accommodation along the beach closer to Cap Skirring town is Club Med, which seemed to be doing all right. But there are other resorts that have closed down. This is due to scuffles with a rebellious group looking to separate from the Senegalese north. This is why it is so rare to see a situation like Sudan splitting because there are so many other regions, which want to do the same and before you know it Africa could be 100 countries to put it dramatically. But that’s a fear I’ve heard on my travels.
What was good to see was at Paradise accommodation where I stayed at, the hotel was run by a local. Even though I do like to stay in Western run (former backpacker) hostels I do like to see when locals run and know what they are doing. It’s a cheap place and the guy was informative.
In fact if it weren’t for him I could have been stuffed with entering Guinea Bissau. My original plan was to cross over along the beach to
Verala 9 kms away. I thought it would be awesome to just walk from one stretch of sand to the other and you are in another country but I was told the exit stamp was needed to be done from Ziguinchor 1 hour and a bit back.
So the next day I decided to walk the beach and get an idea as to whether the beach changes or not. I heard big things about Senegal beaches and to be honest they are just okay. I wasn’t really that impressed so if the beach further down had some decent waves, less rubbish and no blue bottles on steroids than I’d consider my original plan.
These blue bottles were some scary creatures. I have created a full page of photos dedicated to them. One was just posing for me in the wind. Whilst later on you can see when the water hits them. The pink around the frills brighten up a lot.
The previous day when I walked the right side of the beach I got stopped a few times for a chat and you’ll find they are mostly Gambian. Like in most of Africa they try to grab
your attention by lip smacking noise like an ugly kiss or a whistle.
The following day I was 350m into a possible 9km walk there and back to the left of my accommodation. He requested to shake my hand after the normal exchange of pleasantries. General chit chat would happen. Do I smoke? Drink? Talk about some party tonight that will no doubt be lame. And the typical Gambian question on whether I am married.
He would talk for ages on why I am not married. To eventually me saying, “Look I don’t really want to talk about that anymore. What is it with Gambian’s with talking about marriage? This is my 7th day in a row talking about this.”
I had all day to walk along this beach and as we passed (early on in the walk) the last of the hotels or resorts it was just me, him and virgin beach. He informed me “This is the last hotel.” “Oh really, Okay” And I kept walking. Conversation seized from then on with only little comments from the guy showing his pride would not be dented by leaving now.
I see him looking back every
time we reached another point. It was about 4-5 points we passed and he still kept walking with me. I thought I had him when he started looking back quite a lot and then said in an astonished way. “How far are you going to go?” “I’m not sure I am thinking of going to Verala.” He looked a bit like, ‘Oh shit.’
But he couldn’t leave me now. He was too far into it and if he left now than it would appear that he joined me because he wanted to get something out of me. And I don’t want anyone commenting that they don’t. That’s crap!!
So just when I thought I won the battle he comes up with a counter punch of excitement, “I’ve never been this far before!” ‘Up yours you bastard’ I thought. He was there till the end and as I saw about 10 mins later the next stretch of beach was about 4 kms long I decided to turn back. Within 10 seconds of turning back he was full of voice again obviously with a clear head that home is just around the corner.
When it got close to base
he asked me if I wanted to come to his hut for a water. I declined meaning his morning was wasted. The beach was empty and if I bypassed him at the beginning there was not one other person to annoy me. But whilst semi seclusion on beaches is good. It does mean in places like Africa you have these guys following you around.
I’m not sure how you can judge the bout. My plan was to walk as far as possible so he can give up and I would not get sucked into buying a drink and be caught up for the rest of the day. For him it was to annoy me and wait until I go and buy something off him. In the end I think it was a draw.
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non-member comment
Looks not so good
i've been ther and it really cool to find new spices of animals