Stuck in a place/Early morning/I like these pics.
14/Nov/05. The Landy would not move these days (as there is no U-joints for the prop-shafts). But it is still our home. We like our home. Especially with its mosquito net.
We hitch a ride to Dakar with Cristian, the good Swiss who has already helped us so much. And we are happy to be back in Dakar/happy to have escaped Zebrabar for a few days, where I tried hard for some 3 weeks to become a semi-professional mechanic.
And we are happy to be back for - Charwarmas at Alibaba's!
3 times a day.
- more then once.
Fast Food the way it should taste.
Dakar/Ile Gorée - the jewel.
They call it the jewel/Don't go there. My - odd - view of things.
So Î don't expect much/did not even want to go there/some one made the experience I try to avoid/But eventually am bullied by Cristian and Hasna and Ruth to join the trip to Gorée.
The Gorée Diaspora Festival starts on Tuesday the 15th. We find out, "there is some carnival tonight" while on the ferry from Dakar to the Island of Gorée.
Well advertised the"carnival" is. And good it is that way (less tourists).
The weather is not too great. But clearly something is being cooked up here. And actually the Island has its charm, its colonial houses, its ...
its museum. Gorée in the 18th century was an important slave shipping port in West Africa. And interesting its history is.
Eventually the thing gets going. And in good tradition speeches are being held/one by one the important people say their all so important things. Most talk rubbish of course/of course some not.
We turn away from the speeches, I sit down in a little cafe, the beer tastes good, a girl is trying to sell me necklaces. She has tried already earlier this afternoon. Still I am not expecting anything. But then - right next to where I have settled - via the small beach -
- the "Colours" and "Costumes" and "Dancers" are moving in, one group after the other.
Later, mingling in with the crowd I find the singer and his fellows. The one song they sing over and over, it is still on my mind now as I write this. But I never manage to find his name out.
Late after dinner the Jazz act is on. Two bands make for a good program. My head feels a bit heavy from the rosé and red we have had. A groovy mood is about to take hold of me.
While I get my ears tuned for a long night of some great Jazz, Cristian reminds me that the last ferry is at 11. No one has told the ferry company to change their time tables for the time of the festival.
The festival in Gorée, we never managed to go back to the island and the act there.
I spend my time working on the page. .
The charwarmas (20 times a day/too often) begin to take their toll/make me sick.
Friday comes and we pick up the spares for the Land Rover from DHL and pay lots of money to customs. The DHL bill I have not seen yet. ("Angst")
Saturday we take the road/the beach via Lac Rose and Kayes to M'boro.
In M'boro we are happy to meet Rudi again. A filmmaker, video/sound technician, a musician who made it in the 1970s from East Germany to the West. Rudi shows us round the land that he has bought.
"These are my palm trees, these are my baobabs". A little dream, put into reality. Rudi wants to find time for his head and follow up on the many ideas he has had for years.
Sunday we are back in Zebrabar/St.Louis.
We prepare/repair the Land Rover and hit the road on 24th of November, north, Cristian with us.
I think that I cannot stay in one place for too long a time without seriously feeling uneasy/unhappy/like in prison.
But Al-Hamdoulilah we are back on the road/beach for the Mauritania adventure. Stay tuned.
Postings by readers don't necessarily represent my own views. I delete what I deem inappropriate. So be fair, don't swear. Discuss photography, travels, places, politics, whatever faintly touches the subject of the page.