We arrive in Dakar early and have a little bit of a wait for the port officials to clear us, but once that is handled, we disembark and wander up and down the pier looking for a guide with our name. The pier is a small area, completely fenced and secured, the only people here are tour bus operators for the ship and a couple of private tour drivers. No Stevens tour guide though. Hmmmm….
We had originally booked a private guide, but then found the same tour through Viator for a lot less, so went with them. The tour basically combines 2 Azamara tours – Goree Island, the slave island where thousands of slaves were held and then shipped all over the world, and a city tour to see the sights. The tour operator actually used the same guide we had booked privately, so we figured it would be fine. Except there is no one here to pick us up. A very sweet and helpful port official guy came over to ask if he could help. We explained the situation and he said he would call the tour operator – which was so nice! We gave him the number, he called, spoke some form of Bantu language to him, then handed the phone to Ed. After a couple of minutes, the guy on the phone asked to have the phone go back to the other guy – and a long drawn out conversation ensued. This might be a sea day for us after all!
But as it turned out, the sweet port guy was coordinating with the tour guy on where we should go to get picked up. And then the port guy called another one of his guys over and told him to walk us out. How nice! And it gets even better/nicer! It was literally a mile walk to the gate of the port. 25 minutes of walking – kid you not! Through a thoroughly commercial port with all sorts of people hanging around, little stores, cafes, just a perfect introduction to Africa!!!!
Finally at the meeting point, we stand around for a bit before this guy comes up and says I’m a guide. “A”? Not “your”? Our port guy gives him the 3rd degree, and he finally decides he is the guide and it is ok for us to go with him. Very, very nice and totally protective! So off we go with our guide – whose name is Ishmael (and who fortunately we had read a review about on the Viator site so we knew he was legit) – and who already has 2 other people with him that he was touring around. They are in a small car that seats 5 – we are walking. Ok – it is a little weird, but we’ll deal!
Well, as Ishmael is apologizing for the mix up, we are walking to the Goree Island ferry terminal. He tells us that all the guides are busy with the ship and that he was called last minute to come get us. Okie dokie – that didn’t work out so well – but now we are here and all is well, right? Um, no. After meeting the lovely couple from Belgium who will be our tour partners, we walk up to the Ferry entrance and the armed guards ask for our passports. We give them the color photocopy – because the ship still has the actual passport. Nope. Not working. The armed guard tells us to go back to the ship and get the passports. Nope, not happening. Ishmael argues. The guard argues. The guard turns away. We pull out our drivers licenses. Ishmael shows another guard who approves, then we finally walk in. This morning has been sweat inducing to say the least!
But now, finally we are in the courtyard of the ferry building getting to know our companions a bit while Ishmael is doing something – heaven knows what – to try to get our ferry tickets. There is a lot of frenzied walking around, talking, chatting, etc. We figure it’s just the way it is here – we’re here, what do we have to lose now?
Tickets finally in hand, we are admitted into the waiting area, where we are shuttled upstairs because the downstairs is full. Here we meander about a bit, just waiting, until we see the downstairs being released. Ishmael has rounded us up at the top of the stairs and is haranguing the guard to let us go. Finally, he does and Ishmael is off like a shot. And he’s short, so he is hard to follow! You gotta be quick and keep your eyes open for that turquoise STAFF shirt he has on.
We all get a little separated, but manage to follow him onto the back entrance of the boat. I spied his hand raised at the entrance and managed to get us over there. Then, it’s anybody’s guess as to where he’s gone, but the crowd is surging up the stairs, so that’s where we’re headed. And lo and behold, there is Ishmael with seats for us! Good job buddy. Very impressive! Coz they are packing this boat full – including with a couple of ship’s tours. Ishmael said it seats 350, but they’ll put 400 or 500 on it. Joy.
We make it safely to the island – thank God – and as we are disembarking, so are all the supplies for the restaurants and hotels here – including all these eggs just sitting at the bottom of the stairs in open huge cartons, totally unprotected! I’d be petrified someone would fall into them and ruin them. Apparently not a concern!
Fortunately we learned all about Goree Island from Chuck during his destinations talk, because Ishmael tells us things, but he is a little hard to understand. Basically though, this was the island where a lot of slaves were held. It wasn’t the biggest deportation hub – that was somewhere further down the coast, but it still sent thousands of people out of the country into slavery.
The slave trade began in the late 1490’s to early 1500’s and continued in earnest up until the 1800s when countries began to abolish slavery. Goree island in particular began to be used by the Portuguese to export slaves in 1636 and lasted through the 1840s. We begin our tour at the Nelson Mandela square and memorial plaque, where there is some story that I don’t understand from Ishmael.
We continue walking around the island, looking at some pretty old stone houses and colorful alley/walkways, until we arrive at the Slave House.
Here Ishmael buys us tickets (easier than the ferry!) and we proceed to explore the little museum as well as the slave rooms on the lower level. Divided until rooms for men, women and children, Ishmael tells us about astonishing numbers of people they put in these rooms. Upwards of 70 women were held in the room where there is now a lovely, reflective memorial fountain. Crazy!
We peer through the Door of No Return – through which the slaves walked when they were being shipped out. It is that same door where the Obamas had their picture taken.
Then we head up to the white men’s quarters, of course up the stairs with wide open spaces and fresh air. We are told that the daughters held down below liked to have the white man’s attention and liked going upstairs because they wanted to become pregnant. If they were pregnant they were freed. Don’t know if I actually believe that or not, but I’ll share it here nonetheless.
After the slave house, we continue to wander around island, looking at ancient trees and old houses, now converted in to BnBs or hotel inns.
We get to a souvenir place where the guys make sand paintings. Which is totally amazing. First they show us the different color sands that are used, and where they come from, then how they put the glue on the boards and sprinkle sand to make the painting. Crazy talented! And totally cheap, but we definitely do not have any more wall space – so – even $8 USD for one of the smaller paintings can’t convince us to buy one.
Continuing our island wandering, we circle around pretty squares and inns, into a lovely church, then back out onto a big square with old shells of buildings where squatters are living. Lots and lots of people are obviously making this area their home. In little wooden shanties or just under roof in the hollowed out buildings.
We walk past goats, through sand, past this tree painted to look like a face (very cute), into some building whose significance escapes me. Then past a house George Soros owns. Really? That George Soros? Pretty wild.
More buildings in ruins – but for sale! – and then onto the Freedom and Liberty square with the statue memorializing Slave Liberation, which completes our circle of the island. We end up on a promenade around the beach, where Ishmael says lots of people come during the weekends to sunbathe and swim, and then onto the ferry for our return trip to Dakar.
We manage to score front row seats where we can talk to Ishmael and his friend – another guide who has told us we have the wrong guide, that he is the best guide! They chat and talk amongst themselves and to us, the other guide tells us to make sure Ishmael takes us to the African Renaissance Monument. Then talks to us about lunch and what we want. Yes, the other guide is doing this! He tells us about this place that serves family meals and that he suggests we take the red rice and fish, but there is also rice with onion sauce and rice with meat. We’re just nodding along saying, sure. And the guy is actually calling the restaurant to order the food for us! Remember this is not Ishmael, but the other guide. It’s crazy – but hey? What do we know?
Anyhow – off the ferry we go -past the Beer boat! How funny is that. To the parking lot where we have yet another driver and another vehicle – a larger van that can accommodate all of us. And we are off on our city tour.
To be honest, it is a big bustling, relatively modern city of 1 million people and not all that interesting from the car. Except the traffic. Oh God, the traffic! We drive by the train station, which looks like a beautiful old tile building, then we drive around a square that is central to the city with banks everywhere – everything from Citibank to African banks we’ve never heard of, but there are at least 20 of them around this huge square. Crazy – because the poverty is so high here, no one has money. But it is apparently an off-shore sort of thing.
We pass the Chamber of Commerce building, arriving at the Greek Orthodox Cathedral. Here we get out of the van only to be told by a guard that the cathedral is closed and we can’t go in. It closed at noon and it is close to 1pm right now. Well bummer. But even more of a bummer for our Dutch friends – they had really wanted to see the Cathedral and we find out later, had actually been right here ready to go in when the tour company called and told Ishmael he had to come get us. That so stinks! I’ve been thanking them for letting us accompany them, now I’m really apologetic and grateful!
Back in the van, we pass the National theater, but can’t get a good picture, then head out of town to the “Rich man’s” area (Les Almadies where the French and Europeans live), past the mosque we’ll see later and on up to the African Renaissance Monument. This thing is absolutely incredible! It is 171 feet tall, the tallest statue in all of Africa. It symbolizes freedom from slavery but was very controversial when it was built. First of all the cost – $27 million – it was exorbitantly expensive when people can’t even make enough money to eat here, then it was built by the North Koreans – which of course was an issue. The North Koreans said they paid for it, the Senegalese government said they did. Who knows? Next the proportions of the statue have caused ire – the male is much larger in proportion to female, like 3 times as large, so that set off a storm of complaints that women were being minimalized. Finally, the country is mostly Islamic and the Islamic religion considers the statue idolatrous. Not an auspicious start! But supposedly now, the symbolism of the statue is accepted (the woman with her hand trailing, leaving the past behind; the man looking forward and the baby pointing to the future) and people like it.
Regardless of the tortured history (it is only 13 years old, btw), it is an amazing sight to behold! We huff and puff up the 198 steps that lead to the base of the statue, snapping shots of the gargantuan thing along the way. Ishmael leads us around the base with a running commentary that I’m not really listening to because, as I mentioned previously, Chuck had already gone into great detail about the whole thing. So it is perfectly fine to just wander about up on top of one of the twin Collines des Mamalles hills where the statue is located in the beautiful sunny day with a nice stiff cool breeze.
At the bottom of the steps is the little restaurant where we will be having lunch – a surprise to our Dutch partners who really don’t want lunch at all. We’ve proceeded through hungry to it is a little too late to eat – I mean it is almost 2pm. But it is included in the tour, so up we go to the air conditioned 2nd floor and sit around chatting amiably until our lunch arrives – which was pre-arranged, but Ishmael is very confusing as to whether we can order something else or just get what “that guy” called in to order for you. Who knows, whatever comes out, comes out. And what is delivered is a massive plate of vegetables, grilled fish of some sort and the red rice the other guide talked about, along with some weird crunchy stuff by the rice and a tamarind sauce that is really good and really spicy. Actually everything is fairly spicy, but in a good way, not overly – it is just far too much food for any of us to finish. But we at least make an effort.
Then it is back to the van for the return ride into the city, passing the back of the Renaissance monument where you can really see the idea of past, present and future.
A quick stop at the Mosque of the Divinite by the waterfront for some photos and we are once again in the van on the way back.
Half an hour later, after passing by the Medinas (old neighborhoods where the Africans live – as opposed to the Rich Man’s area) we deposit the Dutch couple at their hotel and make our way to the port, passing by one of the ubiquitous tags for Alpha Thiem that are literally all over the city. Ishmael explains that this is a candidate for president, but he never wins anything. Maybe he’s been running for a while, don’t know, as I said, Ishmael can be a little confusing and hard to understand sometimes.
Back at the port, we go into the first entrance, which is much closer than the one where we met up with Ishmael. He escorts us to the gate and we are back onboard in no time, watching as we pass the huge electrical/energy ship that is moored out in the harbor (which I overheard another guide on the ferry saying it powered the trains here, but I think it is just to help with overall energy and power all over Dakar).
It was a good day after the initial confusion, although not at all what we’d expected of Dakar. Senegal is the 36th poorest country, but maybe because we were in the city and then the Rich Man’s area, it didn’t seem all that 3rd world-ish to us. There were little glimpses, but mostly hidden behind walls or city buildings. Tomorrow will be interesting for the contrast.
Evening at sea progresses as normal now, gym, then tonight we decide to go to the buffet for the Indonesian buffet dinner- yum! Afterward we go to the Living Room for the fabulous Back on Traxx and then the balcony for the rest of the evening.
Andiamo 