Arriving in Banjul, we sail in past little teeny skiff like boats that look like they are ready to sink at any moment, and dock at a bare pier at the end of the port area.  We are a little bit early, and stay up on deck watching the all woman group who are welcoming us with a musical performance.  Then we proceed down to the dock to see if we can find Joseph, our guide.  As we are looking around, a guy comes up to us and greets us, telling us he is happy to see us.  We start to talk, he asks if we are ready, we say yes.  He asks if anyone else is coming, we say no it is just the 2 of us. He tells us he is waiting from some other guys.  Hmmmm.  Then he asks if we remember the itinerary, to which Ed starts to reel off the sights we had pre-agreed with Joseph we would tour.  Then the guy asks if we remember the pricing.  Um.  Yeah, coz it is all pre-paid!  I then ask him his name.  He replies, don’t you remember my name?  I say, yes, I do, why don’t you tell me your name yourself.  Yeah, well, it is definitely not Joseph, but some guide named “Speedy” who is trying to scam a tour off of us.  Crazy funny – but at least we figured it out. 

Fortunately we have Joseph’s number, so we call him on Skype and he says he can’t get into the port, we’ll have to meet him at the gate.  Ok, so off we go, across the little bridge that connects the pier to the main port. Unfortunately though, as we had seen from the upper decks, there is a huge puddle (read:  lake!) of pure black water that we have to wade through at the end of the bridge to get to the main gate.  Oh boy.  Here we go!  As we are walking towards the puddle/lake, vendors are coming through it with all their wares to set up the little souvenir bazaar on the pier where we are docked.  Everyone is so sweet though; 5 or 6 of the vendors tell us to take off our shoes.  Ack – ok – even though I’ve got my walking sandals on I still take them off.  Ed of course has to take off his good walking shoes and socks.  And wade away we do, passing this one sweet lady who apologized to us and then said “Welcome to Africa.”  You know, you gotta experience it if you’re here – so we’re going local!

And oh my God – our feet!  They are so dirty – and I can’t get mine clean even with water and a napkin. Ok – they’re just staying dirty!  But we arrived safely to the gate and in a few minutes the real Joseph and the driver, Buba, pulled up and we were off.

Right off the bat you can tell Banjul is totally different from Dakar.  This is definitely 3^rd World.  The roads are small and narrow and lined with older, more dilapidated buildings.  Our first stop, the Royal Albert Market, is not at all what we expected.  It was not busy at all with very few vendors.  Quite odd.  Joseph said it is busier on the weekdays, plus it is early in the morning on Saturday, but still.  There a few produce and seafood vendors, then a little section of souvenir vendors and not much else. 

After our walk, we hop back in the car and head off to the National museum which was not open yet.  Joseph called the guy who managed the museum and he was running late – or there was some confusion because Joseph specifically organized the stop with the museum in advance and he can’t understand why the guy isn’t there in the first place.  Anyhow, the guy says he can be there in 25 minutes, but we all decide we don’t want to wait that long, so plan B, we will come back here in the afternoon on our way back to the ship.

Back in the car, we leave Banjul proper across the Denton bridge, the only roadway that connects Banjul to the mainland. Everything else is by ferry boat.  The city of Banjul is basically an island with a population of 32,000.  There are 400,000 in the surrounding areas, many of whom come into the city via the ferry boats.  We drive through the KMC, an industrial area and on into Westfield which is residential and named for a hospital that used to operate here.  We are on our way through Dippa Kunda, the neighborhood where the Batik factory is located, turning off the pavement road onto all sand and dirt roads and little lanes as we wind our way to the “factory” set up in a courtyard surrounded by buildings.  Arriving there, we get a lesson on how to make Batik, with a stick that has a copper wire attached and is put into the hot wax.  Both Ed and I get a turn at coloring in the wax areas.  The Batik guy says Ed is good enough to hire – so he can stay and have a job! It’s a fun little excursion, we’re not in the market for anything, but it is a nice diversion.

Next up, we make our way to the Katchically sacred crocodile pools, in Bakau, through different neighborhoods of dirt roads, shanties, nicer homes behind walls and locked gates (the walls with a veneer that looks like tile – saw those all over the place, nice little fashion feature!).  Definitely much more poverty on display here than in Dakar – but with a poverty rate of 48% that is to be expected.   

Arriving at Katchically, we wander through a museum that provides an insight into the Bakau neighborhood which Joseph says is a rebel area – they police themselves and don’t want anything to do with the government.  There is a good timeline/overview that begins in the 1600s when the pools were discovered and goes through to the 1990’s – listing the coups, the uprisings, the Lufthansa plane crash (1944 – it was probably meant to be Luftwaffe, a German war plane, but you know….translations…what can you say? We’re not quibbling with details!), ending with the construction of the independent stadium that seats 20,000 (but we learn isn’t used anymore because it is dilapidated and falling down, even though the football team is a pretty good contender for the World Cup – they have to play matches in Morocco!).  There are also lots of different indigenous costumes to keep bad spirits away during boys’ circumcision rituals (yeah, that’s sort of weird – but hey it’s cultural). And lots of headdresses and other costumes and a really awful photo of lip tattooing that isn’t happening anymore (thank God!).

Leaving the museum, we pass one of those huge ancient Kapok trees, and then enter the crocodile area.  We get to pet the crocodiles!  Seriously!  Initially I wasn’t going to do it – I’m not touching that thing.  But they have these guides there who organize everything and we were sort of forced into it – especially since the crocodile guide took my phone and essentially held it – and us hostage!  But it was totally fun.  We had pictures with just us, us and Joseph and then the crocodile guide took us on a tour of the sacred pond and videoed the whole thing. 

It was actually fascinating – how the pond is believed to have mystical properties and people dip in it (with 100 crocodiles mind you!) to cure their ills. Particularly pregnant women to make their babies healthy.  Wild.  Meanwhile, the crocodiles are just wandering around us.  The guide keeps shooing the crocodiles away – kicking them in the head. I’d be upset if weren’t for the fact that these are crocodiles – big huge jaws, nasty bites!  They do leave us alone though, so I’m not arguing.

Back to the car, we are off to lunch, riding through even more neighborhoods with dirt roads, donkey carts, vendors selling watermelons and tons of tuk-tuks, what Gambians call Ki-Ki’s.  They are new imports into the country, starting just a few years ago.

After passing Buba’s home, and navigating some very bumpy and deep sand/dirt roads, we arrive at the restaurant, Marie’s, which is locked up tight.  Admittedly we are a bit early, it is only 10:30 in the morning, but Ishmael had called ahead and told her we were coming.  Apparently she didn’t heed his call, or is just running late.  No matter, we hang out a bit, and here comes Marie, to open up the restaurant just for us!  It was like having a private home cooked meal from a restaurant.  She and Ishmael opened up the place, brought a table and chairs outside to the patio for us and then Marie proceeded to cook. 

And it was amazing. As we waited we sipped on wonderfully cold Crystal beer, while watching a party being set up across the street.  Ishmael said it was for a baby’s party – there is a party to welcome the baby one week after the birth, which is the first time that a baby comes out of the house.  This looks like a big one – tons of chairs, a whole tent.  We’re just loving what the workers are wearing – their shirts are great. We particularly like the Chang beer t-shirt guy.  

Soon, we are served our main meal of grilled butterfish with rice which was absolutely excellent, and you know it had to be if I’m telling you fish was excellent. There was this caramelized onion sauce sort of thing served with it, which was particularly yummy!  It was great sitting out front, watching the Gambian world go by.  Fascinating.

Then we drove back out through the dirt roads and neighborhoods, passing really nice homes (with the ubiquitous goat out front), hitting the construction area where they are building a new road system and huge new bridge from some conference next year – and no way is that road ever going to be finished by then!

Past the aforementioned stadium, back over the Denton bridge and past the Arch 22 which is this huge monstrous arch over the road – complete with permanent bleachers built on each side of the road – to celebrate the military coup on July 22, 1994 – lovely. 

Back in the city, the National Museum is finally open so we tour through there for a bit, looking at more costumes and indigenous arts and crafts, along with some historical memorabilia.  There is also this really cool painting that incorporates different materials into it to mimic a grass skirt or a head wrap or the strings of an instrument.  Very neat.

We actually find a room that Joseph hasn’t ever visited before – the musical room. Here there are tons of traditional musical instruments including the Kora, the most traditional and famous instrument associated with the Mandinka culture. 

Then it is time to head back to the ship – snapping shots of street life as we go.

Once there, because we are in the care, Joseph and Buba are allowed to drive into the port to take us back, and Joseph is appalled when he sees the water we had to walk through in the morning.  But hey, things happen!  It was a true African experience.  And we have the dirty feet pictures to prove it – plus a picture of the much diminished black water puddle!  (Yes, we slathered our feet with antibiotics after we scrubbed them clean in the shower once we were back onboard!)

That was a totally excellent adventure, and so much fun with the 2 of those guys.

There is still some time before we sail, so we hang out watching all the vendors who had to haul all this stuff in and then stand out there in the sun all day hoping some one might buy something.  Amazing the amount of work they had to do – and for probably not a very lucrative day.

Then, as we are sailing away, they break it all down, haul it back over the bridge to begin again another day.  Wow.   Out we sail past the Gambian energy ship – and away we go – onto our 5 sea days as we sail out to St. Helena island in the middle of nowhere.