It is amazing how things all come together and work out in the end. In the morning I was up just in time to see the sign beside the track: “Tambacounda”. Overnight, in about 9 hours we had travelled less than 250 km! The trip was getting ridiculous. From Bamako, we had been on the road for about 32 hours and travelled about 650 km. At this rate they would be in Dakar in another 32 hours. Anne and I had tickets for a small place just outside of Kaolack but we both agreed that we had had enough and left the train with Sue and Chris. We were not the only ones leaving. The friendly people we had met in our cabin were helpful in passing our bags out the window for us so we did not have to struggle with them through the car. Briefly looking around we headed out of the train station.

The road in Senegal is generally alright so we agreed to find a sept-place to the border of The Gambia, near to Barra. This was much better, as I have already said, then going through the far eastern part of The Gambia then through it since the transport is much more reliable in Senegal (and the roads are so much better).

Walking around to the south of the station we eventually (after directions from a number of people) found the bush taxi park where we arranged to hire a complete “sept-place” (taking as a passenger a soldier who was going as far as Kaolack). It was actually not that expensive at 40,000 CFA for the whole taxi and our soldier friend also gave us a bit of money. We headed out to find something to eat. Sue and I found a place that did some very nice meat on bread (though a bit slow as he had to cook it). Chris found the toilet facilities a bit lacking, when he joined us later, having been pointed to a wall in a compound at the back of the “restaurant”.

8:15 we got into the car and were on the first leg of our final journey home: Kaolack. 270 km with not a lot to see along the road which was not in fantastic shape though a driver made pretty good time arriving at about noon. Toilet facilities were once again not quite up to standard as we had to stop once for Sue and I to visit the bushes. After dropping our soldier friend off in the middle of town we stopped at the customs stop (for traffic from the other direction) on the road out to Barra. There we had some ice cream (which is why we knew to stop there) and something to drink before climbing back in for the trip to the border (another 90 km).

Arriving at the border I was not happy. I was going home, for all the worries that this entails. I was getting more and more depressed. We got some benechin (fish and vegetables on rice) before crossing the border, by foot, into The Gambia.

We caught a bush taxi to Barra (15 D plus 5 D for my bag to go on the roof) that was extremely crowded with a man sitting beside me with a suitcase on the floor, his feet on top of it (with knees on his chin) and his elbows in my side. Not comfortable. Coupled with the fact that the road we were travelling was by far the worst of the trip, it was not nice.

Arriving in Barra we had the normal routine: scramble to purchase tickets (Anne very thoughtfully bought for all of us), wait for a long time in the waiting area (with drinks and food on offer from a number of vendors) then quickly run to catch the ferry when the gates finally open. Well, we did not run, but we eventually sat at the top of the ferry and watched as Barra receded in the distance.

From the Banjul terminal we had already agreed to catch a taxi directly to take us each home. No problem.

We were home. 6:00 PM. I am tired. I want a shower (I smell funny after how many days of travel since the hotel in Bamako?) then I want to sleep.

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