Chegando nas Ilhas Bijagos

After a long and heavy controlled border crossing we finally entered Guinea Bissau, one of the poorest country of all Africa. Despite its dark fame of being a narcostate, the brder policemen were friendly and fine. From now on I started to be the Portuguese official translator of our small group although too many locals can not speak other than Criollo, which is a strange mixture of "Portuguese and Sicilian" dialect. The road to Biassau was well paved but we had often to stop because of strange check point made of local policewomen handing a rode tied in a big tree on the other side of the road, they seemed to ask the driver for help and he quickly gave them a few coins. On the main check points there were lot of women and kids selling oranges, cakes "brazilian bolo"-like, wallnuts and water whereas the small vialleges we passed through seemed very simple and I did not see lot of shops nor markets. The ladscape was really beautiful, 2mtall grasslands were sorrounding the road, small lakes, rivers and dry swamps were intervalling patch of forested earth and considering that in this 2hours ride we crossed a handful of cars, I may say that GB, except the capital, remains one of the least polluted country I have ever been. As we arrived to Bissau, I realized that the few information I had of this small capital were right; accommodation is not cheap nor easy to find, yet there were some Hungarians came here by jeeps and many hotels were fully booked, after 1hr search we stumbled upon a shabby hotel room with no running water and a small bed for me and Ale, whereas Carlo unrolled his flea-bag on the floor. After a good churrasco dinner at Gran via (no need to say that it reminded me Brazilians churrascarias...que saudade) then we hurried to our room where we have been almost killed by strong humid heat and hungry Guinean mosquitos. At b5 o'clock we arrived in the darkness of Bissau commercial harbour and had the chance to catch a 15m wooden pirogue after it had loaded its ciment, beer, food, livestock and human cargo. We soon discovered that the pirogue staff had no ladder available, thus we all had to slide down a 2m rope, easier than it seemed but for sure an original way to get on a boat. The 4 hrs cruise was plain and quiet, I read a magazine, Carlo took a nap until a cock reminded us of his job at 8o'clock, and Ale suffered nervous every single minute until we got to Bubaque. No floating vest was provided on the boat and he can not swim...how to blame him?
As soon as we landed, we found a lovely, simple; cheap campement chez Titi who provided us with delicious fish dinners and good breakfast. By the way these islands are one of the last paradise of ocean fishing 4but Koreans, Americans and European technological ships already started the pillage of this sea with the local polititicians agreement) and at dusk the harbour of Bubaque is full of teenagers who can fish so many carps, thunas and pargos even with simple fishing lines. Of course the few luxury hotels organize expensive fishing cruises, but even when they catch huge 20kg barracudas it sounds me an impartial battle.
After a 10 days here I really started to appreciate a very slopace lifestyle, fine and lovely people, qt the beginning shy but really friendly. One of the very highlight of Bubaque was the many electrical black outs that from one side obliged us to keep almost disconnected from Internet and from 90% of communication duties and  hassles and on the other side once again gave us the oportunity to visit and walk around Bubaque lighted just by the moon light. Can you imagine it? I could not before I came to Africa, in Italy I am so used to public lights that it was a kind of magic to be roofed by a brilliant sparkling rain of stars sometimes surrounded by clouds prairies. Yet it was so nice to walk around sheeps, goats, pigs and cows whose shape could just be guessed under the moonlight exactly as it happened at Barrio Caracol where some groups of local youngsters were talking, dancing or getting drunk by palmwine at the darkness of the nights. No point in saying that I would have loved to spend more time there and to pick up some Criollo language, however I am glad to have been able to get there and hope that this paradise wont be destroyed too fast.

Wilderness in Casamance

After the night spent in Oussouye we get to Mlomb to buy some fruit then we got to Elinkine, a small fishermen village that seemed nothing special but for sure is the last place where we could use our mobile phone. We bargained hard to have a 5000CFA pirogue trip to Cachouanne. We stayed by Chez Koukoy, a cheap campement just in front of a quiet, wild qnd desert beach that was the perfect starting point for our excursions to the Village of Djembere (it took 4 hours of hours walking in a sandy path each way), to the "Calypso mood" island of Carabanne and to the fishgermen island of Diogue where we bought some huge fishes to be grilled. The atmosphere at Cachouanne was so relaxing and quiet that we spent there a few days more regretting not to be able to stay longer. I can not forget the heavily starred sky nor the cool air and the crimson dawn that used to be my yoga session favourite time. The evening was the right moment to talk with the boys and the old men of the village as well as our campement chef was absolutely great. I do hope I can come back here next year in order to visit Cape Saint Gerorge and Kafountine region that are believed to be just amazing, however I can not forget how lovely and delighted were an old farmer and the meusinier of Djembere when I, Ale and Carlo approached to them in order to understand a bit how the life is in their village. On the way back we almost got lost but a nice young woman stopped her fire wood search to help us and to lead us for several Km greeting us and thanking us for a small coin given with a djiola formula that can be translated in "get home in peace". 

Casamance

Last night we strolled around the small harbour of Ziguinchor, a lovely sunset with a quiet nature, birds busy with fishing activities and along with Ale, Carlo 2 Swiss guys and his friend Pascal we had an interesting talk about African geopolitics. He is a really professional and uptodated guy and told us that countries have no friends, just interests as well as we can be friends as far as on the table there is a good cake we can share. With these simple but effective sentences he explained us the hard but hopeful situation of Liberia and the strage colonization of West Sahara by the Spaiards before, by Morocco now.
While talking the sky was a trhrilling reservoir of shining stars and our restaurant floor was made of shells, a lovely African night in oher words.
This morning we got up early enough to be taken to the Guine Bissau Consulate by a friend (there was a taxi strike), and with my big surprise, the nice counselor sticked the GB Visa in my passport in 5 minutes at the reasonable price of 15000CFA. Now Lets see if these Ilhas Bijagos are as beautiful as it is said.
We finally set off to Oussouye, 35km from Ziguinchor, we stayed in a typical, fresh, mudmade campement for the tiny amount of 3000CFA, then we started to visit this hamlet inhabited by Djiola ethnic who is considered along with Sere one of the friendliest and most hospitable; e had an interesting talk with several french who dcided to live here the most part of the year with their African woman and kids. Then we just walked around the village to discover a wonderful landascape of ricefields, mangroves, branch of marsh water crossed by handmade canoes, too many birds extremely able in fishing and almost everywhere zebu and pigs, we dropped by the Bolongs Campement where we relaxed on their hammocks sipping cold ginger drinks. Here too we met  nice old frenchmen who gave us some more tips about our next canoe excursions, its just a pity we are hurrying too much despite this is no doubt the most beautiful part of Senegal I have visited so far. 

Chasing the Malian Embassy

This morning we got up early in order to get the Visa of Mali since we thought that Guinea Bissau requires lot of time to vsit the Bijagos islands whereas we have good contacts in Bamako and in another village.We got off the taxi and immediately started our search realizig mmediately that it woud have not been an easy task. Almost everyone seemed to know more or less where te embassy was: go there, ask here, go near the Sierra Leone embassy, enter that palace, look up searching Malian fag.... and many more suggestions that adter & hur gave not result. Finally an old alian man dropped in a garage where there was a bus servce to Mali, he explained that there was no more embassy in Banjul and that he was doing a kind of walking Consulate service, collecting passports to give to the embassador coming from Dakar twice a week from Dakar, obviously we decided to get my passport stamped in Dakar or directly on the border. At 11 Lamin gave us a lift to the Sept Place garage and fro tere we got in 45min at te border with Senegal. Everyting was fine but almost everyone on the car started to pray his God asking to protect us.... we were entering a very tough zone of Casamance guerrilla zone, we all knew of it. Despite it took us more tan 2 hours to do the 90km until Ziguinchor, we got there shattered but safe. We had to drop off the car, show our passport and eventually pen our bag not less than 6 or 7 times, not to talk of the many garrisons, checkpoints and trenchs on the route. This is not just because of Casamance insugency t also because we were in a very strategic position with weapons and drug illecit traffic entering Senegal through the narcostate Guinea Bissau. However the landscape was great, lot of lakes and huge rivers, many mangrove plantations, everywhere a lush green and a fresh air. Ziguinchor revealed to be a pleasant, quiet, inexpensive and friendly town and as a prize for the tiring trip, last night we had the inspiration to go to the Alliance Franco-Senegalaise that organized a marvellous concert called Berimbaobab. As you can imagine it was a "melange" of Brazilian (especially from Joao Pessoa and Maranhao regions) and African music and cultures, a return the Brazilan origins of the slaves coming from Africa, a wonderful mix of dances, percussions, sweet guitar Bossa Nova style and trumpets and Djembe. The rythm was so powerful that finally even the old African guardian, even the students come there climbed the stage and started to dance wildely, such a great night. Africa I a loving you.

Wow Gambia

yesterday we visited Banjul, the small capital where the Govern house is located. As usual there were lot of soldiers around and some of them were controlling the download of soybean oil containers, later I discovered that strangely enough Gambia has abandoned to use and produce the peanut or sunflower oil. If Senegal is producing very very little of what it uses, Gambia is at the nearly nothing level despite it has a very green and fertile soil (for example we bought Morocco mandarin at 3 euro per kilo, which is much more expensive than in Italy)where we can see lot of cabbage, salad and other vegetable to be cultivated. As soon as we dropped off the van a young Gambian guy, Alpha, approached us and asked us to be our official guide, well despite I was quite suspicious, I understood that once more Ale took the right decision in letting him help us for little money and the promise of some more future clients. He showed us the little market, the colourful fruit and vegetables stalls, the awful smelling meat rooms (I would dare you eating meat coming from here..), the few small fishes. He was really brave to bargain, convince and sometimes help me steal some good shots during our visit. Especially I enjoyed the sight of the many fishes salt-dried on the beach and mainly ready to be sold in Ghana where they are a national meal. We met fishermen repairing or building new boats, other sewing new nets and finally we got into the smoking beach where lot of medium size fishes were processed (boiled, cleaned, scales removed and smoked) in order to become smoked fish ready to be sold on the street or sold abroad. The place seemed a dark, smoky and rusty colonial factory the beach. Everybody seemed to know and respect our guide but even so we had to be fast with these poor people who were doing a very tiring job for very little money. We finished our visit with a decent meal (food is not a topic in Gambia in my opinion)in a Libanese restaurant.WE returned to Lamin house and had a cold shower and a couple of hours relax, talked with Lamin and some friends who all had voted for the president although noone of them seemed to like the economical situation of their country. Eating, transport, services are quite expensive in Gambia and are tailored with the Tourists needs. In other words tourism seems to be the only part of Gambian economy that works quite well. The night we went to Senegambia where we entered Tottis and then Wow disco. I enjoyed a lot the loud music and the mix of people inside. There was a incredible number of Afrina girls inside and soon I discovered that most of them were coming from Nigeria, Sierra Leone or Ghana (a kind of language brotherhood allow them to have a try in Gambia) but also from The French Guinea. All of them smoking, drinking and searching for..a good client. There were also lot of African men dressed in a rasta or rapper style, enjoying the music or searching also for their chance to a better life in fact I was not the only Toubab inside. I am not a psotitute fan but I do love the energy and the variety of these places, I spent the evening chatting with Maria, a lovely 24yo Gambian girl, who worked in a Coiffeuse Salon and spending the night in the hope to meet her Blue Prince.She was extremely disappointed when we announced her we were going to bed but I promised I would have called her the following day. During the evening there were several gulf of cold winds, as the previous night and I could not understand how was it possible to suffer from cold weather in West Africa. Maybe 18 degrees can sound as a ridicoulous cold but when the temperature drops of 6-8 degrees in a few hours you do feel it really unconfortable. The tin roof and doors of Lamin house (no glass in its windows) gave us small protection and although I was sleeping wearing shorts, shirt and socks, once more I woke up with a freezing feeling.  Cold in West Africa...my God!
Getting connected in Gambia requires  an Inshallah pray more than technical trust, considering that not so rarely part of this country are without electricity, without any explanation or advance planning.

Travelling into the Gambia

WE spent one extra day in Dakar in order to rest a little after our continuous rush among Dakar, Kaolak and Touba, then on thuersday morning we left early in the morning toward kaolak. It was not so easy to find the station of the departures to kaolak because the Bus service to casamance and Gambia was temporarely suspended due to some independentist assaults, however finally we got on the "Sept Place" wichi is a very old station wagon that has been modified in order to let 7 passengers travel unconfortably. Before leaving the driver did his prayers and despite the awful road until Fatick, despite the goats, the cows, despite some crazy overtakes toward crazy motodriver, Inshallah we arrived shattered in Kaolak where we decided to stop one day by Ale family in order to restore and to catch the fisrt boat to Banjul. We spent in a lazy way the hot afternoon in Kaolak trying to have a bath in the Kundham branch of sea but the sea level was too low, such a pity because last time although the water is really really salthy, I enjoyed its freezing waters. In the night all the pubs and discos would have been desert thus we prefered to go to bed early.
The crossing of the Senegal-Gambia borderr was fine but as usual we have been assaulted by moneychangers, 3 strong women who sent Ale in a total confusion making us a horrible exchange rate, however no problem. The boat was old, rusty and filthy but anyway filled with any kind of people, truck and animals. The heat was really strong and there was very little shelthering option however I took some nice photos (a gambian policeman asked me who had I been given the authority to take them...anyway as soon as I excused me he disappeared, probably he just needed to affirm his power)and to chat with a fine tall gambian girl who was just coming to visit her siuster in Serakounda. Finally we got in Bakau where we have been hosted by Ales friend Lamin, an artist, or better a genious of traditional music instruments carving. He continued the tradition started from his father and I am always ecstasieted by his ability to build Djembe, Lakora and Xilhophones. His house is a small, simple, clean and friendly apartment connected with his relatives small apartments so that every time in its courtyard there is a noisy and happy sound of women doing their houseduties and kids playing and shoutings. The toilets are openair so that while showering by a bucket I can enjoy the marvellous sightsee of the stars or of the blue sky.

Yoff Tonghor

This is one of the most typical places I have visited so far in Senegal. We returned here with Ale and his wife in order to buy a good fresh fish and as usual we have not been disappointed. The taxi left us in front of a sandy cul de sac with some tiny shops, small fish restaurants and a busy taxi and clients traffic jam. As soon as we stepped into the beach a huge, happy, shouting colourful crowd called us to catch our attention in the hope of a good business. When you get here in the late afternoon all the coloured fishermen boats are resting on the beach while the fishermen women and children have set tiny wooden stalls . I am always astonished to see such a variety of fishes: barracuda, butterfish, kingfish, snakefish, parrot fish and many more, from small to huge 6 or 10kg weight. When you start your choice and you bargain immediately a young woman approach you, keep silent and just follow you wherever you go...no need to say that her behaviour confused me so much, however as soon as we bought our 5 kg fishes I realized that she is one of the beach cleaners who support her family and her lovely kid (who is always scared of me) by cleaning in a very professional, but also dangerous way, the fishes that many clients come here to buy. Her knives are extremely sharp and she wears no protection gloves...of course we are not in Europe! It seems that Yoff is a very conservative district of Dakar, thats why it is even more difficult to take a photo if you are a Toubab, let s say that I needed the help of Ale to have some photos taken, except for the women who sold us the fish who were satisfied enough to let me take as many photos as I wished. Next to the seaside there are also many horsecarts where the women upload the fish they were not able to sell. Yoff Tonghor is definitively one of my favourite place as much as I know that Dyenoba will transform this fish, some rice and some vegetables (Tamarind is a must in senegalese receipts) in a huge and delicious Cepbujen that we have eaten all together with Ale brother Selin Touba, a Senegalese friend girl of mine, Fatoumata, and our Italian friend Carlo who is currently doing some research about Senegalese fight Bore, in order to write a reportage for an iItalian magazine. Of course Dyenoba kept some food for the apartment keeper who is quite poor, this is a strong part of tradition and solidarity typical of Senegal a country who can be considered poor but which is actually extremely rich and interesting.