From SENEGAL to Basse, THE GAMBIA - Dec 2, 2005

Weather: Hot

In contrast to Senegal, Gambian Immigration and Customs were time-consuming and I had the feeling that they were angling for a 'dash' (a bribe). There was a long chat while the Immigration Officer looked through my passport and I made favourable comments like "It's good to be in an English-speaking country again" and "Australia and The Gambia are both in Commonwealth" in the hope of endearing myself to him. I received my entry stamp and then there was a long chat while a Customs Officer looked through my bag and I repeated the favourable comments until I was allowed to go. The driver and the passengers, locals from The Gambia and Senegal, were waiting for me, which made a change as its usually the other way round.

The dirt track continued all the way to Basse Sante Su, a crumbling colonial town befitting such a basic entry road, although the many shops were testament to Basse's reputation as a trading town. As we passed through town I saw the Basse Guesthouse and the transportation depot where we stopped was not much further, so I decided on the guesthouse as first choice for accommodation.

As I left the depot, many men asked me to change money. I enquired into the exchange rate, 5,000CFA for D250 (The Gambian currency, Dalasi, is abbreviated to 'D'), but I hoped to be able to use my Visa card for a cash withdrawal at a bank.

The Basse Guesthouse was old & decrepit, like the manager, with no electricity (in the entire town), but at least the grim, shared facilities had running water. It was dirty & basic and cost D150 (~Oz$7.50) and was OK for a single night stopover.

The manager didn't speak much English, but I was able to direct questions to a young man who answered my many questions about Basse and jokingly said I would have to pay him if I kept asking. I was able to confirm the locations of the banks and Traditions, a restaurant where I planned to eat, plus the Dalasi exchange rate for CFA (i.e. D1=20CFA). In order to pay for my room upfront as requested, I changed a 10,000CFA note for D500 (~Oz$25) with a woman at the hotel, who I later learned was the Madam for the other women lingering at the hotel, as I considered it preferable to changing it on the street.

Then despite being told that the banks were closed, I discovered that they were open, but it made little difference. They didn't do cash advances on credit cards. So much for my hope that there would be an ATM machine, it was three years after the publication of the Lonely Planet guidebook and bank services had declined rather than expanded. Still I was able to enjoy the bank's airconditioning (obviously generator-powered) and take a short break from the heat & humidity. But it meant I would have to go to the main centres on the coast, 330km away, to find an ATM and I only had enough cash (Cedis & CFAs) to last a few days.

Dusk was approaching, so I headed to the river for my first look at The Gambia and to have dinner at a recommended café, Traditions. The Gambia was smaller than expected with only a little activity around the ferry crossing. A fisherman offered to take me on a boat trip to see hippos the next day, for a fee, however I didn't have the cash nor the desire to stay in Basse, so I declined the offer.

Traditions overlooked the ferry crossing and was a good place to sit with a drink, although there was no beer and soft drinks cost D25 (~Oz$1.25, which I was to learn was the standard tourist price - they could be bought for as little as D8 ~Oz$0.40 in local shops). I also discovered that they offered rooms for the same price, but much better than, the Basse Guesthouse. disappointing because

I was offered omelet & chips for D100 (~Oz$5), but was then told that chips were off because they took a long time to prepare, there was no electricity and it would soon be dark. Instead I had omelet & fried corned beef for D150 (~Oz$7.50), the price I was originally quoted, but said was too expensive. While I waited for dinner I looked at the art & craft that inspired the name, Traditions. There was little on display and it was uninspiring, as was dinner.

On the way back to the Guesthouse I met a Dane and we arranged to meet at the garage (the term used in The Gambia to describe the location for public transportation) at 8am the next day and travel to Jangjangbureh together.

Night fell and silence descended on the town. Every shop I passed on the way back to the guesthouse appeared closed, but when I ventured out for water later in the night, I found many shops open and many streetside stalls, both lit by candles or gas lanterns. I bought water (D25) from a shop with electricity and bought watermelon on the street that was very good.

Then I returned to my very hot room, especially in my tent where I confined myself to escape the mosquitoes. I had a restless sleep and looked forward to reaching a town with electricity, so that I could use my fan.