Back home in the Gambia

Well once again it feels like such a long time and another epic journey since I last wrote a post from the Daffeh's compound in Brufut on the coast of the Gambia. I spent around 5 days there with the sisters and Dembo who was visiting from Finland. Dembo had been my student in the village primary school when I was teaching here in 1995 but now lives in Finland and is part of a new generation of Gambians living the dream of a European life. It was so hard to leave the warmth of the family home but the time to move on came once again.

First 30km south to Kartong, the last village along the coast before the border with the troubled Casamance region of Senegal. This is a lovely area further away from the tourists and infamous beach bums and hustlers that prey relentlessly upon toubabs (white people) on the beach up north by the hotels.  I had planned to stay with an English guy called Peter Verne who I had met at sunrise festival in the summer who has a wife and compound here. I met him through our mutual friend Billy, otherwise known as Undercover Hippy, from Bristol, who spent a few months here with a guitar a year or two back winning over the hearts of the Gambians with his musical talents. I have met many people who talk fondly of him and he seems to have made quite an impression on the crew here. Peter was away in England having left just a couple of days earlier but Mamboi, his wife, and the rest of the family welcomed me into their forest compound with true Gambian hospitality. Here was another example of people living the dream amongst the palms and trees of the forest; Oh the simple life out in the bush!

I stayed just a few days but had a great time exploring the village, forest and nearby coast a little and just hanging out with nice folk in the compound. 

the boys fixing the generator again.....

Mamboi and the kids making baobab juice from the fruits of this amazing tree.....

Palms on the river bordering Senegal.

From Kartong I travelled just a short distance inland to Brikama; possibly Gambia’s largest town and stronghold of Mandinka culture. Here I stayed with another old student of mine and good friend called Famara but like so many Gambians is better known by his nickname of Killy. He took me around town to visit all sorts of people including almost a hundred members of his family. We also visited some local musicians and had a fantastic time hanging out with Tata Dindin and his band. I took a few lessons from the guitarist learning some funky little Afro Mandinka riffs and one afternoon went with the whole crew in a heavily loaded minibus, with the entire sound system stacked up on the roof, to a concert in a neighborhood to celebrate the president’s recent election victory. It was a wild experience and quite unlike any party I’d been to. The band rocked it with their Kora driven afro funk and the audience of women dressed in wonderful colorful patterned dresses praised the band by literally throwing money at Tata as he sang. Tata continues the Mandinka tradition of the griots as praise singers and the more he praised the individuals of the local community the more money the women lavished him with in celebration. Take note all ye poverty stricken Brighton musicians if you want to make some cash!

We also paid a visit to a couple of up and coming reggae singers called Philantropist and Messiah… Yes there’s a singer here that calls himself The Messiah which seems kind of extreme in terms of bigging your-self up even for a reggae mc. They were both sound guys though and once again the whole crew were fantastically friendly and welcoming and were very happy to spend the day in the yard chatting, jamming and cooking up a feast of rice and peanuts in new variations….. Yes I have eaten a lot of rice and peanuts by now but still I love it. Tonight we had rice with fish cooked in palm oil, another classic of West African cuisine.

From Brikama it was time to make the trek up river 120 km to the village of Kwinella where I lived all those years ago and taught in the primary school at the tender age of 19. I lived with the Daffeh family here, and it was to their compound, the Daffeh Kunda, that I was now heading. Of course all the children have all grown up and moved on and Ba Felidge (the dad) complains of the place being too quiet now. On my first visit both his wives, Kadi and Fatou, were here and at least a dozen of his children filled the place but now things are quieter and the old simple rooms have been knocked down and replaced by new larger buildings that even have water and solar electricity. Development is slowly coming for some Gambians whilst it seems for others the simplest amenities such as water, housing or enough rice to feed the family can be a real issue. It is here in this village that the Fresh Start Foundation concentrates many of the projects but more about them to come.

It is so good to be back here. Every day I am greeted by people who remember me from back in the day. Some people that I haven’t seen for 17 years but still joyfully sing out my name in greeting and very quickly the kids all join in the call. It really is somehow like coming home after all those thousands of miles traveling through unknown places and meeting people for the first time but here there is history and shared experience and so much kindness and openness that’s almost overwhelming at times. As well as catching up with old friends I’ve been helping to establish a community allotment project set up by Fresh Start and have been digging the rock hard sun baked earth and watering seedlings. It’s so inspiring and great to get down to doing something useful. I am also running workshops on climate change in the secondary school all week which will be a whole different story from working in the UK.


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 I’ll be here in the village for the next week or so and then Ramsey and Tom from substantial films will be here filming for 10 days.

Check out the movie trailer here…..http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7tVFHv6a-A
and their visions project here.... http://visions-series.com/

And then the adventures will continue into Mali!
Much love from West Africa.
Ed

From Senegal to Gambia to welcome in 2012

It was so hard to leave the wonderful crew from Guinea in St Louis but after a week on the beach the calling of the open road was to strong to resist. I left a couple of days befor Christmas trusting that i would be in the right place for the special day and excited to be on the road again diving back into the unknown, and that's really how it felt this time.

The first day back on the road was just a short trip down the coast to the next town of Gandiol. I had heard about a lodge on the water side that was meant to be very nice so I payed a visit to the Zebrabar. It was strange to be in a place with lots of toubabs (white people) again. The name apparently comes from 'two bob' as in money back in the day, and seems to maintain some of it's original meaning for sure. It was such a paradise that i couldn't resist staying a night and i spent the afternoon on the lagoon in a kayack borrowed from the lodge. It was bliss and well worth the cost of staying the night. Most of the other people staying there were driving 4 X 4s across Africa but there was also an English couple driving an old Morris Minor to Cape town. It seems that we really are an eccentric nation and long may it continue! Another way is always possible.
The next day the road continued along the coast for a while through fishing villages with palm trees and pirogues pulled up on the beach. This was my first day having to deal with the red sandy routes of West Africa and i rattled over the corrugated tracks and got stuck in the sand but i was so happy to be here it really didn't matter. Then the road turned inland and i was back on tarmac again. I cycled for hours through vast open bush with occasional grazing herds of cattle or sheep accompanied by their shepherds. There was very little traffic on the road but for the odd horse cart and overloaded mercedes vans that are the local public transport. Here they are wonderfully decorated and adorned with pictures of the great Marabout of Touba where i was now headed.
I decided to spend that night in a village but in the first place that i stopped and asked, people seemed quiet bemused by me and no one spoke any french so i continued to the village of N'Diagne. Here i was taken to the compound of Iba Guisse where i could pitch my tent and pass the night. Iba was a wonderful character who was both a vet and an artist. I witnessed him treat a sheep with a prostate uterus that evening and this was something i remember well from my own childhood growing up on the farm, but needless to say the approach to treatment here was quiet different and i don't need to go into all the details now.

We spent that evening chatting and drinking atire (sweet strong green tea) which is the favourite pass time around here. As an artist he felt apart from the rest of the village who were all farmers and saw the world in a different way. He had moved from the city to seek the peaceful life of the village and was actually quiet an enlightened character and we very much enjoyed our conversations together. This was Christmas eve and the next day i would reach Touba, the most holly city of Senegal.
Another day of riding through the dry bush of Northern Senegal on potholed roads and passing only a few small towns but plenty of small simple villages of thatched houses and the endless calls of "Toubab toubab, donne moi agent!" and i arrived in Touba. Iba's friend Talla had arranged for me to stay with a friend of his there called Magga Tall, so eventually i found his home among the sandy streets. Magga is a welder and a hard working man. He runs a metal workshop outside the front of his house with a whole bunch of lads working with him. Once again i was blessed by the great Wollof hospitality of 'Taranga'.

Touba is a very special place and probably the most holy city in Senegal and this is why i had decided to be here for Christmas day and visit the Grand Mosque of Touba. It was indeed a great blessing to be here on this day and also the day of the new moon that is of significance for Islam and the 'Baay Fall' here. The stunning mosque houses the tombe of the saint and Marabout; Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba. There are wonderful stories surrounding his history involving great miracles including laying his prayer mat on the waters of the ocean to pray. This website has some nice info on the place and some stories of this legendary spiritual master if you want to know more as the stories are to many to begin to tell them here. check out: http://sacredsites.com/africa/senegal/touba.html/

From Touba it was another 3 days ride to The Gambia cycling through so many villages and open wild country side of bush land and flat delta country. I stayed one night in a bar-hotel in Fatick run by Christians which means that they were completely sozzled on boxing day but i reckon they are drinking there most days anyway. My last night in Senegal was back at the waterside but this time surrounded by mangroves on the river banks. And then to The Gambia!

For the final 40km to the boarder i felt like a long distant runner sprinting towards the finish. I had rested well the night befor and had the wind behind my so I cruised triumphantly into The Gambia.... well sort of. I was held up for quite a while by the immigration officers who seemed keen to get something from me; but the didn't, not a penny and on i went.

My first mission was to find an old friend I had met first back in 1995 here in The Gambia but then have had crazy coincidental meetings with both in the Gambia and in South Africa over the years since then. I have so many stories to tell of the fantastic Njankob Njob but you'll have to wait until the book is written for he shall have a whole chapter to himself. Any way, I found him sure enough, drunk and out on the street ranting at passes by. This did not bode well but we had some great times together over the next few days once he had straightened out a bit and was making more sense... well, a little more sense anyway for it seems that the years have taken its toll on this great man and many would call him crazy, or simply mad.

Still it was a pleasure to see him again, we played music together in the shade as the fisherman tinkered with their boats. I stayed at Lou's riverside compound known simply as 'Paradise' and it was beautiful and once again a lovely crew of folk living there who looked after me so well and again i didn't want to leave but i had it in mind to reach The Daffee Family for new year. Which i did, and this is where i have been staying for the last few days resting up and preparing myself for the next chapter of the journey.

In 1995 I came to The Gambia and worked in a little school up river in the village of Kwinella as a volunteer. I was the tender age of 19 and had never been out of Europe let alone the wilds of rural West Africa. The experience blew me away and became a profound time of learning and growth. Whilst here I lived with The Daffee family in the village and  have kept contact with them ever since. They treat me as a member of the family now and all the children are grown up doing all sorts of things all over the world. Lamin their oldest son now lives in England but has set up and runs a great little charity here called the Fresh Start Foundation and it is this charity that i have been raising funds for through this cycle ride.
Remember you can easily make a donation at  http://www.justgiving.com/ed-cycles-south 
Take a look at their website as they are doing some incredible work here. I will do a post soon all about what they are up to. I will stay in The Gambia for the next month and support a project that they are running offering workshops in schools around climate change. This as many of you know is what i do a lot of in the UK so it will be interesting to have a whole different perspective on the topic here.


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I feel like i have left out so many photos and stories from the journey of the last week or so but this post is plenty long enough as it is and what with the power cuts and the lunch break of rice and fish it has taken most of the day to write.

So I wish you all a wonderful 2012 and much love from The Gambia, the smiling coast as it is known.

Merry Christmas from Senegal

Its hard to believe that its Christmas just a couple of days away whilst here the sun has been shining and the crazy life of a Senegalese fishing town goes on around me. I've been here a week now and it's going to be very hard to leave indeed.


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I have been made to feel very welcome amongst a crew of guys from Guinea Conakry who live together here in a small ecampermant on the beach just out of town. We've been Playing lots of music together and feasting on fine west african cooking involving mounds of rice and plenty of fish, I love it, and it's exactly where i wanted to be. But there is still a few hundred more kilometers to go befor i arrive in The Gambia and soon it will be time to hit the road again.

That one above is my christmas card to you.
Yes yes yes, to white sandy beaches and midwinter sun just a cycle ride away...

One of the high points of this week was a day in a pirogue out on the water casting the fishing nets and catching the most delicious fresh fish for that nights dinner. It was a little dream of mine whilst cycling here to go out in the boats and it was indeed a dream come true and a blissful day out fishing. I'm seriously thinking of a career change.

 

 

The fishing pirogues are some how so iconic for this part of the atlantic coast just like the dhows of East Africa and form the centre of activities in town. I hope to have the opportunity to spend many more days out with the fisherman and messing about in boats over the next month on the west coast.

So i would just like to wish every one a very merry Christmas and festive season where ever you may be. I hope that you enjoy your holidays and get a chance to connect with you're fanilly and loved ones. Who knows where i'll be but for sure it will be some where in Africa, just as i'd hoped.

Much love to one and all.

Ed

West Africa At Last

Well it's time for the next eciting installment of Ed's bycicle adventures and as you can imagine there are so many tales tell and i berely know where to begin.......

I'm in St Louis on the coast of Senegal.
Yes i made it across the desert  and now i have properly arrived in West Africa. I'm staying in a small encampment of musicians from Guinea Connackry on the beach. Living in rickety grass huts and spending the days playing music and hanging out. This is the life! and exactly what i hoped to be doing here. It's a fantasticly vibrant city on an island in the north of Senegal. It's one of the few places here with lovely old coloneal buildings left by the french, however crumbling they may be, and the place is buzzing with so much going on. This is essentially a fishing town and the water side is a crazy hive of activity building boats, mending nets, sorting, drying, smoking and seling fish. It stinks and to an English eye is absolute chaotic madness. Goats and sheep every where, children running about the place, horse carts, trucks, rubbish spread about everywhere, dirt, and every colour of the universe in the most fantastic dance of creation. I love it! I'll stay here for a liitle while so you'll get pics next time but here's a little taster:
Abduli making the all important Atire tea...

So How did i get here?
Well the last post i wrote in Boujdour in Western Sahara and the going was pretty tuff. Thankyou so much for those folk who left comments on reasons to do a journey of this sort. I found them all really inspiring and the last couple of weeks have been a huge learning experience for me. After a few more days cycling through the desert i was in a pretty good rhythm with it all. Long distances and endless emptyness. Most days had a hazy layer of cloud that kept the temperature down and created a mysteroius white washed effect over everything. I slept a couple of nights camped by service stations as there were no longer any towns along the way and continued to meet good people and largely enjoy life on the edge.

There were even the occasional signs to say i was heading in the right direction!

One afternoon a met a very friendly crew of guys living in tiny fishing huts nestled into the cliffs. These were pretty much the only people living in this part of the desert and they came from the city to work with the fishing for a couple of weeks at a time. We marvelled at one another for a while, drank tea together and i carried on my merry way.

That night i found myself i little unstuck as it was getting late and the service station i was hoping to get some supplies had nothing to offer. There was a campsight 30km further on but it would soon be dark and i was at a loss as to what to do. Just then a van pulled up with two French guys who offered me a lift in the right direction so i jumped on board with little idea as to how events would unfold. It turned out that they where heading to Bambako where Frank ran music projects for blind kids and that night we had a great little jam in the car park of a service station where we camped together. After that i found myself cought up in the flow of things. We were having a good time hanging out and had a lot in common including our route. I ended up excepting the offer of a lift to Nouakchott, the capital of Mauratania. I had had it in mind that i may take a lift of this part of the journey as it is this strectch of 450km of road where there have been kidnappings in recent years and the British foreign office advises against all travel. However if you were to allways follow their advice you would probably be to scared to laeve the front door. There was also a strong east wind blowing so i was happy to be cruising at speed in the van rather than battling the elements and risking dodgy encounters. Having said that I'm sure it would have been fine and infact i found myself feeling like i had missed out on part of the journey and let myself down. But what the heck i was having a good time and continued to hang out with these guys for a few days in Nouakchott playing music and enjoying the connection. I will checkout their projects when i reach Bambako, hopefully in a few months time.

It was as if someone had pressed a fast forward button for a few days of my journey and the xperience in the van answered many of my earlyer quetions as to why i wanted to travel by bike. It is indeed a completely different experience and people treat you in a very different way. I was very happy to get back on my bike for the 300 km across the remainder of Mauratania to where i am now in Senegal.

Entering Mauratania the desert begins to change straight away. First there is 4kms of "no-mans land" to cross after Morroco that belongs to neither country and is littered with abandoned vehicles and has no tarmac but a rough track winding it's way between the frontiers. There are also people looking to buy and sell vehicles or change money and ofcourse quite a scetchy vibe going on.

But once in Mauratania the desert is more inhabited with paople living in huts and Bedouin tents along the road side and for the first time in days there are actually trees and tufts of grass. Heards of camels, goats and even cattle start to appear and more and more villages along the way.

The Capital of Nouakchott is an incredible meeting of black West African cultures with the more Arab peoples of north Africa. There are people from Mali, Senegal, The Ivory Coast and all over, here to do some kind of business or other and the city has that chaotic West African feel thats going to be the norm from now on. One afternoon I paid a visit to the Gambian Embassy and had tea with the Ambassador who was expecting me as he is an Uncle to Lamin from the Fresh Start Foundation. It was lovely to meet the guys there and speak English and we had our photo taken together with the bike so hopefully i will have that soon to put up on this blog.

I have feeling that this post is probably just about long enough already so i'll draw it to a close now and tell you all about Senegal after i have been here for a little but here's a few pictures of the road south from Nouakchott to give you a taste of what a bike ride in this part of the world is like.

all the best to ona and all from the open road.
Ed

Plenty of time to my self.

This sure is a long road indeed and there ain't nothing i can do but just carry on peddling. Well, i could ofcourse jump on a truck and catch a lift for a few hundred kilometers and the thought has entered my mind many many times over the last few days. But i guess i must like the challenge, or maybe i'm just mad..... answers on a post card to......

But really, I have indeed wondered what this is all about, as you can imagine, and why anyone would embark on such a mission in the first place. I have my reasons, my big visions and motivations but it isn't allways easy keeping the vision in focus so i would love to hear from you as to what you think its all about. What does it mean to do a journey like this? Maybe I'm just looking for a bit of encouragement when the going gets tuff or perhaps it really is a total waste of time.... what do you reckon? Please leave a comment below.

And back to the blog;
I'm in Boujdour, another coastal desert town, and resting up for a day befor heading ever southwards. Now the distances are so epic i'm covering around 140km in a day which takes it out of you. So a day of rest was well needed.
The people here have been so friendly and welcoming as they have in all of southern Morroco. I'll sit in a cafe and moments later my neighbour will be chatting away with me asking questions of what i'm up to. I love the response and general disbelief when i explain that i have cycled from England and heading to The Gambia. There's a gentleness and relaxed way of being around here. The men seem to have all the time in the world to sit around in cafes and watch the world go by. What the women are up to, i don't know as most of them are hidden away probably making the world go round in far more usefull ways than us boys.

The road continues to follow the coast some of the time and then dip inland for a while where there really is very little variation in the landscape and continues to look mostly like this;

Thankfully there's not to much in the way of traffic passing this way but there are still plenty trucks and quite often they'll pass with the beeping of horns and waves of encouragement. This feels great untill the aftermath of a great force of hot wind mixed with sand and exhaust fumes hits me as i brace myself and hold course and the truck passes on. There are also the odd heard of camels and a few amusing road signs including;

..... clearly there is a danger of splashing water.....????

watch out for the sand.......
But my favourtite was this one;

When i saw this a become very excited that perhaps there maybe other cyclists on the road as i had not yet met any. A few kilometers later, or was it a hundred.... i realised that it must have been put there just for me and that made me feel much safer indeed.
and this one....

ohps

There are police checks all along the way aswell and the police have all been really friendly and equally bemused as to what I'm doing. One told me about someone thay had met once who was doing something similar for charity and i explained that i was doing the same however he was unimpressed when i told him how much i had raised so far. This got me to thinking about how to raise the profile of this trip and try to raise more cash for the Fresh Start foundation in The Gambia.

Firstly a massive thank you to those of you who have supported this project in all sorts of ways, only one of which is by donating cash. It would be great if any one would like to put it out on their own networks, have links on websites, or send twitters, of which i know nothing, or tell their rich friends or generally spread the word in anyway that works for you. when i reach the Project in the Gambia I'll send lots of pics and more info about whats going there which will help the whole thing make a bit more sense.
In the meantime big love to you all. I've got another 1000km of desert to cycle through befor Christmas.
Untill nexttime, here's another picture of some camels cause i love em,

All the best
Ed

Where the desert meets the sea

I'm 3 days into the desert now and it feels like a very long road to Mauratania.
A long, straight, flat road of empty desert with the pounding Atlantic Ocean on my right and the endless Sahara on my left. Its going to be at least a week of this but thankfully there are a handfull of towns and villages along the way to seek food and shelter, internet cafes and entertaining locals.
But a lot of the looks like this:

From Tafroute I headed west out of the mountains of the Anti Atlas to Tiznit and to the coast passing through Mirleft and Sidi Ifni. I stayed on a great little beach nestled into the cliffs but I can't remember the name of the place and it wasn't on my map, but some how i found myself there. From the cliffs huge red sandstone headlands jutted out to sea and over the years had been eroded into the most fantastic natural arches.

It was a secret little paradise with just a handfull of folk staying there and perfect to take it easy befor the long days cycling in the desert. These began from Guelmim heading south west to Tan Tan which was a dramatic ride through mountains and sandstorms with crazy winds cutting across the road blowing fine red dust over everything. But the ride was beautiful all the same.

That day also was my first propper meeting with the camels of the desert; first the road sign and the the real thing at watering time by the roadside.

I have got into a bit of routine now and a generally covering about 120 km each day on these flat roads and
as you can imagine i have so many photos i'd like to upload for your viewing pleasure but this computer is being so painfully slow that i think i've reached my threshold with technology for now so i'm gonna call it a night. Any way all the best from this little town of Tarfaya that already feels like the far ends of the earth but is only realy just the beginning of this long road across the Sahara.


Agra