Ambling in Africa: What an idiot ...

As Leonard Cohen once said - "want you it Dakar"? Haha!!

Hey Barry!!! Cheer up :)

Barry's face tells the story but allow me to fill in some of the blanks. Just a bit past St. Loius Senegal is where we arranged to visit Djoudj National Bird Sanctuary.... or in my now most excellent French -- Parc National des Oiseaux du Djoudj. It's one of the world's true natural treasures with over 400 bird species in the park. It's a beautiful wetlands where much of the adventure revolves around a guided (in french) boat tour through the park.

It was relaxing beautiful and slightly surreal as we puttered contentedly along in the early morning hours. A light rain was falling adding to the slightly mystical nature of the journey. Particularly gorgeous were the water lilies poking up from the murky depths in the most spectacular of fashions. Like thousands of runway models or red carpet attendees at the Oscars, Tyra Banks could not have posed more beautifully.

The jewel in the "Dj oh you Dj" crown was Pelican rock where we watched fascinated as they flapped scraped and sqwaked enthusiastically. Nature's nightclub was alive and well with the Dj pumping some bumping tunes -- as pelicans grooved to those sweet ancient tunes -- in a mating dance of spectacular beauty. Well in truth it stank a bit -- but well worth it -- plug your nose and enjoy!!

Hey Mildred have you seen my car keys I gotta bounce -- they're not in your pouch? How many times to I gotta tell you?

Keeping Layno out of jail

While I have a history of doing dumb shit - this was likely a top 10 boneheaded maneuver. As we travelled back to Dakar from St. Louis, and as mentioned previously -- on roads where 3 wheeled caravans compete to load an increasingly ridiculous number of travelers wherever they will fit-- it was not surprising that we came across a bus that had overturned on the road.

Suddenly thinking that rather than Layne and Barry we were Woodward and Bernstein -- I started snapping pictures of the messy scene. As we came up on the scene which was necessarily caotic -- a military guy -- maybe police, stepped up to grab my camera. Somehow the taxi rolled out of his reach and in a moment of sheer stupidity (still thinking I'm Bob Woodward) I slipped the SD card from the camera and tossed it under the seat.

Though I protested, initially refusing to give up my unit -- the military guy took the camera and marched off to where a bunch of other policeish folks were dealing with a scene made messier as there had been a load of water mellons on the roof of the bus when it flipped. Jumping out of the cab and thinking righteous indignation would be a good strategy to get my camera back..... an already hot situation got hotter. Our taxi driver was able to intervene in the "negotiation" as they demanded to know where the pictures were. I was trying to convince them that the camera was not working ... that why it said "no memory card" all the while sweating profusely. The situation finally diffused when a senior officer got involved. It was a tense 30 minutes and a lesson that when in a foreign country -- don't get into a fight with the police. What an idiot ... I nearly ended up on jail.

Ile De Goree

Imagine ... sleeping tlike this -- day after day after day.

Ile De Goree was the first with brush with one of the topics we had to come to West Africa to explore. I have always had an interest in knowing more about the transatlantic slave trade -- this curiosity heightened by my time here in Africa working should to shoulder with people I had previously no knowledge or understanding of.

Ile Goree is as pretty a place as you've ever seen. An island maybe 5 kms off the coast of Dakar - it's shimmering beauty belies the tragedy that persisted here for over 300 years. I won't go to far at this point as my next blog will be about Ghana where we got up as close as is possible to what I would say is the most horrific and greatest failure of humankind.

Lastly, I want to thank Barry for taking a chance on this cool little boutique hotel. Set in the middle of nowhere, the 92 year old Argentinian owner has been crafting this unique little guest house on the rocks for years. Every little corner has his fingerprints and uber creative style. We enjoyed a fish dinner and beers but more .. perched on the ricks -- we watched the sun slide seductively into the ocean as the waves of the mighty Atlantic pounded the shore in celebration of the end of yet another spectacular day!