February 18 :: Mbour, Senegal
February 18 :: Mbour, Senegal :: 10km / 2981km total
The night scene in Saly was a bit of a bust although I did get acquainted with French disco music... have you ever heard French disco music? Don't worry, there's no rush to go out and buy a cd of it... you are missing nothing. Either way, a late 9:30am wakeup left me with little cycling time before the furnace set in, but I decided to move a bit down the coast to a more relaxed, Senegalese atmosphere. Mbour is a fishing village on the edge of the tourist mecca of Saly, and I found a pleasant little hotel. There are tourists here as well, mostly daytripping out from Saly to get a glimpse of Africa. I walked the beach back towards Saly, to the outer fringe of the tourist strip, for a fantastic shrimp curry lunch.
All through this trip when local people ask me where I'm from, and I answer 'Canada', they immediately reply 'oh, yes! Quebec? Montreal?' When I say 'Toronto', you know, the biggest and most important city in Canada, every single time a glazed look crosses their face, and they've never heard of it (well, one or two savvy touts in Marrakech had heard of Toronto). Their unfamiliarity with English Canada is not really that surprising, considering that i) friends/relatives that have emigrated (escaped?) to Canada would head towards Quebec, being Francophone like themselves, and ii) my hunch is that a disproportionate number of Canadian tourists, businessmen, and NGO workers in West Africa are from Quebec, given the language advantage that they would have compared to, say, me. I also don't wonder if there's some sort of bias in their education as relates to geography, with a legacy of French rule.
The past few days in Dakar and Saly are starting to wear upon my nerves regarding touts and countless insincere conversations that invariably lead towards a shop, restaurant, or flat-out asking of cash. Up until now such incidents were far and few between... even Marrakech and Fes were not bad for this, under Morocco's new and strict tourist-friendly policies. I can handle, say, up to four conversations per day, every day where people just want my money, but 50 to 100 is too much. So now I just walk around with a dumb look on my face (easy to do?) when random people speak French at me, I'm only speaking English... except when I need food or a hotel! If English-speaking Gambia is bad for this I may have to switch, speaking only French...
The night scene in Saly was a bit of a bust although I did get acquainted with French disco music... have you ever heard French disco music? Don't worry, there's no rush to go out and buy a cd of it... you are missing nothing. Either way, a late 9:30am wakeup left me with little cycling time before the furnace set in, but I decided to move a bit down the coast to a more relaxed, Senegalese atmosphere. Mbour is a fishing village on the edge of the tourist mecca of Saly, and I found a pleasant little hotel. There are tourists here as well, mostly daytripping out from Saly to get a glimpse of Africa. I walked the beach back towards Saly, to the outer fringe of the tourist strip, for a fantastic shrimp curry lunch.
All through this trip when local people ask me where I'm from, and I answer 'Canada', they immediately reply 'oh, yes! Quebec? Montreal?' When I say 'Toronto', you know, the biggest and most important city in Canada, every single time a glazed look crosses their face, and they've never heard of it (well, one or two savvy touts in Marrakech had heard of Toronto). Their unfamiliarity with English Canada is not really that surprising, considering that i) friends/relatives that have emigrated (escaped?) to Canada would head towards Quebec, being Francophone like themselves, and ii) my hunch is that a disproportionate number of Canadian tourists, businessmen, and NGO workers in West Africa are from Quebec, given the language advantage that they would have compared to, say, me. I also don't wonder if there's some sort of bias in their education as relates to geography, with a legacy of French rule.
The past few days in Dakar and Saly are starting to wear upon my nerves regarding touts and countless insincere conversations that invariably lead towards a shop, restaurant, or flat-out asking of cash. Up until now such incidents were far and few between... even Marrakech and Fes were not bad for this, under Morocco's new and strict tourist-friendly policies. I can handle, say, up to four conversations per day, every day where people just want my money, but 50 to 100 is too much. So now I just walk around with a dumb look on my face (easy to do?) when random people speak French at me, I'm only speaking English... except when I need food or a hotel! If English-speaking Gambia is bad for this I may have to switch, speaking only French...
posted by Graham Durrant at 5:55 AM
4 Comments:
Good thing you have lots of show experience in dealing with people and their 'fun' ways. It'll serve you well in dealing with this folk. I can just imagine you!
god, where's me gun?
i couldn't handle this. i not have the internal fabric.
I wanna hear more about french disco music! ha ha. I am really enjoying this trip of yours Graham. What an adventure.
Its not easy, at times. But I have it easy, really - the worst places for touts are places I'm fortunate to be able to avoid - bus stations, train stations, and taxi stands [except for my short sore ankle stint in Morocco]. Plus, when you're rolling through a town at 20km/h scanning for a hotel or restaurant it keeps the touts at bay, and I can always whoosh away from a crowd or situation I don't like.
The real heroes are the backpackers who have to suffer through countless day-in and day-out negotiations, scams, inflated ticket prices, refusals, etc. I couldn't do it, I don't think.
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