THE END.........and the beginning

Dakar, our last stop, is perfectly situated on a beautiful, rocky stretch of the Atlantic coast, and in fact, contains the westernmost point of Africa – that part of the continent closest to the U.S.  It’s a typically noisy, hectic, crowded, dirty African city, but it’s a city that is obviously on the move.   New construction, gorgeous high-rises, 5-star hotels and waterfront condos and villas were everywhere to be seen.  While police were expertly conducting traffic along the narrow streets, Muslim crowds kneeled en masse, by the hundreds,  outside the Grand Mosque, taking over the streets and walkways of the central city to chant their Friday afternoon prayers.  Pickpockets too, were out in force, trying to pick the pockets of no less than 8 of the members of our group.   (They were not successful.)  

We took a clean, efficient, leak-free ferry to Ile de Goree, an island 20 minutes offshore, where captured Africans were held before being shipped off to slavery in the Americas - a fitting way to end the trip in much the same way we had begun it nearly 7  weeks ago in Ghana.   The guide at the prison explained that perhaps one reason that there are so many talented black athletes in America is because only the tallest, strongest, fastest, healthiest slaves were purchased at the slave auctions of Africa and survived the journey across the sea.   The Island was gorgeous, peaceful, and a relaxing, smog-free escape from the commotion of the city.

Dakar is also the capital of Afro beat music and those of us who have not yet left the city for home or further journeys spent the night at one of the well-known open-air clubs.  The music was fantastic, but I was way too tired to dance.   I left at midnight to pack and get a few hours sleep.   I was leaving at 4 am for my flight to Cape Town, the restorative interlude between Legs 1 & 2 of this African voyage.

BEAUTIFUL ST. LOUIS

St. Louis – the next to last stop on the trip – was the first French settlement in all of Africa and sits on Senegal’s Barbary Coast.   Like its counterpart in Paris, the city is an island situated in the middle of the Senegal River just before it empties into the Atlantic.  A bridge that connects the island to the mainland was designed by none other than Eiffel and, rather than open like a US draw bridge to permit boat passage, the center portion swivels out.  A second bridge, on the far side of the island, connects to a long peninsula, more like a sandbar really, that extends to the Mauritania border, only a few miles north.   Life on this stretch of barren land looks like a scene from The Pirates of Penzance.  The face of every man – and woman – in Africa, from Saharan Tuaregs and Muslim nomads to Nigerian traders, roam the streets while brightly colored ships, crowd  the shoreline.  Given its location at the edge of the Sahel, the streets are nothing but sand.

We took a 20-minute boat ride to the Island from our campsite.   Little did we know that 5 minutes into the ride we would need to use the three previously prepared and neatly hidden buckets (plastic containers with their tops cut-off) to bale out the water that was already soaking our shoes.  Of course, this being Africa, one of the makeshift pails also had a hole, so we needed to stick a finger in the bottom as we worked to keep the boat afloat.

Although run down and shabby, St. Louis is a beautiful colonial town, with lots of colorful, but fading, grand buildings.  We walked from the northern to southern ends of the Island in less than 15 minutes and from east to west in under 5. 

We had our last formal dinner as a group back at the campsite, at the edge of a deserted stretch of the Atlantic, under darkness of night and a sky full of stars.   The heat has broken and its much cooler now – both day and night. 

The trip is winding down – only one more day to go.  

I’m not quite sure how I will remember it.  Physically demanding and exhausting or blissfully simple and free from the shackles of modern life?  Maddeningly slow and bureaucratic, or a quaint throw-back to uncomplicated times?  An enjoyable overland journey or a tedious road trip?  Whatever patina time will paint, the shades of excess and deprivation, human resiliency, and the fragility of life sandwiched between  the Sahara and the equator will surely be part of the palette.