Africa Through the Bottom of a Glass #9

There are five traffic lights in The Gambia (don’t forget the “The”). There are three times that number in my suburb. Admittedly The Gambia is not a very big country with less than 2 million people but there are less than 2 million people in the Greater Brisbane area, just to put this into some barely relatable context.

It’s not very big geographically either. The capital, Banjul, where we have just been, is very small – it has a population of less than 40,000. It’s definitely the capital because our guide helpfully pointed out the National Assembly building and the US Embassy is there. The reason our ship was able to park in Banjul is because it’s on the Gambia River. In fact the country is the Gambia River with a line drawn around it to include the north bank and the south bank. It’s almost like Senegal decided there were too many crocodiles in the river so they wanted to make it someone else’s problem. Consequently The Gambia is surrounded on three sides by Senegal and on one side by the Atlantic Ocean. It’s just another of those sovereign quirks like bits of Spain in North Africa and a piece of Russia surrounded by Lithuania and Poland.

Speaking of crocodiles there’s a crocodile farm in The Gambia which has been in the same family for over five centuries. Obviously the market for crocodile farms is somewhat restricted and certainly the number of potential buyers would appear to be thin on the ground, unlike the hundred or so crocodiles which lie about doing nothing, like so many council workers. And you would normally associate a petting zoo with cuddly and cute animals like bunny rabbits and puppies. That would be in the snowflake west. In The Gambia you pet crocodiles. And they don’t even want to lick you back. Call me suspicious but the one being subjected to constant stroking had blood on its face coming from fresh tooth holes after a recent crocodile spat but it didn’t eat anyone while we were there. Their rather non-crocodile-like behavior has something to do with feeding them fish rather than meat so they don’t have blood lust like the Australia Zoo crocs – wimps.

The Gambia is so small that there wasn’t enough room for all of the ship’s shore excursions so one had to go to Senegal. Everyone had to be back onboard by about 6.30pm so we could leave at 8.00pm. 8.00pm came and went and we were still about 100 passengers light. Could it be that Senegal was holding them hostage? Or were they victims of mañana. They had to return on a ferry and I don’t think the ferryman was maintaining a stopwatch accurate timetable. A bevvy of officers were nervously pacing on the dock like fathers waiting for their teenage daughters, no doubt considering the implications for their careers of losing significantly more than a handful of passengers.

Even worse they were all missing out on White Night which is the cruise’s big party night. Everyone dresses in white, gets pissed and makes fools of themselves. Maybe a grubby ferry on the Gambia River would have been a preferred option for some – who knows. It’s an opportunity for all of the various entertainers to get together and sing and dance for a couple of hours. And they do it with maximum aplomb and enthusiasm while we apply similar fervour to drinking. Two days at sea before Gran Canaria should be enough to shake the hangover.