The Week Part One: A Trip to Basse

Having joined the committee early on I started last week with a "reece" (as Hadders would say) to see the venues planned for a summer youth camp. The plan is to host it in Basse, which is almost as far inland as The Gambia reaches. It is around five hour's drive away and the lack of coastal breeze meant that most people warned "oh Basse? That place is too hot". Still, I was very excited. I'd also be travelling with people from various other parts of the Ministry of Youth and Sports and other partners so it was a good chance to build some professional relationships up.

We left the Kombos in the early evening and headed out of town. At a quick stop in Brikama I watched as hundreds of enormous bats flocked overhead, silhouetted against the deep blue sky. I was completely spellbound.

Our official "services" stop was in Soma. It's a busy hub town with glittering neon lights that lend an atmosphere of a fair at night in the UK. We found food and a toilet break (the less said about that the better, behind a house in the dark with passers by). It was late so, while my colleagues bought various types of Afra (barbecued chunks of meat) I took sweet milky coffee, made mixing Nescafé, hot water, evaporated milk and sugar. Still it was exactly what I needed, and I was very grateful to my colleague who helped me sort it out.

The road to Basse is straight and well tarmaced apart from a small stretch which is still under construction. The warm night wind blew in my face from the open window and I strained to peer into the dark starlit night, loving every minute. The moon rose later and shone a milky tea glow over the ground, bleaching out the stars in the vicinity. At 1.30 I fell into bed in Basse, shortly after making it up with my duvet cover serving as a sheet sleeping bag.

Unfortunately an unreasonably loud mosquito kept me awake and I realised I'd forgotten soap under my morning shower. Added to doxy-nausea the morning was very ropey. Still, true to my training I got up and went to see where the children can play and looked around the hostel. We also visited regional officials to update them on our plans and discuss how to work together.

There was however time to knock a few ripening mangos off the trees. The first mango I picked in Gambia tasted like sherbert, sweet and sour and dry all wrapped up in one. It was lovely, though might be better when the fruits are really ripe.

Travelling home my colleagues wondered at my obsession with photographing every new road side scene. Round mud huts are new to me, as are monkeys sat calmly chattering in trees. A friend of mine had described the problems such huts can have in the rainy season as the collapse and families seek shelter in other buildings so I was also interested to gain a little more information on the problems faced.

Still the countryside is truly beautiful. As it turned out not beautiful enough for me to stay awake and I nodded off for a fair stretch of the trip. Probably a good job as I was hoping to attend the choir fundraising dance that evening...