First chance in a week to have a lie in so it was 10.00 am before I woke in my mosquito netted bed in my deluxe chalet. Walked to the upper terrace above the bar and found all the other guys having breakfast of omelette, bread and cold beer! I unloaded my bike and spread out all of my gear from my panniers, being the first chance I had to properly unpack and sort out all my luggage. A boat taxi was arranged for 1.00 pm and this is the perfect way to enter St. Louis. Our first priority was to find a bank to get some local currency, the CFA. I was able to find a cash machine from memory down a side street but it was temporarily out of service. Another was located around the corner and then we were all set up with sufficient beer money to enjoy a late lunch in this lovely old town. The internet cafe that I had used years ago was now closed down but through an open window I could see the rows of old PCs encrusted with cobwebs. Luckily there was another internet cafe just around another block so I was able to post messages and update this blog. The others had taken an early taxi back to the Zebrabar but I stayed around a bit later and went for a walk all around town just before dusk. African towns seem to suddenly come alive at dusk with thousands of people appearing on the streets from nowhere. I walked over the magnificent iron bridge that linked the two parts of the town and saw just how rusty and corroded it was in places. It is for this reason that they have began work on a replacement new bridge running parallel to the old one. Once over the bridge it was starting to get drak so I flagged down a taxi and agreed a price to take me back to Zebrabar. Compared to most of the taxi, this one looked in relative good condition, some of the panels were not too bashed in and the windscreen only had one large crack down the centre. If the taxi in Mauri had looked like rejects from a banger race, then these in Senegal looked like the sort of cars used by clowns ina circus. Doors, bonnets and boots would just randomly spring open at any time if they turned a corner or went over a bump. My 15km taxi ride was an experience that I shall never forget. I think I had more near death experiences during that ride than I've had in the last 20 years. At one point we were on a narrow road at speed set on a collision course with a large lorry coming straight towards us. The taxi driver appeared to be playing "chicken" with the lorry driver with neither of them moving to one side. I counted down the seconds to impact then finally closed my eyes, said my final prayers and prepared to die. Suddenly, the driver swerved violently to the right off the road, bounced along the dirt and then rejoined the road a few hundred yards later. I opened my eyes and looked at him and he was totally calm as if nothing had happened whereas I was still shaking. On arrival at Zebrabar, I instantly grabbed a cold beer and joined the others for an excellent evening meal.
We rounded off a fantastic day by sitting drinking on the terrace listening to Roger play music from his phone. The choice of music for a bunch of hard core adventure motorcyclists? Abba's greatest hits!
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