Continuing my Senegalese trip along the Petite Côte I was heading for a twin village of Joal & Fadiouth. Picked to be my final destination on the Senegalese coast before making my way back to Dakar and catching a return flight towards Bamako. Hesitating between Joal & Fadiouth or Siné-Saloum Delta I had to make a pick which was facilitated mostly by the pictures on the internet and the simple fact of Siné-Saloum Delta being further away. With time running trough my fingers like a sand it was an easy pick.
Arriving at the bus station I made a mistake. Not one that would cost me dearly but still a mistake. I didn’t check but simply assumed that it should not be too far from the bus station towards the hotel so I’ve grabbed my backpack, turned down a few propositions from taxi drivers and set on walking towards my chosen hotel under the already hot sun. As I was walking besides the street looking at the deserted ocean beaches and with sand sipping trough my fingers I started thinking that I might be walking for some time now and surely the hotel should be in view by now. Walking some more I’ve decided to clarify this little doubt of mine by consulting the people who should surely know. The locals. Yap, they knew alright. And I was on the right track. Just my old map was not that precise and despite walking for some 15 – 20 minutes I still had the better part of the road in front of me.
Opting for the easy choice I flagged down the first taxi that came by. After my belongings were deposed in what was described as a more interesting of a few accommodation options I set out in search of a drink. Joal being a really long village scattered along the road provides me with a challenge. No proper bars in sight. But I don’t give up and find a place resembling one. Somewhere between a residence and a bar. But they manage to serve me a cold drink. Which in my book constitute a proper service. And to top it off I was in a company of some people who would influence my stay in the village.
In the makeshift bar there was only one big table. And about 5 people already at it. Having lunch. And me joining them. After a while we start talking and two of them turn not to be regular Africans I was running into all the time but much more interesting. One was deputy major of this twin village that instantly hooked me up with a taxi-driver-guide-wanna-be that would later take me to a famous grand baobab tree that is supposed to be the biggest in whole of Senegal. The other was much more interesting to me. Turns out I’m sitting at the table with a high-school professor that really want to know what I’m doing in these parts of the globe. He does not let me get away with the usual set of answers but keeps drilling and asking and looking for reasons behind it. Nice to finally stumble upon somebody that actually wants to know…
After a drive to the most famous Senegalese grand baobab tree I was finally left alone at the beautiful wooden bridge spanning over a lagoon and connecting villages of Joal and Fadiouth. Wandering around Fadiouth feels great. The village is pedestrian only and is full of clam shells. It’s got a nice laid back feeling to it provided you manage to pass the short sell-anything-at-discount-prices alley. Once past that alley you run into proper Fadiouth with friendly locals and people hanging about everywhere, elders enjoying their daily afternoon chats on the benches.
Joint Muslim and Christian cemetery is another proud attraction of the village. Situated on yet another little clam shell island it oversees the lagoon. And sadly right at the time of my visit there was a service for a young local man who had just passed away. Understandably everyone – from youngsters to elders – was quite grim and as much as I didn’t want to intrude their mourning, being the only toubab in vicinity I was constantly observed.
On my way back to my guest house I had to pass the sellers alley where I’ve run into a fine and friendly seller that for once didn’t try to sell me things but wanted me to take a picture of his little store. In exchange he gave me a nice collar as a souvenir that I’ve decided it was my lucky charm and wore it with pride.
Back in Joal – right in front of a huge painted wall – was he waiting for me. We didn’t know each other yet but that didn’t deter him to stop me. Paco Matersen, a local painter and artist was enjoying late afternoon and fancied a chat when I’ve passed by. He had shown me all of his work that he keeps inside a small shaq on an estate that he had inherited. We’ve had a nice chat about life, the universe and everything before we parted our ways. With a promise I still need to keep. Send him his pictures. Which I will do, first thing tomorrow…
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