On my return from wonders of Senegal’s Petite CĂ´te I had a spare afternoon on my hands in vibrant Yoff, one of Dakar’s upcoming suburbs. I went straight from sept-place taxi that took me from Joal&Fadiouth to check-in into cheapish but correct and clean hotel of Via Via and straight back out to the streets.
Those were my last hours in Senegal and I was adamant to make the most of them. Besides I have developed erroneous feeling that I might not have used the time I had on my hands in Senegal to its full potential so I was all the more eager to profit from my last minutes in Yoff.
I set off wandering down the streets in a vague direction of the beach without really having any destination. Passing by mosque Layene I’ve found myself in a neighborhood that could only be described as an upmarket residential area. It was quite strange stumbling on completely different estate especially since you don’t see it coming until you are right in the middle of it. But as sudden as I’ve found myself in there, I was out of it and right in front of the beach full of youngsters and locals.
This beach had also doubled – as I’ve come to discover – as a local gym. People working out, running and above all picking the best spot for the makeshift game of footy. Of course it did not take long for me to get noticed. After all I was the only toubab in sight. But that did have a positive spin as all of a sudden everybody was posing for me. From the goalie taking time in the middle of his teams attack to kids impressing me with their ninja skills.
Finally moving away from the sports centre of Dakar I’ve strolled straight into another centre on the beach. More traditional one. Across from ĂŽle de Yoff the fishermen were putting their catch on display. Sold to locals but even more impressively majority of the catch gets sold straight to the big buyers who take most of the catch from this local fish market. A line of special fridges come trucks right there down on the sand testify to this…
As the sun was slowly setting behind the horizon over the beautiful Atlantic ocean I was enjoying my last bottle of La Gazelle on a plastic stool on the beach at Yoff virage chatting away with local sellers while a lone surfer was still catching the waves.
Next morning my Senegalese story was coming to a premature end as I was getting back to Bamako, Mali where I would stay only a few more days before my 4 months wandering around west Africa was to come to an end.
