Africa.
Dazzlingly exotic colours, gigantic sandy deserts and poverty stricken villages
spring to the minds of the ignorant and wise alike. It is the way you perceive these
factors that determines what you take from dipping your toe in this rich ocean
of culture.
Admittedly when given the choice to go to The Gambia or Cornwall with the university the ignorance and slight neuroticism screamed out within “Surely it’s just like the zoo. Why go to Gambia? It costs a fair whack. It’s a huge flight. What if something happens? What if we crash? What about the dangerous animals!? I hate jabs!!!”. Thankfully common sense dictated; I had savings from work, it’s just a flight and it’s the chance of a lifetime. Having never been a fan of Africa, visiting the continent was not exactly at the forefront of possible future trips; therefore it just made sense to try it when the chance was right there to be taken.
Contrary to the neurotic notions, the plane journey was enjoyable and although all exits were duly noted, none of the heroic parachuting back to earth I envisioned in the nights leading up to take off were put into practice. Ignorance was partially shattered simply by stepping out of the plane at Banjul airport. The wall of hot air piling its great weight upon our previously air conditioned shoulders was unlike anything experienced before. It was a wonder that the birds around the airport had the energy to fly at all. Pied crows, Red eyed doves and hooded vultures resided near or circled around the airport. Each species was fascinating; common as muck, but every single species was a “lifer” and seemed as rare as the last. Due to army check points at fairly regular intervals en route to the Baobab hotel filming and photography was limited. However, the number of new species was ever increasing and the wheels of the kid in the candy shop style fantasy had been set in motion.
Admittedly when given the choice to go to The Gambia or Cornwall with the university the ignorance and slight neuroticism screamed out within “Surely it’s just like the zoo. Why go to Gambia? It costs a fair whack. It’s a huge flight. What if something happens? What if we crash? What about the dangerous animals!? I hate jabs!!!”. Thankfully common sense dictated; I had savings from work, it’s just a flight and it’s the chance of a lifetime. Having never been a fan of Africa, visiting the continent was not exactly at the forefront of possible future trips; therefore it just made sense to try it when the chance was right there to be taken.
Contrary to the neurotic notions, the plane journey was enjoyable and although all exits were duly noted, none of the heroic parachuting back to earth I envisioned in the nights leading up to take off were put into practice. Ignorance was partially shattered simply by stepping out of the plane at Banjul airport. The wall of hot air piling its great weight upon our previously air conditioned shoulders was unlike anything experienced before. It was a wonder that the birds around the airport had the energy to fly at all. Pied crows, Red eyed doves and hooded vultures resided near or circled around the airport. Each species was fascinating; common as muck, but every single species was a “lifer” and seemed as rare as the last. Due to army check points at fairly regular intervals en route to the Baobab hotel filming and photography was limited. However, the number of new species was ever increasing and the wheels of the kid in the candy shop style fantasy had been set in motion.
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| Photo By Lizzie Bedford |
The Baobab itself was a fairly quaint hotel, a reasonable hideaway from the majority of the nippy little beggars I was forced to medicate for and a veritable wildlife crossroads. Green Vervet Monkeys, Agama lizards and copious butterfly and bird species stopped by frequently. The Green Vervet Monkeys in particular appeared to take delight in terrorising the majority of the other students over the 2 week trip, rousing them at unearthly hours by jumping on the tin roofs of the hotel.
The
first few days were spent acclimatising to the heat and culture. As culture
shocks go, this was a big one and it reverberated to the core. Half the streets
between the airport and the hotel were unfinished building projects (a tax
dodge so I am led to believe) and a mixture of constant attempts to part us foreigners
(locally known as “Tubabs”) with money and people dropping like flies through
illness all threatened to wreck the first few days. However, not even these
things could take away from the wildlife spectacle that lay before us. A local
called Mamadou was to be our guide and birder extraordinaire. His birding
knowledge is surpassed by few and his Dr. Doolittle-esque bird calling ability worked
a treat for calling many species closer. He could mimic species such as the
Pearl spotted owlet in a way that a Lyrebird would struggle to match.
Over
the first couple of days several trips were made to Bijilo Forest which was
just a couple of hundred metres from the hotel. This is one of the few wildlife
parks within this area of the Gambia and predictably it is diminishing slowly
in size due to the value of land and construction in the country. Nonetheless
it was a beautiful piece of forest crammed full of the dazzling exotic colours
aforementioned. It laid home to common species such as the Red Billed Hornbill
and Green Vervet monkeys, the slightly less common Little Bee Eaters (which
will be in a later post about the Gambia) and the endangered Red Colobus Monkeys.
Thankfully it was not rainy season so most of the dangerous snakes were up in
the canopies or comfortably curled up under piles of leaves. This however did
not stop a simple Sand Snake, that appeared hurl itself at the speed of light away
from a path, rendering me pathetic for a solid 20 minutes.
For
some reason a combination of illness and lack of a speedy acclimatisation
seriously inhibited the happy snapper within, causing a limited amount of
picture taking in the first few days. The key species targeted on the list of “must
sees” were the eight species of Kingfishers. On the first day we saw the Blue
Breasted Kingfisher but frustratingly in this instance “we” was about 40 or so
people traipsing through the woodland of Bijilo forest. After politely bustling
my way from near the back of a nonchalant queue I got a good look at the beauty
perched among a heavily wooded section of forest. Unfortunately there is no
blog worthy output from this encounter but it could be ticked off the list
nonetheless. The second of the Kingfishers I spotted at the Abuko wildlife park
a couple of days later. The Giant Kingfisher (which really lives up to its
name) perched majestically on a branch next to a watering hole. This was
accompanied by a sighting of a Malachite Kingfisher which gave a grand total of
3/8 Kingfishers after 3 days. Brilliant start! Abuko provided some new
experiences on top of this: Monitor Lizards (both live and impaled on trees), a
Nile Crocodile and Fruit Bats that looked far too large and cumbersome to dart
with the supreme agility and grace they exhibited around the treetops.
The
following day, I was excruciatingly close to acclimatising to the heats of the
sea side resort close to Serrekunda and my ignorance once again proved my
downfall. A trip inland to Tendaba camp had been organised and noted on the pre-organised
work schedule that I had decided not to read. Temperatures at this new location
were set to be around 5 or 6 degrees higher than the 35 degrees we were
enjoying near Banjul.
Whilst contemplating this over the usual breakfast of hot dog sausages, scrambled egg and baked beans I looked across the road at the hooded vultures organised in a neat little row when a glimmer of blue caught my eye. Alas this was not the kingfisher that my record list was desperately calling for but something even rarer. It is not often that an Ipswich Town Football Club 2001/2003 home shirt is seen anywhere in England let alone the Gambia but there it was being modelled by a young child. This somewhat surreal experience of seeing a shirt similar to that you used to own, a few thousand kilometres from home, effectively changed the slightly subdued mood of the first couple of days in one foul swoop. Although the issues were not completely gone, they were going and soon we were leaving for Tendaba Camp in our unusual transport, accompanied by the smouldering sunlight that beats down in the heart of Africa...
Whilst contemplating this over the usual breakfast of hot dog sausages, scrambled egg and baked beans I looked across the road at the hooded vultures organised in a neat little row when a glimmer of blue caught my eye. Alas this was not the kingfisher that my record list was desperately calling for but something even rarer. It is not often that an Ipswich Town Football Club 2001/2003 home shirt is seen anywhere in England let alone the Gambia but there it was being modelled by a young child. This somewhat surreal experience of seeing a shirt similar to that you used to own, a few thousand kilometres from home, effectively changed the slightly subdued mood of the first couple of days in one foul swoop. Although the issues were not completely gone, they were going and soon we were leaving for Tendaba Camp in our unusual transport, accompanied by the smouldering sunlight that beats down in the heart of Africa...
...The dusty road ahead awaits...
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