Day Six - Wednesday 21st January

Today was a full and happy day with Francis and his trip out, it lasted for 9 hours but at times I felt very ill and thought I would faint. At one point I nearly asked Francis to ring me a taxi to take me home to the compound - but I pulled myself together and determined not to be pathetic and spoil the day. So I gritted my teeth, didn't faint, drank some more water and got better as the day progressed.

When I returned home 9 hours later I was filthy, greasy, hot and happy.

Unfortunately for me there was a power cut so I had to find water in the garden, get it indoors, find candles in the pitch black (luckily Solomon came in and helped me,) and then stand in the bucket of cold water in the bathroom with no running water and wash as best I could by candlelight.

As I stood there, naked in the bucket, I suddenly saw myself from the outside and burst out laughing. 'What am I doing in the middle of Africa, standing in a bucket and washing by candlelight!' I said aloud to myself as I laughed - but I've rarely felt happier.

Last year I visited the Crocodile Pool, another sacred place - but frankly a tourist spot. However, I had a quite overwhelming personal experience at the pool, which is too private to talk about diary. I've been unable, this time, to revisit the pool and unbelievably, (because I have imagined going back so many times in England,) I do not mind.

My experience at the pool was unique and I do not wish to be disappointed if it is not repeated. I don't want to be upset by anything or pressurise myself in any way - Diana will understand if she is watching me. My life moves on. My skin is a mess with actual sunburns on my arms and legs. Too much sun when we were all together in Combo Beach Hotel. It will probably age me by another 10 years but what the Hell! I've no time now for real sunbathing; perhaps it is just as well.

Every Gambian I have met, men, women and children alike have been warm and welcoming. I've had no overt advances except from the odd 'bumster' but I've well got their number and even they never take offence or pressurise me. They are actually interesting to listen to once we've ascertained I'm no 60-year-old pushover! If I have any charm, which attracts this type of Gambian, I am well aware it is my purse and my white face! Most young Gambians want a sponsor so they can buy an education, or finish one that began and finished too soon. But I cannot help. Any money I have to give in the future will be via GTS and under their guidance on priorities.

Now I shall recall the wonderful day out with Francis.

It began with a trip in the back of a jeep with six GTS tourists to Sannamentering - a wonderfully peaceful Holy Site on the edge of a small cliff (unusual in Gambia - it is mostly flat land.) A small hut is where the Muslims pray - this hut is purported to be where the first Muslim in the Gambia lived. Sometimes Muslims spend the night alone in the hut there. They tell me a devil will come to you in the night in the form of a frog. Some people get frightened and run away - but if you can stay another devil, a good one, will come and help you with your problems and tell you which way your life is to go. 'It is strange for you to understand I know,' said my guide last year when I visited this site, 'but it is sacred to us and is not a well known tourist spot.' (I went only because I had seen it marked on a map and asked to go.) I felt too I was intruding in a private place and kept very low key and to the perimeter of the area. I hope tourists do not find it in large numbers. When I return to Gambia I shall spend time alone there, but away from the Holy Site so I am not intrusive. A mosque is now under construction near the 'holy place.'

We then climbed down the small cliff to the golden sands and Atlantic rollers - we walked along the sand for about 7 minutes and were welcomed with cold drinks at a small palm-covered juice bar. The water is welcome. I have kept up my water intake - it is so important out here. I have reduced my food intake - equally important for a stomach like mine.

Food stays with me for less than 20 minutes! One meal a day is all I can cope with in this heat and that must be small and light. But coping I am.

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We then returned to the jeep and set off for a short drive along the coast to a fishing village called Tangi. I have visited here before and was lucky enough then to visit when the fishing boats had returned to shore. I watched mesmerised as hundreds and hundreds of people lined the shores. One needs to see the scene on the shore to really fully appreciate the atmosphere, cultural differences, the hardship endured so stoically and the sheer enormity of the poverty that the vast majority of Gambians face. The women wade out to the laden fishing boats (for the fish in the sea is plentiful) with empty baskets on their heads. They will be loaded with fish by the men in the boats and for each basket she then staggers back to shore with she will be paid 4 fish. Her family can now eat or she can sell it on to peddlers who will put it in the basket of their old bicycle and bike out into the rural areas ringing their bicycle bells to say they have fish to sell. Other women sit on the shore in groups gutting the fish whilst still others run little stalls selling food. Some are cooking it to sell over open fires, others are cooking for their family to eat - fish herbs and rice make a cheap and nourishing meal. (An £8 bag of rice will keep a family fed for one month.) The stench is overpowering in places, the noise tremendous. I wandered away from the group and ended up sitting round an open fire cooking a pot of couscous and talking French (as best I could) to a Senegalese family. Senegal is the other side of the Gambian River and many Senegalese cross the river to work or scratch a living in Gambia.

The fishing village was left behind as we drove to our next pre-arranged visit. It was to the home of a farmer. He welcomed our small group onto his farm and explained many things about his life working his fairly large plot of land. In one section large palm leaves formed a low barrier to enclose cattle, 8 - 10 cows and a bull. There were two bulls but the older one pushed the younger challenger down the open well! Yes, literally.

Wells are very common in Gambia - it is hard work to draw every drop you need using buckets and pulleys - but thousands of people do just that.

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Many others go to the village standpipe to fill the bowls on their heads. Others, the really fortunate ones, have their own standpipe in the garden or, a few chosen ones have running water in their homes.

We learned the many uses of the palm tree and watched as the farmer, using the reed of a plant to form a tap and its leaves to form a spout, tap the palm tree for its oil. A demonstration of pounding the palm nut resulted in obtaining a yellow woody paste, which is used for flavouring food, making wine and flavoured drinks too. The bark of the palm is stripped and plaited into string and rope which is remarkably strong and oil and candles are yet another use of the palm - there was more explained but I had one of my 'fainting feelings' then and sat quietly on a log for a while, so I missed some of the explanations.

We also saw a demonstration of climbing a 30'ft. palm tree using just a piece of palm rope as a sort of sling. We could have tried ourselves if we wished - funny no one took up the challenge. We looked too at the farmer's crops, hard won from the dry earth and we learned of a type of vegetable which looks rather like our parsnip. It tastes quite different however and can be eaten raw or cooked. It is quite tasty actually and is called the Cassava and as the farmer informed us its takes away the pangs of hunger when necessary.

Finally the cola nut caught my attention. Apparently when an intended groom goes to speak to the father of his would-be bride he takes with him a cola nut - unfortunately I simply cannot remember quite why! These nuts were also placed in open holes in the ground - eight holes, four by four alongside each other. My enquiry revealed it was a game played by the children - who needs a snakes and ladder board!

We tasted palm wine and then left the farm and travelled to Brufut a compound recently donated by a European GTS member for GTS use for 5 years in return for up-keeping the building.

GTS is in the process of creating a cultural centre, a museum of ancient musical instruments, which include the kora, a 32-string 'banjo' type instrument made from large gourds and palm string. They make a wonderful sound, not at all like a harsh banjo, and are played just as much today. Along with the wonderful large African drums they are made of all natural materials - nothing is wasted in Gambia. I love the drums; I have had one lesson and shall have more when I return.

We then watched a demonstration of the Gambian tradition of tea making over a small open fire with a little kettle and small glasses. Two teas are drunk in the main, a china tea called 'attire' and another called 'wanjo.' I tasted both, loathed the former, loved the latter.

We then relaxed on the veranda of the museum and enjoyed a wonderful Gambian/English style buffet luncheon. Following lunch we observed a design by a GTS sponsor working with Francis of a solar panel hot plate. Most impressive and made of throw away items again - we watched as the hot plate grew hot enough to cook on and marvelled at the cheapness of 'manufacture' and its potential to aid the lives of many people who currently cook over open fires.

Demonstrations had wiped away the initial cynicism of the Gambians who had been fortunate enough to witness this new device the mad English want to introduce. We were then led by Francis into the grounds where we saw two men building a mud house as built many years ago. All the bricks and the mortar were of pure mud, and mud alone. They worked a circular hut of perfect proportions without measuring, without spirit levels and informed us the floor would be cow dung, which would deter the termites and dry to a hard shiny surface, which could be swept!

A semi-circle of these huts has been commissioned by Francis - each hut will house a Gambian displaying local crafts and music for the interest of GTS members on these trips out - thus again providing information, support to tourists and providing employment and income for Gambians.

Here one day we shall be able to learn the crafts of batik, woodcarving, drumming, and kora playing or making of the instruments, palm wine making and palm tapping, rope making, African dancing and so much more. What a wonderfully interesting place it will be when completed - along with the completed museum and the availability of Gambian food and drink.

The rainy season here is during May to September I think - the volume of water has greatly decreased I was told over the last 30 years and drought conditions are greatly feared - God knows life is hard enough as it is in Gambia, I dread to think of the results of a full scale drought as has happened in so many parts of Africa. Francis told me about someone who queried the Gambian's fears saying, 'but I was here in the rainy season and it rained cats and dogs!' 'Ah, yes,' the Gambian replied 'but a few years before that it used to rain cows and horses!'

We then watched a wonderful display of African ladies dancing. One with a baby on her back of just a few months old suddenly could not restrain herself any longer and joined the frenzied dancing - we all leaned forward to save the child which bounced like a ball caught in a bingo machine! Life is going to be tough on that child - it survived and will probably learn to enjoy it! The ladies dresses were wonderful, their dancing erotic at times, unfathomable at others, humorous and energetic too. They laughed and we laughed, photos were taken at the end of the dancing and the drummer with his dreadlocks proudly advised us he makes drums and koras to export to England - GTS help him to achieve this.

We were then served drinks and a wonderful selection of Gambian cakes and biscuits. They had been cooked just prior to our arrival - the original arrangement made by Francis of GTS was that they be made when we arrived so we could watch the process involved. But its Gambia, they forgot I presume and it did not matter one little bit.

We bade a fond farewell to our newly made Gambian friends and sped home in the jeep and other car. The end of a 9 hour day of great interest, good company plus gaining an increased understanding of the real Gambian way of life now and in the past.

I was so pleased that this, the first GTS organised trip to Brufut was such a success and I was happy to share the experience with other GTS members - several of whom lived in Gambia for several months of the year - how I envy them!

To say I slept soundly that night is an understatement.

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