Gambia > The Brikama Craft Market

The last day has already arrived. I hear an alarm clock going off in the room next to me. A little later, also in another room. The rooms are noisy. It’s still dark outside. The garden lights are off as well. There is no electricity. I look for my flashlight in my luggage. I had actually already packed it for the flight. The shower still doesn’t give any water. The small basin gives a little bit. With the trickle of water, I wash and shave by the light of the flashlight. At seven o’clock we gather for breakfast. Last night we collected a small amount for Kebba and ‘Uncle’. During breakfast, we thank them for the well-organized trip. Kebba thanks us in turn for our patience when something didn’t go exactly as planned. Meanwhile, the staff are busy setting up the breakfast buffet. They need quite some time for this. Only at half past seven can we start serving ourselves. The buffet is a typical English breakfast with egg, sausages, and fried potatoes. Fortunately, there are also pieces of baguette. For the last time, the luggage is loaded into the bus. This time on the back row of the bus, not on the roof. In two hours, we drive to the Brikama Craft Market. Along the way, Gambian life passes us by one last time. The craft market is located near the airport. Several sellers of statues, wood carvings, and masks are gathered here. Each seller tries to attract attention to their products. “Free to look,” is often heard in Dutch. I’m actually not looking for a statue or souvenir. I feel a bit awkward raising expectations with every seller. I cross the street and look at the livestock market on the other side. The recent rain has made the ground soggy and muddy. I decide not to walk further because I still have to get on the plane with the shoes I’m wearing.

Gambia - Sellers try to sell their statues at the Brikama Craft Market

After the market, we drive the final stretch to the airport. Five travel companions will stay another week in Gambia. At the airport, I say goodbye to them. I still have a lot of Gambian and Senegalese money left. Kebba shows me where I can exchange it back. Although the rate is very unfavorable, I’m glad I still get euros back. It amounts to more than a hundred euros altogether. Still, a commission of thirty euros doesn’t feel fair. At customs, I pay 1,000 dalasi—a kind of tax that must be paid upon arrival and departure. The next counter checks my passport. At check-in, the baggage conveyor belt doesn’t work. The checked bags cannot be forwarded. The desk clerk asks me to take my travel bag myself to security. There is a short discussion about how to handle the new situation. Because the bags are now coming from the other side, they decide to turn the entire scanning table, including the conveyor belt, around. About ten people are involved in this. I place my travel bag on the conveyor belt for scanning. Everything is OK. I continue to passport control. “Where did you stay in Gambia?” the officer asks. I tell him the first resort. I realize I gave a different hotel on the way there. TUI had given two options. I had guessed the wrong one. Would that be stored somewhere in the system? Apparently not. I get a stamp in my passport and the message that I should definitely come back to Gambia sometime. At baggage control, no one is ahead of me. Here, what I thought of Gambia seems more important than the control itself. After my passport is checked yet again, I enter the waiting area. The flight from the Netherlands is delayed by about an hour. I spend the coins in my wallet on coffee and a Snickers. At ten minutes to one, the TUIFly plane lands. Passengers for Gambia leave the plane. Then we are driven by bus to the plane. Because the plane makes a stopover in Cape Verde on the way to Amsterdam, there are already passengers on board. This means a seat number may already be taken. My seat is still free. It is a one hour and fifteen minute flight to the island of Sal in Cape Verde. Here, all passengers for Cape Verde get off the plane. Then the passengers for Amsterdam must also leave. The plane is cleaned and refueled. I receive a card marked “transit.” I must show this again when boarding. The disembarking and boarding also means the baggage is checked again. Do I now have to give up the bottle of water I bought in Gambia? At security, I’m allowed to keep it if I first take a sip. That’s convenient. Right after baggage control, I join the line to board. I walk back onto the plane and take my seat again. Next to me are two travelers who stayed in Cape Verde. They were actually supposed to fly back next Monday. Because the weather forecast for Cape Verde predicts rain all weekend, they changed their flight. During the flight, a meal is served: chicken with potatoes or curry with rice. I’ve had enough rice and choose the potatoes. Unfortunately, they are just out. I don’t want to wait and choose the curry. Around midnight, I land at Schiphol airport. At the baggage claim, I see my travel companions one last time. We say goodbye and each goes our separate way home.