Postcard blue skies, a light breeze ripples over my bare arms as I sit by the swimming pool, listening to the birds chatter the rustle of the palms and admiring the athletic poses of the lizards as they bathe in the sun. It is our last few hours in The Gambia before we return to the frozen sludge, which will mark London.
Christmas was extraordinary. Tony and Anne arrived after a marathon 22 hour journey, removing tights and woollen socks, tired, white faced. We were overjoyed, the flight tracking and uncertainty of conditions at Gatwick soon to be forgotten. I shed a tear for the millionth time these last few months. Their arrival heralded the beginning of our holiday and the final stage of our adventure.
Anne is going to write about their time here, but it needs to be said that to share our last few days here with them was very very special.
A volunteer said that if she could have magical powers it would be to take a photograph with a blink. I just wish to add audio. So many sights and sounds to commit to memory, sunset on the beach on Christmas Eve, gaggles of children swarming, welcoming white toothed smiles, grubby hands placed in ours, elegant women walking, bundles balanced, children strapped to backs, roasting sun, gritty sand, corrugated iron fences, dark round houses, coconut palms with bottles perched to catch the ‘jungle juice’, bird song…………the list goes on and on.
I think I have written this all before, but the adventure from our first hand gripping journey from the airport to this very moment, assaults the senses and fills me with awe and respect for the people who live here.
My two favourite sayings:
“It’s not easy, Hawa.”
“Nothing’s a problem in The Gambia.”
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