Kombos Beach Hotel

Life here is certainly different. Were you not to venture outside the hotel grounds you might be anywhere in the world such is the anonymity and blandness of the hotel. Generic African woodcarvings and such other “African” bric a brac are the only reminders of what continent you are on. It is a very odd thing to be holidaying in a country you have lived in and, despite trying not to, it’s impossible not to view the tourists and wonder why they came to the Gambia. Moving from pool to TV lounge passing the British and German newsstand on the way many of them don’t seem to venture much into the world outside. 12 months ago I was them – not now. And such a pity because true they would get some low level hassle from vendors eager to make a living but a 10 minute walk away and you will be in the real Gambia that we have to come to love, the part where people ask “How is your morning?” because they care. Where you can eat for a quid or two, relax and soak up being somewhere different.



The hotel is fine – just that, fine. A formula hotel that adds to the “might be anywhere” feeling. 4 3 storey blocks of nice rooms, a restaurant, a bar, on the beach front set in beautiful grounds. They are doing us the room and breakfast for 30 pounds a night = a 50 percent reduction on pleading poverty. The guests, ah the guests. Mostly British or German and mostly overweight, I fear the Gambians must have a very jaundiced view of Europeans whose consumption appears slightly grotesque in such a poor country. There is however one really interesting character, a man straight from a Graham Greene novel. He can be found nightly at the bar dressed in a linen suit that has seen better days but still retains a certain touch of quality about it. He sips whisky and ice thoughtfully, often glancing at his watch as if he is expecting someone to arrive or something to happen. He punctuates this with wanders to the open areas to smoke Dunhill International which he does whilst gazing around before returning to his bar stool and watch gazing. He is slight, 50ish and has a tanned, weathered face that suggests he probably lives here now – I wonder what, or who, he is waiting for?


The change in diet has been welcomed and, along with a hot shower, food is definitely the thing we appreciate the most. Being able to eat salads, steaks, ice cream, of it is such a treat. It’s a shame really that before long they will all just seem normal again. The weather is glorious, the view over the Atlantic is wonderful and the noise of the sea is, always is evocative. Re-reading Treasure Island the setting is just perfect. How lovely to be able to read books in appropriate settings – what would your book and place be?