After a standard cramped 'neuf-place' to the border we were made to get all of our bags off the roof and unpack them for two lazy border guards trying to make a quick buck. But we had a lot of time and refused to pay a bribe (even when heavily suggested by the driver of the minibus). Dree started to unpack his worn underwear, and when the guards saw that we WERE going to unpack everything they soon gave up and waved us on. The bus got even more cramped as the driver allowed eight kids on board who were walking down the track, most on the roof but somehow four crammed in the van or hung on the outside. Damn greedy drivers!
Then we got off at the border town and were warned by the sept-place cartel to not take a minibus as it pulled up because it would not make it to Tambacounda- our crossroad destination in the centre of Senegal. The minibus was cheaper and leaving now, so we left along with it! On the way Dree was asleep in the front seat next to Barney. Me and B watched in amazement as a cow slowly wandered out into the road, and the driver didn't slow at all. The cow was struck about 50 mph on the hip and did a 'Bambi-on-ice' skid along the other side of the road into the ditch. It jumped up, pretty shocked and wandered off. Dree was less than impressed that he was woken up - he'd preferred to have been woken just before rather than after the incident!
Changing minibuses in a small town (never a good sign), we made sure our tickets were valid and that this new minibus would take us all the way to Tamba. Also had the nicest bissap in a bag (sweet purple juice from flowers of the hibiscus plant) during our hour wait - even though we were told the bus would be "leaving now". Pretty standard travel issue.
Half an hour out of the town we obviously broke down. The rear right tyre was flat - essentially blown out with a rip on the inner side - so they spent half an hour trying to change the tyre. Once the new one was put on we gave the van a push start (they rarely have started motors) and watched as the spare tyre deflated. The driver tried to get us all on regardless but we pointed out that the tyre was no good. So they started to change them BACK to the originally faulty tyre. Meanwhile we got comfortable by the side of the road to wait for a passing van or sept place to Tamba, which was over 100 km away. Not walkable, even for us!
Eventually a sept place pulled up and we bartered for a fare. Dree took the reigns in French, although I can feel myself understanding more and being able to speak much better each day I'm in a Francophone country. The long and short of it was that the b*****d in our broken van wouldn't give us a full refund. There were two parts to the ticket in the previous town, one of which he collected. Now he was saying that we only get back half of the fare! Quite a bit of arguing later (we just wanted him to show us the other ticket!), and a fight broke out between this cheeky so-and-so and a man from our proposed sept-place. We quickly decided it wasn't worth the hassle and high-tailed it back to the sept-place. Where we got overcharged by 1,000 CFA. Superb.
What a bloody long day: five or so different vehicles and some very tired travellers. Well, at least we were on our way to Tamba as dusk fell, even though our new driver resembled Uncle Phil from 'The Fresh Prince' and seemed to shout ALL THE TIME to his passengers (just in conversation). Think I went a bit deaf in my right ear. Onto Tamba - our last stop in Senegal before leaving for Mali; country number four.
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