There
are ways you live your life that make it seem like you are leaving parts of
yourself hidden, not being the complete version of yourself- and certainly a
place like the internet isn’t the place to always reveal so much information-
however there are certain key elements of life or a person’s life without which
there isn’t much of a person. And I have certainly run this space like one of
those key institutions doesn’t exist, I shall hope to remedy that with this
post.
I
have had the privilege of sharing my life over the past three years with a remarkable
woman and friend who has made life a collection of consummate experiences and
who, outside of the location and dish will be the main focus of the consummate experience
this time. Her name is Jade.
Gambia,
is the location of this consummate experience and while the what, why, when and
how may intrigue you, suffice it to say that I carry Abj everywhere I go so it
all tallies. Gambia, the small country on the coast of West Africa is host to
about two million plus inhabitants, and is fast becoming the de facto
destination for holiday makers in the West Africa. The Gambia as it is officially
known is a stretch of country across the Atlantic and at any time British
vacationers or other members of the European contingent can be found lying
under the sun or walking the streets.
We
arrived at Banjul International Airport, after what seemed an eternity in
between Lagos and Freetown, Sierra Leone. During the flight we had slept and woke
several times, we had eavesdropped on other conversations and wondered why the
only male air steward was forever frowning- I have a theory for that but can’t
share it as it won’t be politically correct. I also defeated Jade, try as she
may at cards, which set the tone for the rest of the holiday. I rule.
Living
the life that I have lived so far, I have a special affinity for airports, especially
international airports, they are the first impression of a country, the first
handshake if you will and while Banjul Airport was a nice fist bump it wasn’t
the hearty slap on the back that the Nigerian Airport in comparison. I would
find that other things would also pale in comparison.
My
eager fiancée and chief travel agent was first off the bus and encouraging me
to take pictures of the airport to chronicle our sojourn, I am Johnny Depp cool
and casually glided past, because although I was dressed like a tourist I was
not about to affirm any one’s suspicions. Jade, knowing me began to take the
pictures herself; at the time of this entry she had yet to prove to me what we
would ever use those pictures for.
We
cleared immigration with ease and our airport pickup was waiting with our names
boldly written, good tidings. We got into the car and began to sip on our
complimentary water from the hotel, and we were in the Gambia. As we drove on
what looked to be a newly constructed highway I noticed the similarities with
Nigeria, Gamcell the major phone network provider had their ads all over the
place with claims of over 90 per cent of the market. Their President also had
his picture on almost every billboard and streetlight just in case, in the five
seconds it took you to move from one streetlight to another, you forgot who was
President.
There
were no traffic bottlenecks or logjams, expectedly given the population and no
one seemed to be in a rush anywhere, even the air, which was dusty and gloomy,
seemed to be happy to remain still. In a short time, we had moved into Brufut
Gardens the Presidential area, and supposedly their version of Maitaima,
Nigeria’s premium real-estate for the dead of conscience. The architecture was
appealing while at the same time simple, nothing grandiose, no attempts to
build a small republic and call it a house as my countrymen are so wont to do.
I
was beating myself up over not having studied the history of the Gambia when we
quickly arrived at the gates of the Sheraton Gambia Hotel, Resort and Spa and that’s
when I saw her, glistening in the sun, gently swaying in the wind, her wide
load evenly spread on the landscape – yeah break in transmission, if you don’t know
I am talking about the ocean by now something is wrong with you and you are a
pervert, I mean cmon! Jade was right next to me how would I be looking at
another woman in front of her, not that I would look if she weren’t there, but
you get my point- the Atlantic in all her glory. Jade was in charge of planning
the trip, and while she had sent me several mails concerning the trip, I had
glanced through them without detail. Being Johnny Depp cool, I rarely smile but
on this occasion there wasn’t enough space between my ears and my mouth.
Check-in
was processed, and Jade who is the stronger of us at bargaining dealt with the
administrative things and I like a curious child wandered to the windows to
behold the Atlantic, my saline lover. The Sheraton Gambia is built on a hill,
with the reception on the top floor and the rooms cascading the rest of the
hill in different places. It at once looks like an African village and an
Arabian Harem, stretching a significant portion of the beach. I liked it
because it made me focus on more than thing at a time, it was pleasant.
Our
room was on the beach, note not by the beach but on the beach, open the veranda
window and you were a few hundred feet from the gentle washing of Amphitrite.
Taking in God’s work and defying the laws of gravity with Arik works an
appetite; we had missed lunch and so decided to order from the A La Carte menu.
There was a fine selection but we settled on the Grilled Australian Beef Tenderloin (Well done), with roast potatoes,
mushroom a la Greek, whole corn and black pepper sauce. All the ingredients
come back to me easily, because it’s a dish to remember.
We
waited a while but it was worth the wait, the steak was a generous helping and
had been grilled just an inch of being burnt, it was tough but easy to cut and
bounced around the teeth with ease, it wasn’t so strong that it felt like chewing
gum and it wasn’t too soft that you swallowed it without tasting. The roasted
potatoes were golden and had been salted so they looked like they were folded
and wrapped into themselves; they met the fork with cooperation. The black
pepper and the mushroom added savoury to a dish that was already excellent on
its main helping- you can tell a chef has done his/her job when a dish confuses
you, when you are caught between two minds whether to finish the food on time
because your mouth is impatient or to be calm and enjoy it. Jade resolved that dilemma
rather quickly because by the time I looked up to ask her if she liked it,
there was nothing left to like.
We
ordered the meal the next day but it was disappointing and obviously not the
same chef. I asked.
Outside
of the food and the Sheraton, there is a bit to see in the Gambia; they have
developed their tourism industry to the point that you can pick a range of
activities to do while there. There is the Makasoko Forest Reserve with a bit
of widelife and floating villages , you can opt to go fishing for the day and
sunbathe on the roof of fishing boats, you could opt for a golfing session, or
a visit to the former slavery depot and learn about the origins of Kunta Kinte
among a range of activities. We chose none, between eating, sleeping, swimming,
beach walking and me trouncing Jade at cards and table tennis we were fully
occupied.
There
is a stretch of about half a kilometre that is known as the Senegambia Street,
which is the main tourist area, it supposedly is meant to have restaurants and
shops, casinos, clubs and restaurants. I think the Gambian expectation for a
high brow area greatly differs from the Nigerian expectation. The African
Crafts market may be a delight for our European brethren but as an African living
in Africa you most likely won’t encounter anything to astound you, although a
lot can be said about Jade negotiating skills, I had to walk out of stalls
before I found myself begging that her price slashing was too much.
Jade
managed to convince me to go for a massage at the Sheraton Spa, which was a
first for me. It was a mistake, in the end all they did was grease me, molest
and slap me with calloused hands. I may as well have been a turkey.
I
spent many early mornings sitting outside the room on the veranda watching the ocean; I watched it fall and rise over and over, just at the mouth though
like it had a thousand words and they could be any answer to any question you
asked. The Ocean; the Constant Conversation and it would keep speaking for many
more hundred years. I quickly snapped out of my thoughts when the real answer
to all my questions would wake from sleep, I’d realise then that there are
better things in this life than far away beaches and endless oceans. Actually,
there is just one. Jade.
The
Sheraton Gambia Hotel Resort & Spa is located at Brufut Heights,
Serrekunda; The Gambia. More information can be culled from www.sheraton.com/gambia and they are
reachable on + 220 441 0889 and +220 775 4402
Sidenote:
All intending couples or married couples should buy a table-tennis set, it
will do wonders, trust me.
