Arriving in Banjul felt surreal, like we’d been dropped into an entirely different world—which, in essence, we had: the heart of Senegambia, a region as historically entangled as it is culturally distinct. We could have easily spent several days on the beautiful beaches of Banjul, like many of fellow British guests at our hotel seemed to be there for. But we had an adventure in store – from Istanbul to West Africa, now the meat of our 21 day West Africa road trip had begun. This was the first 10 day leg through The Gambia and Senegal, with some surprise countries in between, and all the trials and tribulations that being on the road brings.
Day 1: 12 Feb 2025 – Arrival in Banjul, The Gambia: A Senegambia welcome
The journey to The Gambia began in the hazy darkness of a 1 AM departure with Turkish Air, our excitement tempered by a comically unsettling check-in experience—our agent seemed baffled by the existence of Banjul, repeatedly confirming that yes, we indeed wanted to go there. Nevertheless, our nerves were calmed by the decadent Turkish Air business lounge, complete with a golf and flight simulator—nothing says luxury quite like virtual tee-offs at midnight.
The comfort continued on the flight itself. Though the plane had certainly seen better days, the presence of lie-flat seats made for a surprisingly restful journey. We enjoyed the dinner and dessert (see gnocchi above). While not quite as lavish on our first Turkish Airlines flight, it nonetheless hit the spot. Most of the flight we spent asleep since it was a red eye after all, and skipped the breakfast service. We weren’t very well rested but did get a few hours of sleep.
Upon landing, our entrance into The Gambia began with the universal travelers’ rite of passage: inexplicable fees! First, an ambiguous $20 “just because,” followed immediately by a $120 visa fee, cash only—adding insult to inconvenience. We were told to bring cash and we were glad we had, even though we had only been prepared for the main visa fee.
Our TransAfrica driver, Mamina, was waiting for us with a sign in the arrivals area, and whisked us onward. There was some confusion as a herd of local boys grabbed our suitcases to help us to our car. We had assumed they were with our driver but they were not and wanted a tip for their service. We declined since we didn’t ask for their help. Mamina didn’t speak much English (French, Diola, and other regional tribal languages) so he wasn’t very helpful here, but we enjoyed his company throughout the Senegambia portion of the trip as he was a kind soul who liked animals and indulged our divergences from the itinerary.
Fortunately, our frustration faded fast as we arrived at Coco Ocean Resort, nestled elegantly along the coast. After check in, and clarification from the front desk that our guide would be meeting us later, and the realization that the driver was not our guide, we promptly crashed into bed into the upgraded villa we had been provided (overkill since we would only be there 1 night!).
After a nap, we touched base via What’s App (the best means of communication in the region) with our guide Lamin, and decided it was best at that point to delay our tour until the afternoon and beat the heat. So, instead we indulged in leisurely exploring the resort grounds. Cats and monkeys frolicked around the property, and we sipped coco-banana smoothies on the beach, feeling the stress of transit melting away in the African sun. We were served by a young man nicknamed “Smiley”, and he regaled us that smiles is one of things Gambians are known for.
In the late afternoon, we finally met Lamin, our guide, whose name, amusingly enough, is given to most first‑borns in The Gambia. Our first stop was an ethnographic museum in Banjul, coinciding with the arrival of an enthusiastic school group. At times, it felt like we had become the exhibit. Still, amidst the attention, we absorbed some fascinating, if dark, local folklore—tales of spirits and rituals hinting at the vivid traditions we’d soon encounter firsthand. At the moment it was more interesting observing the school group that reading all the information in the museum, but we did learn more about the animist religions, traditions, and folklore in the Senegambia region.
Our stroll through the city and its market was a sensory overload: vibrant textiles, pungent spices, and that unmistakably pungent aroma common to markets worldwide. Without local currency, our shopping ambitions were thwarted, yet there also wasn’t much to buy as a tourist since this was more of a working market for locals. We met a group of young boys who greeted us in masks, danced for us, and earned a tip. We tried a new fruit, the monkey fruit – kind of like an orange and apricot, but ours was on the tart side. A stroll to the beach near the market showed us first hand the pollution & trash situation on the non-resort coastline, and also allowed us a glimpse of a Turkish shipping vessel coming into port. After the Albert market, we drove around town to see some of the sites, including a sports complex, and an arch called Arch 22, built in 1996 to in honor of the 1994 authoritarian coup in which Yahya Jammeh overthrew the democratically elected Gambian government of President Dawda Jawara.[1]
After being hassled by the local police around a parking spot Mamina found, dinner at the Senegambia Magic Bar and Restaurant introduced us to the local staple: meat and rice, with spice. We each bravely got a variation of this. I also sampled Cristal, a Gambian lager that was basically Budweiser in disguise, and treated Lamin to one. Since dinner was on our own this first night and not included with the TransAfrica bundle, Lamin loaned us some local currency to pay with until we could get some USD changed in Senegal the next day. It didn’t make sense to get Gambian currency for only 1 day in the country, and we appreciated him floating us.
We messaged Lamin on What’s App when we were done, and he met us to find our driver, Mamina, and returned back to the hotel.
Getting in to the local rhythm a little, we started to enjoy just being on the road and the sights and sounds.
Day 2: 13 Feb 2025 – Gambian Birds and Sacred Masks: From Banjul to Ziguinchor (Gambia → Senegal: Senegambia)
After breakfast at Coco Ocean, we departed Banjul, heading 160 km south toward Senegal’s Casamance region located within the broader Senegambia—a journey anticipated to take around four hours. Along the way, we met our exceptional ornithological guide, Aladdin—yes, really—whose passion for birds and knowledge of the local flora and fauna illuminated the path ahead.
Aladdin grew up in the very Senegambia village where we spent our morning birdwatching. He guided us through familiar plots of farmland, his steps sure and his stories deeply personal. His mother still worked a small garden on the land, and he effortlessly identified every plant—pointing out loofah vines curling in the sun and the towering silk cotton tree, which releases gentle bursts of cotton-like fluff into the breeze when in bloom.
Our bird tally was impressive: broad-billed roller, hamerkop, black egret shading fish with wing-tip form, Senegal thick-knee skulking in the dust, the graceful African jacana walking on lily pads, and hooded vultures circling overhead. And when a painted snipe finally appeared, Aladdin erupted in jubilant surprise—jumping, clapping, beaming like he’d spotted a unicorn. Pure magic.
During a quiet moment walking past farming women, Aladdin quietly shared that his second wife had died in the past year. The grief was soft-spoken. Later, Lamin explained that men in The Gambia and Senegal can legally have up to four wives—provided current wives consent—a tradition woven with love, loss, and complexity. Aladdin had only two wives.
We all drove together to our next step, since Aladdin needed a ride, and journeyed on to the sacred Kachikally Crocodile Pool, known for its population of Nile crocodiles and its cultural significance, particularly in relation to fertility. The pool is a popular tourist attraction where visitors can observe, touch, and even photograph the crocodiles, which are considered sacred and docile. They were sweet and gentle. Mostly we felt sorry for them as they didn’t seem to have a lot of space, but the crocodile handler appeared to genuinely care about their well-being, assuring us they were fine.
Lamin also taught us about Gambian nuts and seeds – they are abundant and healthy. Cashews are a big export product in the Senegambia region. He grabbed a kola nut he found nearby to illustrate. Kola nuts are chewed fresh for a bitter, caffeinated kick (contains caffeine, theobromine, and kolanin). They are important in West African hospitality, rituals, and as a symbol of friendship and respect. Kola nuts are often offered to guests, elders, or in ceremonies.
Crossing into southern Senegal, we arrived in Diouloulou, where a local family hosted us for a traditional lunch: fish, rice, and cooked vegetables (carrots and squash)—a meal grounded in hospitality and community economics. We learned more first-hand about the Senegambia culture and hospitality while there. I never did get to try the bitter tomato that Aladdin had pointed out when we were in the fields, so there’s at least one reason to come back!
Later that afternoon, by chance and careful coordination with TransAfrica, we arrived at a remote Diola (Jola) village hosting a traditional mask ceremony—not staged for tourists, but timed for villagers themselves. We were the only outsiders. The ceremony began with a solitary Kumpo emerging from the sacred forest. Then the gorilla-like Niasse appeared, followed by the horned enforcer Samay. Later, a second Kumpo joined, transforming the clearing into an electric dance of spirit and spectator.
Drums pulsated. Villagers dodged and danced around the masks in a playful game of chase. The Kumpo—believed to be forest spirits—twirled in a whirlwind of palm leaves; Samay maintained order; Niasse embodied unpredictable power. This ritual mirrors the Boukout initiation rites of Diola youth—rites held every few decades wherein boys disappear into the forest, emerging as initiated men via the circumcision ritual. Women unfortunately are also circumcised often at the rate of over 90% in the Senegambia region, with a similar cloud of mystery around the ritual. Masked performances, spiritual discipline, and communal identity are all woven into Boukout’s symbolic tapestry. Though distinct, the Mandinka Kankurang rite shares structural kinship—leaf-clad spirit figures, moral instruction, and social reinforcement (en.wikipedia.org, ich.unesco.org).
Eventually, I was ushered into the ring for a dance, and afterwards so was Brendan. At this point I really had to pee as I had been cameling it for over 6 hours (a recurring theme on the trip), but was able to set the discomfort aside and still get into the moment. Awkward but exhilarated, we attempted to dance like the locals among spirits, dodged wooden sticks, and laughed under the dust-filled sky. Not a show—but a living ritual that pulsed beneath centuries of Diola tradition.
That evening, we enjoyed a hearty dinner beside the Casamance River at the quiet sanctuary of Hotel Kadiandoumagne, drums still echoing in memory. Dinner was a bit hard to figure out since there wasn’t much guidance on what TransAfrica covered, but we made do with the waiter (little English though – now we were in French, Madinka, and Diola territory) and had some good soup and lasagna, and fried bananas for dessert. Decidedly not meat and rice – and least for tonight!
We slept well under the mosquito netted bed, but still managed to get bit up despite our comprehensive lotion routine. Other than the discomfort of being bit, we didn’t worry about disease since we got all the vaccines at our local travel clinic well in advance (chikungunya, rabies, meningitis, typhoid fever), and were taking Malarone prophylaxis daily for Malaria. We each also had received the yellow fever vaccine previously, and had a handful of Z-packs just in case. Traveling well prepared is half the battle.
Day 3: 14 Feb 2025 – Sacred Kings, Border Hopping, Colonial Lines, Ethnic Maps
After a just OK breakfast, we began the day by visiting a traditional impluvium house—an adobe structure housing up to four generations in the Casamance region in Senegambia, built around a courtyard with a central light well for rainwater and ventilation. Though rustic, this home featured solar-power panels and a few napping cats, reminding us that tradition and modernity weave together in Diola life. We enjoyed the livestock and cats at the house, as did our driver, Mamina.
Later that morning, we surprised Lamin with an impromptu border crossing request into Guinea‑Bissau, which he agreed to accommodate! With casual charm, he negotiated passage with guards—no bureaucracy, no bribes—and led us into another country for a quick, surreal souvenir-buying expedition (hello, roasted cashews!). Twenty minutes later, we were back, passports unstamped but hearts fuller. Whenever within spitting distance of a new country, even while not exactly planned on the itinerary, we’ve learned that the universe usually favors the bold and it typically works out (e.g. my crossing to Yemen from South Oman). Lamin ended up being one of our favorite guides because he was so flexible and also street smart. I think at one point he also asked around for the best money exchange for USD and negotiated a very good deal on our behalf.
Back in Senegal, our next stop was a meeting with Sibilumbai Diedhiou, the King of Oussouye, a high priest and elder statesman who shared insight into Diola customs. While his reach is local to Oussouye, a set of villages within Casamance, he is sought throughout the region where Diola custom is practices to help resolve conflict and perform mediation and alms for the people. Even in police and state matters, often his wisdom is sought ahead of the official proceedings as he can often resolve matters amongst his patrons. In his native tongue, translated by Lamin, the king described the purpose he serves for the local community, some information on his lineage and tradition, and answered some of our questions, including the meaning of the bamboo broom he carries (the symbol of power for the animist Jola people). The most important thing to know is that the Diola kings aren’t born but rather chosen by a council of elders – Sibilumbai replaced the previous king in 2000, who was eerily missing for over a decade. His main purpose to to maintain cohesion and peace in the local Diola community and sits as equal (if not above in his mediation role) to other spiritual leaders that his community members have incorporated into their traditions. Senegal and The Gambia are both overwhelmingly Muslim (95–97%), with Christian and animist minorities. In Casamance, many Diola communities maintain syncretic beliefs, blending Islam, Christianity, and lineage-based animism—especially within initiation rites and ceremonies like Boukout.
My question was around “what brings you the most joy in your role?” which was a question he had never been asked, and he enjoyed answering it. It was the only time we saw a smile cross his face. In answering, he described a community food program allowing villagers to receive aid anonymously—even from the king—preserving dignity in a world that too often overlooks humility. While we wanted to stay and ask more questions, we already felt that we were getting late as we had a flight to catch in less than 2 hours and we weren’t terribly close to the airport yet. We were a little stressed about missing our flight, but Lamin and our driver didn’t seem worried at all – when in Rome and what not!
Similar to the Kumpo mask ceremonies, the visit with the King didn’t run on tourist calendars. They happen when the village needs them—for the community itself. We were just lucky to be visiting at a time when the mask ceremony was happening nearby and the king was available for visitation. TransAfrica arranged for us to witness them, but they weren’t inherently for us. We would not have been able to discover these ourselves without local help and appreciated working with Transafrica specifically for makes experiences like these accessible.
As we journeyed over the next hour towards the Cap Skirring airport, Lamin shared more of the history beneath our feet and of the broader Senegambia region. The Gambia is a narrow ribbon carved by British colonial power around the Gambia River, surrounded on three sides by French-speaking Senegal. That curious legacy left Gambians speaking English, while just beyond the southern border, in Casamance, locals speak French but identify culturally with Mandinka and Diola traditions. We heard a lot of French mixed with the local tribal languages (often Wolof or Jola) throughout Senegal.
This complex geography and political tension define Senegambia, a region where colonial lines divide, but cultural roots remain tightly intertwined.
Throughout our journey in The Gambia and Senegambia, Lamin shared some information around the various cultures, now summarized by ChatGPT:
Mandinka
- Ethnic Group:
- One of the largest ethnic groups in West Africa, spread across The Gambia, Senegal (especially Casamance), Mali, Guinea, and Sierra Leone.
- In The Gambia, they make up about 34% of the population.
- Language:
- Mandinka (or Manding) belongs to the Mande branch of the Niger-Congo language family.
- Spoken widely in The Gambia and Casamance, as well as parts of Guinea-Bissau and Mali.
- Culture:
- Historically linked to the Mali Empire and its trading networks.
- Mostly Muslim, but often mix Islamic practice with traditional beliefs.
- Known for griots (oral historians) and kora music traditions.
Diola (Jola, Ajamat)
- Ethnic Group:
- Indigenous to the Casamance region of Senegal, southwestern Gambia, and northern Guinea-Bissau.
- In Senegal, they make up about 4–5% of the population.
- Language:
- Speak various Diola languages (Ajamat, Fogny, etc.), which are part of the Atlantic branch of the Niger-Congo family but not mutually intelligible with Wolof or Mandinka.
- Culture:
- Traditionally rice farmers in a lush, wetland environment.
- Strong tradition of animism—worshipping nature spirits and honoring ancestors.
- Known for masked ceremonies like Kumpo, Samay, and Niasse, and for Boukout initiation rites.
- Many Diola today are Muslim or Christian, but often blend those religions with traditional animist beliefs.
Wolof
- Ethnic Group:
- Largest ethnic group in Senegal (~40% of the population) and a significant minority in The Gambia and Mauritania.
- Predominantly found in northwest Senegal and along the coast.
- Language:
- Wolof is also the most widely spoken language in Senegal, serving as a lingua franca even among non-Wolof ethnic groups.
- Part of the Atlantic branch of the Niger-Congo family (distantly related to Diola).
- Culture:
- Mostly Muslim.
- Highly influential in Senegalese politics, commerce, and popular culture.
- Known for rich oral traditions and the vibrant music scene, especially mbalax.
Our guide, Lamin, was a mix of Mandinka on his mom’s side and Senegalese Wolof on his dad’s – he explained he didn’t see his dad much growing up as he was raised in Gambia with his mom while his dad was in Senegal working. We believe our driver was a Diola because he was from the Casamance region, spoke the local dialect, and really came along once we crossed The Gambian border back to southern Senegal, especially during the Kumpo ceremony and the visit with the king.
We arrived at the airport and I was so glad because once more I really needed to pee, after cameling it again since breakfast. Bathroom stops were difficult and not necessarily built into the Transafrica itinerary for the traveler’s comfort, so we quickly realized bush stops were the way to go and just had to get over this particular difficulty as a woman traveler.
Though our Cap Skirring flight to Dakar was delayed by a couple of hours (island time!), time slipped away easily in the warm, salty air. By the time we landed, very late, our new guide Birame was still waiting for us, but chided us a little for the lateness (shrug). He and our driver Djibe whisked us away into the night and on to our hotel, the Mövenpick Resort Lamantin Saly quite late.
We felt as though we’d traveled far beyond mere geography – French was now flowing freely again and Europeans surrounded us at the resort in Saly, a wealthy suburb of Dakar. Actually, it was only the 3rd day and we had already visited three countries and experienced a lot of the Senegambia culture, so a sense of accomplishment was already there.
And yet, as ocean breezes lulled us toward dawn, we realized this was just one chapter. Now once again north of Casamance in Dakar and northern Senegal, more surprises still awaited.
Senegal onward.
