Toubab week-end
After spending 10 days almost exclusively in Senegalese company in a very Senegalese environment in Rufisque and central Dakar, I felt like doing something completely different and touristy, something that toubabs (white/Europeans) do. So on a Saturday morning I packed my small backbag, forgot almost everything that was necessary except sunscreen which I sort of forgot to apply later on, and headed to the Route National No. 1 which passes by Rufisque and normally takes me to the other direction, towards Dakar.
With the help of asking directions from a few locals, I found the spot for direct bush taxis, one of which took me from Rufisque to Toubab Dialaw. I am evidently getting used to the local comfort standards: sitting at the furthest back seat (the 7-place taxis, Peugeot 506s have three rows, like in a family car) I was waiting for the car to get full. While the Senegalese mamas were packing their bagages and stuff in the trunk, I was wondering where the smell of fish came from, turned my head and saw about 10 kgs of fish piled in the trunk, just behind me. Swearing silently I shrugged my shoulders and hoped that the natural ventilation – open car windows – would at least keep the flies away during the trip. In one hour I arrived safely as the last passenger on board at the end stop, and paid the 400 CFA (around 0,70€) as everybody else.
Guidebooks tend to praise Toubab Dialaw, the first beach resort on the Petite Côte stretching south from Rufisque as one of the nicest, more low-key and quiet holiday destinations in Senegal. After spending a week-end there, I can confirm this, but the writers have forgotten to mention that it might be more relaxing to go there with someone, and definitely not as a lonely woman. One of the most annoying toubab effects is having hordes of young rastamen following you wherever you go, offering all kinds of services, but well – one just has to live with it, and either stay inside the hotel compound or stay away from those resorts altogether.
Beach where you are never alone - at least the dogs are always there.
After a quiet dinner by myself, I decided to pop in the local small disco next to the hotel where I was staying. When entering I just stared at the venue with disbelief for the first few seconds: it had about 30 local men (or from neighbouring countries, at least Guinea and some anglophone countries were present) dancing, drinking or sitting around, and almost no women. In short, I felt like stepping into a snake pit.
I mentioned the visible lack of women to the first one coming to chat me up, and he tried to show me all the three women that were there – one of them the bartender. It was quite hilarious in a way, but reggae music and the feeling of being trapped drove me quickly away to my 4000 CFA (6 euros) dorm bed.
I had a few plans on what to do during a perfect toubab week-end: to go for a horseback ride, and go for dance and/or drumming classes in the hotel Sobo-Bade where I was staying in. I ended up only doing the former, as my muscles were too sore on the next day (and still are, after 5 days!) to even think about any physical exercise. Not to mention my skin which was a bit red and sore after walking on the beach before the horse trip.
Somehow things always look better on horse-back.
Sunday was spent as it should be: sleeping late, eating slow breakfast on an exquisite terrace with a view to the sea, reading in a hammock and having a super-expensive lunch in the local standards (5000 CFA, almost 8€). Seeing the tourist prices in general was a bit shocking: after getting used to having coffee to go in a plastic mug for 50 CFA (0,07€), or to sit down and drink it in a glass for 100-200 CFA (0,15-0,30€), it felt outrageous to pay 500 CFA or more for a cup of coffee, or 2 euros for a breakfast including coffee, bread and an omelette when usually it costs one euro. Now when writing these prices down it feels ridiculous to be worrying about such sums of money, but still: local coffee costs 10 times more in a tourist place than on the street! I guess we can afford it, and enjoy the views then...
Not bad for a breakfast view.
For tourists potentially heading out for Toubab Dialaw: Sobo-Bade is indeed highly recommended, huge cultural hotel complex also offering batik, drumming and dance classes as well as excursions. It was the first big hotel built in Toubab Dialaw in the late 1980s by a Haitian writer-artist Gérard Chenet. They also contacted the horse-ride company, Chevaliers de la Savane which offers 2-hour rides in the savanna, a few kilometres from the village for 12,500 CFA (19 €), including the lift from the village.
This highly enjoyable, albeit also frustrating week-end reminded me again of the things linked to the good and bad sides of being a tourist in Africa: yes, it can be damn beautiful – the beaches, sunsets and the nature – but that the nicest and the most genuine people are not found in the tourist resorts. This was one of the reasons that it felt so great to return to the usual office life, to the busy streets of Dakar and just to converse with ”normal” Senegalese people at the Scouts' House in the fairly ugly town of Rufisque.
Hammock-time in Toubab Dialaw.
With the help of asking directions from a few locals, I found the spot for direct bush taxis, one of which took me from Rufisque to Toubab Dialaw. I am evidently getting used to the local comfort standards: sitting at the furthest back seat (the 7-place taxis, Peugeot 506s have three rows, like in a family car) I was waiting for the car to get full. While the Senegalese mamas were packing their bagages and stuff in the trunk, I was wondering where the smell of fish came from, turned my head and saw about 10 kgs of fish piled in the trunk, just behind me. Swearing silently I shrugged my shoulders and hoped that the natural ventilation – open car windows – would at least keep the flies away during the trip. In one hour I arrived safely as the last passenger on board at the end stop, and paid the 400 CFA (around 0,70€) as everybody else.
Guidebooks tend to praise Toubab Dialaw, the first beach resort on the Petite Côte stretching south from Rufisque as one of the nicest, more low-key and quiet holiday destinations in Senegal. After spending a week-end there, I can confirm this, but the writers have forgotten to mention that it might be more relaxing to go there with someone, and definitely not as a lonely woman. One of the most annoying toubab effects is having hordes of young rastamen following you wherever you go, offering all kinds of services, but well – one just has to live with it, and either stay inside the hotel compound or stay away from those resorts altogether.
Beach where you are never alone - at least the dogs are always there.
After a quiet dinner by myself, I decided to pop in the local small disco next to the hotel where I was staying. When entering I just stared at the venue with disbelief for the first few seconds: it had about 30 local men (or from neighbouring countries, at least Guinea and some anglophone countries were present) dancing, drinking or sitting around, and almost no women. In short, I felt like stepping into a snake pit.
I mentioned the visible lack of women to the first one coming to chat me up, and he tried to show me all the three women that were there – one of them the bartender. It was quite hilarious in a way, but reggae music and the feeling of being trapped drove me quickly away to my 4000 CFA (6 euros) dorm bed.
I had a few plans on what to do during a perfect toubab week-end: to go for a horseback ride, and go for dance and/or drumming classes in the hotel Sobo-Bade where I was staying in. I ended up only doing the former, as my muscles were too sore on the next day (and still are, after 5 days!) to even think about any physical exercise. Not to mention my skin which was a bit red and sore after walking on the beach before the horse trip.
Somehow things always look better on horse-back.
Sunday was spent as it should be: sleeping late, eating slow breakfast on an exquisite terrace with a view to the sea, reading in a hammock and having a super-expensive lunch in the local standards (5000 CFA, almost 8€). Seeing the tourist prices in general was a bit shocking: after getting used to having coffee to go in a plastic mug for 50 CFA (0,07€), or to sit down and drink it in a glass for 100-200 CFA (0,15-0,30€), it felt outrageous to pay 500 CFA or more for a cup of coffee, or 2 euros for a breakfast including coffee, bread and an omelette when usually it costs one euro. Now when writing these prices down it feels ridiculous to be worrying about such sums of money, but still: local coffee costs 10 times more in a tourist place than on the street! I guess we can afford it, and enjoy the views then...
Not bad for a breakfast view.
For tourists potentially heading out for Toubab Dialaw: Sobo-Bade is indeed highly recommended, huge cultural hotel complex also offering batik, drumming and dance classes as well as excursions. It was the first big hotel built in Toubab Dialaw in the late 1980s by a Haitian writer-artist Gérard Chenet. They also contacted the horse-ride company, Chevaliers de la Savane which offers 2-hour rides in the savanna, a few kilometres from the village for 12,500 CFA (19 €), including the lift from the village.
This highly enjoyable, albeit also frustrating week-end reminded me again of the things linked to the good and bad sides of being a tourist in Africa: yes, it can be damn beautiful – the beaches, sunsets and the nature – but that the nicest and the most genuine people are not found in the tourist resorts. This was one of the reasons that it felt so great to return to the usual office life, to the busy streets of Dakar and just to converse with ”normal” Senegalese people at the Scouts' House in the fairly ugly town of Rufisque.
Hammock-time in Toubab Dialaw.
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