All aboard - squeeze on!
Thought I’d better sort out my rodent problem before my strangers (visitors) arrived. I did think they’d moved out due to lack of food. It was usually a race to scoop up the dropped crumbs and I thought I was winning. Wrong! As I was sat one evening contemplating the meaning of life, two very bold individuals galloped across the room and under my seat. Action was needed! I didn’t have a conventional trap, which I was quite pleased about as I didn’t fancy prizing a squished mouse out of the jaws of death. Luckily my neighbour had inherited some mouse catcher. It turned out to be super sticky fly paper with a dollop of peanut butter in the middle to entice the hapless creature towards its fate. As I was sitting eating my speciality Spanish omelette, the deed was done! The mouse was stuck to the peanut butter. Now what! Do I do the humane thing and bop it on the head – no too much of a wimp. Instead, still stuck to the super sticky fly paper, I dragged it outside, put ear plugs in so that I couldn’t hear it squeaking and left it to the scary creatures of the night. Never again, I’ve been on a guilt trip ever since. Mind you I think word has got around the mouse kingdom as they haven’t dared to venture back into the killing fields.
First strangers were Tracy and Ian coming to escape the January blues, get a vitamin D fix and join the happy people on the beach. Before relaxing they had to endure a gelli ride (local transport), squeezed in beside bags, babies and the odd apprentice bumster back to my compound where they were greeted by at least a million kids and Mr Touray who gratefully received the football kit they brought over which was donated by Meon Milton F.C. The million kids got even more excited when Tracy gave them all a pencil each, you’d have thought they’d all just been given the latest playstation. We escaped indoors and recuperated with a very well travelled cup of Tetleys.
Visitor number two, my lovely hubby who melted in my arms. No not through love and emotion more like sweat and exhaustion. Mission number one was to find somewhere showing the France v England rugby match. Success, a bar back in town. After a few heart stopping moments when the screen went and was replaced with divers from Acapulco we finally got to sit back and watch the spectacle. As the half time whistle went, relaxing, sipping my ice cold beer I noticed that our neighbouring table contained four very old chaps, whose faces seemed to have melted and on average were probably older than God. I couldn’t understand how they managed to have four very beautiful young ladies draped all over them. The only thing I could think was that the guys must’ve had very nice personalities.
A bumpy ride
Next stop Baboon Island which is part of The River Gambia national Park and home to rehabilitated chimps. The way there was not easy. It involved gellis, very slow ferries and finally a horse and cart which funnily enough didn’t have suspension and as my nether regions are lacking padding at the moment turned out to be a very painful ride. On the way we passed a guy with a goat on his shoulders, probably the equivalent of a Gambian takeaway. Nik’s comment was ‘It must be getting chilly , even the locals have their goats on!’ Tee hee, wished I’d had my camera. The wildlife was wonderful chimps, baboons and assorted monkeys all topped off with hippos, a croc and all shapes and sizes of birds. Best of all was the food, warthog and chips for tea. The nearest thing I’ve had to bacon since Xmas. Our week ended with a couple of relaxing days on the beach. Well I say relaxing, the Robinson/Carter household doesn’t do relaxing very well. We did have a twenty mile bike ride to get there and compulsory runs along the beach before we were allowed to sit, read drink and be merry. The week soon ended and it was back to the airport, followed by a raft of emotions and soggy hankies. Counting down the days until next time.
Our pad by the beach
Sunset
