akar in Senegal, aspiring to modernity, but these new beginnings sprout from dirt and litter of third world chaos. Of course, we drive past an impressive Presidential Palace left from French Colonial times, embassies in tree-lined streets and overlooking the sea, Catholic churches and mosques, but there’s no hiding the ravages of underdevelopment that we encounter in a few hours.
lighting from the bus to visit a market under the trees by the sea, my nostrils are accosted by a smell so putrid, I can hardly breathe. With Edmundo telling me to be quiet as I sound like a tourist, I take a proffered handwipe cloth and cover my nose. The local guide dismisses the odour as ‘fishmarkets’ but it can only be sewers. And the beach nearby is piled with hundreds of fishing boats. A public health hazard surely!
View Photos. CLICK HERE