We survived Rosso...

Well, we survived the cesspit that is Rosso. I'm not going to talk too much about it as my keyboard won't survive the ordeal, but I can honestly say it was the worst experience of my life. If I had the choice between going through again or spending the night with my mouth open in the gents toilets, posing as a porcelain urinal, I'd choose the latter in a heartbeat.

When we left the border, considerably poorer I might add, we had to ride in the dark - something we said we would never do. Not because we're scared of it, but our lights are to visibility what incontinence is to sex appeal. Still, somehow we made it to the Zebra Bar in Saint-Louis. Along the dirt track, Dee broke her front rack. We got it welded up:

 

 And then we got the rear racks extended. Not pretty, but functional. Look at my rack!

Then we took a canoe out over the river Senegal to the beach. Lots of crabs. They run away when you try and catch them. I'm like the king of crabs. It's always good to be in control of your crab situation. 

 And bats...

And baboons, which wake you up by thumping on the roof! There is also a picture of me in my pants pretending to be a monkey. I'm not quite sure why that's on there.

 

 

Now we are in another campsite, this time with internet. Zebra Bar is nice, but it seems a bit silly to not provide internet for what is essentially an overlanders campsite. It's bloody hot here too, with lots of mozzies.

We need to extend our passavants for the bikes somehow and then I think we are going to go to The Gambia before heading to Mali. Not really sure.

Anyway. No more Rosso. Ever.