Best laid plans and being careful what you wish for. My first day of traveling isn't how I normally do things and I discovered why I'm a pro.
Those who know me know I hate airports. They can have as many waterfalls and monorails as they want (is the airport seriously the only thing to see in Singapore?!), but they're all a holding pen for people wanting/needing to be somewhere else. There's only so long you can look at butterflies (it's unbelievably cruel) before the boredom sets in. Despite this, I like getting to the airport three hours before my flight - mainly because I don't trust airport security or airport parking places.
I got the Heathrow Terminal 4 about and an hour and a half before the flight. I left later as my travel companion was going to be later. And I got horrendously lost finding where I was supposed to park. It's the Premier Inn car park and I didn't read the small print to find that out.
After screaming (literally) down Hounslow, circling T4 umteen times, I finally pulled in to a rival parking company and asked for directions.
Blood pressure: a million over normal
Luckily, we sailed through check-in and security. I even managed to grab a glass of wine and nachos before getting on our Royal Air Maroc flight to Banjul, the Gambia via Casablanca, Morocco.
The flight was fine. A little delayed but at least not BA delayed...
We only had an hour to get to our connecting flight and I remembered when I flew to Ghana with the same airline and stopover that Casablanca immigration was carnage. Now, there is a shiny new bit and we sailed through to board our flight early. And it was almost completely empty. Perhaps this is because of 22:35 flight time or maybe Banjul isn't a popular destination. Anyway, I enjoyed having three seats to myself to have a little sleepy.
We're staying at the Coco Ocean Spa and Resort in Serrekunda. I like nice hotels.
I know I was a backpacking, hostel, public transport evangelist, but boy it's nice to have a little of luxury and, dare I say it, independence. One of the perks in an airport shuttle, but Coco were charging 40 euros for a 25 minute journey. I did a bit of research and discovered that it shouldn't cost more than £6, add a couple of quid for it being 2am and it's still a hell of a lot cheaper.
So there we were. In Banjul airport. A couple of wide-eyed white girls. At 2am. Looking for a ride. We were lambs to the slaughter. However, we were charged £13 (the exchange was 60 dalasi to £1), plus 200D to the guy who brokered our taxi and a 200D tip to our driver. It didn't help we didn't have smaller denominations or that a group of men surrounded us as we extracted money for the ATM, so they knew exactly how much cash we had on us.
Tip: There is yellow fever in the Gambia, however, they do not check your certificate on arrival.
The hotel is stunning. The Victorian height proportions of the room and the Moorish dome style of the white buildings that make this resort. It's straight out of the pages of a wedding magazine. In the cold hard light of day, you can this 12-year-old hotel is a bit worn around the edges.
But before we get to that bit... Landing at 2, getting to the hotel room by 3ish, we were exhausted. My friend doesn't like aircon (nor do I, FTR), however being wrapped up like an embalmed corpse, sweating like a priest in a playground while mosquitos danced around me like it was Christmas is not how I choose to sleep, especially when I'm in a 5-star resort.
The night was disturbed with messages (which I love), work alarms I forgot to turn off, an impressive storm and the most beautiful dawn chorus from Gambia's panoply of birds - makes a change from the squawking of crows and drill of the murder of magpies I normally wake up to.
First published on 10/09/2019 10:14
