St Louis is a colonial coastal town and former capital on the Senegalese side of the border. It is also the place of Nice Burger, which it not completely is, and its accompanying beer, which most definitely is.
After exploring the chaotic, loud, bustling mainland part of town, a quick walk across Pont Faidherbe took me to another world, it seemed. French colonial architecture lined the quiet and virtually vehicle free streets, references to the air mail era was abundant, and by the water quaint restaurants lined the shore.
Overlooking the silently bobbing colourful pirouges (the local style of boat) and the bridge itself, we sat down for a few local brews before heading on towards our camp for the next couple of days.
Zebrabar lies in a bird sanctuary, and although the place certainly had more feathery friends than any other place so far on this trip, someone apparently forgot to tell the birds.
A nice and relaxing stay it was, nevertheless, with some kayaking and nice local fish.
The itinerary had definitely changed by now, and instead of turning east towards Mali, we steered south, bushcamping close to the border of The Gambia. Many were the sticky little thistle-y pods in the reed among which we pitched our tents, and the favourite pastime the next day was to painfully de-burr shoes and clothes. That, and at least for me, reading the Swedish newspapers they seem to export to Senegal, and even moreso where we were now, The Gambia.
