If colour is the language of dreams, what about the many names we use to describe colours? Yes, we can say blue, red, green, yellow, pink, and everyone will have a mental image of each colour as it is named. But will we all have the same image? There are so many reds, so many greens, so many pinks … You get my drift!
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Stay in the right place and you may find you don’t have to stray far from your accommodation to see beautiful birds. Such a spot is Mandina Lodge in Gambia, a few miles inland and a million miles away in spirit from the coastal resorts.
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The river Gambia runs through the heart of the country of the same name, splitting it into two narrow strips, north and south of the river. To the west is the Atlantic Ocean; on all other sides the country is surrounded by Senegal.
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Studio photographers can spend a lot of time getting the light just right, changing the angles, adjusting the brightness and colour. Landscape photographers don’t have that luxury; we have to work with the light we have, or wait until it changes naturally.
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The catch was brought in hours ago. But the fishing quay in Bakau, in northern Gambia, is nevertheless a hive of activity. Many of the colourful pirogues are pulled up on the beach. Others are floating offshore, as the fishermen check and mend their nets and other equipment. Those that have finished their work sit chatting or try to make a few extra delasi by showing tourists around.
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It has become quite usual to see murals on many of the walls of our cities. Whether we call it graffiti or street art; whether we love it or hate it; it is part of the urban landscape. But do we expect to see it in a remote rural village in the Gambia?
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You don’t need to be a keen birdwatcher to be captivated by the variety and number of birds to be found in the Gambia. The country is considered to be a birdwatcher's paradise, and even as a non-expert and fairly mild enthusiast I had great fun spotting and photographing (or in some cases trying to photograph) the myriad species here.
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Weaving his way expertly between the throngs of sellers and buyers, our driver and new friend Habib led us deep into the heart of the market. The place was so packed it was hard to make progress at times, especially with the occasional car or bush taxi trying to squeeze through the crowds, and the many porters with their wheelbarrows shouting at everyone to make way.
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Top ten lists are somewhat invidious things. No sooner have you published one than you realise you have omitted something you should have included, or included something that on second thoughts might have been better omitted. So it is with some hesitation that I offer my top ten list of places we have stayed.
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As our boat neared the jetty some village children ran to meet us. Whether in excitement at the break in the routine of the day, or in expectation that tourists meant tips, I wasn't sure - probably a mix of the two. I couldn't help but reflect how differently the boats docking here would have been greeted in the past.
