Gruelling Banjuls

Morning all. 8 am update: The entire convoy of 20-odd vehicles all eventually made it to the Gambian border around midnight after a nightmare crawl along Senegalese roads which have 'potholes the size of... England'. Everyone sailed through Gambian customs, nice chaps who even took the trouble to say 'Welcome to Gambia', unlike every other border guard they've encountered. They were furnished with escorts by 'Uncle Sam Security', sent as guides by the hotel, since the border area is a little bohemian, ripe for gentrification in estate-agent speak, who whisked them to a secure compound where they spent the night in their vehicles waiting for the ferry to open. (I assume the secure compound is a locked fenced area, rather than a heavily guarded bottle of, say, potassium permanganate *bdum-tish!*)

[tumbleweed]

Ahem. Our determined double duo were first up this morning and are thus the first of the PBC-ers in the ferry queue (but many Gambians got up even before them, so there's still a long wait; the ferry only takes 6 vehicles at a time, see pic [Wikipedia]). The Safari Garden Hotel is about a mile the other side of the river, where our mechanical missionaries can finally offload the vehicles (which are currently full of rescued Canadians - hope someone finds them a good home), with a tear and a wave no doubt and go off on a jolly for a few days. Sorry, did I say jolly? I meant cultural exchange to add valuable context to the fundraising effort. We'll hold the celebrations till they actually hand the vehicles over, but the fat lady with the pointy helmet is warming up in the wings... Cheers - Phil.