TWITCHERS' PARADISE
I said I'd tell you about the birds.
When we first arrived at the hotel we were a little disappointed that our rooms didn't have much of a view.
It looked like we backed onto waste land.
It wasn't until we looked more closely that we realised we were right next to the hotel's own bird garden.
It doesn't look much but each morning about 7.15am the dawn chorus was amazing.
Standing on the balcony, fruit bats with a wing span of about 18" would fly right past you before hanging upside down in the branches.
Red Eyed Doves would coo and chameleons would scuttle across the ground and up trees, changing colour to match their surroundings and make them almost invisible as they soaked up the day's sunshine.
And always, high up above, there would be bigger birds like vultures and black kites. It's a twitcher's paradise!
MAKASUTU FOREST
Sunday was another early start for us. Our second tour was to Makasutu Forest an eco tourist destination founded by two Englishmen.
Once again we were collected at 8am GMT (about 8.30am) by Swiss Army Truck. We sat at the back again.
This time (most of) the roads were a lot less bumpy.
We arrived at the forest in time for coffee and biscuits before climbing in to a dug out canoe for a trip up the Mandina Bolong - a tributary of the Gambia River - spotting the wildlife along the way.
I sat just in front of the young rower. He was friendly and we chatted lots. He told me how he had been to school and done well in his education but that the only job he could get was as a cleaner.
I asked him what he wanted to do. He aspired to be a waiter.
"It's not what you know but who you know that counts here," he told me.
"I love the Gambia but just because you do well at school doesn't guarantee you a good job.
"Some people with little education get good jobs because they know people in government. Others with good education get nothing."
He told me he planned to save money and go back to school to study IT.
Half way through our trip, the canoe ran aground and we were pushed off the sandbank by a group of children who'd been playing in the river.
"They cannot talk," my new friend told me, "and because of that, they're not able to go to school."
Thoughout my trip to The Gambia, I learned lots just by talking to the locals.
Fiddler crabs waved to us from the river bank and we passed oyster fishermen checking their nets at the base of the mangroves. Then we disembarked and walked back to base.
MONKEY BUSINESS
A quick drink stop and we were on our way again. This time for an hour and a half's walk through the forest.
Baboons inhabit the trees and pathways and there are termite hills everywhere. (Don't peer into the holes: Empty termite mounds are often inhabited by Cobras who could make a play for your eye!)
We stopped at the local Bush Doctor who read our palms for 100 Dalasis and told us what our charity (or lucky charm) was.
I was instructed to throw water at a doorway and jump over it before leaving the Gambia and returning to the UK. I did!
"There was another chance to sample Palm Wine... mmmm delicious!!!!! And an opportunity to try and climb a palm tree. Smiley Paul had a go and did really well.
Back at base we enjoyed a buffet lunch and some traditional African dancing before heading back to the hotel in time for Happy Hour.
LAST DAY
And so, all too soon, it was Monday. The last day and the final trip. It was also Independence Day (18th Feb) and if we'd planned better we'd have chosen to stay around Banjul to enjoy the celebrations.
However, the Roots Tour is one not to be missed.
It was also to blame - I think - for my sunstroke!
We spent three hours on a boat heading up the river. The water was flat calm and dolphins and flying fish entertained us on the trip.
There was no horizon today. It was hazy and the water and the sky merged into one. The thermometer up on top deck read 98F in the shade.
We were heading for Juffureh, the village where Alex Hayley's book and film ROOTS is set. Kunte Kinteh's relatives still live there.
On this trip we were accompanied by two security officers from the 'tourist police'.
We were advised not to get separated from the group too. Not because we'd be in danger but because begging is rife!
I did read 'Roots' when I was younger, but that was many years ago and I think I'm going to have to get the book and read it all over again.
Walking in to the village, the paths were lined on either side by children banging out a 'welcome' on old pots and buckets and, in one or two cases, actual drums.
We visited the slave museum and met the only female tribal chief in The Gambia.
One of the resident guides provided much more information than our own tour guides; filling in the gaps and explaining more about the villagers and their customs.
When we got to the middle of the village I asked if I could give our remaining pens, pencils and notepads to the children.
"You'll start a war," he told me.
I explained that some of the gifts had been donated by listeners back home and that I'd really like a photo to show them when I got back, so he came up with a plan.
He rounded up all the youngsters and made them stand in a line about 20' away from me.
Then one by one he called them forward and I gave each one something from my bag. What an amazing experience.
A trip to the trade market allowed me to buy two large African carved masks for 350 Dalasis - that's about £9 for the pair and about a quarter the price they were charging in Banjul, then it was back to the boat for a buffet lunch on the crossing to St James' Island.
STEP BACK IN TIME
St James' Island is the holding island where slaves were detained before being transported around the world.
It was once six times larger than it is now but erosion has seen it diminish in size.
Nevertheless, looking back to Juffureh you can see why, when slaves were told they'd be granted freedom if they managed to swim to the shore and touch the flagstaff on the mainland, many of them drowned in strong currents.
Our boat was too big to get to the island so we moored up and used canoes to get to the landing stage.
There's not an awful lot to see now. But still you get the idea and realise just how many slaves were crammed into such tiny cells.
Isn't amazing what we do to each other as a human race?
With the sun still beating down, we meandered back up the river towards Banjul with the ripples sparkling all around.
Each time 'Captain Crocodile' spotted dolphins playing he'd swing the wheel and take a detour so we could watch.
I spent much of the trip standing at the front of the boat watching the flying fish fling themselves out of the water and skim across the surface.
After supper that night, things changed for me.
I didn't feel too well - I knew so because I couldn't finish my beer! That was the start of my "Banjul Belly" (or more likely self inflicted sunstroke!).
HOME TIME
I was up to the loo most of that night and the trip home the next day was nothing if not interesting! (Especially the six hour flight!)
There's a phrase; "The bottom's fallen out of my world". Rearrange those words and you'll understand exactly how I felt.
Laura had suffered one day during the holiday but a couple of tablets seemed to put her right. No number of tablets had any effect for me!
It's now Sunday, almost one week later, and today was the first day I've been able to have a full meal and be brave enough to leave the house for any length of time!
But was it all worth it?
You bet it was!
I enjoyed reading your blog