All travel has its advantages. If the passenger visits better countries, he may learn to improve his own, and if fortune carries him to worse, he may learn to enjoy it. - Samuel Johnson

7 February 2020, Louga to Saint Louis, 25.9km + 50km by bus + 6.1km
Chez Titi 11,460XOF (R280)

Our less than “lekker” (nice) day ended well…
I awoke to extreme dizziness, cause unknown. Half asleep still, I swung my legs out of bed and had an episode in which it felt as though the bed collapsed beneath me and Charl’s side tilted over my head. Disturbing.
Then, when Charl went out to check on the tyres, a morning ritual, he found I had a flat, which he changed. Soon after noon, with a windy 22km only in the bag, I had another puncture. Though we changed the tube, we could not pump it as our pump decided “uh uh”.
With still 50km to go to Saint Louis, we pushed the bikes around 2km to a small village marked on Google Maps, but really, there was nothing there. We were standing still at the intersection debating our options when an overloaded yellow bus pulled up across the road from us. “Let’s take the bus”, said Charl and, seeing my acquiescence, began to run his bike toward the bus, whistling to attract the attention of the handlers as it began to move away from the stop. Before we knew it, the bikes were on the roof, the bags in the hold, and we in the bus.
I just love public transport in Africa - anything is possible. It was a large bus, its roofrack piled fairly high with luggage and produce and our two bikes. Inside, fold-down seats filled the aisles, making on- and off-boarding a complex process requiring forethought and tolerance.
Filling the bus is a priority, as is speed. Two men work to achieve these ends, leaving the driver to drive. Before arriving at a stopping place, bags from the racks above the seats are passed forward to the open mid-section door. On arrival, those on the fold-down seats stand, fold away their seats, and make space for departing passengers to squeeze past toward the door and their waiting luggage. The handlers help people on and off, packing bigger items on the roof.
At one stop, a young woman boarded, a vendor. She wore a pleated yellow skirt, a leopard print T, and a mustard headscarf, and brought on board two large plastic containers and a silver flask. Standing precariously near the open doorway, she sold small cakes in plastic bags, a yoghurt-cereal mix in a carboard cup (with a plastic spoon), and hot coffee to the passengers. Bought items were passed from passenger to passenger to buyer; money from buyer to passenger to vendor.
In Saint Louis, where we were dropped turned out to be near a tyre repair shop. This was a good thing, as Charl’s bike, handed down from the roofrack, proved also to have a flat, and we were out of tubes.
While waiting for the repair job, I decided to plot our route to our hotel booked via Travelocity. Switching on my phone, I was surprised and unhappy to find an email from Chez Titi saying they could not, after all, accommodate us. The problem was, I had secured a 50% special deal discount and paid in full for three nights, and could see no way on the Travelocity site to recover my payment. We decided to go to Chez Titi anyway, and were pleased to have done so as they agreed we could stay despite the renovations they were undertaking. We liked the location, our room and bathroom, and the rooftop terrace overlooking the narrow flow of the Senegal River between the island on which the old city sits and the spit of land that separates the river from the sea. We cycled there across the wider section of the Senegal River, crossing to the island via the metal Faidherbe bridge.
In the evening we walked the sandy streets to La Kora, an attractive courtyard restaurant serving excellent fare.

For today's route see below photos
For overview route, click on ROUTE tab above…

See two maps below