Day 62: Dakar
Somehow we don't sleep well. Brigitte is alternately hot and cold, Wolle is uneasy about all the things that are going through our minds.
In the morning, after breakfast, we go looking for a malaria test. The pharmacy doesn't do any and refers you to one of the hospitals. This one, very close by, does a rapid test that is very reminiscent of Corona. We have these too and now we know how it works. The test is negative. It's probably more of a side effect of eating, as Wolle isn't entirely comfortable either. The hospital is great – helpful and friendly people and the whole thing at the expense of the community.
It should be mentioned again that we did not want to do any prophylaxis given the long duration of the journey. We were also advised against it. But since we get stung despite protective clothing, sprays and nets at the bed and consider traveling faster, the question arises as to whether prophylaxis might not be possible. It would just be a little more relaxed. Anyway – since there is no Malarone in the pharmacies, we don't have a choice, at least at the moment.
Toyota Express Service is on the agenda today. Our right turn signal is hectic (usually a sign that something is wrong), even though all the light bulbs are ok.
On the way to the workshop we are waved out twice. The problem the second time is that Wolle is talking to his brother and Brigitte is holding the cell phone too far in Wolle's direction. The policeman wants to confiscate Wolle's driver's license, give us a ticket and summon us to the station (tomorrow). We end up paying 10,000 CFA (around 15 euros) without a receipt, but at least we have the driver's license back – unfortunately that's how it is with corrupt police officers.
The workshop is a failure. There's no real work being done on the car, but they say they've replaced all the bulbs and stuff like that. We wait from 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. and then look for something to eat since everyone else is also taking a lunch break. It's not that easy in the industrial area at the harbor and given the unstable state of our stomachs (perhaps it was the Haroussa skewer the day before yesterday) we forego food from one of the food stalls that doesn't inspire much confidence. By the time we finally found a small restaurant, ate the “Plate du Jour” (surprise! Chicken with…) and traipsed back through the heat, it was three o’clock. And nothing happened. When the technicians drive the car onto the lifting platform, we stop the waste of time. It takes a little excitement and we get our car back without it being at least more broken than before. And we actually don't have to pay anything.
However, the fact that our compressor didn't work yesterday was an operator error. The busy boys washing the car had probably accidentally started the compressor. Then of course he doesn't need to start, as the pressure has already built up.
Today we drive through the southern tip of Dakar. It's really nice here. Rather with somewhat southern European-looking residential buildings, streets with trees, shops that we would also go into. Without a car this would be a nice hotel area.
We realize that, despite all the organization, we didn't take care of the fridge and the fruit in the car – ouch – we definitely have to do that tomorrow.
We'll stay with our cockroach family this night and tomorrow we'll move from the hotel to a guesthouse for one night. It's cheaper, maybe we can wash a few things and we want to plan the next few days in peace.