Anthony meets an Italian woman at our hotel who's been in Senegal for two weeks. He asks her where she's traveled in the country -- Saint Louis? Djoudj Park? Dakar? The Siné-Saloum Delta? -- and she looks absolutely shocked. She replies, "I don't travel; I vacation." Oooookaaaaay. Point taken. So our new family motto is "We don't vacation; we adventure." Which doesn't mean we can't relax every once in a while.
The point of being on a tropical coast is not just to play in the hotel pool. So to the beach we go.
Most of the beaches are private, and we are kicked off of two (that are completely empty, mind you) until we find the lovely Obama Beach area, where they are willing to let you stay if you have lunch there. Luckily, the food is excellent, and we are hungry. We have a family read-aloud while we wait for the meal to arrive. Usually, we choose books that relate to the location. We try to read King Solomon's Mines, a classic old children's book about Africa, but after the N-word is used several times in the first two pages, and the Victorian language has nearly put us all to sleep, we give up and switch over to a fantastic, modern Wild West children's book called The Misadventures of Maude March.
We don't know what the beach was called before the Obama Beach Hotel was built in the last few years, but Obama himself is immensely popular here. My uncle, who used to live in Senegal, told us to make sure to tell people's we're American. In fact, though speaking French is enormously helpful here, we feel like we've got the best of both worlds; it's one of the few places where it's better to have an American passport (since the US has no colonial history here). Besides the beach name, this boat in the Siné-Saloum and cart in Saint-Louis say it all.
The Obama beach is as pretty a beach spot as any place along the coast. And despite all the peddlers, we never feel bothered. In fact, we rather enjoy them. The sellers come right up to the limit, but they aren't allowed to harass the tourists on the resort property. You can buy sarongs, fruit, jewelry, statuettes, bathing suits, and more. We succumb to a couple sarongs along with some fresh fruit.
Oh fine, I admit it; we can't really spend the whole day at the beach. So we start off one of our beach days with a safari, and the other with a quad tour. I give Gigi total control of our quad, since she seems like a more comfortable (and less "careful mom") driver than me. Of course, that's before she drives us into a wall, thereby demonstrating why children are not given drivers' licenses and why it's sometimes good to drive like a careful mom. Luckily, the only casualty is a small hole in her pants and minor scrape on her knee.
While we're on the beach, Anthony takes the girls on a jet ski tour. There's not enough room for all four of us, and anyway, I probably need to relax after the trauma of being driven into a wall on a quad.
Gigi is not actually allowed to drive the jet ski herself. We don't make that mistake twice in one day.
The point of being on a tropical coast is not just to play in the hotel pool. So to the beach we go.
Most of the beaches are private, and we are kicked off of two (that are completely empty, mind you) until we find the lovely Obama Beach area, where they are willing to let you stay if you have lunch there. Luckily, the food is excellent, and we are hungry. We have a family read-aloud while we wait for the meal to arrive. Usually, we choose books that relate to the location. We try to read King Solomon's Mines, a classic old children's book about Africa, but after the N-word is used several times in the first two pages, and the Victorian language has nearly put us all to sleep, we give up and switch over to a fantastic, modern Wild West children's book called The Misadventures of Maude March.
We don't know what the beach was called before the Obama Beach Hotel was built in the last few years, but Obama himself is immensely popular here. My uncle, who used to live in Senegal, told us to make sure to tell people's we're American. In fact, though speaking French is enormously helpful here, we feel like we've got the best of both worlds; it's one of the few places where it's better to have an American passport (since the US has no colonial history here). Besides the beach name, this boat in the Siné-Saloum and cart in Saint-Louis say it all.
The Obama beach is as pretty a beach spot as any place along the coast. And despite all the peddlers, we never feel bothered. In fact, we rather enjoy them. The sellers come right up to the limit, but they aren't allowed to harass the tourists on the resort property. You can buy sarongs, fruit, jewelry, statuettes, bathing suits, and more. We succumb to a couple sarongs along with some fresh fruit.
There's a guy who comes to the beach everyday and does tricks. Oddly, he does not do this for tips (we try), but rather to find a promoter who will bring him to Western Europe, or a Western European woman he can marry. But only one who is still of childbearing age. He's quite clear about it.
But it's not all shopping and gymnastics. We enjoy the tranquil setting.
Oh fine, I admit it; we can't really spend the whole day at the beach. So we start off one of our beach days with a safari, and the other with a quad tour. I give Gigi total control of our quad, since she seems like a more comfortable (and less "careful mom") driver than me. Of course, that's before she drives us into a wall, thereby demonstrating why children are not given drivers' licenses and why it's sometimes good to drive like a careful mom. Luckily, the only casualty is a small hole in her pants and minor scrape on her knee.
While we're on the beach, Anthony takes the girls on a jet ski tour. There's not enough room for all four of us, and anyway, I probably need to relax after the trauma of being driven into a wall on a quad.
Gigi is not actually allowed to drive the jet ski herself. We don't make that mistake twice in one day.
For us, apparently, "vacation" is more about travel and adventure and less about vacation. But that's not to say we don't enjoy our days spent on the beach doing, well, almost nothing and just watching the sun slowly set.
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