Total rant - probably best ignored.

Next stop the border of Senegal. We had been warned by every guide book and fellow traveller that the border at

Rosso into Senegal was one of the most hassly in west Africa. The alternative was to turn west just 300m before the

border post and drive 90km along a dirt track to Diama Barrage. The problem was we were new to off-roading and

didn't know that Pinky Ponk was a 4x4 in disguise. So when people in the town said that the road was too bad after the

rains, we believed them. When we said that we didn't want to go through their border because we had heard that it was

very stressful and full of scammers and conmen, they said no no it's fine, we'll help you -ha, ha.

And so began the worst experience of our trip so far. We were quite calm at first, the river Senegal was quite lovely, the

ferry was there waiting, all looked fine. We just had to visit various offices handing over wads a cash for various stamps,

this was easy, just expensive. The whole time your not sure what's legitamate, even though they hand you all these

preprinted receipts for the money. Eventually we came to the customs which had just shut until 3 pm. We waited patiently

as the temperature rose. There was nowhere to get even a drink of water. We went to the river to paddle but the bottom

was littered with unspeakable things so we just sat there whilst the blokes around us cleaned every orifices of their bodies

in the water. Eventually, the customs man returned and although we were at the front of the queue, he took everyone

documents first before dealing with any of them which put ours on the bottom. By this time the ferry is almost full and

leaving. The car queuing system had worked the same as the customs office - we were at the front of the barrier which

turned out to be unopenable so all the cars behind us were loaded first and we were still there. I finally got our Laisser

Passer stamped but it turned out that it was a different guy who had to write the export details in the passport and he

wasn't there! At last he arrived, this time I was last so I had high hopes, but no - this man was methodical about order!

Eventually he did mine and I was about to run back to the car when I was informed it needed to be stamped. Ok, stamp

it - but that required a third man who wasn't there! The poor kids are in the car, it must have been 40 degrees plus, the

ferries engines were running. The guy finally arrived only to be unable to find the stamp - 30 minutes later the first guy

produced it from the drawer of his desk. I ran to the car and we drove to the ramp. Luckily for us the ferry had

developed engine trouble and was delayed. We found the ferry captain and asked if we could squeeze on the end, there

was plenty of room. He walked backwards and forwards studying the car and then the space and finally said to show him

our ferry ticket. Ah, no ticket for the trailer, this was going to be very expensive. There we were, front wheels on the ferry

when all of a sudden the whole of the port decided to get involved in our discussion. It was chaos - one minute someone

waved Mick on, then 4 or 5 blokes would push on the car to stop it - loads of shouting - god knows who was actually in

charge. In the end I gave one man about 5 euro equivalent and this seem to do the trick for the majority of the mob so the

fought off the nay-sayers and Mick put his foot down and we were on. By this time it was about 4 pm and our trouble

hadn't even begun.

We arrive at the other side and I leave as a foot passenger with the kids and the man who is 'helping' us so that I can do

the 'formalities' ie subject myself to government extortion. We handed in the passports and waited to see Mick - all the

other cars had long passed and still no Pinky Ponk. Eventually Teo spot her being drag around the corner by about 20

Senegalese. She was now straight on the road so the pushed her up to the exit gate where it materialised that the whole

ignition was buggered. The key had broken in the lock whilst Mick was trying to start it on the ferry! It was decided by

the crowd that we should be pushed out of the customs area and into the main street of 'Hell'. I had to clear passport

control, get a Laisser Passer and insurance at the worst border in west Africa with to very hot tired children on my own -

which was definately the cushie number out of the two of us. Poor Mick first had to find the spare keys and see if they

would work but his problem was that as soon as he moved away from the drivers seat, it was filled by at least 10 black

men. He fought his way back in with the key but it was appropriated by one of the guys who managed to break that one

as well - can you believe it. Then, instead of just letting Mick back into his own car to hot-wire as he was quite capable

of doing, they insisted on calling the 'mechanic' and his mate who duly arrived with their full tool kit of two large hammers.

I arrived after completing half of my task to see the car full of blokes, two of which were beating the poor Pinky Ponk as

hard as they could in the steering wheel area. Mick was nowhere to be seen, then I heard him saying, 'if I can just get .....'

it was coming from underneath the huge throng of people outside the drivers door. Eventually he managed to stop the

hammering and hot-wire in his own way. I finally cleared customs and we were ready to leave - but no, we were now

expected to pay every single one of Mick's 'helpers' and they didn't want none of that crappy senegalese CFA, they want

hard currency. Eventually, we agree to pay the mechanic but the rest weren't happy. By this time I'm in tears, telling them

they are all a bunch of evil, insensitive bastards - the whole street was laughing at me. We get in and try to drive off, but

being 'Hell' there are so many lorries coming in the opposite direction that its grid-locked. The crowd are still hassling and

we can't even keep the windows shut because when they pushed the car, they broke all the window catches. We finally

got moving fast enough to loose the crowd. The lorries kept coming and stopped for no-one, we had just been squeezed

into a junction by one when another turned past us and took out the corner of the trailer! Mick leapt out and started

ranting, I leapt out and started crying - and the street laughed! We then checked the damage and saw it was superficial so

in we got back in and got out of 'Hell'.