Airport to Bijilo

The Gambia is one of the smallest countries in Africa.It runs along the length of the River Gambia and is surrounded on all sides by Senegal.There was a time a few years ago that the two countries were going to merge and be called Senagambia but it did  not work out. Somehow it feels like a link in my travel chain that a lot of the beach sellers who pester us on the beaches in Italy come from Senegal. I wonder where they get the better life? That is a genuine question. They are not welcomed in Italy and they do not integrate in anyway. The answer is not a good one is it? Either way these people were born on the tough side of the street. It would appear to be the same here for many Gambians.
Our first impressions of here?  It is too early to say.

Leaving the airport building and going to the car we got our first taste of the hustling. "Bumsters" is the friendly term for these guys.

They are on the make, for your cash, for your business or for you, more about that later :-)  Our luggage guy did well , as  always seems to happen on these occasions in our enthusiasm to give the correct tip we over did it . Good luck to him.
We were collected by the owners of the compound where we are staying for 4 weeks , self catering.
We drove along a two lane Tarmac road, bordered on each side by a wide strip of  burnt sienna dust, such a rich colour it almost looks smart. But nothing is smart, the buildings on the sides of this band of red dust are in various stages of disary or completion . Are they half built or falling down, or is that it?  We arrive at a large cross roads known as the Turntable. Here there is a lot of life going on . Street market vegetable stalls, lots of water melons and bananas. It's a colouful straggle ( is that  a word ? I dont know but that is what it is ) of  humanity . Sleeping babies with their heads lolling ,tied on the backs of colourfully dressed larger than life coal skinned ladies 
the hustle is kind of languid. Not like the clutter and spicey heat of India . Even the bad driving happens and a leisurely speed. Ok, so he is turning into the road right in front of you, ok, he' only going slowly it's cool.

Yes, the atmosphere here is kind of "cool"

their faces are happy and smiling.
As we turn off the Tarmac road to arrive at our destination there is no more Tarmac, it is a 25 meter wide red dust track . As we turn right off that it narrows a bit and becomes a bit more bumpy , grey breeze block walls each side of the track, 7 or 8 foot high, turn left, narrower again , some walls are still grey breeze block some are smarter, plastered and painted white , high metal entrance gates. These walls and gates define the residential "compounds"
We have been here for four days now and I am trying to think how to describe the area of compounds where we are staying.

It is an area under development there are large houses being built behind the compound walls. Some single compounds are the home of a large extended family group. Small huts assembled together very basic. The women keep the area clean and tidy.they have very little to get untidy. As we walk past to the local market we are followed by dozens of children."Minty,minty" they call to us and their huge eyes look deep into you. Fortunately I have Smints with me
so they each get one and suddenly the number of children doubles . They all want to shake hands and ask "ow are you?"
Other compounds like ours are developed . We have security 24/7. But I have to say I feel quite safe here. We have Franco with us and he talks to them first which takes them aback, he is already almost fluent in Mandinka the local language.