It was an early start this morning and after arrival at Banjul port, we boarded the boat that was to take us on a 2 hour journey to Fort James Island,recently renamed Kunta Kinteh Island. The journey itself was a slow cruise on a double decker very old fashioned boat. The smell of diesel couldn't be escaped - but the atmosphere was very nice nevertheless. The crew made tuna sandwiches to start with, and mixed this with a distinctly flavoursome topping of onions, garlic and tomato, all diced. We were entertained by our guide for about half of the journey, then given some free roam around the boat.

When we arrived, it was seriously scorching. The village of Albreda and Juffureh was very remote, and resembled a true African village with a mixture of shanty shacks, some cement and some totally natural (leaves) built housing. The orange dirt, provided a definite taste of Africa, covering us with a dusting wherever we went! We were welcomed in a shady area by a tribe musician, who played an instrument which resembled a guitar, but was also used as a drum. In native African dress, the musician man was interesting to watch. 

 We walked along the island towards the 'house' that Kunta Kinteh had lived in - to meet his descendants! At the Kinteh's we were given a brief history about what he was like, and how he was captured. It was disgusting to imagine how white men could disturb this peaceful, friendly village.

Next, it was off to meet the Tribe Chief - she was a woman! The guide told us that they estimate she was somewhere between 95 and 100 years old, but that it was impossible to tell for sure because during the time of her birth, Africa had not established dates and years, but rather attributed births to natural events such as, when a particular tree fell down, or when a significant historical event took place. They can however, use the age of her children and grandchildren to make an educated guess with regard to how old she was! She prayed for us and thanked us for our long travels and wished us all a safe journey back. This was so surreal. 

We walked past several groups of children, who lined the path in groups, chanting and singing 'welcome, welcome' as they beat empty plastic containers with sticks to show us a drumming display. Then, it was time to board the boat for the small island where slaves were kept prior to their trip to America. 

 

It was heart-wrenching looking at the remains of the fort that had once stood to contain captured natives in small dungeons, whilst providing luxurious space and comfort for captains and the like. We had an opportunity to observe a very small dungeon where anywhere between 20-40 slaves would be kept and fed through a small hole in the wall, with iron bars across it. The guides were not expecting us to feel bad, and did not deliver their information in a manner that would put white people at unease - they were very matter of fact about the information that was told to us, but it was impossible not to feel awful in some parts.

 

We boarded the small dugout boat back to our double-decker, and relaxed in the sun and shade with some Bob Marley playing for the journey back. 

We went for a burger at Hot Rock for dinner, but our friends were not around, except for the chef. We bought him a drink and sat with him for a good hour or so as he explained a little about his life and we offered him some stories from ours. He had gone to primary school, secondary, and even catering college! His burgers were really lovely, genuinely one of the best we have ever had, so clearly catering college was worth it. We told him we would come back to him for our last day on Wednesday. Overall, it was a lovely day, albeit it a very tiring one!