Dakar, Senegal
A pre dawn arrival and just a few of us get off the plane here, the rest going on to South Africa. A rush of warm, humid air with the combined scents of grass and diesel... a search for an ATM then ride into the town center in a dusty, old cab manned by an impossibly tall, lean man.
Only cabs and buses are on the roads, with mini buses so packed that door are left open and people spill off the sides and out the back. People in long flowing robes .. hand carts filled with all types of goods are pushed along the side of the road. Children carried in their mothers backs in a piece of cloth.
We make our way from faster moving highways to twisting, tiny back roads filled with pedestrians and potholes. Shacks made from boards with rusted metal tops offer haircuts, cell phone cards, nuts and bagged juices. People are lit up only by the headlights of the passing cars.
We finally make our way to the hotel and I check in just as the power goes out and roosters start to crow.
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