I have decided to stay in Dakar for a month, one more month exactly, then to move to The Village for another month and then to leave Senegal completely and continue south. The rainy season has just started and for the first time in a long time I make a plan, list the things I want to do while I have the opportunity.
Dance.
Cook.
Visit Gorée and St Louis.
Enjoy my routine, my regular places and my regular people.

I want to construct a carriage for my bicycle where all my stuff will fit, because the next time I leave it will be for good, for long and on my bicycle. And Senegal is the land of hand-welded horse carriages and coffee stands; I am sure I can find a welder to make me a simple carriage frame if I design one.

Bikepacking in Senegal and the Gambia for almost a month has convinced me that both me and my small bike are up for going further together, and I have decided to change my way of travel from backpacking to bikepacking. A month should give me enough time to prepare for the change.

…

Flour, baking powder. Yeast? My god the dough rises quickly in this heat, can I bake the bread in the frying pan with the lid on? If it works in the sand under a campfire, then why not… A little bit of cinnamon for the pancake batter… Do we still have sugar?

Should I make the carriage-bags bright red or dull green? Camouflage off-road, or good visibility in traffic?

Brown beans, soak overnight for bean stew, tomato paste, fresh bell peppers and garlic, the cheap rice, the one with the small grains. It’s OK if I make too much, later I can fry the leftovers with some cabbage and onions, add an egg if I feel like it, maybe the cumin from the Moroccan shop…

…

And so I turn my life into squares, center my steps around dance classes and social dances, bus timetables and cultural events. I still walk an hour to dance class with my audiobooks and the weekends are for salsa, kizomba and karaoke. I fill the gaps in my schedule by researching and sketching up the carriage model, biking around to look for a welder who will give me the best price and searching for the material for the carriage-bag. I research visas and the duration of the rainy season. When the sun starts to set and the air gets cooler I go up to the rooftop and paint the frame of the carriage, cut and measure the material for the bags, glue them together. I sit and think, sketch up designs in my head until it’s dark and the mosquitoes drive me inside.

…

The bread is old but it will be perfect if I fry it in a little bit of oil. Should I make the avocado-mush again? Sweet with lemon, or salty with garlic? Oh but the bananas look good this morning, with a spoonful of peanut butter and honey, some sprinkled cinnamon, just don’t make too much so I can get hungry for lunch… Remember to buy flour again… Black tea or Café Touba?

The guy has already sent me a photo of the finished carriage-frame, so fast, I need to pick it up, make sure it fits with the wheel. There is no joint but if I tie it to the carrier with a little bit of distance it should give enough to turn…

An omelet for the landy-lord, I’ll serve it with fresh tomatoes and mayo on the side. Today I feel like runny yellows, black pepper on the fresh veggies. I can boil the yam for dinner, maybe with lentils, just make sure to pick out all the small rocks this time. The left-over yam I can fry tomorrow and eat with honey… Oh and while I go to buy lentils I can get the dried baobab from the guy and make baobab juice, I have time in the afternoon.

…

And the red paint and the chain oil come off from my hands in the soapy dishwater along with the cooking oil and dough. I scrub the one good knife, the spoons and my favorite cup, dry off the counter and place a clean towel underneath. I put on all the lids, make space in the fridge, take care not to step on the line of ants on the floor; it’s their kitchen, too, and they are cleaning away the breadcrumbs I leave. I hang the towel in its place, make sure the gas valve is closed and leave the window just a little open to let the sunshine in.

…

(This story told in pictures.)