There is a really good bakery just down the street from my apartment, and it would be where I would buy breakfast this morning. I bought three different pastries and enjoyed them throughout the morning. If you’ve ever been to France, you know what I’m talking about when I say the bakeries are irresistible. I made this stop on my way to the train station where I would meet up with a group of the students for the day’s excursion… to Monaco! The train ride from here to Monaco is only 20 minutes, although today’s train was super packed (nothing I wasn’t used to from Dakar). When we arrived, we made our way first to the top of a large hill where the Palais Princier is located. At noon, we witnessed their “changing of the guard” ritual outside the palace, which was really neat, and then at 13h we took a tour of the palace itself. In between, I walked around the area, admiring the amazing view and beautiful architecture, and even stumbling upon the Canadian consulate by accident. The tour of the palace was self-guided, with one of those listening devices that you hold up to your ear and it explains all the history behind what you’re looking at. After the palace tour, we made our way to the Musée Océanographique. This giant building was split up into two sections: one is an aquarium with numerous exotic fish and the other is more of your standard museum. Probably the coolest part of the museum was the exhibit where I got to pet a real live shark! The rest of the afternoon consisted of visiting Monte Carlo. We saw (and even took a peek inside) the famous casino and opera house, as well as a plethora of very nice, very expensive cars. Monaco is actually the second smallest and second most densely populated country in the world with 18,000 people per km2. It also happens to be the richest country in the world (by GDP/capita) at over $150,000 per person. I witnessed both sides of the country during my time there.
My last day in Senegal. I went to church in the morning and on my way home, I had an interesting exchange with the taxi driver. I flagged down the taxi, stated my destination and my price, to which he beckoned me to get in. However, as soon as we started driving, he began to ask for more money. I told him no, we’d already agreed on a price and we argued for a bit before he shut up, accepting my price – I assumed. But when we arrived, I paid him and as I was walking away, he jumped out of the taxi, ran after me, and grabbed onto my bag, pulling me back, and yelling at me in Wolof (demanding more money I guess). This stirred up quite a scene and not too long after, there was a crowd circling around us. One of the bystanders heard out my side of the story and then yelled something at the taxi driver, who responded by letting go of my bag and heading back to his car, realizing he was now outnumbered. A little rattled, I thanked my liberator and made my way up to the apartment. There, I was greeted by an awesome Ivorian meal that Franck had cooked up to celebrate. A combination of the stressful taxi driver situation, my hunger, and having part of my mind on my flight this evening, caused me to forget to take a picture or write down the names of the different parts of the meal. I will do my best to describe it though. There was fish, like always, but done in a special fashion, different from the Senegalese way. There was a really nice, tasty red sauce, consisting of a variation of chopped vegetables. And finally, there was the piece of the meal that's the hardest to explain. It was these little, white, cake-type things that were kind of like a rice muffin but they weren't rice... Whatever they were (I will ask Franck for clarification), they were very good with the sauce! After lunch, I took my last Dakarian shower and then finished packing my bags – which turned out to be a small challenge. Hopefully nothing gets bent, broken, or damaged during the flight. My plane was scheduled to take off at 22h40. We arrived at the airport around 20h10, which gave me enough time to check in my luggage and then go back outside to spend some precious last few minutes with Franck. Nobody cried, but it was very emotional nonetheless, saying goodbye to what has been my home for the past seven weeks – and more importantly, saying goodbye to my new, African brother. After promising to stay in contact regularly, I headed back into the airport to make my way through security and board the plane to Nice.
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