Getaway at the Sine Saloum Delta

There is one place in Senegal which is wild, watery, and magical in ways that I hadn't experienced before: the Sine Saloum biosphere.

When I knew I would be visiting Senegal, I looked up the profile of the country and the first thing that'd lept out at me was the Sine Saloum biosphere, a delta covering a vast expanse of waterways and mangroves and unique biodiversity. However, at the time, I wasn't sure if it was possible to visit it: it just seemed like such a wild place, and I imagined days of trekking in mosquito-infested bogs to be able to explore it. In reality, the Delta covers multiple villages and is quite diverse: where it opens into the Atlantic, you can spot dolphins if you're lucky; further inland, you can spot varied birds. When we found out that we could in fact visit the fabled biosphere, and even pick where we'd experience it from, I felt like my birthday had come early. When we set off on our roadtrip from Dakar, we decided to include the biosphere on our route, and it ended up being one of the most magical places I've been to.

Our time tucked away in Saly was idyllic, peaceful, lovely. Hours blended into each other, talking, reading, long walks on the beach, and often just sitting and watching people play football, run with their dogs, bring in afternoon catches...The Atlantic isn't really a turquoise water and sparkling white sand destination; the washed out, Turner-like quality of the gray-blue sky and muscovado-coloured beach made it all seem like a lovely dream.

We seriously discussed skipping Sine Saloum altogether and staying one more day in our little Saly hideaway. But curiosity got the better of us and we set off on the road, stopping occasionally to look at the ocean or interesting things...

^ A quick ocean-side pit stop revealed yet another mound of debris, and that cut our appetite for stopping at village beaches. But after a while we branched further inland anyway.

...Like this mural that Fraser spotted, it was dolphinately worth a stop:

...And this one, made of tiny clay fish, which I thought was brilliant. Stood next to it for scale*:

(*Fraser exhibited saintly patience and endured my sense of humour.)

...And bucolic scenes like this when we were moo-ving past:

It was all so beautiful that it primed us for our delta getaway. On the road, we had to make a decision: head to the mouth of the Delta, or go inland? Ultimately, we decided to go inland, and arrived at our lodgings, which Fraser had chosen as a treat: the Souimanga Lodge.

We parked beneath a cashew tree and arrived at a most beautiful scene. The lodge was spread in multiple buildings and the reception/restaurant area was canopied by a blooming flamboyant flower.

^ Apologies for the terrible photography as usual, but this is what a cashew looks like!

How gorgeous is this setting?

An infinity pool overlooks the slightly brackish water of the delta and birds swooped in gracefully to cool off from the heat or drink from the pool.

Our digs consisted of a secluded, stylishly organised wooden hut.

Fraser had jumped into the pool the moment I had my back turned, and I joined him and we laughed and talked and laughed some more when the waitress came to take our orders for dinner, and expressed visible relief when I said I'm vegetarian not vegan and complained about how some people are so complicated to cook for.

Hanging in the infinity pool overlooking the marshy labyrinth, I marvelled at how unfamiliar this ecosystem felt, yet so beautiful. Feeling so grateful for this experience.

We walked down the pontoon and tried and failed to kayak: the water was just too low, ankle depth in some places. We instead watched the sun go down on this watery maze.

Dinner was lovely. Fraser and I sat at a candlelit table next to flowery creepers, everything was completely peaceful and quiet and we felt remote from our daily lives, just enjoying being in this strange place and in each other's company. I had braced myself for yet more chips or nondescript pasta but the chef sent some pretty amazing goat's cheese and other vegetarian things.

We chatted away and chilled, and thousands and thousands of stars began to appear in the inky blue sky. It was completely magical, although the day of driving and the humidity and tiredness meant we were too sleepy to stay up star-gazing for too long.

As you know, I love sunrises more than sunsets. Sunrises are full of promise for another day of wonders and surprises...I must admit Fraser wasn't as excited when I shook him awake at 5am to see the sunrise over the delta.

Birds were waking up, making a racket in the mangroves. We heard a splash and a strange sound and saw something swim towards the mangroves. I insisted it was an otter... Fraser (probs correctly) suggested it was a water monitor (shudder).

I had the most extensive, epic breakfast afterwards, and we saw a hornbill and various other birds and stopped on the deck for a bit to work and read from this amazing location.