So, I finally got around to checking out the Dakar Corniche. Everyone talks about it, you see the pictures, looks all nice and breezy, right? Well, let me tell you, it’s not just one thing, it’s like a whole bunch of different things all mashed together.
You’ve got your fancy parts with the big hotels and the folks jogging with their expensive gear. Then you’ve got stretches where it’s all fishermen, kids playing football right on the sand, and people just chilling, selling stuff. It’s a lot. You can’t just say “the Corniche is like this,” because it changes every few hundred meters.
My little adventure there
I figured, why do I have this jumbled idea of it? Well, it’s because I tried to have, you know, a specific kind of experience there. I thought I’d go for a nice, quiet late afternoon walk. Just me, the ocean breeze, watch the sunset. Simple plan. I even packed a little snack, a bottle of water. Prepared, I was.
I started walking. First thing, a bunch of guys on horses galloped past, pretty close. Okay, cool, but a bit startling. Then I tried to find a bench. Most were taken, or kinda falling apart. Found a spot on a low wall. Perfect. Sat down. Opened my water. Then this kid comes, selling tissues. Polite “no thanks.” Then another with phone credit. Then a guy trying to get me to take a photo with his parrot for a small fee. A very persistent parrot, I might add.
I moved on, thinking, “Okay, maybe further down it’s quieter.” The further I walked, the more… lively it got. Music blaring from cars parked along the side, groups of people having full-on picnics, vendors weaving through everyone. It was an absolute hive of activity. Not exactly the tranquil walk I’d pictured. My “quiet” walk turned into me navigating a crowd, constantly sidestepping and saying “excuse me.”
I remember trying to just stand still for five minutes to look at the ocean. In those five minutes:
- Someone tried to sell me a hat.
- A football nearly hit me.
- I got asked for money three times.
I wasn’t annoyed, not really. It was just… a lot more intense than I bargained for. I eventually just gave up on the “peaceful sunset” idea, bought a super sweet bissap juice from a lady, and just watched the chaos. It was its own kind of fascinating, I guess.
And you know, that’s kind of how things go sometimes, isn’t it? You plan for X, and you get Y, Z, and a whole alphabet soup you didn’t order. It sort of reminded me of when I tried to learn how to make thieboudienne from that YouTube video. Looked so easy! The chef was all calm, adding ingredients. Me? I ended up with a smoky kitchen, rice that was somehow both burnt and undercooked, and fish that stuck to the pan like glue. The video was the “postcard Corniche,” my kitchen was the “actual Corniche experience.”
So yeah, the Dakar Corniche. It’s beautiful, for sure. But it’s also loud, and busy, and a bit overwhelming, and totally unpredictable. You don’t just go see it. You kind of have to dive in and let it happen to you. And bring good walking shoes. And maybe some patience. Lots of patience.
