In November I feel like going away for a week. So I write a letter to
the Gambia. It is two weeks before the planned departure. Again it is
intermediate season so prices are low. I can wait till last-minute
booking. No reply and for one week I am afraid to take risks. I orientate
in possibilities to leave for Christmas and the New Year. Everything
seems to be fully booked, only one possibility is left: 10 days
the Gambia. I cannot refuse and book immediately. Again I write a
letter explaining that I will arrive.
It remains silent.
No 'bang' on my doormat.
Meanwhile I have collected a supply of knitting pins and
crochet-needles and a large sack of small balls of wool and cotton.
Date of departure approaches. One day before departure I decide to
call the brother who has a telephone connection. What can I bring
along as presents? Cheese, licorice, strong rolling tobacco and
herring.
And thus on December 24th 1996 at 3 o'clock in the middle of the night
I stand before the check-in counter of Air Holland and hand over a
backpack fully loaded with embroidery-stuff, knitting pins and Dutch
products packed between mosquito-net, sleeping bag liner and flashlight.