Each journey seems to be an event; whether it's clinging onto the boat
taxis to and from the island (our chosen accommodation was the Isle de N'gor surf camp), jumping into one
of the many yellow
cabs (available in the
full range
of condition: from «brand new and sparkling to «probably should be in a landfill site») or squeezing far too many hot, sweaty people and battered surfboards into the camp's hot, battered van.