Twenty twenty four felt like a car careening around a bend with two wheels in the air. That’s how I started last year’s post. Nothing’s changed! Maybe the car is on fire now? It was another year of bricolage except now we’ve lost the ripcord of taking a one way flight to the states. Trump and his chief ghoul Stephen Miller have decided that Malians can no longer immigrate to America, nor can they apply for any kind of visa.

To be completely honest, I would very much like for this to be a non-political life update (not because I am worried about offending people but because I am worried about adding an extra 3,000 words to this) but it’s just impossible. The wreckage is everywhere.

Bintou and I are dealing with a situation that may not actually be that unique given the global rightward, authoritarian lurch, but basically both of our countries of origin are moving towards autocracy. Mali is fully there already, with the dissolution of political parties, banning of foreign media and the arrest of journalists, activists and politicians that don’t tow the government line.

What is perhaps unique about our situation is that in addition to embracing authoritarianism, the governments of our respective countries of origin are also feuding with each other. (Actually, maybe not that unique either). After the US announced that Malians could no longer immigrate or study or visit, Mali released a communiqué of their own. Now, Americans can’t get visas to Mali either.

Somewhat related side note: Do you know that we haven’t been able to send any mail to the United States — from anywhere in West Africa — for about 6 months??? Not even a postcard!!! And it looks like it’s going to just… stay that way?

So here we are, on the Petite-Cote of Senegal.

The 2023 move to Senegal felt wrong for so many reasons. Life was good in Bamako. We had Bintou’s family. So many friends. The kids had plenty of friends, too. Liza had her playgroup and Andre was happy in school. But each month our business was making a bit less money while the security situation throughout the country was deteriorating. A few months after we moved, the electricity cuts started. Things have only gotten worse in the time since.

You’d think you would be able to find solace in a well-timed decision. It doesn’t really work like that. I have an achy nostalgia for Bamako that I cannot shake. But like last year’s post, I can only end this intro on a note of enthusiastic gratitude. We are lucky to be in Senegal, all together and in good health (yes, I am touching wood), in a beautiful place next to the ocean.

How did things pan out from my hopes and dreams list from last year?

Let’s take a look.

1. Get Jason Kottke to notice and mention Postcards from Timbuktu on his blog – This did not happen. But I am not giving up. Apparently, it is going to be a multi-year effort. You can read the first entry in last year’s post to see why this is important to me. Somewhat related side note about the previous side note above: I have a large batch of postcards from Timbuktu that I was forced to send with DHL in order to get them to the states. That pile of postcards has been under scrutiny from US Customs for nearly two weeks now. WTF

2. Send at least 100 postcards (friends, family and postcrossing) – I ended up sending a lot more than that and all I can say is that I really had no business spending that much on postage (and postcards). My pace slowed considerably during the second half of the year as I became increasingly conscious of that fact. In case you missed it, I am a postcard person now.

3. Learn how to surf (or at least witness my son learn to surf) – did I write this with a built in cop-out knowing that I would not actually pursue surfing? It’s possible. But my son is well on his way!

4. See at least 36 new bird species, including an Abysinnian Ground Hornbill – YES! on both counts. The Abysinnian Ground Hornbill was also the most dramatic bird encounter I have ever had. We were a few days into our carnival trip, somewhere between Baila and Bignona, on a forested stretch of road. He came gliding out of the trees to my right, flying over the road like a small majestic airplane. The dramatic entrance combined with the realization of what I was seeing nearly caused me to crash the bike. I braked as quickly as safely possible (it was a little unsafe) and scrambled over to the opposite side of the road to confirm it was not a hallucination. He landed quite a distance a way (it is a he as you can see by the red on the throat), but the zoom on my google pixel 7 was able to get a bit of his head before he flew off again. Lya and Abbey, clients who are now friends, were confused to find me off the bike and dancing around the road. They were even more confused when I breathlessly tried to explain that I SAW AN ABYSINNIAN GROUND HORNBILL.

Here is a much better photo of a male Abysinnian ground hornbill taken by a Mr. Charles J. Sharp. It is quite the bird!

5. Make a longform video I am proud of – Nope. Total failure. I did make some shorter videos, though. Here is one. Anyway, it is still longer than most vertical swipey shit.

6. Go camping with Andre – Technically, yes. Although we were camping at the new Sleeping Camel (more on that in number 12) so it was kind of like camping with training wheels.

7. Take a trip to the states (move to the states?) – We did take a trip to the states. We couldn’t move there even if we wanted to (see beginning of post). The trip was wonderful, though. Incredibly nourishing despite It All. It was great to see family and friends after more than a year and a half away. I will also say that Vermont and upstate New York with Your People in the summertime is a magical formula.

8. Take more family trips in West Africa – We spent a good chunk of the summer in Mali. Along with a few short trips around Senegal, that was it. We have quite a bit of ground to cover when it comes to family trips in the region. But again, going back to the intro of this post, we are lucky to be able to take family trips of any kind. Much of this past year was about keeping our heads above water.

9. Finish updating the Bradt Guide to Senegal – YES YES Alhamdulillah!!! YES!!!! I’ve already posted about it, but this was a big lift. If I’m being completely honest, I did not know what I was getting myself into when I took this assignment. Our friend, and the original author of the book, Sean Connolly, got me this gig, and while I may have cursed his name at one or two points along the way, I remain deeply grateful for this project. It was quite possibly the least lucrative work I have ever done, but it paid in many other ways. Also, I now have a new appreciation for guide-book writing, a craft that requires writing chops as well as a methodical approach to research, exceptional attention to detail, and at least in West Africa, a skillset that in some ways overlaps with that of a murder detective. Sean is one of the best in the game and I strongly suggest checking out some of his books — perhaps his Bradt guide to Mauritania which just came out a couple of months ago? Of course, the Bradt Guide to Senegal is also his book, and I did not need to make very many changes to the already excellent foundational text. Bradt Senegal is now available for purchase in the UK and will be out in February in the US. I just received several advance copies and I do admit, it was cool to hold this thing in my hands.

10. Become conversational in Wolof – I did not. But I did make some small small progress and I remain committed to the goal. One BIG thing that was unlocked for me in this language learning journey is that there are no verb tenses/conjugation in Wolof. The verb ALWAYS stays the same. It is rather the tense of the subject that changes. This was hard for me to wrap my head around. As an example, to say “I eat,” you would say “Damay Lekk.” To say, “I ate,” you would say “Lekk Naa.” “Lekk,” the verb “to eat” does not change. I think this is kind of cool actually. It’s me and you that are changing tenses and not the verb. I remember when I was learning Bambara and I finally reached the point where I could think in the language. That is of course the big breakthrough. I am a ways off from that in Wolof, but I can see it in the distance. Inshallah.

11. Write at least one thing every week on this blog or in some other public place – Yikes. No. Very little writing this year. I mean last year. This year, more writing!

12. Create a base in Senegal – Midway through the year this looked increasingly unlikely. I don’t want to say we manifested it, but yeah, maybe something like that happened. Instead of relying on les agents immobiliers, who were more interested in showing us exorbitantly priced well manicured 3 bedroom houses with shoebox pools, we took the search into our own hands — riding around on the jakarta and looking at empty, and some not so empty properties. We were struck by one house that had a massive garden, an interesting looking u-shaped house, and an excellent location. Our friends at the Kalao brewery, which is situated around the corner from the property, put us in touch with the landlord. But it turned out that the house had a tenant. Damn. The search cooled over the summer as the rainy season settled in and we took off for Mali.

Later, while we were in the states, I got a message from Rapha at Kalao. He was convinced that the house was going to be vacated. I got back in touch with the landlord and sure enough, the house was available from the end of September. Once back in Senegal, I had a series of meetings/negotiations with the landlord and we eventually settled on a price. After one of these meetings, I ran into a camel (and an ambitious dog) around the corner from the new place. This was auspicious to say the least.

So here we are, with another rent payment to make each month, appliances to buy, renovations, paperwork and licenses to obtain, etc. etc. Are we insane? Possibly. But if there is one thing we know how to do — besides running tours — it’s building a home for a traveler-oriented community. For circumstances beyond our control, we can no longer do that in Mali. Here, in Senegal, there is a tremendous lack of these kinds of spaces.

We’ve also been running these tours in Senegal since 2017 with no base of operations, no office, no physical address. We have a website and 15 jakartas, which are parked at our mechanic’s house 180 km away. We’ve done well with this set up, all things considered, and there are advantages to a minimalist operation. But we want to get back to offline client recruitment, and we need a physical location for our Senegalese paperwork.

Wish us luck. And come visit.

This photo was from one of my early visits to the property. It does look a bit more kempt after a few weeks of TLC and Moustapha’s green thumb.

Matt looking contemplative while brewing a pot of coffee on the fire. It’s been wonderful to watch the space come to life.

We have 4.5 rooms that are ready to go, with a few more on the way. We also have lots of tents. And hammocks.

So yes, please come visit.

We do have a little website now. And an instagram (yes, another one. Ugh.). And a substack (!!!!!). But in general, we hope to be spending a lot less time online in 2026.

See you in Senegal