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If you’ve reached my site because you are searching for sex tourism in the Gambia (and my site statistics tell me that a fair number of you are), I’m afraid you have come to the wrong place. Sex tourism is a complex subject and the following represents my views, but I urge you to consider them in the hope that the lives of many, yourself included, can be improved by more thoughtful consideration of this issue.The Gambia is a small slither of land than carves up the greater mass of land that is Senegal in West Africa and to look at the tourist brochures you’d think it held little more than the innocence of virgin beaches.However, it wasn’t until we sauntered down the Senegambia Strip that it dawned on me that the offer from several Bumsters to experience ‘The Real Gambia’ might well have had illicit undertones.It wasn’t the only warning sign – the night before we had giggled like adolescents at the sight of two fellow female hotel guests flanking a good looking local guy all but dragging him back to their room, his feet barely touched the ground in cartoon fashion as they marched.The first example we saw was an obese German girl who looked like she had escaped prison.She smoothed her hands with greed over the firm body of a black man that was so slight he must have weighed in at a small fraction of the kilograms of his date.The images of eco-lodges promised lazy days idling in a dug-out canoe and temperatures capable of changing my skin from grey to pink appealed.Add to the fact that Africa is on my Travel Wish List for 2013 and I booked without much further thought.
Slowly, she took a seat opposite another example of tragedy – a young Gambian guy ready to spend a night trading Dalasi for his body.
And of the many pairings I observed last night it is hard to conceive any scenario where the men involved would willingly select the abominations that were their highly unmatched pair.