The History of Conakry: From Origins to Modern Day (and why you shouldn’t trust anyone)
okay, so like, Conakry. seriously, it’s… a thing. i’ve been here three weeks, fueled by lukewarm bissap and the creeping suspicion that i’m slowly losing my mind. it’s not a bad thing, exactly. just… intense. i’m writing this after a particularly long day dodging motorbikes and trying to decipher the local dialect - it’s like a beautiful, chaotic mess of French, Wolof, and pure, unadulterated shouting.
let’s start at the beginning, shall we? basically, before Conakry was Conakry, there was just… the coast. like, seriously, a bunch of fishing villages. the Portuguese showed up in the 15th century, claimed it, called it ‘São João do Príncipe’ - pretty standard colonial stuff. then the French rolled in, decided they liked the spot, renamed it ‘Conakry’ (from ‘con’, meaning ‘cape’ in Portuguese, and ‘kary’ meaning ‘river’ in Wolof), and basically just… took over. it’s a history lesson you don’t want to learn, honestly.
Okay, so, data. because apparently, i need to be ‘responsible’ or something. According to Numbeo, as of today (November 2nd, 2023), the cost of living in Conakry is roughly 60-70% lower than in New York City. Rent? You can get a decent one-bedroom apartment for around $200-$400 a month. Food’s cheap - like, ridiculously cheap. I’m talking $10-15 a day for a solid meal. But jobs? That’s a different story. Most expats work in the mining sector, or for NGOs. Local opportunities are… patchy. Check out this Reddit thread for some insights: https://www.reddit.com/r/Conakry/. And TripAdvisor says the beaches are decent, but the traffic is a nightmare: https://www.tripadvisor.com/Tourism-g298671-Conakry_Guinean_Empire.html.
*The Peninsula - it’s where most of the action is, you know? All the embassies, the fancy hotels, the places where the expats hang out. It’s… sterile. Like, aggressively so.
The Markets - now these are something. The Grande Marché is insane. Mountains of mangoes, piles of dried fish, guys yelling prices you can’t understand. It’s overwhelming, but also… exhilarating. I overheard a guy telling another guy, “Don’t even think about haggling. Just pay what they ask. Trust no one.” Seriously. That’s the vibe.
The Beaches - yeah, they’re beautiful. Like, turquoise water and white sand. But be careful. I got some drunk advice from a bartender at La Plage - “Don’t swim after dark. There are things in the water. Things you don’t want to meet.” He wasn’t kidding. There’s a definite undercurrent of… unease.
The Royal Palace - it’s mostly ruins now, but it’s still impressive. A reminder of the French colonial past. It’s a bit of a trek to get there, though.
The Bissap Gardens - okay, this was actually amazing. They grow bissap (hibiscus) and make this incredible, slightly tart juice. It’s the only thing that’s consistently good here. Seriously, go. https://www.yelp.com/biz/bissap-gardens-conakry
I spoke to a local named Moussa yesterday. He runs a small stall selling peanuts near the Grande Marché. He said, “Conakry is like a broken record. It keeps spinning, but it never plays the same song twice. You have to learn to dance with the chaos.” He then winked and added, “And always, always, carry a small knife.”
Honestly, the weather is… weird. It’s like a constant, humid drizzle. Feels like you’re perpetually wrapped in a damp towel. But just a short flight away, you’ve got the Bijago islands - totally different vibe, all sunshine and palm trees. It’s a crazy contrast.
I’m starting to think Conakry is less a city and more a prolonged, slightly unsettling experiment. I’m not sure what I’m learning here, but I’m definitely learning something*.
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