International chef Jonathan Groves chats about his career and working in The Gambia

Have you ever cooked for 900 people for a wedding and have 1,500 turn up! No, unsurprisingly, me neither. Jonathan Groves, the superb chef at Ngala Lodge has. Last month, while staying at this beautiful boutique hotel in The Gambia, West Africa, I was lucky enough to interview him and find out more about his career, which has taken him to many different countries around the world, and about the pros and cons of working in Africa.

Kathryn:  Have you always wanted to be a chef from a young age?

Jonathan: When I was 16, between ‘O’ and ‘A’ levels, I worked 6 weeks in a hotel and then they asked me back every holiday. Then one day, while I was studying ‘A’ levels to go and do hotel management, the executive chef called me into his office “So you’re going to do hotel management are you?” “Yes?” “ Look at that idiot over there in the pin-striped suit…. I can see you have a lot of talent as a chef. Think about it?” So I did but I’d never thought of it as a career before.

Having trained at Westminster college, while working five days a week at Charing Cross Hotel, London  (where there are over 50 chefs and the kitchen is 1½ km long) Jonathan got his first job abroad in the early 80s.

Jonathan:  I had just bought a house and the mortgage rate went up from 4% to 14%. I was getting further and further into debt so I said to the wife “What shall we do? We’re going to have to do something?” I managed to get a job in Libya through an agency for one year. 18 of us went out to open two hotels and a restaurant, only two of us stayed  the year. I knew I had to stay as agents wouldn’t touch you again if you hadn’t completed the first placement.

Jonathan then worked at the Barbican in London where he did after-show dinners for the likes of Princess Margaret, but after a couple of years he got itchy feet and applied for a job in Jordan, working there for the next three years.

Kathryn: What type of food did you cook?

Jonathan: European and international food. We did a lot of banquets , weddings and so on. Usually with Arabic starters and the main something European.

Kathryn: So you had the opportunity to pick up influences from Jordan and presumably Libya before that?

Jonathan:  Not so much Libya. It was very new to the tourist market then. The hotels were actually opened for an African conference that never actually happened. Jordan was nice. The tradition is to get married after Ramadan so for 3 months after Ramadan you have wedding after wedding every single night with bookings for maybe 800 or 900 guests invited but then more would turn up and it’s an insult to turn anybody away. The poor bride and groom’s family would invite 900 guests and  1,500 people turn up. They can’t say no, but you get the hang of it.

Kathryn: It must have been quite a shock the first time though.

Jonathan: It was, although obviously I was working with other people. I was just a sous chef, a number 2 chef.

After that I spent a year in Paris, that was a good influence.

Kathryn: When did you first come to The Gambia?

Jonathan: In the mid 80s to the Atlantic Hotel. That was through an agent. A hotel would say they are looking for a chef and the agents would look for chefs with suitable experience and put 3 or 4 forward.  It was my first senior chefs job, just coming up to thirty. Stayed there for 3 years. Quite an eye opener. It was a big, big challenge. In London and Paris you can pick up the phone and get everything straight away. The problem here, and even more so now, is availability, especially with fish. The sea is so over fished by big trawlers, most of the produce is going abroad. Prices are going up, crazy prices. Even between this season and last season the prices have gone up 1 and ½ times.

Kathryn: It must be hard for the locals.

Jonathan: Very hard for the locals. In September to the beginning of November you couldn’t get fish, at all. Lobsters  are hard to get . Same with tiger prawns, I got some just over a week ago but since then I’ve not been able to get any.

Tanji fishing village

Kathryn: The locals were telling me just this morning, at Tanji fish market, that they are having to go out further and further to fish and presumably that is only going to get worse and they depend on it for their livelihood.

Jonathan: Yes, even the local bongo fish is getting quite scarce now.

Jonathan then went back to France followed by 6 years at a casino in Knightsbridge.

Kathryn: What was it like working there?

Jonathan: Very good. They had a totally revamped kitchen, most equipped kitchen I ever worked in. The guests didn’t pay in the restaurant, they paid downstairs on the tables. You had to be invited to the restaurant, the big players, very exclusive. Casino is big business. I was working with a Lebanese and some French chefs. The kitchen was small but produced top of the range quality food. You had to be really good chef. Everything was made to order. A lot of things were off the menu. Quite exciting.

In 1995 Jonathan was head-hunted by the general manager from Senegambia Hotel  in The Gambia and he worked there for the next 6 years. Jobs in Abu Dhabi and Dublin followed but then the stress became too much. He felt burnt out and gave up catering and sold motorbikes. After 4 years he started to miss the hype and excitement of being a chef.

Kathryn: What about the heat in The Gambia, it’s hot enough here anyway, let alone in the kitchen?

Jonathan:  You get used to it! Problem here is the non-availability of items and equipment. The power surges damages the fridges and freezers and so on. They breakdown and you can’t say to people “You can’t have dinner tonight.” You have to get it out somehow but at the end of the day, when you have a good night, it is a buzz! You don’t do it for the money but for the buzz and excitement. For me, if it’s someone I care about, say if it’s their birthday, I’d rather spend a day shopping and a day cooking and invite their friends then go and buy a present. When you see the pleasure on their face and their enjoyment, it is a buzz, it’s like a drug.

Kathryn: The food here is wonderful and so beautifully presented.

Jonathan: I don’t go for over complicated, I try to keep it simple. If you’ve got something beautiful, like the fish you have here, you don’t want to spoil it with an over complicated sauces.

Kathryn: How many do you have working in the kitchen here at Ngala Lodge.

Jonathan: 10 cooks, you have to find people’s strong points. You have to find what actually motivates them. It’s quite hard sometimes. Then again, a guy who used to work with me at Coconut Residence I got to work down here. I wanted a sous chef but no one wanted to take responsibility. I always thought he was a bit laid back, a bit casual and then in August I said “I’m going on leave, you’ve got the chance to prove yourself now. You’ve got 6 weeks to prove yourself.” And he really stepped up. I was in Australia and we had email contact. He asked me this and he asked me that. We were quite  busy and he really came through.

There was another guy, a cleaner in Senegambia. He came to me one day and asked if he could have a chance. “Yeh, Ok. It’s hard. I’ll push you. It won’t be easy. I’ll really push you.”

So he came to work in the kitchen. He was very quiet. He came to work early in the morning and left late at night. He never complained about the hours. Never asked about more money or whatever. After I left Senegambia I heard he was promoted up to number three chef. Then the hotel laid him off for the rainy season. The chef from the Sheraton asked him to come over and help for busy functions and he ended up being their number three chef. The number two chef left and went to work in Dubai. The number one chef , who was Algerian, went back to Algeria for three months. So he ended up running the kitchen on his own. I heard he’s doing really well. For me that’s a great sense of achievement. That he’s actually done something. It’s the same with the sous chef at the Atlantic. He took over from me in 91 and he’s the chef there now. He normally goes to the States for the rainy season and does the high season back here. There’s a few guys around that really have it.

Kathryn: Although you’ve worked in many different places you keep returning to The Gambia.

Jonathan: I fell in love with The Gambia when I first came here. I bought a piece of land in ‘91 and did something I’ve always wanted to do. I designed and built my own house. No architect involved. It’s pretty different. I had it open, the year before last, for a year as a restaurant. The theme was you come to my house to eat. You don’t come to a restaurant. And at the centre of the house is the kitchen. Literally right in the centre. I wasn’t going for the tourist market, I was going for the local market here. Only word of mouth. No walk ins, only bookings. It really took off but then we went into the rainy season. The rains were pretty bad. I got a job in Sweden for 12 weeks. My son lives in Norway so it was a good chance to pop over and see him. I was supposed to go for 12 weeks but stayed for 4 ½ months. When I came back I had  big problems with the roof. In the meantime, I asked around and Peter asked me to come and work here. So I agreed to work here for 4 months until the last flight back to Sweden for the summer. So here I am.

If you are interested in cuisine in The Gambia there will be more posts on this coming soon including the wonderful day I spent learning to cook the traditional Wolof dish, fish benechin, and a review of a great new Gambian cook book where I’ll be selecting and sharing my favourite recipe with you.

 

 

Birthday donations!

In November 2010 Christine Nield, a retired head teacher from Basingstoke, and her husband visited The Gambia for the first time. Since returning they had been looking for a way to help our School Development fund.

Christine in The Gambia

 

In April this year Christine celebrated her 60th birthday and in lieu of gifts she generously asked for donations to the fund. She raised a total of £170.


 

Here at The Gambia Experience we’d like to say a very big thank you to Christine and wish her a belated “Happy Birthday”.

 

Making a difference

Gambia Experience Staff raising money to help school

Kevin, IT Manager at The Gambia Experience, and his wife Rachel, recently returned from a holiday in The Gambia. While there they visited a couple of schools and although they were shocked by lack of resources they were greatly impressed by the teachers and pupils, in particular at Kitty Upper Basic School.

Gambia Experience staff are holding a ‘Back to school’ fund-raising day on Friday 20th May.  The school has recently built an urgently needed new classroom but does not have enough money to finish it and has applied to our School Development Fund for assistance. We hope to raise enough money to finish the roof of the new classroom before the rainy season in June. If you would like to make a donation to this or similar projects you can do so through our School Development Fund website.

Kitty Upper Basic School does not have enough money to complete the roof of the new Home Economics classroom before the rainy season starts next month. Classes are currently held outdoors.

School Partnerships

Below, Kevin’s wife, Rachel (who is a teacher in a comparative school in the UK) explains why she is so determined to make a difference.

You can’t help but be impressed by seeing four classes of students voluntarily in school revising and practicing for their final exams during the Easter holidays.

All listening attentively to their teacher no matter how dull the content of the lesson, all concerned that they must pass their exams as it will ensure them a better future and all looking like they couldn’t wait to get out and enjoy the rest of their holiday, now you don’t get that in the UK.

Students at Kitty studying hard for their forthcoming exams

You also don’t get students facing the reality a Gambian student faces each day; that school costs, your classroom is a brown block bricked room with tables and chairs, a blackboard, a few student drawn posters, a corrugated iron roof and that’s about it. No textbooks, no interactive whiteboard, no laptops, no net books, no DVD’s or video’s, this is education literally at the chalk face. The playground is just a dirt area, with little recognisable as play equipment on it, hopes are held to flatten an outlying piece of land to create a football field. What a stark contrast to the sprung floor gymnasium, swimming pool and sports hall at the sports college where I teach.

The water for the school comes from a well just outside the school’s gates, critical for watering the student’s banana trees – a project which enables each student to produce bananas for sale to raise their school fees or for eating at home, if the 150 dalasi a year isn’t impossible to pay by the family.

So similar when it comes to curriculum; Maths, English, French, Science, Home Economics, all feature highly and yet so different when it comes to the facilities that the schools have to offer.

You can’t also help but be overwhelmed about how little it would cost to make things that bit easier for the students and staff who work in a Gambian school, you’re not talking multi-million pound projects, needing the assistance of the Lottery or Sports England as seems to be the case in the UK, but the funds to complete the new roof of almost constructed Home Economics Room.

It’s made me think…how to help, how to get my students back in the UK to understand the differences between life in England and life in the Gambia, how to inspire them to want to find out more and do more. So much to gain from a real partnership with a school in the Gambia, ours being Kitty Upper Basic school. The link has been established, headteacher met, school briefly visited, now time to introduce the school to the students where I work, who knows what their response will be, I hope one of interest, possibility and a desire to get involved.

Meanwhile any help with the project much appreciated! Rachel Burton

To make a donation or find out more about School Partnerships please visit our School Development Fund website.

UPDATE: Photographs of the ‘Back to School’ day are now on Facebook

Buy malaria medication online & raise money for Gambian schools at the same time!

Next time you are travelling to The Gambia you may wish to consider buying your medication onine from Lloyds Pharmacy.

They can either deliver them to your pharmacy on the same day or direct to your home the very next day. Simply follow the link from our website gambia.co.uk and for every purchase made 8% will be donated to The School Development Fund.


The School Development Fund recently donated £1,390 to cover the costs of the materials to build a library at Jeddah Lower Basic School. The local community will provide transportation costs and labour.

Climbing Kilimanjaro to build a school in The Gambia

In August 2010 Hannah Braye climbed Mount Kilimanjaro in memory of her friend Lucy raising over £1,000. This will go to help build a school in Dairuharu in Brikama and the first classroom being built will be dedicated to Lucy, a former Gambia Experience client.
The following are some highlights from Hannah’s fascinating account of her climb. Her determination is a real inspiration and I’m sure Lucy would be very proud of her. Hannah’s account can be read in full on “Nyodema’s” blogsite.

Alice, Emmanuel and Hannah

Day 1 – Londorossi to Big Tree Camp
So today is the first day of our Kilimanjaro trek. Alice and I met our guide Emmanuel yesterday evening (we are the only two in our walking group). He is 26 years old and has been walking the mountain since he was 17, working his way up from porter to waiter, to cook, to assistant guide and finally guide.

We set off early from the hotel. The jeep ride once we get into the national park is extremely bumpy. I am sat in the back seat; there are only a few inches between the roof and my head, which takes quite a beating. How Alice manages to drop off for a cat nap is beyond me! From the gate where we sign in we can make out Mount Meru’s peak hazy in the distance.

We drive past the local potato farmers who are collecting in their crop and finally alight at the foot of the rain forest in the early afternoon. This is where our adventure begins.

The walk through the rain forest is fairly steep but we take it “Poley Poley” (slowly slowly). At times the pace seems almost ridiculous but Emmanuel tells us it is the best way for us to acclimatize.

Day 2 – Big Tree Camp to Shira 1
The day starts with breakfast of a similar size to last night’s dinner. The porridge is a particular challenge. Tanzanian porridge is brown and very watery the oats have been completely ground up. It tastes of little until large dollops of Tanzanian jam, which is as sweet as opal fruits, are added. The porridge will become a daily challenge for some of us. It takes Alice 3 days to pluck up the courage just to try it. Before we set off the porters of an American group also staying at the camp sing a song about the mountain. It is a song that Emmanuel will sing to us many times as we walk. Some of the lyrics are Akuna Matata (which means no worries in Swahili, as most of you will know from a certain Disney movie about a lion cub). I actually prefer the porter’s song to Elton John’s.

As we head higher the rainforest stops abruptly and turns into alpine forest. The trail is narrow and head high plants grow on either side of us. Now we are out of the forest the sun is hot and trail becomes increasingly steep.

We walk for about 4 hours and as the path gets dustier and steeper I put my camera away in my back pack. Of course a minute later we round the Shira ridge and against the perfect blue sky we catch our first glimpse of Kibo, the Kilimanjaro summit, its white glaciers glinting in the distance.

We are camping at Shira 1 camp on the plateau which is at 3500m. At this altitude even just turning over in your sleeping bag gets you out of breath. This coupled with the 4 ½ litres of water we have drunk during the day and the diamox tablets we are taking to prevent altitude sickness (the main side effects of which are tingling hands and feet and an inexplicable need to wee continuously) makes for a broken nights sleep.

Day 3 – Shira 1 to Shira 2
Today we are doing an easy walk for 3-4 hours across the plateau. It is one of the acclimatisation days built into our route to give us the best chance at reaching the summit. The plants in the moorland are beautiful and Emmanuel laughs at how many photos I stop and take.
The sun is very strong today and Alice and I both start to burn despite using factor 40 sun block. As we near the edge of the plateau we realise why. We are above the clouds! They stretch out below us, soft, white and fluffy, the kind that you just want to roll around in. I remark that it’s like looking out of an aeroplane window. Emmanuel is intrigued to know whether planes have windows and whether you can open them. He says he hopes to fly someday. We discuss some of the places he could go and suggest England, although he seems unsure about the weather. It’s a bit of a reality check given how much we take just getting on a plane and hopping to another country for granted. I really hope he gets to fly one day.

Day 4 – Shira 2 to Barranco Camp
Today is a harder days walking. We are ascending to 4600m before dropping back down to 3850 to camp, as this will help us to acclimatize. As we climb steadily higher the moorland fades out into rocky terrain with large boulders scattered about and not much growing. Alice isn’t feeling well with the altitude at this height and it is a bit of a wake up call that this isn’t just a lovely little walk we are doing.

As we walk Emmanuel teaches us some Swahili. His favourite phrase is ‘poa kachizi coma dizi’, (pronounced porky cheesy camondeesy). This translates as ‘super cool like crazy banana’. We think something maybe lost in the translation! We teach Emmanuel ‘easy peasy lemon squeezy’ in return – something I come to regret on summit night when, whilst I have my head between my legs in an attempt not to pass out, Emmanuel insists the walk is easy peasy lemon squeezy! My favourite Swahili phrase I have learnt so far is ‘la la salama’ which means sleep well, which I certainly did that evening after the exertions of the day.

Day 5 – Barranco to Karanga Camp
One of the strangest effects of the altitude are the crazy dreams that you have. The sleep is much lighter and I find I am having 3 or 4 memorable dreams a night.

The start of today’s walk was not so much of a walk as a climb up the cliff face opposite camp. The fact that there are no photos of this part of the trek is testament to how steep the trail was.

The rest of the walk is up and down, up and down for about 3 hours. We climb to 4200m but descend to 4100m to camp at Karanga, which in Swahili apparently means peanut. It feels like we are camped on the edge of the world.

As we are camping higher than we have before the wind is much stronger. Most of our tents don’t have any pegs and the porters use large rocks to pin them down. During dinner the mess tent takes a real battering and it feels at one point like it might actually be blown off the mountain. A miniature dust storm swirls up around us from the floor and our food becomes all of a sudden crunchy. We each hang on to a corner of the tent with one hand and a pole/plate/table or whatever we can get hold of with the other. It is at this point that Matt decides to break into a rendition of Gloria Gayner’s ‘I Will Survive’ at the top of his voice which sends us all into hysterics and bowls and plates flying.

Day 6 – Karanga to Barafu Camp
Today is only 3 hours walk up to 4600m as we need to rest in the afternoon for the summit attempt tonight, although the trail is quite steep.

Barafu means ice in Swahili, which is extremely fitting. There aren’t many redeeming features to Barafu. The wind is biting cold and so noisy. The terrain is like being on the moon, thick dust swirls into the air and is constantly in your eyes and throat. Even the ravens don’t inhabit Barafu. The wind is so strong our toilet tent stands no chance of staying upright and the long drops are positioned right on the edge of an exposed ridge so that the wind howls under the tin roof and a blasting ice draft blows up from underneath you. There is however a beautiful view of the neighbouring mountain. It is also over 5000m but it is a technical climb so not many people attempt it. Its peaks look like the turrets of a castle and it reminds me a little of Tryfan in North Wales.

At our early dinner we stock up on carbohydrates and I think the nerves start to show on everyone as we prepare for summit night. We go to our tents and attempt to sleep but at this altitude and with the wind shaking the tent continuously around us I’m not able to drop off. If I reach the summit I will already have been awake for 24 hours.

We gather in the mess tent at 11pm for tea and biscuits. Alice and I polish off an entire bar of dairy milk in preparation for what lies ahead. One might have thought that I was fairly prepared for the summit. I had fared well so far, not suffering with any symptoms of altitude. I had taken double the dose of diamox to the previous days, as instructed and I was toasty warm, my summit outfit consisting of 2 pairs of thermal leggings, walking trousers, waterproof trousers, 4 layers of thermal tops, a thick fleece, a down jacket, a waterproof jacket, 2 pairs of gloves, a fleece hat and a ski mask. But I’m not sure anything can fully prepare you for summit night!

We start off ‘poley poley’ as ever. The moon is only one night short of full and the path is illuminated in front of us. Emmanuel and Frank don’t use head torches. However we’ve only been walking an hour or so when the queasiness sets in. This can be controlled fairly easily by continuous burping but Frank has to carry Alice’s backpack for her from early on. As we pass 5000m I start to feel light headed. I have a pocket full of sweets which I munch on continuously in an attempt to keep my blood sugar up (apparently it plummets drastically at extreme altitude). The further we go the more the yellow dots start to dance in front of my eyes to the point when I can hardly see the floor below me and with every step I feel as though I could pass out. Emmanuel doesn’t let us rest long, constantly calling “twende twende” (lets go, lets go), as the trail is extremely exposed to the wind and there are few places to shelter. Soon I too have to surrender my back pack to him to. The temperature drops to -15 degrees. The first things I lose feeling in are my hands, then my feet and face. It’s around this time that I start to compose the email in my head…the email explaining to everyone who had sponsored me that I didn’t make it to the top.

It is only down to Emmanuel and Frank and the way they look after us that we manage to struggle on through the next few hours. Frank does up my shoes laces when my hands stop working because of the cold. They give us their walking poles and head torch when mine runs out, rub our hands to get the feeling back, get the water from my back pack (the only bottle that hasn’t frozen solid) and pour it in to our mouths. And all the while Emmanuel sings to us.

Gradually my head starts to clear slightly. I think my brain can only concentrate on either the cold or the lack of oxygen but not both at the same time. We find our rhythm. We’ve been walking for 5 hours at this point but all I have is what feels like a few minutes of conscious memory. Just as I start to fear the mountain may be starting to get the better of me again, Emmanuel announces that we are nearing Stellar Point, where we join the crater rim. From there it is only 45 minutes to an hour to Uhuru Peak, the summit. The timing is perfect to give us hope. I know that if I can make it to Stellar point there’s no way I won’t make it to the summit, I’ll have come too far. However, Emmanuel may have been a little premature in his announcement as it feels another age before I look up from the floor to realise we are on the rim and Emmanuel is gathering us together for a group hug. It’s 5am.

Up on the summit the temperature falls further to -20 degrees. It’s so cold that the boiled sweets I’m sucking won’t melt in my mouth anymore and I have to spit them out. As we follow the edge of the crater round there are dark shapes appearing all around us and icicles grow vertically up from the floor.

Unlike the last 5 hours the last hour passes in a heartbeat as I anticipate the exhilaration of reaching the top. And all of a sudden we are there!

With the light comes a feeling of great joy and achievement and another round of hugs. It also illuminates the precarious nature of our journey around the crater rim at times!

I feel like I could stay on the top of the mountain forever. But it is still well below freezing and we have to keep moving. We begin the long descent down. If I didn’t know that only an hour or so earlier I had walked up the same path I never would have guessed. The mountain is thick dust that your feet sink down into. All I have the energy to feel is relief that I made it. The sun becomes increasingly hot and slowly the feeling returns to my extremities in a flash of pins and needles, all except the fingers of my right hand, which stubbornly remain numb for the next week!

So now the adventure is over and I reflect on it all. We’ve been through a lot, wind, rain, glaring heat and dust storms. There have been tears (me secretly at the top), singing and a lot of laughter. We are filthy, bedraggled and greasy. There have been the inevitable toilet issues along with nosebleeds, black toenails, sunburn and an awful lot of snot. It is impossible to hang on to much dignity when walking Kilimanjaro. But as Alex so rightly put it at our last meal together, you regain it all and more when you reach to the top.