
We have been in-country for about 5 full weeks now and where else is there to spend a first break other than the beach? In close proximity to Abidjan (30-45 minutes depending on the day and the amount of corrupt police officers on the road), Grand Bassam, one of Africa’s most beautiful beaches (according to some tourist website), hosts the grand waves of the Atlantic Ocean. Within minutes of arriving on the coast, I felt a sense of nostalgia as I tasted the sea salt that drifted in the air. I remembered the days of living on the not-so-beautiful New Jersey shore at five years old, holding my grandfather’s hand as I walked on the hot sand to the dirty, jellyfish-infested waters. I remembered all of those summer vacations at Virginia Beach, a place that gave me more anxiety than relief. What can I say? Every time I saw one of my siblings get swallowed up in a wave, I thought they would be gone forever. It was out of my control and I didn’t like that one bit. So, yes, back to beautiful, relaxing, memory-evoking Grand Bassam. It was the perfect vacation spot.
The beach house we happened to score wasn’t anywhere close to the water but had a pool. Gotta love when Airbnb assumes that you’re fit and can walk 10 minutes to the beach. I would say that it was realistically a 45 minute walk if you were lucky and not dying of heat exhaustion. We still got the remaining breeze from the coast so I can’t say that it was too shabby. It sat in a neighborhood much by itself and right off of the highway to the airport. If you know me, it takes a minute to relax and enjoy. So you can imagine how being so close to the airport gave me the quick twinge to run, run, run back to a plane that was heading straight out of there. I had my passport and my stuffed panda bear and that’s all I needed. But, I didn’t really want to go home. I am enjoying this country, its people, and eventually I started to enjoy beach week. It was just the mere fact that I was in touch with familiarity again for the first time: airlines that I knew and waters that I had dipped my toes in before as a child.
Tourist season seemed like it was 24/7. Hotels and cabanas lined the beaches for foreigners to enjoy some exclusivity while still being able to jump the 3-foot high rope to the waters. We rented lounge chairs, dined in restaurants at least twice a day, and still had enough money to buy things in the artisan market. I came across a centerpiece that I couldn’t leave without: an assortment of carved wooden fruits on a wooden plate. I don’t know why it enamored me so much. The specialty protein was definitely fish and it was delightfully fresh every time. I was so happy to be eating something other than chicken, but you can believe that in my other meals I was eating pizza at the restaurant owned by a French former cabaret dancer, Les Moutons de la Pizza (The goats of pizza). The owner would always greet us with “I am happiness” in the thickest European accent and would produce the best tasting pizza I have ever had in my life maybe minus the one time I had an amazing Papa John’s pizza. I will for sure be back for that food and maybe the cute dog that sat out front.
I did brave the waters and fight the rip tide that would have carried me miles along the coast of Africa. I did enjoy the sunshine. I needed this break. If you asked me on the way back home if I felt that way, I may have said something on the contrary. Us Yamoussoukro folks had the pleasure of being escorted in a Embassy car to the big city in the beginning. However, we had to find our own way home. All I can say is that the public bus feels like anywhere in between a charter bus ride for a school field trip and an amusement park roller coaster. But, being away from home made me realize how much I love the little gems of this country and how I will always be in awe of sunsets, new experiences, and friends.










Beautiful pictures and thanks for sharing your experiences. Love you and savor the moments.
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Blessings my friend…
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Of course you did not want to go home! You want to be in Africa!
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