It took a 2 hour wait at the bus station, a 5 hour bus ride, and a 2 hour taxi ride on a small, pot-hole ridden dirt road into the middle of the jungle, but we were finally there- the secluded, beach paradise that I had been dreaming of since arriving in West Africa. Our home for the next 3 nights was the Green Turtle Lodge, the most impressive eco-resort I’ve ever been to. The Green Turtle is a popular heaven for backpackers, volunteers, and eco-conscious travelers; make reservations well in advance. It was late by the time we arrived, so we trudged in the sand after the lodge staffer, in the dark, until we got to a little round hut on the beach. He unlocked the door with a key attached to a child-size flip-flop and turned on the solar powered lights. Instant wow- the room was something out of a beach resort catalogue- are we really at a backpackers lodge? “Is the room okay?” the man asks. Yes, after living in a mud-brick hut for 7 months, this will do just fine. It is a beautiful round hut with a double bed and a bunk bed, a sitting area, a sink and countertop made from local pottery and shells, a shell lined shower, and an attached WC with a self-compostable toilet, with a toilet seat and paper. Yes sir, this will do. Dinner is finished at the lodge, and there are no dinning establishments around, but luckily the kitchen staff takes pity on us and agrees to make us sandwiches off the day’s lunch menu. Except for breakfast, lunch and dinners must be ordered in advance because all the ingredients are fresh from the local markets and the staff has to go buy what was ordered. It is possible to walk or bike to Akwidaa village, a few kilometers away, and eat street food, but other then that the lodge restaurant is really your only option. Have no worries though, every dish we tried was absolutely delicious; African-gourmet with a western twist at reasonable prices. We ate dinner at a rustic, lantern-lit picnic table on the beach, feet in the sand, palm trees all around, and watched the stars shine over the ocean. Yes, this will do just fine.
The next morning we were both excited to see our soundings in daylight. The Green Turtle did not disappoint. It’s got a young, eco-chic vibe without loosing it’s rustic, tropical beach roots. After a stratifying breakfast, in which I had real French-pressed coffee for the first time in 10 months, we got down to business- beach time. We lathered up the sun screen, grabbed a pagne and a book, and promptly took our places on the beach next to a palm tree. And that’s where we stayed until lunch. We ate tropical salads and sandwiches on a bench carved out of a traditional fishing boat overlooking the water, then returned to our spots under the palm tree. It was what I had been dreaming of for months. Around 3 pm I started to get that hot feeling that tells you your skin is burning, and I went back to the hut to get out of the sun and take a look. Sure enough, despite putting on sunscreen 3 or 4 times and trying to be very cautious, the back of my legs were absolutely fried. Not my entire back, which all got the same SPF treatment, just my butt to the bottoms of the back of my knees were bright red- the part of my body that hadn’t seen daylight in over 10 months. Lovely, the one thing I was trying really hard to avoid on this trip.
The next morning we decided to explore a little, giving my skin a chance to heal. Our original goal was to head to Fort Princess Town, just under an estimated 15 km away. We rented bikes from the Green Turtle, and when we asked the bike guy he told us the Fort was too far away, but 15K is nothing to a PCV in Burkina. We would take the trail to the Cape Three Points lighthouse, about halfway to Princes Town, and from there would see how we feel about continuing on. We started off, and within 5 minutes the bike had thrown me completely over the handlebars. The brakes were opposite what I am use to on my PC bike, and when I braked for the first time I used the front instead of the back, and over I went. Luckily it popped me almost cleanly over the front of the bike and I landed, like a circus trick, on my feet. With one exception- something, maybe the pedal, was forcible jammed into the back of my knee during the tumble. No cut or broken skin, but a rather large bump instantly formed that was black and blue. The swelling would continue throughout the day, and while it was no serious injury by any means, it turned into the most impressive bruise I’ve ever had, lasting a good 3 weeks. Once I had dusted myself off and regained composer, we started off again.
After over an hour of biking in the hot sun and seeing no sign for the lighthouse, we stopped and asked if we were on the right road. We weren’t. Could we continue on this road and get to Princes town, we want to see the Fort? They seemed confused as to a Fort, and no, we were not on that road either. We had to turn back. I became annoyed because Josh had insisted it would be an easy, straightforward ride and refused to pay for a guide. Well, it wasn’t; we were lost and the road was very hilly. We biked back until we hit a junction and asked this time for directions. Finally after another hour we made it to the lighthouse. The lighthouse was a lighthouse, they are all kind of the same, but Josh had never seen one before so I was glad to share the experience with him. The grounds around the light house had a few cool mural-maps of Africa and the world that were interesting; I wonder what NGO or organization initiated that? After our 5 minute tour and a short rest we were driven by hunger to head back to the lodge. Hot and tired we powered through the bike ride home and made in in under an hour, ate lunch, and resumed our position on the beach to nap.
The next morning it was time for us to move on down the coast, continue our exploration. I was sad to say goodbye to the Green Turtle. As we packed out and paid we had a lovely conversation with the English owner, charming chap, and he offered us a ride with their truck that was heading to Takoradi, the closest city, to stock up on supplies. We hopped in the back of the truck with a young British fellow who had just finished volunteer-teaching at a school in one of the coastal cities. Not a bad volunteer post at all- a beach paradise in an English speaking country, how much worse could it get?
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