The Cool Coast

If I have regret about this trip, it has been my failure to visit Cape Coast. But then again, I came to Africa for Michael’s wedding and not for sightseeing. I was dressed, I had dressed deliberately before Jeff and Tamara returned so that we would go out and about. In many ways my decision was a mistake as I was still very tired. It was a long drive, but the scenery was new. We arrived at a smart hotel, or so I thought. It was a Private Beach Hotel with thatched huts, large swimming pool and terraces overlooking the beach. The air was cool, the music good. There were a few Europeans, but not that many. This was not a select beach resort for the tourist. This was more for the educated African, and of course their guest. They brought us a table and Jeff directed them to where he wanted it positioned. Their brought us some chairs, and then some drinks and food. My Pineapple Juice was the best ever, but the idea of food was the last thing on my mind. I slept again, this time with the music playing to my right and the waves crashing onto the coast on my left. I awoke and thanked my guests for their kindness, and then slept again. Jeff suggested that we returned home, I was having none of it. The cool air, the music, the waves, this was Africa at its best.