First Experience of Freetown - 21st August 2007

Breakfast at Hotel Barmoi could involve eggs, sausage et cetera, but the whole time I stayed there I went for their toasty Sierra Leonean coffee (sadly, the only place I found local coffee!) and fruit, which was either papaya with lime and sugar, mangoes, bananas, or a combination of two.

After breakfast, I was plunged into the incredible hustle and bustle of Freetown, and had my first experience of the torrential downpours of rainy season. We dodged rivers of rainwater and beeping traffic, and slipped into the quiet calm of the Crown Bakery for lunch. The Bakery feels like an unassuming London café but is relatively expensive, and has a Sierra Leonean and international menu. I chose deep fried fish in a bun, which turned out to be cod, and was yum. Pa had fajitas which were good n’ tasty.



In the evening we went to Alex’s, a mainly open-air seafront restaurant. This is a pretty major place to eat in Freetown, where loads of ex-pats eat (the prices being too high for most locals), and all nationalities drink in the sports bar next door, but it would be difficult to find without someone in the know; it’s tucked away behind shacks and stalls. I had bonita fish in a coconut sauce, with draft Star, chips and salad. The start of things to come…

Leaving Lakka - 26th August 2007

I slept deeply again - that sea air? Pure food? Exhaustion from bumpy roads? After a breakfast of toasted baguette and Nescafé with powdered milk, I sat on an old wooden beach lounger and talked to some local boys, while I waited for my lift. They took me on a tour of lovely Lakka village. It is nestled in the forest, where mudbrick and corrugated iron-roofed houses and huts are scattered in glades between palm tress and the sweet-smelling flowers of creepers. It wasn’t the best time to visit, apparently, because most of the villagers were at one or other of the various churches – it was Sunday. My guides weren’t at church, because they were Muslim, apart from Augustine, who had decided to take the day off because it was his birthday.





My dad arrived and took me away from Lakka, which had begun to feel like home, even though I had only seen it for the first time two days earlier. I felt sad to leave.

Nevermind, we were back off to Sussex for lunch. I still didn’t see the beach, but the groupa carpaccio was fantastic, and I had a glass of chilled Chardonnay – the first wine I’d had in soooo long. I felt the nectar trickle down my throat and got that warm feeling as it spread out in my stomach. Wine is of course especially wonderful when you’ve been deprived for a while. The main course was barbequed angelfish with chips and salad.





After the tiring journey back to Freetown, we decided to eat our evening meal at the hotel. Their rooftop restaurant has good views over the sea and nearby buildings, and the wall is made of windows, which we opened up to hear the sea and feel the breeze. After being such greedy pigs all weekend, we both ordered a small mixed salad, which was nothing special, but nice all the same. Also, to settle our full stomachs, we enjoyed G&Ts.

No 2, 2nd Time Around; The Last Supper - 2nd September 2007

No 2, 2nd Time Around

The next morning, we decided that the Banana Islands were not a good idea – we both had a nervous feeling after the trouble in Freetown, which had woken us up to danger in some sense, and the thought of a canoe trip across stormy water suddenly seemed like a very stupid idea.

So instead, we headed back down that bumpy non-road to Sussex, for coffee. We met the soppy dog again, who didn’t mind at all that I was burying her in sand – she seemed to feel quite cosy.



Then we went back to the white sand of No 2 River Beach, for a lovely, relaxing day – my last whole day. Even the sun came out for a while, before a lunch of fish kebabs with tomato and herb sauce, ketchup, sweet potato chips and Star. A new skinny dog enjoyed some of our chips, but there was no sign of the hungry chicken this time.





We went for a walk on the beach, watched some fishermen preparing their new nets, and I bought a made-to-measure skirt, which the tailor brought to me on the beach when it was finished. One fisherman told my dad he has a beautiful daughter. My dad generously offered me in marriage, saying I was very cheap, and would exchange me for the guy’s fishing boat! He was joking, but still - how embarrassing! After a swim in the warm waves, it was time to go.








When we got back to the hotel, we learned that the trouble in town the evening before had involved knives and machetes, and that some people had been injured. The police had had to use tear gas to control the situation.

Last Supper

The last supper was at The Bunker, a fantastic, wooden first floor beach bar on Lumley beach, with reggae and 80s hits playing and a sea breeze flowing through the restaurant. I had prawns in batter, with chips and salad. It was nice, but the prawns were a bit heavy on the over-cooked batter. Pa had prawns in a tasty Mediterranean sauce, and we both drank Star.

We had digestives of rum at the hotel, with some of the staff, including the laughing barman, who was uncontrollable again - this time because my dad told him I’d gone to Paddy’s, and that my dad’s colleagues go to Paddy’s to pick up white women. (Er.. what white women?! There was only me and one student who were white and female.) A waiter sold me the mix CD he’d managed to acquire, and we listened to the music (and the laughing barman) as we drank our rum.