Last week I was feeling pretty beat. I have a general idea of the work ahead of me in the next 2 months, but everything keeps changing and moving around (infuriatingly so, but I’m breathing), so when I found out that contrary to my original belief, I didn't actually have to work on Easter Monday, I called Mathieu and told him to pack a suitcase. "I made a reservation; we're going to Grand Popo."
I asked my boss how one gets to Grand Popo, because following the falling-asleep-on-the-motorcycle trip to Ouidah, I figured we should take a bus or a car or something.
"You can take a taxi from Godomey," she answered. "It shouldn't cost you more than 1 500F CFA ($3.50)." Sweet!!
We finish work early on Friday, and I got the work driver to drive me home and wait for me to get a few more things together, change quickly and drive Mathieu and I to Godomey, which is on the outskirts of Cotonou, so we could catch a taxi.
When we got there, there were 5 or 6 random cars, unmarked except for the fact that they were all old cars, falling apart, with drivers shouting out different destinations. Lomé, Ouidah, Lokossa, Abomey... Of course, when they see a white girl they want to know where she's going and if they can rent out the car. 8000F to rent it out. Still cheap, you might say, but way more than 1500!!
We found a driver that would take us for 1300F and waited for the car to fill up. When we left, there were 4 of us in the back (a bigger girl, an older man, Mathieu and I) and 2 people plus the driver in the front (a student and a young military man). Wow, after about 45 minutes I was wishing I'd shelled out the $20 for our own private car, or at least a bit more so that there would only have been 3 of us in the back. Live and learn.
We drove along quickly and I managed to snap some fun pictures along the way of this village built entirely on the lakeside, or in the lake... boats and people milled around everywhere, even in the water.
There were a few scheduled stops and when we did the ladies selling nuts, water and other random food would swarm the car. I kept praying that the driver wouldn’t try to cram someone else in with us, but it seems no one else needed a taxi.
The military man up front got out first and left the 4 of us in back. Happily there was only about 20 minutes left to our trek, and soon the taxi was leaving us on the side of the highway in Grand Popo to continue on its way to Lome, Togo.
We stopped at a restaurant because I'd gotten off work at noon, packed, found a taxi, waited for the taxi to fill up and drove to Grand Popo ... and we arrived at 5pm. 1500F for fresh fish and a local pâte which is different from the stuff we found in Cotonou, grainier and red. Except when she got back from the kitchen, suddenly the price had gone up to 2000F. She let out an "Ah!" of disbelief when we accused her of changing the price because I was Yovo... but regardless, it was delicious.
Sidenote: they don’t speak Fon in Grand Popo, they speak Mina, the language they also speak in parts of Togo.
Then Mathieu and I got on a scooter in search of our hotel. La Maison Blanche had quoted me 25,000F CFA or $57ish for a bungalow beach-side for the night, negotiable, and Mathieu thought it was outrageous, so we went in search of something else. Having called around, I already knew that everything else was booked solid, but I let him try and we drove up and down the Grand Popo strip, Mathieu, the driver and me, on a scooter that had definitely seen better days.
On the way up and down the strip I noticed a raggae bar painted brightly in red, green and yellow... a definite stop during our weekend, I thought.
The Auberge, an old colonial house, was full, but there was a pool we could swim in for 1000F and a nice restaurant we thought we might eat at. Back down the strip to L'étoile de Mer, also booked, and not that nice anyway. Finally we went to La Maison Blanche (
the website doesn’t do it justice and I didn’t take any pics of the bungalow itself, sorry), where we pretended not to have a reservation, and the manager (who also turned out to be a great chef) let us know that the rooms are both double, and are 25,000 for a family, but 15,000 or $35 for a couple. Sweet!
Mathieu was worried about security, and asked if they had any guards. Two, apparently, although I never saw any. Regardless, according to everyone Mathieu asked, Grand Popo is pretty sleepy and quiet and no one makes any trouble for anybody. "This isn't Cotonou," they'd answer.
We had a little look around, the beach was much more sea-shelly, less fine than Cotonou's or Ouidah's. I think I prefer Ouidah actually, but Grand Popo had more of a touristy feel. More hotels and places to hang out on the beach.
After sunset we had a bit of tea and pulled up some chairs to watch the many many stars come out, only to see the moon rising on the ocean. Sweet!
I wanted to go for a walk along the water, but Mathieu was worried we’d get attacked and asked a young man at the hotel to join us for our walk. Mathieu likes any excuse to talk to people, and started asking the young man a bunch of questions on Grand Popo, its origins, and what there is to do here. The young man, Godfreid (his mother is Nigerian, but he doesn’t speak English), was more or less knowledgable/helpful. Apparently he’s the chef at a local restaurant, and has been for a whole 3 months!
Saturday we had an omelette and some instant coffee with some pineapple juice, fresh, of course. Then we played in the waves a little, but the lack of any life guards or anyone who can really swim prevented me from diving into the water. I’m an okay swimmer, but the ocean is merciless.
We decided to walk down the beach to check out the menu at the Auberge restaurant and passed by some fishermen and their wives collecting the catch from their nets. Didn’t seem like their catch was much to write home about, but what do I know. One of the fishermen objected to my picture taking – “you should ask permission before you take someone’s picture.” I should know better!!
The menu at the Auberge was expensive and getting to the Auberge was difficult! The sand was burning hot and we had to run from shady spot to shady spot! OW!
On the way back we decided to jog because we’d ordered a shrimp lunch for noon and god only knew what time it really was. We sat down and ordered a tall bottle of water and were so pleased to see our shrimp arrive – super tasty too! Garlic shrimp! The seafood was probably the best part of the trip (except the crab Mathieu had that night – no meat).
Then it was time to go back to the beach to sit under a palapa with some beer to watch the waves and look for seashells from our shady spot.
After a while I started to realize that my skin was pretty burned. I haven’t had a sunburn in Benin yet, despite my time on the beach, so… I kinda stopped wearing lotion. The burn wasn’t too bad, but still owwie.
It was time to get in from the sun, and I went it to take a shower, which was hot because the reservoir is black on top of the bungalow… I haven’t had a hot shower in months! Very nice. I patted myself dry and we decided to nap for about an hour and then go take a walk around town to check out that Raggae bar I saw on the way.
It was a great little place called Lion Bar. There are rooms for rent and there were tents pitched sea-side. There was an elevated concrete dancefloor with lights all around and I thought it would be a really fun place to come for Bob Marley’s birthday on May 11th – a big deal for the youth in Africa.
The owner/DJ was playing some funky little tunes. We had already been drinking beer all afternoon and their cocktail menu was too fun to pass up. We danced a lot that afternoon. The tunes were fun. The owner was happy to have us.
Then Mathieu asked if the SDB or sodabi on the menu was the real stuff… Eau de Palme… the local hard stuff, but it’s actually very nice, very soft. The owner, insulted that we would ask if it was the real stuff, immediately poured us a couple shots, which we sipped, with our cocktails, and our beer. Geez.
One of the shot glasses was from Québec, and when I asked if someone had given him a gift, he said that his wife was from Québec – that she was coming on Tuesday and that he couldn’t move with her to Québec because he has children here in Grand Popo. Very thoughtful for a father, I thought – but Mathieu says that he must be a polygamist. Who knows. Oh Africa.
The idea of Rastas and Rastafarian tradition is interesting. He had a nice mural that talked a bit about the Rasta relationship to the Bible, and a quote by Hailé Sélassié, an Ethiopian Emperor (whose title at one point was Ras Tafari)… check out the wiki
en français et
in English.
Drunk and late for dinner of disappointing crab and more shrimp, we called our scooter friend who drove us home in time to sit to watch the stars come out and order another big bottle of water.
Again the moon rose on the ocean, and I had the brilliant idea of order a half liter of white wine with dinner.
There was no walk on the beach that night. Actually, I’m not sure I remember much of dinner.
Slept well though and woke up with the worst dry mouth and really achy skin!!
On Sunday we decided that we’d relaxed enough. We packed up our things and had one last jog and breakfast by the sea, and then decided to go hang out at the Rasta bar until we felt it was time to leave, except when we got there, our friend was no where to be seen and there was no music playing, everyone was having breakfast since it was only 11am… a little bummed, we just decided to catch a cab home.
We got to sit in the front on the way back, which was nice – roomier, although there were only 3 people sitting in back. When we sat down, Mathieu asked the driver if he had any music. He scoffed as if to say, “As if I have music in my car. Have you seen my car?”
I have music! (This device has paid for itself many, many times over! So handy!)
Note to travellers: Never go anywhere without a Best of Bob Marley and the Wailers album. It will get you through anything. He’s so easy.
On the way back I took more drive-by pictures and Mathieu pointed out a small grave just outside one of the toll booths. Remind me to tell you the sad story one day.
Sunday we hung out at Mathieu’s mom’s house and went for dinner in an “expensive” restaurant where I ordered pizza with mozzarella on it! Happy Easter! I had rabbit for lunch on Tuesday, and that’s about as “Easter” as I got! No chocolate bunnies or eggs here!
The traffic to and from the beach in Cotonou on Sunday and Monday was unbelievable. There were people everywhere, on motorbikes, in cars, on foot... I decided I didn’t particularly want to partake in the craziness, so we stayed in.
Rained all morning on Monday… Sigh… Life’s a beach!
Tons more pictures in
my Flickr set…
