We had no idea where we were going when we drove out of Freetown. We had coffee while we waited for the others to arrive, then we headed through the hills, out of town, toward the beach. It wasn't 10 minutes before we were on a mountain road looking down at a waterfall gushing through the jungle. They used to bring tourists groups to see the waterfall and hike through the hills. That was before the war.
We drove for an hour and a half, past schools and houses and through a fishing community at the water's edge. A mosque stood tall above the houses, its spires silohuetted against a background of morning sky and the sea. We turned left and were stopped by a rope suspended a few feet off the ground. Our friend nodded at the hut to the side of the road, and the man holding the rope gave some slack so we could pass. It began to rain and the deep green hills were covered in mist.
Finally, we arrived at a small road carved out of the jungle. We followed the road until it ended at a cottage among the palm trees. The patio looked out on a perfect stretch of beach with an island in the distance. A boy walked up carrying barracuda caught that morning, and a group of women prepared it for lunch. One of the locals swam out and brought back some oysters which we ate raw. We drank wine and champagne and looked out at the waves.
The rain did not stop the entire day. After spending a few leisurely hours on the patio, a few of us walked out to the water and headed for the island. David said he would rather just play in the waves, so being the nice wife I am, I said I was swimming there whether or not he was coming. I knew that would get him. So, we swam to the island in the rain.
It was incredible, looking forward at the island and looking back at the foggy, mountainous mainland. It was one of those timeless moments, a moment you feel God designed for you and could never be recreated. A moment when you know you are in the right place and things will be okay. I stood up on the rocks, looked around, exhaled a deep breath, and thanked God for bringing me somewhere so full of beauty.
We drove for an hour and a half, past schools and houses and through a fishing community at the water's edge. A mosque stood tall above the houses, its spires silohuetted against a background of morning sky and the sea. We turned left and were stopped by a rope suspended a few feet off the ground. Our friend nodded at the hut to the side of the road, and the man holding the rope gave some slack so we could pass. It began to rain and the deep green hills were covered in mist.
Finally, we arrived at a small road carved out of the jungle. We followed the road until it ended at a cottage among the palm trees. The patio looked out on a perfect stretch of beach with an island in the distance. A boy walked up carrying barracuda caught that morning, and a group of women prepared it for lunch. One of the locals swam out and brought back some oysters which we ate raw. We drank wine and champagne and looked out at the waves.
The rain did not stop the entire day. After spending a few leisurely hours on the patio, a few of us walked out to the water and headed for the island. David said he would rather just play in the waves, so being the nice wife I am, I said I was swimming there whether or not he was coming. I knew that would get him. So, we swam to the island in the rain.
It was incredible, looking forward at the island and looking back at the foggy, mountainous mainland. It was one of those timeless moments, a moment you feel God designed for you and could never be recreated. A moment when you know you are in the right place and things will be okay. I stood up on the rocks, looked around, exhaled a deep breath, and thanked God for bringing me somewhere so full of beauty.
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