Christmas Eve at Stone Village

After a ridiculously sweaty night's sleep, we left Blissjoy (feeling neither bliss or joy-ful) and moved our gear to Stone Village, an inexplicably bright yellow hut, right at the end of the beach, cut off at night-time by a river that swells with the tide. But there is a bridge that leads across and up to Black Mamba - the resort which is currently closed and the one that our Rasta friend didn't deny his was!

Next to the hut was a wooden structure where a couple of tents were placed on, under shelter. The hut itself had a really nice double bed, obviously Dree and Kerry's, with me and Barney having the floor in the adjoining room with a couple of mattresses. Weirdly, the Rasta man who was in charge at the place (called Black Eagle.... real name Azulo) said that we wouldn't need a key because the door wouldn't lock. With Danielle's words ringing in our ears about keeping our wallets shut, we asked to have the key regardless and all made sure we'd have money belts and passports with us at all times!

I got chatting to Black Eagle a few days later and found that he and his German wife had started up Stone Village, which was a really nice plot of land at the edge of the beach, far enough away to not be disturbed, with it's own little swimming area away from the fishermen, before she fell pregnant and wanted to return to Germany for the baby. Beagle (Black-eagle) was looking after the place and renovating it ever so slowly. He was a really nice guy, although he seemed to be stoned most of the time, and came out with some phrases like 'Rastafari' and 'Serious?!'. One day we had no water in the tank to flush the loo or shower (both in a separate yellow block to the hut). It took a while to get some from the village, but he was really apologetic.

Once we'd moved in we went down the beach to a surf bar called Sankfora and got some lunch. The guy who was running that was called Brett and used to work for Ripcurl, before travelling around the world looking for the waves. He was looking after the bar for a friend who was back home, and introduced us to Yao, a deaf and dumb young lad from Busua, and the dancing baby, who reminded me of Ella as he bopped along to the African hip hop!

Brett told us about the surfing competition that was happening on the 26th and 27th December, which was strange as I didn't think the waves were that good, and more importantly about the whole pig that Brett was planning on roasting on a fire on the beach for Christmas dinner! It sounded mouthwateringly good, but unfortunately it didn't happen as the butcher backed out of the deal for some reason.

After a good lunch, we returned to Stone Village, which involved a climb over some smooth rocks after the river; which a lot of people seemed to use as a cut through to go around the bay, so not too private... While we'd been gone for lunch, Beagle had unlocked the door and put some more pillows inside. I don't think there was a bad intention in just opening the door to our hut, and he was just trying to be kind. It was weird though; having a key that was, in effect, useless, but we just left it.

The water close to Stone Village was really clear and was just sand underfoot. It meant for some good swimming away from too many harsh waves - how it was for the rest of Busua beach, where the surfing was going to take place. Then we chilled in the sun, reading some National Geographics that were in the hut. Pretty random but Beagle said he liked them!

As it was Christmas Eve, we decided to go out for a few. Starting, and finishing, at Okorye Tree, a restaurant on the beach, Barney started in true Kronenbourg fashion and had three beers before the food arrived. After a particularly nice Red-Red (jollof rice, fried plantain, mmmmmm, and spicy beans) we ended up dancing with some of the staff (the lovely Esther) after the restaurant closed, and had a few dubious shots. Then I showed the guys that I'd ripped a SMALL hole in my trousers and Dree went in for the kill - ending up in a massive rip across my crotch. Pants exposed and dignity lost, I ended up heading home soon after. Barney had left before most of the dancing due to his intolerance for beverages, and so couldn't have shown us his moves!