Benin > Eating a local pizza in the dark

A free day in the program on the beach of Grand Popo. I sleep in nicely. At breakfast, I meet the fellow travelers. After breakfast, I head to the beach. The surf along the coast is enormous, and it is strongly advised not to enter the water. The strong undertow creates a risk of being pulled out to sea. I briefly wade into the warm seawater with my feet. Afterwards, I retreat with my book in the hammock. In the afternoon, I take a walk along the quiet beach toward the center of Grand Popo. Small crabs are searching for shelter along the sand. Beautiful shells lie scattered on the beach. At one of the few beach bars, we meet Simon. He politely invites us to visit his beach bar with reggae music. Maybe later. Near the center of Grand Popo, local fishermen are hauling in their nets. Together, they pull the heavy nets onto the beach. Just as I am about to take a photo, the fishermen shout that they do not want to be photographed.

Benin - Fishermen hauling nets on Grand Popo beach

Walking through the village, we return along the main road. We decide to have a beer at Simon’s. It takes a little searching to find the entrance to the beach bar from the back, but soon we step inside. Simon is clearly pleased. The bar is tidy. Beneath the thatched roof is a space of about ten by ten meters. The sides are open, with cozy tables along the edges. The only thing missing is tourists. Most visitors to Grand Popo never even leave the Auberge. To avoid spending the entire afternoon on the beach, I take an optional excursion to the mangroves. Thomas is our tour guide for this trip, an enthusiastic young man in his early twenties. Even though there are only three of us, he is determined to organize a good trip. We walk along the dirt road to the next village, where the canoe is ready. To reach the boat, we must wade through some water. Men come running from various directions to lift me onto their shoulders.

Benin - Relaxing on the beach in Grand Popo

Based on past experiences, I politely decline. The boatman pushes the canoe into the river using a pole. At the mangrove, we dock. Thomas shows us the crabs that quickly scuttle away. Then we continue sailing along the river. As we reach the opposite side, I realize that we have already seen most of the mangrove. At the village of Hewe, we dock again. Thomas invites us for a walk through the village, pointing out voodoo memorial sites. He shows us the white voodoo flags marking the locations of voodoo temples. We visit a medical post and a cousin of Thomas invites us onto his compound, where we are offered palm wine. Naturally, the village children accompany us on our walk. Despite the presence of the Auberge in Grand Popo, I get the impression that few tourists come here. At dusk, we paddle back across the river. The mangrove was somewhat underwhelming, but the entire excursion was surprisingly enjoyable. In the evening, we decide to eat pizza at a local restaurant, about 500 meters away, near Simon’s bar. Upon arrival, everything appears dark. A young boy quickly turns on some lights when he sees us. We sit under a thatched roof. Because the fluorescent light won’t start, we are given an extra candle on the table. The boy, perhaps ten years old, politely takes our order in his school notebook and then disappears. Occasionally, he runs to the shop next door to get supplies. Meanwhile, his parents prepare the pizzas in the kitchen over a real wood fire. The pizza tastes excellent, though I am lucky mine is baked last. Just as we are about to pay, the electricity goes out. All of Grand Popo is in darkness, and it is really dark. With our flashlights, we make our way to Simon’s beach bar. Simon meets us on the sand, and by candlelight we enjoy a drink in his beach bar. I think Simon has never had so much business. Back at the Auberge, the electricity is working—the generator is providing power—while the rest of the village remains in darkness.