This weekend’s adventure brought me to Butre, a village off the Western coast of Ghana.
At the University of Ghana, we got Thursday through Monday off for Easter, so we decided to take advantage of the break and go on a little adventure.
The traveling part was long and tedious as always, but having left early in the morning, we were able to make it there by nightfall.
We had been told of a place called the Hideout, and so we inquired about accommodations there first. Because it was Easter weekend, they were booked. So we continued on down beside the ocean until we came to a newly developed beach camp called Ghana Spirit.
A rather chubby, long-haired cat greeted me upon our arrival, which automatically drew me to the place. A British couple came to Butre a couple of years ago and stayed at a similar beach camp.
They enjoyed it so much that they decided to move to Ghana and start their own resort, which is now the Ghana Spirit. We were able to stay in the dormitory, which included three bunk beds for about 5 cedis per night. The food, which was a little expensive for Ghana, was absolutely delicious. I had my first hamburger in over a month, and I enjoyed every last bite of it.
The next day, I decided to walk down to the beach. I could see a small island with cliffs protruding off the coast, and I wanted to check it out. The savage beauty of that place was remarkable. The powerful waves crashed into the rocky shore and sent a foamy spray flying through the air, soaking everything in close range.
I climbed a steep hill on the shore that was adjacent to the tall island, and sat on the ground, just soaking in the beauty that surrounded me. From my vantage point, I could see for miles around. A small village stood over to the left, formerly hidden by the cliffs and miles of pristine beaches lined the coast.
I could have written an entire novel on that cliff, fueled by the inspiration its gorgeous landscape provided. I felt blessed to have found such a place in the world. It would have been completely ruined, in my opinion, if there were tall buildings and ritzy hotels off the shore. It was the untouched, tucked away aspect of Butre that made it so special.
The next morning, my friend Will and I went down to the village to take a canoe ride up the River Butre. Our guide Francis promised that we would see monkeys and crocodiles. We did not.
In fact, I would have been content if we had not taken the ride up the river. Growing up on the Volusia River in Florida gave me much experience in canoe rides up jungle-like rivers.
After our ride, we decided to try and find some cheaper food in the village. You guessed it – fish heads.
Actually, I purchased rice (slightly over-cooked) and red red (a local bean dish), only the red had fish in it. I’m not a fish hater, by any means, but I’m not too keen on fish in beans.
Needless to say, I decided to just pay the extra money to eat hamburgers and kabobs at Ghana Spirit for the rest of the weekend. We met a lot of interesting characters that weekend. It’s not every day that you can sit on the beach with a German and a Mexican.
It was really interesting talking to all of these people about what brought them to Ghana.
On Easter, there was an enormous beach party at the resort. There were probably about 150 Ghanaians of all ages dancing on the beach in their Sunday best.
A group of children decided that we oburonis would make a fine audience, and so they made their way over to where we were sitting and put on quite the show.
I saw tomorrow’s R&B sensation, dressed in a white Ralph Lauren button down, with moves that made you forget his young age. It didn’t take very long for the children to start fighting for attention. I even saw a couple children get elbowed as another suave young gentleman took the center stage.
There was, of course, the one child with no rhythm, a rare find in Africa, I can assure you. The next morning everyone took off to go their separate ways, some back to their businesses in the city, and others to volunteer in the villages. We, however, were on our way back to Legon.
I love the campus here, but after spending a wonderful weekend on the beaches of Butre, coming back to Legon was not a welcoming idea.
I’ve decided to lay off my traveling adventures for a couple of weeks and focus on volunteering at the orphanages. I’m going in the morning, armed with an arsenal of mosquito nets, diapers and powdered milk. I’m going to be starting a fundraiser over the next couple of weeks. If you want to find out more about it, check out my blog atwww.kimberfoli.blogspot.com.

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