A couple of hours drive from Monrovia lies the small beachside town Robertsport. It is right on the border of Sierra Leone, and the mountainous landscape that is so characteristic of Liberia’s diamond rich neighbor carefully starts here.
This is where the big and important people from Monrovia come to get away. Naturally, this became our first day trip with mom, Hanna and Morris.
You know, few things compare to rain forest trees. This grew more or less on the beach, where they just had opened a small camp ground at the Robertsport beach. It was covered with thorns and I was wearing flip-flops, but hey, I’m not made of glass. I’m made of skin and by the time I got down on the ground again, my feet, legs, hands and arms were covered with blood drops and tiny puncture wounds. I’m nothing if not devoted to trees, and the posing in different ways with them.
They claim to have the best surfing waves in West Africa on this beach. I don’t really know anything about surfing, but they sure seemed exceptionally good for surfing. There were both beginner tourists on surfing lessons and semi-pro local boys taking advantage of the super long waves. Even I got persuaded to try some surfing, with the help of one of the local boys. Mostly, I just twirled around in the middle of the wave, being tugged behind the board. However, I managed to get up on one wave, lying on the board, and god. The rush! Like flying on the ocean! Now I understand the thing about surfing. I want to do it again!
Afterwards, I was exhausted. Lying in the shade, listening to the waves was about all I could do.
I think they’ve had Swedish guests in the beach bar before. Dear, old Selma.
So, I’m applying for an internship at a ministry in Liberia. There is nothing certain about it, but if I get it and I go to Monrovia for a couple of months, Robertsport will definitely be my regular weekend spot, there’s no question.
Katja Malmborg 