A two hour boat ride from Greenville lies a small fishing village called Santa Cruz. In a colorful Fanti boat named Joshua, mom and I went there to spend an afternoon on the beach.
And I don’t know if I’ve ever been in a more relaxed setting. The otherwise aggressive Atlantic Ocean was made calm by a protecting headland, even making it possible to swim. Children playing football on the beach, when they weren’t hiding behind the rocks spying on us, shyly laughing and running away whenever one of us waved. A family of pigs walking around, making content sounds whenever they found something edible among the fallen leaves. The painted Fanti boats completing the palette of blues and greens, so rich, a rush for the eyes.
I lay in the shade on the sand, reading “Station Eleven” and feeling the ocean breeze against my skin.
And on our way back, the dark mountain of clouds that suddenly rose up against us along the shoreline, thunder rumbling while captain Joe showed me how to mend the fishing net. We arrived in the dark, the rain just starting to fall, tired from sun and waves, and Juan (one of our traveling companions) made us an amazing dinner from the lobsters we had bought from the fishermen in the beautiful village of Santa Cruz.
Katja Malmborg 