Three words: Black. Sand. Beach.
Before coming to Cameroon, I pictured this place in my head. Black sand. Ocean. American food. I was in!
Limbe Beach is a tiny resort area just outside of Buea. After hitching a ride with Mr. Bibum, the founder of the deaf school where I volunteer part-time, and his wife Margaret, my roommate and I grabbed some breakfast (omelettes and bacon!) at a restaurant inside the wildlife reserve.
Mr. Bibum and his wife joined us and told the story of how they met a university in the UK, where Margaret is from, and started the school in Mr. Bibum's native Cameroon. When they mentioned living in D.C. for 15 years after studying at Gallaudet University, I quickly asked Hailey to sign that I went to Howard.
“I lived on H street!” Mr. Bibum replied. We made an instant connection.
The day was going smooth until we met this guy:
It was a 20 minutes ride to the beach and every taxi passed us by. We took a chance on a motorcycle taxi for half the price.
We got on the bike. This guy went from 0 to 60 mph so fast my camera almost fell out my hand. He sped around dump trucks, leaning the bike dangerously to the ground. We narrowing missed potholes going down hill and never stopped for idling pedestrians in a busy street.
I heard Hailey beg him to slow down. Instead, he keep going like an extra in Fast and the Furious Africa Edition. I was waiting for the moment I would go flying into a tree. No one wears helmets here so I surely would have taken my last breath.
After 30 terrifying minutes, we stopped right at the edge of the beach.
Was it worth it? I think so:
Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.
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