Benin does beach is comfortably unsettling in a homey type of way. It smells like salt air, is gritty with sand and shell and has as wide of a blue expanse as you can handle. It is deceptive in its beauty; for like many things African she would like nothing more than to kill you. You know this from the way the tide nearly pulls your feet out from under you, how the sun reflects off your white skin and the multitude of ways the ocean protects the mosquito from the perils of the dry season. That being said, Grand Popo is one of the most touristy spots in all of Benin, the type of place where you can get real ketchup with your French fries without too much trouble. Not quite Beninese Disneyland, but pretty close.
I danced around a fire with a santa hat on. Some of the second-years gave speeches. We had a good time and made a Christmas out of it.
Bah Humbug.
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