Beach Bums

Again, you'll have to forgive my inability to blog regularly. Random, prolonged internet-access failure is unavoidable. And it won't be a one time occurrence, but rather a regular fact of life in this new landscape. I've come to terms with this; I hope that you, my readers, will do the same and not abandon me.
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So what did I do during my time "away"? Besides the usual struggle to learn French, stay awake reading Castells, and put words on paper, I went to the beach. Wow. Words - at least my words - are simply inadequate to describe such an experience. I think the only words I did come up with were, "Why is my camera at home? Next week. No. Tomorrow. Can we come back tomorrow?"
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I thought I had it good living in Copenhagen with my 15 minute bicycle ride to the "beach" but I had no idea. Notice the quotes. There's a reason for that. Amager strand (aka the city's beach) is a very new pile of sand, rocky sand at that, dumped on the shore by sun-deprived Scandinavians. And I can't blame them. The Danish coast - and there's lots of it - boasts some nice patches of sand but none very close to the capital. Mind you I mean close in Danish terms, where family members that live 3 hours away might as well be in, say, Africa. Oh how New Hampshire of me to be measuring distance in hours, I know.
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Anyway, my point was that up until now I was pretty happy to have once lived 15 minutes from Amager strand, even if Gondul's photos of her Queensland home town's coastline did inspire more than a little jealousy. But this was before I lived in Cotonou. After a mere 20 minutes of bumps and bounces that would have greatly impressed my old school bus buddies, you're far away from all the hustle, bustle, and pollution of the city. Your new surroundings ooze R&R: fine sand, big waves, coconut trees, cushioned lounge chairs.
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But don't expect a little pink umbrella in your drink. In fact, don't expect a drink at all. Life's easier without expectations. For example, maybe you'll get a waiter's attention, maybe you won't. Maybe they'll have what you ordered, maybe they won't. Maybe the waiter will remember to tell you that they don't have any more of what you ordered, and maybe he won't. And if you're really lucky, maybe the waiter will remember that you once upon a time ordered something at all, and then again maybe he won't. You get the idea. At least you don't have to pay upfront.
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It's not that these places are crowded - though I'm sure that sometimes they are - it's just that everything already moves at "African pace" (I think the heat has something to do with this) and that, coupled with the R&R atmosphere inherent to the beach, means there's never, ever any hurry. Personally, I don't find this so irritating, but I can understand how years of such service can make even the most patient expats here a little frustrated. A well-run beach side restaurant providing lounge chairs with adequate shade would be a goldmine.
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Because we made our little trip on Sunday we haven't had time to return, so no pictures yet. But don't worry, I'll definitely be going back. If you're impatient, you can check out the website of the restaurant/resort we went to at http://jardin-helvetia.com/. They have a few pictures online, though none really of the beach itself.