Column No. 6- Going out (and never coming back home)

Going out (and never coming back home)
By David Krueger

Believe it or not, these columns really test my journalism skills. More than anything they help me to improve my vocabulary. While talking about my experiences in Sierra Leone there are only so many ways to say “awesome,” “incredible,” “fantastic” or “amazing.” So, for this column I’m not going to use any of those words. It’s going to be hard, because I’m going to describe a remarkable experience.

I went out for the first time recently to experience my first taste of Sierra Leonean nightlife. Six friends and myself (which makes seven in total for those of you counting at home) piled into one taxi and traveled for about a half an hour to Lumley Beach, for one of the most awe-inspiring nights of my life.

I’ve been to bars and clubs all over the world. However, I’ve never been to a bar quite like the Atlantic Crossing. It’s part bar, part club, part beach, part heaven. There are very few words (and I can’t use four of them) to describe how grand and marvelous it is.

There are lots of bars where you have an extraordinary view to enjoy while sipping on your beverage. For instance, in Seattle there’s a rooftop bar that overlooks the Space Needle, a giant needle-like structure that is one of the few things my home city is known for (along with coffee and constant rain).

But I’ve never seen another bar where you cannot only see and hear the ocean, but actually walk into the sand and touch it.

While sitting in the sand, staring out at the ocean, behind me was a perfect combination of African music blended with the occasional well-known American song. Two of my favorite songs ever were played as I saw crabs crawl across the sand in front of me.

I also heard my new favorite song, apparently an African hit that plays absolutely everywhere I go. I don’t know what it’s called (I’m going to guess something along the line of “I Love My Life”), but the “oooo, oooo, ooooo, oooooooooo” that rises each time the chorus comes on is absolutely perfect.

All I could think about was how I didn’t want to leave. Ever. However, my friends felt we had to. The Atlantic Crossing was just the pre-party. There was still the main event to go to.

For that we took a taxi (two this time, a much smarter and more comfortable decision) down the road a few kilometers to Aces, another club on the beach with a pretty phenomenal view itself. There we proceeded to dance the night away.

Aces was another strong showing for the Freetown nightlife. The simplest idea, having a fan blow cool air toward those overheated on the dance floor, made all the difference. It did not, however, prevent my knees from being very, very sore the following morning.

As a wonderful, added bonus I once again got to hear and dance along to my new favorite song.

Unable to take the smile off my face, I spent the better part of three hours trying not to embarrass myself on the dance floor. I’m not sure I succeeded. But it was still a splendid evening that I didn’t want to end. But as the evening became morning and my legs began to hint that they might not be able to hold me up for much longer, we ventured home.

It’s very difficult to describe just how much fun I had. But I have a few more adjectives to try before I wrap this column up. The night was breathtaking, tremendous and superb.

But I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. Salone is all of those things. As well as stunning, mind-blowing, astonishing and astounding.