On the way back up from the beach, strolling through a bamboo hut suburb, we hear the sound of a lot of singing. A big family is having a great craic and they invite us to be part of it. So in we go, whereby we are promptly given a place to sit, a glass of homemade slightly fermenting millet broth, asked if we would like to brake bread with them and treated to a song. In fact the entire experience turns out to be a special treat. When the song is finished, Pascal our host, gives us a bowl of rice, beans and chicken feet. Oh no! Not the boiled chickens feet. Anik easily scoffs it, Andrea has to force it down but Finn and I can’t make the psychological leap required to hoover the skin off and crunch on a toe. We say our goodbyes after sharing in their festivities for about an hour, pop something in the family kitty, as everybody did, and as a way of saying thanks I sing Spancil Hill. Magic! Some of them even try to sing along.
