Suba Ranka picked up his cutlass, wiped the blood with his fingers and smiled. He had killed again. Only this time, the victim was a goat. He meticulously picked his nose and looked around. He was getting really good at this; chasing goats and chickens around the barre and killing them one after another.

I remember walking into my old friend’s living room in the Grassfield area of Lumley way back in 1990. Like many homes then on a Sunday afternoon, you could hear the BBC radio station blasting from a far distance. As I walked in and sat down next to my old friend – I called him my old friend for a good reason and you will see a lot of references to many of my old friends in my letters – he motioned to the radio that was strategically placed on top of the credenza adjacent to a bookshelf on the far end of the room.

From the moment we stepped off the boat we felt welcome at The Banana Island Guesthouse. We were met by Osman, who was to look after us for the evening. After taking our lunch orders we were taken to our rooms. We had been camping for 4 days so the rooms were absolute luxury as we enjoyed the showers and clean sheets.

In three years, I’ve probably passed through Lungi 18 times. On 17 occasions, I ventured no further than the airport, helipad, hovercraft launch, or ferry terminal. Once, I spent six hours in the Lungi Airport Hotel before my 5 a.m. Royal Air Maroc flight. Never did I consider exploring beyond that.

But now I know: Lungi has treasures of its own.

A natural rope hammock, high on the wooden porch of a treehouse eco-lodge, overlooking a lush green valley and the mountains beyond…

A morning mist blanketing the tropical forest terrain…The sounds of birds and insects, and the occasional call of a chimpanzee…Fresh air without the slightest trace of exhaust fumes or burning garbage or the various other smells of urban centres…

Could I really be just 20 minutes from Freetown? Yes...