Fifth Journey Day 189: Goat Passing Through the Corridor

Date: November 13, 2025
Location: Bolama, Guinea-Bissau

On the island town of Bolama in Guinea‑Bissau, the day opened in a warm haze. Low tides expose broad sand flats around the Bijagós edge, and coral-colored colonial facades fade beside banana trees and goats. Salt and dust ride a faint sea breeze, and the island’s quiet feels full of memory.

Haze and Low Tide

This morning, the air felt slow. It was as if time here had softened at the edges. I walked from the small guesthouse toward the southern edge of the island, where the tide had gone out a long way. The sand was cracked like pottery glaze, and shallow pools held the reflection of the clouds. I didn't say anything; the silence between footsteps was enough.

Ruins, Goats, and Memory

Bolama feels like it is in-between memory and neglect. Coral-colored ruins stand next to banana trees, and goats walk through open doors that used to be doors to offices or homes. The walls are still painted blue and orange, but they are peeling and blistering in the sun. This is a quiet reminder of what happened in the past. I couldn't stop thinking about surfaces. I thought about how they keep traces of people even after they leave.

When the Water Returns

By noon, the tide started coming back. The water made a soft, rhythmic sound as it pushed against the sand. It was like slow breathing. I stood there and watched it rise. I wasn't rushing; I was just observing how distance fades away. There was a moment when my shadow and its reflection on the wet ground became one; I couldn't tell where the shadow ended and the reflection began.

Inside the Afternoon

I came back with salt on my skin and a slight headache from the heat. It felt good to rinse my hands in cool water, to sit near the window with no plan except to let the light fade. The ferry horn sounded once in the distance. It was a dull, metallic sound that seemed to belong to another time.

Choosing Stillness Over Sketching

Today, I feel stillness over erosion.

An Island’s Patience

The island is quiet, but not peaceful. It's a sign of patience, of things falling apart slowly without complaint.

Travel Notes

• Weather: 28°C; warm, heavy air with light haze; faint sea breeze carrying salt and dust across cracked tidal sand.
• Scents: Sea salt, sun-warmed plaster, damp stone, and the green breath of banana leaves.
• Sounds: Slow water pressing the shore, the single call of a distant ferry horn, quiet hoofsteps of goats, and the hush between footsteps.
• Reflection: Surfaces remember; tide and light fold distance until shadow and reflection become one. Stillness, today, feels stronger than erosion.

Continue the Journey

You may also enjoy reading about yesterday’s quiet reflections, or linger with another moment from Guinea‑Bissau where tide and time move at the same rhythm.