How a campfire helped bridge cultural divides

His ice cream was using the cone to do a very good impression of a waterfall. The sweat on his brow seemed to be viewing this as a competition. Using a tissue as a temporary dam between his forehead and his shirt, he gazed out at the beach from the promenade. It was shimmering with heat and laughter and beach towels.

Ten metres to his right were some Nigerian families. The pot of Jollof behind the windbreak was making his mouth water despite the distance. Beyond them were two Polish families. He’d overheard their banter as he’d debated between salted caramel and vanilla at the kiosk. To his left were some Ghanaians, happily setting up deckchairs.

All three groups looked content, comfortable and self-contained.