Brazzaville Beach [antikvár]

I live on Brazzaville Beach. Brazzaville Beach on the edge of Africa. This is where I have washed up, you might say, deposited myself like a spar of driftwood, lodged and fixed in the warm sand for a while, just above the high tide mark. The beach never had a name until last April. Then they christened it in honour of the famous Conferenqia dos Quadros that was held a few years ago in Congo Brazzaville in 1964. No one can explain why but, one day, over the laterite road that leads down to the shore, some workmen erected this sign: 'Brazzaville Beach', and written below that, Conferenqia dos Quadros, Brazzaville, 1964. It is an indication, some people say, that the government is becoming more moderate, trying to heal the wounds of our own civil war by acknowledging a historic moment in another country's liberation struggle. Who can say? Who ever knows the answers to these questions? But I like the name, and so does everyone else who lives around here. Within a week we were all using it unselfconsciously. Where do you live? On Brazzaville Beach. It seemed entirely natural. I live on the beach in a refurbished beach house. I have a large cool sitting-room with a front wall of sliding meshed doors that give directly on to a wide 3