Butre proper is a small grid of mud-brick and concrete houses pressed between the river and the forested hill that holds Fort Batenstein. A loop of twenty minutes takes you through the lot of it: the central square where the elders meet, the small Methodist church, a couple of provision shops, and the path that climbs to the fort.
Mornings are the best time to walk. The fishing boats are returning, women head down to the river with laundry, and the smell of palm oil and smoked fish drifts from every other doorway. Greet people as you go — a quiet "ete sen" (how are you) in Twi opens almost any door. The village is small enough that by the second day everyone will know your face.