tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39162025237597785312024-02-02T02:23:28.384-08:00Two years in GhanaA travel blog from Ghana about walking, travelling, ecotourism, eating, football and general pottering about in Accra and beyond.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-15276561528291701132013-08-21T06:50:00.002-07:002013-08-21T06:57:33.709-07:00Ghana<style>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrYF2U5c0A0afbDC0Qhrkv7S4fHQ6ELixxgugCYyOUKb8xtUmiqn0_H074FUDXWzTSG9P3zcmOe2B-Zk3W7e-JOQpZHsV0ctqNFMl8dN9CLITGOtB4nQNGi7H65EzZ_8YRVCEf529v5_I/s1600/IMG_9385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrYF2U5c0A0afbDC0Qhrkv7S4fHQ6ELixxgugCYyOUKb8xtUmiqn0_H074FUDXWzTSG9P3zcmOe2B-Zk3W7e-JOQpZHsV0ctqNFMl8dN9CLITGOtB4nQNGi7H65EzZ_8YRVCEf529v5_I/s1600/IMG_9385.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Two years goes quickly. It
feels like only yesterday that Hannah and I <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2011/08/16-hours-and-counting.html" target="_blank">landed at Kotoka airport in Accra</a>,
late in the night, wondering what life in Ghana would be like.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It wasn’t yesterday, of
course; yesterday I was sipping a coffee in a trendy Berlin café, just around
the corner from our new flat. The summer air was crisp compared to</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"> Accra’s
humid cloak; the pavement consisted of neatly arranged slabs, rather than an
open sewer; the waitress came straight over to serve me, without having to be
prodded awake first. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And yet I was missing
Ghana. Berlin seems too calm, too organised. I miss the chaos: <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2013/06/hawkers.html" target="_blank">hawkers coming up to sell bead necklaces and phone credit</a>; goats eating plastic bags and chickens
pecking for seeds; the constant sounds of car horns and music; children playing
in the streets; everyone smiling, whatever they’re doing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Ghana was a wonderful home
for two years. We visited a lot of the country – the geography geek in me was
pleased that we spent time in all ten of Ghana’s regions – and were rewarded
with some truly memorable experiences.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBiqD4zF59BGsQDJBSlpqefdPim3gpLw8d4NZgmZDOFnqmj6Ao51jpMU5TgHpOrZ5BzZn7BhLbR7CiylhG07gLSIF36enBb6_eVnC-Ab5cTxgcJ-3FLTMGV5EA3cUu9Fl2brow4OzJEk/s1600/IMGP4752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBiqD4zF59BGsQDJBSlpqefdPim3gpLw8d4NZgmZDOFnqmj6Ao51jpMU5TgHpOrZ5BzZn7BhLbR7CiylhG07gLSIF36enBb6_eVnC-Ab5cTxgcJ-3FLTMGV5EA3cUu9Fl2brow4OzJEk/s1600/IMGP4752.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">One highlight was Mole
National Park, which compensates for its lack of big cats or migrating herds by
getting visitors <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2012/04/elephants.html" target="_blank">up close to its elephants</a>. If you’ve never watched elephants
mix up a mud bath before coating skin or playing together in a water hole, or had
one look you directly in the eye from just a few metres away, then it’s worth
visiting Ghana for this alone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2013/04/tick-lists.html" target="_blank">bird walk</a> and
afternoon game drives were also rewarding. Our guides always managed to spot
something special: a roan antelope through the dense bush or a colourful fruit
pigeon hidden in the higher branches. Mole has plans to develop a luxury lodge,
and the road from Tamale is being improved. Hopefully the park will maintain
its understated charm despite these new developments.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFpMh4tVv8C2MBLNADKtphnSw-opyFv6IW69LUW0hSammkgPudKNiduY6FtTx5VTqREaJ2iY3bnFmnBCCU8eABA_v8tCUxnqfrwZF1uYJ38Ff0awXJ50BfNf9XF0sz7niW2yJOxcKpeI/s1600/IMG_5318+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFpMh4tVv8C2MBLNADKtphnSw-opyFv6IW69LUW0hSammkgPudKNiduY6FtTx5VTqREaJ2iY3bnFmnBCCU8eABA_v8tCUxnqfrwZF1uYJ38Ff0awXJ50BfNf9XF0sz7niW2yJOxcKpeI/s1600/IMG_5318+2.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Ghana’s main attraction is
its tropical beaches. We explored much of the coast, from <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2012/07/stilts.html" target="_blank">Beyin near the Cote D’Ivoire border</a> to <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2013/02/lagoon.html" target="_blank">Keta Lagoon</a> in the southeast. My favourite place was <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2011/12/akwidaa.html" target="_blank">Green Turtle Lodge</a>, a backpacker resort near Akwidaa – the perfect place to lie back
in a hammock, drink beer with other travellers and wish you had thought of
writing ‘The Beach’ first. Hannah’s pick was the more upmarket <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2012/02/butre.html" target="_blank">Fanta’s Folly near Butre</a>, where the eponymous Nigerian owner serves delicious food flavoured
with herbs picked from her husband’s garden. We also saw our one and only
turtle in Ghana here. Closer to Accra, Till’s No.1 resort provided a quick
weekend getaway from city life.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgBY-O2JXrnvL3DJ6D0ASt1xcU0sxtpBAiFn9SaAPIYDov2hrc64Tn1_ILmJwFeTTHZRrW5mw2SGQk20ZgAJ2YY2XJzIAmv8ji5aJqHWYAcwi85JwiduoQwGgSnKc_OhFcrbaGfeGOPTk/s1600/IMG_8537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgBY-O2JXrnvL3DJ6D0ASt1xcU0sxtpBAiFn9SaAPIYDov2hrc64Tn1_ILmJwFeTTHZRrW5mw2SGQk20ZgAJ2YY2XJzIAmv8ji5aJqHWYAcwi85JwiduoQwGgSnKc_OhFcrbaGfeGOPTk/s1600/IMG_8537.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">One of my motivations for
moving to Ghana was to see the lesser-known parts of a country, something not
always possible with shorter visits. The main outlet for this was the Ghana
Mountaineers, a group of like-minded hikers gathered from across the world in
Accra. We climbed <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2013/05/afadjato.html" target="_blank">Ghana's highest peak</a>; we camped out under a full moon on <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/veranda-mountain.html" target="_blank">Verandah Mountain</a>; we completed
Ghana’s own three peaks, Krobo, Iogaga and Osoduku; and we beat our own tracks
through the hills of the <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.co.uk/search/label/Volta" target="_blank">Volta Region</a> and beyond, literally in places:
while many people visit Boti Falls, very few <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2012/11/boti-falls.html" target="_blank">hack their way up the river to do it</a>, battling snakes (OK, one sleeping snake), storms and the jungle on the
route. Ghana has huge potential as a hiking destination; nothing too high or
challenging, but fantastic views and a good infrastructure to get around easily.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMyFpForWhnoqVFW6XPsC-a59X_eTk-ef4jHri7JoApdZiQhLQppFap-S09bQ9oESlBru2Daq4whPfP28YAVuedaXDuxeVBb3p73GrrJEjZc9Bef-DjXezBZLT7DmdlRXOeurcRD3zFA/s1600/IMG_6706.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUMyFpForWhnoqVFW6XPsC-a59X_eTk-ef4jHri7JoApdZiQhLQppFap-S09bQ9oESlBru2Daq4whPfP28YAVuedaXDuxeVBb3p73GrrJEjZc9Bef-DjXezBZLT7DmdlRXOeurcRD3zFA/s1600/IMG_6706.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">If Ghana is easy to fall
for, <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/search/label/Accra" target="_blank">Accra takes a little longer to love</a>. It’s a fast-developing city, with
high-rise buildings going up on every spare corner of land, clearing the last
few green spaces and trees as they go. Half-built concrete shells dominate the
city’s skyline and as flats, hotels, offices and shopping malls come to life.
Many of these changed little in two years, as the developers’ money runs out or
they become mired in land disputes. Painted warnings claiming ‘land not for
sale’ are a common sight, and anyone passing through Cantoments will see the
red warnings on land: ‘<a href="http://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/artikel.php?ID=229227" target="_blank">Property of E.B. Tibboh – keep off</a>’, although he never
seemed to actually build anything.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Next to our flat in East
Legon, an entire block of flats was constructed from scratch during our stay.
As the bright orange outer panels coloured our neighbourhood and the vast satellite
dishes were screwed on, the family living across the road sold simple meals of
fufu and sauce to workers from the nearby repair yard and farms from their
ramshackle wooden hut. The children, who worked there late into the night, sold
me beer and tomato puree, insisting that I returned the bottles so they could
get their deposits back. Every few pesawas counts for Accra’s poorer residents.
And their simple business was a step up from those found in the poorest
quarters, <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2012/10/lighthouse.html" target="_blank">such as Jamestown</a>. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCtlXuWjGlVHr6yVhsnbxMVkNlx62_DQhKOqjBINcecmpJHi7RqUTzHeqgTLFPWrIRhYbcY6X3lOxQcNHOHHxL8jY_nYioQzhelf_YKuTiow4LoVsiiGdig3o7tlNjMOFELMQ_xerEpA/s1600/IMG_1129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMCtlXuWjGlVHr6yVhsnbxMVkNlx62_DQhKOqjBINcecmpJHi7RqUTzHeqgTLFPWrIRhYbcY6X3lOxQcNHOHHxL8jY_nYioQzhelf_YKuTiow4LoVsiiGdig3o7tlNjMOFELMQ_xerEpA/s1600/IMG_1129.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Life in Accra had its
moments, though. We enjoyed some fantastic food (none of it Ghanaian) in the
<a href="http://www.sushiinaccra.com/" target="_blank">capital’s many restaurants</a>; I played football with former Ghana internationals at
the British High Commission, and we watched the local derby, <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2013/05/the-big-match.html" target="_blank">Hearts of Oak v Asante Kotoka</a>, in the impressive national stadium; Hannah taught a former
president’s grandson at Ghana International School; and on an unforgettable
night at +233 jazz club, we joined our Canadian friends Andrew and Christie as part
of a mass dance routine without being laughed off the floor by the more supple
and rhythmic locals.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqVccRlBPY5Uq8q7mtM1VREERv7Ataj4aofuqIdJEfAz5tcRAFtM0MyJ3vkEhtkl7RHIuNcagZaioWlr1MNIZrN9znc7R3WNGpqB9-XqxstB1GiyR2ZF2lElgoZkRwYZe7MBsiq34oPuw/s1600/IMG_1171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqVccRlBPY5Uq8q7mtM1VREERv7Ataj4aofuqIdJEfAz5tcRAFtM0MyJ3vkEhtkl7RHIuNcagZaioWlr1MNIZrN9znc7R3WNGpqB9-XqxstB1GiyR2ZF2lElgoZkRwYZe7MBsiq34oPuw/s1600/IMG_1171.jpg" height="130" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">We also experienced an
African election. After the build up, which saw the unexpected and widely
mourned death of the president John Atta Mills, I had anticipated … what?
Street riots? Tribal warfare? Perceptions of African democracy are probably
tainted by those that make the news in the UK. But in the event, it was extremely
quiet and democratic; there was more tension in the city during the <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2013/01/football.html" target="_blank">two African Cup of Nations</a>, in both of which Ghana made the semis. And lost.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEnMFGufy5Twv02MeMmavOn8aOwK5B1HUB0s8D0QE-iMDX3ze_iOnBXiAOWemBgHRV9pognvSAYgqgHWNGq4t4qw45ZyJmQUEqRq4M3oPsJpnsVtCdfldiKoYreVpkf09gx1Jm-09klE/s1600/IMG_4971.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEnMFGufy5Twv02MeMmavOn8aOwK5B1HUB0s8D0QE-iMDX3ze_iOnBXiAOWemBgHRV9pognvSAYgqgHWNGq4t4qw45ZyJmQUEqRq4M3oPsJpnsVtCdfldiKoYreVpkf09gx1Jm-09klE/s1600/IMG_4971.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">There are many more
memories: the primary school on <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2011/11/kpala-island.html" target="_blank">Kpala island in Lake Volta</a> powered by the
playground roundabout; visiting the <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2012/11/rice.html" target="_blank">rice farmers</a> in the Volta Region and
hearing about the complexities of land acquisitions; experiencing the <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2013/04/shrines.html" target="_blank">shrines and rituals</a> of northern Ghana. Two years was long enough to enjoy the
good things about the country, and we are leaving before the typically
insignificant and indulgent expat frustrations – power cuts, heat stroke,
traffic, <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2013/06/logic.html" target="_blank">bewilderment about the Ghanaian way of doing things</a> –led to an even more
unhealthy amount of Gulder beer being consumed.</span>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">Hannah
and I are both certain that we will return to Ghana, to visit friends, return
to Mole and laze on the beach. But for now, as with half of the dishes listed
on any Ghanaian menu … please, it is finished.</span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7UmPOoLw5hwr5wl2ncfcAa1kUVvWjjgGHcRlqQ3OaMIQWeFS2uO9cipvr9wZekn43tbN-Oxe4176L4exvDzNfuZenzvq4WK-f6At7YCkvCACbg1t65IJq_VSq8UzMdoCyELdhPDvU4d0/s1600/IMG_1016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7UmPOoLw5hwr5wl2ncfcAa1kUVvWjjgGHcRlqQ3OaMIQWeFS2uO9cipvr9wZekn43tbN-Oxe4176L4exvDzNfuZenzvq4WK-f6At7YCkvCACbg1t65IJq_VSq8UzMdoCyELdhPDvU4d0/s1600/IMG_1016.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-30577561575342462332013-07-15T07:27:00.000-07:002013-08-13T07:27:38.017-07:00Bus<style>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzXjtbYzqASrbRgdbubA3Y5-awV-xi_WPhTr1uNgEm1X1MMTUBLJQ_9jlG6s6hzr56GWvoZWbBEi91aLBzv6BNYJ6AAb3NYTxTmd26DWtS_bYgoNS18MDHjkgnHcMh30jDZGakGh4xxc/s1600/IMG_2124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQzXjtbYzqASrbRgdbubA3Y5-awV-xi_WPhTr1uNgEm1X1MMTUBLJQ_9jlG6s6hzr56GWvoZWbBEi91aLBzv6BNYJ6AAb3NYTxTmd26DWtS_bYgoNS18MDHjkgnHcMh30jDZGakGh4xxc/s1600/IMG_2124.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Hamale bus station</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Once you’ve experienced
Ghana’s main attractions, there’s really only one thing left to do: travel the
entire length of the country in one day. That’s 665km in a cramped, rickety bus.
With unforgiving wooden seats and a crotchety driver. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Late in the afternoon, Hannah
and I had crossed into Ghana from <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/search/label/Burkina%20Faso" target="_blank">Burkina Faso</a> at Hamale, a small town in the
far northwest. Our plan was to get a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">tro tro</i>
to Wa, the nearest large town, then continue to Accra the next day on a comfortable
VIP bus – complete with comfy seats, Nigerian films on TV and perhaps even a
preacher on board. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But the border guard who
stamped our passports told us that the last transport had gone for the day; we
would have to catch the Metro Mass bus to Kumasi at 4.00am in the morning. Metro
Mass is Ghana’s state-funded, poorly managed transport network, with antique,
overcrowded vehicles. It was not an attractive option, but the only one available.
</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGKRBGJMJx8WdNGVoWxZGaBvrtg2o7E0RICkAa5iMO3k3VuFmoda1YeS6ikg4Km5uFjKULa7sVZ5ZZzoTAPPxf132ObFQuoVug1OkRSMge06PblSDPl1y2DVzo3M3SQOLR6IBD8XYSiv0/s1600/IMG_2122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGKRBGJMJx8WdNGVoWxZGaBvrtg2o7E0RICkAa5iMO3k3VuFmoda1YeS6ikg4Km5uFjKULa7sVZ5ZZzoTAPPxf132ObFQuoVug1OkRSMge06PblSDPl1y2DVzo3M3SQOLR6IBD8XYSiv0/s1600/IMG_2122.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The Hamale Hilton</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Our next task was to find
somewhere to stay until 4.00am. Hamale is chaotic, like many border towns, but
it’s a remote crossing with few tourists – hence a lack of tourist-friendly
outlets. The town’s only hotel offers dingy rooms around a bare concrete
courtyard. The mattress had an ominous brown sheen and the bathroom comprised a
tap in the courtyard and a foul-smelling long-drop toilet. It was far from
inviting, but as with the transport, there were no other options. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">No other options for
cosseted Westerners at least. Rising early, we walked to bus station. Clearly most
travellers wait at the station, rather than paying 30 cedis for a hotel room
(this would more than double the bus fare); some were still asleep, wrapped up
in blankets to keep out the cool night air, while others crowded around a TV
showing a spy movie. Simple our hotel may have been, but it was a luxury few
could afford.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyTqlggya4J_SJb0w637_GjQt6jYD8-uEOheHXYPk4NSQOVcPWQ5qtp88IyE2ccqh-FIbc3bOBx_5MMT8uWaK-NM9-GBTFj8Mx6O2QMGJFvDOzZKSxrxDyt2rw6sPvBXZDbXhthIOxego/s1600/IMG_2127.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyTqlggya4J_SJb0w637_GjQt6jYD8-uEOheHXYPk4NSQOVcPWQ5qtp88IyE2ccqh-FIbc3bOBx_5MMT8uWaK-NM9-GBTFj8Mx6O2QMGJFvDOzZKSxrxDyt2rw6sPvBXZDbXhthIOxego/s1600/IMG_2127.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Only 21 hours to go...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I bought a fried egg
sandwich from a father-and-son team who were feeding the waiting crowds. The
boy, no more than 10 years old, looked exhausted as he brought over my
breakfast, his eyes half-closed and steps slow. I wondered if he had been
working all night, and if he would be going to school in a few hours. Despite
the economic progress, Ghana is still a poor country, especially in the far
north, and many children have to work to help out the family business. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Ghanaians don’t travel
light, and it took over an hour to cram all the bags into the bus’s storage
decks. The driver shouted directions at his young ‘mate’ (or conductor) before
eventually we took our seats. As the driver revved the engine, the mate tied the
door shut with a piece of twine. Clearly this was a bus that had seen better
days.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And so began the journey.
The bus skidded and bumped along the dirt road to Wa. We waited for two hours
in Wa for no apparent reason. Passengers shouted impatiently at the mate when
they wanted to get off; the driver then shouted at him for making the bus stop
too many times. The sun cooked the inside of the bus and my t-shirt began to
melt into my skin. The wooden seat got harder with every tedious mile. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The bus stopped and
everyone got out for a piss beside the road: men beside the bus, women behind
the trees. We got back on and continued through the endless scrub forest of the
Ashanti region. By this stage the driver was at the point of killing his poor
mate, and I would have probably joined in, just for so</span>mething to break the tedium.
Eventually the bus entered the suburbs of Kumasi; relief was tempered by the
thought that we were still at least five hours from home.<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Nearly 22 hours after leaving
Hamale, we reach the capital. I was exhausted, foul-tempered and even
fouler-smelling. It was an unforgettable journey, despite nothing happening.
And one that I never want to repeat, although it did create an unusual feeling
– I was pleased to be back in <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/search/label/Accra" target="_blank">Accra</a>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9q0ZGm_IfV-ENXz29Tak8EkSQX01dx1XpPVPsI-ppRnGjAuSy1e20lGj-95EFJtxD-dOGjNF5KHVE3V5aS7wVLVDkDRDD7EvKyg5m5vYsAZnDcXvetBydq8i60xR3OgVV0Um9Z0sr2qs/s1600/IMGP4401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9q0ZGm_IfV-ENXz29Tak8EkSQX01dx1XpPVPsI-ppRnGjAuSy1e20lGj-95EFJtxD-dOGjNF5KHVE3V5aS7wVLVDkDRDD7EvKyg5m5vYsAZnDcXvetBydq8i60xR3OgVV0Um9Z0sr2qs/s1600/IMGP4401.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Home sweet home</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-71919937337010362622013-07-12T07:34:00.000-07:002014-07-23T07:44:05.718-07:00Burkina Faso part IV: Domes<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXQeQtXs88tf6n-YdZKIgKXhdOFP4v4K2hniB1fbs6uXKP_VwAtNcKEbukMYdU0XslMdzLhKAKAiHV3EKWt6jKsO72Kc-c72e4eroyimt4MpIkQUyET6VWc2Cxa5h_vFXrag4ctoPsazA/s1600/IMG_2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXQeQtXs88tf6n-YdZKIgKXhdOFP4v4K2hniB1fbs6uXKP_VwAtNcKEbukMYdU0XslMdzLhKAKAiHV3EKWt6jKsO72Kc-c72e4eroyimt4MpIkQUyET6VWc2Cxa5h_vFXrag4ctoPsazA/s1600/IMG_2017.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Karfiguela Falls</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After a peaceful evening
spent sipping Brukina beer – one of West Africa’s finest brews – and nibbling
groundnuts in the gardens of <a href="http://www.hotel-calypso.com/" target="_blank">Le Calypso</a>, Hannah and I awoke slowly the next
morning and ambled down to breakfast. After two years in Ghana, our body clocks
were set to GMT – Ghana Maybe Time – so the pre-arranged 9.00am meeting time
was treated as little more than a vague suggestion. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But Burkina Faso is not
Ghana. On the dot of the hour, Metina, our tour guide, hurried into the hotel
grounds to see where we were. Burkinabes pride themselves on punctuality; we
had noticed already that the buses leave on time, rather than when they are full,
when the driver wakes up, etc. We scoffed down the fresh baguettes and coffee while
Metina chatted to the hotel’s owner – another of his contacts on Banfora’s informal
tourism network.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmGH4PjIOvJzE-vbG0wJv6eoaHmEMa6PWF5_GodvCvu1KutVmGLekbLgjSQtv4Gkm6mmgV7bWATzcHz6xSj6uGYFqFplVjBYr_NDM3zsrk26CwpwzXoZ4TVpsQ-yq28Gz05dOSos-1PFg/s1600/IMG_2026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmGH4PjIOvJzE-vbG0wJv6eoaHmEMa6PWF5_GodvCvu1KutVmGLekbLgjSQtv4Gkm6mmgV7bWATzcHz6xSj6uGYFqFplVjBYr_NDM3zsrk26CwpwzXoZ4TVpsQ-yq28Gz05dOSos-1PFg/s1600/IMG_2026.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Pools</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">July is the rainy season
in this part of West Africa, the hot days interspersed with welcome bursts. But
with few roads properly surfaced, many resembled a thick porridge after the
heavy downpours. Metina guided us expertly through the worst ponds, over
rickety bridges and through the numerous herds of cows being led to new
pastures, waving to the herdsmen as we passed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The recent rains also
meant that Karfiguéla Falls, the next stop on our two-day tour, were at their
most resplendent. We pulled into the car park and Metina introduced us to the
group of young men who scratch a living guiding the region’s infrequent tourists
to the nearby falls. Handshakes all round, and we set off along the mango
tree-lined path.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG6YHPEmNYfeL7bUN4uLM7G2mdJzYGXF74q3KP187w-cVTFtlSCm1pPBWIcE4PqvdgLKC1neao2VlY8uuoTUYDiED2k5ovAec5LcOtJozUfkMUfwyJqPkUc1TTXYuql9aqP6AmQdWVutc/s1600/IMG_2091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG6YHPEmNYfeL7bUN4uLM7G2mdJzYGXF74q3KP187w-cVTFtlSCm1pPBWIcE4PqvdgLKC1neao2VlY8uuoTUYDiED2k5ovAec5LcOtJozUfkMUfwyJqPkUc1TTXYuql9aqP6AmQdWVutc/s1600/IMG_2091.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sugar cane</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Our young guide was keen
to show us the base of the falls first. “You must see the top and the bottom”,
he said, without explaining why, exactly. But storms had brought down several
trees, meaning we had to pick our way through fallen branches and leaves to get
there. Unfortunately, soldier ants had wasted little time setting up camp in
the foliage and objected strongly to us passing through their new home. I’m not
sure if there is an international scale for measuring the painfulness of ant
bites, but if there is, then these lads must be near the top.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Hannah and I retreated
quickly but the guide was insistent: we had to visit the lower falls for the
perfect photo opportunity. As the ants split up into two groups, one for each
leg, more schoolboy French came flooding back: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Je ne veux pas un photo; je vais maintenant</i>”. It’s amazing how much
actually sinks in at school, even when you’re not listening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The chocolate-brown water
cascading through the upper falls didn’t look too inviting, but with burning ant
bites to soothe, I stripped off quickly and slid in. The curved rocks, worn
smooth with the water, provided handy entrance points, plus some underwater
seats to lie back and admire the view.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3XoUhC300GCybCxTaj5Ns3UeEok2MFbsn0cfXAI9olg2B_ZqE83rhLEW5Wwq9Mo0msF9sbRWdP_-wkG9_a6PSzbXTJXm5itQpS6Tx5TkYKxUZOnL89iQIfPwy70LWoq-7NN-ajnjIULM/s1600/IMG_2032.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3XoUhC300GCybCxTaj5Ns3UeEok2MFbsn0cfXAI9olg2B_ZqE83rhLEW5Wwq9Mo0msF9sbRWdP_-wkG9_a6PSzbXTJXm5itQpS6Tx5TkYKxUZOnL89iQIfPwy70LWoq-7NN-ajnjIULM/s1600/IMG_2032.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Not as high as it looks</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And we could admire it in
solitude. This is one of the country’s most popular tourist attractions, but
even on this weekend morning it was far from crowded. The few visitors – a
group of American volunteers, a large family from Ouagadougou, and a local
church group – spread out among the chocolate-filled pools, each finding their
own private section to bathe and picnic. This is one of the benefits of
visiting Burkina Faso – the country’s spectacular natural attractions have yet
to become overcrowded or over-developed. Facilities rarely extend between a
local person to show you the way and a few plastic tables and chairs for
enjoying cold drinks and simple meals.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaCnktk-d-LFiF9fyFqRNQFA2DfmDj1rrlA6i3s5ycDEWPb7_jQ__naLjANNUYH_XckVYmz8kq-WXVcreG_pHuhc6lT1-7lKzYv6IhgcM7ZCFHrQwtCNPhGi62L8ndKc3cwOmcEmM0LDo/s1600/IMG_2067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaCnktk-d-LFiF9fyFqRNQFA2DfmDj1rrlA6i3s5ycDEWPb7_jQ__naLjANNUYH_XckVYmz8kq-WXVcreG_pHuhc6lT1-7lKzYv6IhgcM7ZCFHrQwtCNPhGi62L8ndKc3cwOmcEmM0LDo/s1600/IMG_2067.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Domes</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Metina has spent 20 years
driving tourists around Banfora and he knows how to plan a tour. The car weaved
through fields of bright green sugarcane, vibrant in the midday sun, until we
reached the entrance to the best of all the sights around Banfora – the Domes
of Fabedougou. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">They are a truly
remarkable sight. Over 1.8 million years ago, layer upon layer of sediment was
laid down. These have since eroded to form a jumble of giant stone teacakes,
all tumbling down a hillside with patches of forest clinging into the gaps.
They demand exploration; even Metina eschewed his usual car-seat nap to come
with us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After two hours clambering
about the domes alone (Metina had taken his nap on the first dome we climbed), we
reluctantly descended. The heat was rising and there was a Brukina with my name
on it waiting at the hotel. Tourism is coming slowly to Banfora, and in time
its nearby attractions will get the visitor numbers needed to boost the local
economy. But having had the rare experience of exploring this phenomenal
natural wonder in solitude, I could only be thankful that they hadn’t come just
yet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3W_nMEn87MUYT4Hf_w9ql3Yt1X7WRwVslz9zXQ2DRZfJQqW-kvix5zpRkHtozRLg6UTXGUs7vX1NvkZVqRJmBaXPTTkUvOfeHm3SsjppOWjjHZFm2nDkRaR3VkPp8qdBwlzCeXDF7YE/s1600/IMG_2040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB3W_nMEn87MUYT4Hf_w9ql3Yt1X7WRwVslz9zXQ2DRZfJQqW-kvix5zpRkHtozRLg6UTXGUs7vX1NvkZVqRJmBaXPTTkUvOfeHm3SsjppOWjjHZFm2nDkRaR3VkPp8qdBwlzCeXDF7YE/s1600/IMG_2040.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-85885247342531981042013-07-11T06:25:00.000-07:002014-07-18T06:38:15.873-07:00Burkina Faso pt III: Peaks<div class="MsoNormal">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxgr3PbX4AKodl-fcYiY2QQ5inaOs0jpLtBXzMeFfeOVhoAhpHZCJ-A0s8jNyRXDnqgRWU3LVPe3rqBCvXQKxhCBvCuMUj_y2llNb1rgYn4h3kz7SnkesN-97E0jNuTM7ADfgA8C-PZwM/s1600/IMG_1815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxgr3PbX4AKodl-fcYiY2QQ5inaOs0jpLtBXzMeFfeOVhoAhpHZCJ-A0s8jNyRXDnqgRWU3LVPe3rqBCvXQKxhCBvCuMUj_y2llNb1rgYn4h3kz7SnkesN-97E0jNuTM7ADfgA8C-PZwM/s1600/IMG_1815.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sindou Peaks</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The Sindou Peaks in
southwest Burkina Faso are an astonishing geological spectacle. Across the
millennia, the elements have carved these giant columns into a stunning array
of shapes and sculptures. Today, these dazzling maroon formations are a
giddying sight, enough to send you head over heels – and straight down the
rocks below.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Sandstone may be the
perfect material for allowing Mother Nature to get creative, but the small pile
of dust and blood at my feet proved that its structural qualities are less
noteworthy. “Some of the rocks are not very strong”, confirmed Paul, our guide,
in French. Helpful advice, especially when delivered <u>before</u> you start
climbing them.<span style="background: yellow; mso-highlight: yellow;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwcwr3gVnxtWG79Y958nlWbCRY9gTHVvj_e9J7LIOWa3ZkVw9ydKM7Tb2DpJRWBvh1S9wlVRPkI3uX0b4v14cQ6V64f4TOj8BP-2a1FTDFo7nrNx7S5ULeVrK-yssyzVaaEvLdKsHgUqU/s1600/IMG_1834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwcwr3gVnxtWG79Y958nlWbCRY9gTHVvj_e9J7LIOWa3ZkVw9ydKM7Tb2DpJRWBvh1S9wlVRPkI3uX0b4v14cQ6V64f4TOj8BP-2a1FTDFo7nrNx7S5ULeVrK-yssyzVaaEvLdKsHgUqU/s1600/IMG_1834.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Ow</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Once my cuts were cleaned
and I’d checked my ego for bruising, Paul continued our walk. He led us nimbly
through the crevasses to the best vantage points from which to appreciate the
surrounding Senoufo villages and lush farmland, vibrant with tall stalks of
sugar cane. Looking out, he explained how entire villages trek into the hills
for religious ceremonies. Tourists used to be allowed to attend these, and even
camp on the plateau, but visits are now limited to day treks. “The campers left
too much rubbish”, Paul said, solemnly. “People didn’t respect the importance of
this place.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4iLoKCfz9Dtdj5RAm15JA2sVo-rBkNmeKSLagQaXRLVEOHChPEjBrxn7GjcZIpoBcRFGR2GPQyRfMr9nAlITCGO-ks9Kic5q8mEPCbDPB650_pYEZ1uW3i6lqssB4NgsXtFxvTwg2NQ/s1600/IMG_1833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU4iLoKCfz9Dtdj5RAm15JA2sVo-rBkNmeKSLagQaXRLVEOHChPEjBrxn7GjcZIpoBcRFGR2GPQyRfMr9nAlITCGO-ks9Kic5q8mEPCbDPB650_pYEZ1uW3i6lqssB4NgsXtFxvTwg2NQ/s1600/IMG_1833.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hiking through the peaks</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After two hours of
exploring, we descended back to our car. Hannah and I had been a little daunted
about heading out into rural Burkina Faso. It’s one of Africa’s poorest
countries, and there is little in the way of organised tours. But an unofficial
grapevine exists between the excellent hotels in the southwest region. The
manager of the Villa Bobo hotel in Bobo Diolasso had made all our arrangements
in advance, and Metina, our affable driver, had met us at Banfora’s scruffy bus
station. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The haggling for our
two-day tour around the region had been simple. Metina had typed a figure into
his calculator – 50,000 CFA (around £65) for two days including petrol – and we
had quickly agreed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He used the
calculator because he couldn’t read or write, and later told us that he used
the money from his tours to pay for his grandchildren – 37 and counting – to go
to school so they could learn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1VLR63Ze18yB6liH9nlmkTZrReZ6McRonJVJtqFmors7Lzsm1ARy38GaiN0DUlV2oNiuImeiNpO5ZXMGouNjPnHj6C09AhlCOXwmISmO1iGUD56j4CbmvExOhCRktA9Y0tDpKrvutVI/s1600/IMG_1934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo1VLR63Ze18yB6liH9nlmkTZrReZ6McRonJVJtqFmors7Lzsm1ARy38GaiN0DUlV2oNiuImeiNpO5ZXMGouNjPnHj6C09AhlCOXwmISmO1iGUD56j4CbmvExOhCRktA9Y0tDpKrvutVI/s1600/IMG_1934.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hippos</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After the morning’s
rock-climbing-and-falling excitement, the second stop on Banfora’s tourist circuit
was far more leisurely: a trip to see the hippos on Tengréla Lake. As at
Sindou, the facilities for tourists were basic but well organised. Metina
introduced us to the owners of the small guesthouse on the lake shore. Five
minutes later, we set off in a hand-carved pirogue for the northern end of the
lake, while he kicked back with a coke. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">For anyone used to safaris
in East or Southern Africa, wildlife watching in West Africa is a remarkably
health-and-safety-free experience. We glided silently through the water lilies
resting on the lake until we could see the hippos right in front of us. Then we
went a bit closer. Then closer still. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8SPN9qW6WobeKNjbZ2Ihk652Zjpw9YWpc0ycBgwQtLPWMcqB-oDRax45EbWxfDJeXXHbIUxqe3jCaQWHt13Z_QtMr9YtstPdf6Qev2uhOjRVVUOsf8dgFvZPt6hR-n3Dem0tR4GElss/s1600/IMG_1976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn8SPN9qW6WobeKNjbZ2Ihk652Zjpw9YWpc0ycBgwQtLPWMcqB-oDRax45EbWxfDJeXXHbIUxqe3jCaQWHt13Z_QtMr9YtstPdf6Qev2uhOjRVVUOsf8dgFvZPt6hR-n3Dem0tR4GElss/s1600/IMG_1976.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-small;">Now that's a hat</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">With our boatman showing
little sign of stopping, I urgently recalled enough French to ask, as calmly as
possible: “Is this close enough?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“It’s ok, the hippos are
happy today,” replied our guide nonchalantly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I’m not entirely sure how
you gauge the mood of a pod of hippos just from their ears, which were all that
showed above the water’s surface. But my French definitely wasn’t up to asking,
so instead, we watched the huge beasts from just a few metres away. I divided
my time between taking photos and calculating if I could paddle to the shore faster
than a hippo could swim, should something snap one of them from his good humour.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Hours drift by peacefully at
Tengréla. Herons waded through the shallows, competing for the lake’s fish with
the local men. Hornbills peeped loudly from the trees overhanging the lake. Children
waved frantically as they made their way home from school – white tourists are
still a novelty here. The sun pounded down relentlessly. After two hours, it
had become too hot and we turned back for a cooling drink. The hippos had
barely twitched so much as an ear; perhaps that’s how you tell that they’re
content.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqvMDgmgruj0-MaFH7ZadK80v8bd8t9jsaB4qMWh3QuCithffG2tYBd4opruKdwDEYEM2ISe3FGO4zFjLAYuWAvymnHjM9xSuCWdAGDjsfPfNi_bF38JfZswOImvD09w-CFaFkzfcFf3w/s1600/IMG_1985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqvMDgmgruj0-MaFH7ZadK80v8bd8t9jsaB4qMWh3QuCithffG2tYBd4opruKdwDEYEM2ISe3FGO4zFjLAYuWAvymnHjM9xSuCWdAGDjsfPfNi_bF38JfZswOImvD09w-CFaFkzfcFf3w/s1600/IMG_1985.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A cow</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-44682083854708072302013-07-09T11:37:00.000-07:002013-07-25T07:36:33.241-07:00Burkina Faso pt II: Films<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd0IlA5ihwji0dElFQdE04jpCCFharQOD7_8j_0_eqCo4q_7xv351_7IuwVkkaNET8Vx-Mng_HHY447vAbreTwXJEmFJssD4PQxRXtTxHg1AGws3DxR_VB8U62y6AhFcT7HELvv0cQnVo/s1600/IMG_1651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd0IlA5ihwji0dElFQdE04jpCCFharQOD7_8j_0_eqCo4q_7xv351_7IuwVkkaNET8Vx-Mng_HHY447vAbreTwXJEmFJssD4PQxRXtTxHg1AGws3DxR_VB8U62y6AhFcT7HELvv0cQnVo/s1600/IMG_1651.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The film poster</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As a geeky teenager,
Ouagadougou was my barometer. I would ask new acquaintances what the capital of
Burkina Faso was; if they knew the answer, I was confident that this was a chap
with a solid grasp of useless geographical facts, someone I could get along
with. (And it was always chaps; I quickly learnt that this sort of thing didn’t
impress girls. At all.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Visiting the quirkily
named city as a geeky 35-year-old, I was slightly underwhelmed. Not
disappointed – it’s a friendly place and less stressful than other African
cities I have been to – but it doesn’t take long to realise that
there’s not much to it. The owner of the <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.de/2013/07/burkina-faso-pt-1-nazinga.html" target="_blank">Tiandora Esperance</a> hotel in Po had said
Accra was “like America”. I had laughed at the time (perhaps a little too
loudly) but I could now see his point. No sleek cars, no high-rise buildings,
no smart cafes; it all felt very sleepy compared to Ghana’s rapidly expanding
capital.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OhyphenhyphenG2HDJN9i28BHE6bTFsyKBI4qsxcXApRKzNJn5qKdAO7Afm2oQC3XI9WGTPpg8bctXVYLUaEAasQlMzUWL4q_wsHOfUD8XMMRBDGK3OlJ-vHrdvzFmLGft6m7W80zU9TRmeyjJAPc/s1600/IMG_1654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OhyphenhyphenG2HDJN9i28BHE6bTFsyKBI4qsxcXApRKzNJn5qKdAO7Afm2oQC3XI9WGTPpg8bctXVYLUaEAasQlMzUWL4q_wsHOfUD8XMMRBDGK3OlJ-vHrdvzFmLGft6m7W80zU9TRmeyjJAPc/s1600/IMG_1654.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Kids in Ouagadougou</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">One thing for which Ouaga
is famous is its <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/global-development/poverty-matters/2013/mar/01/burkina-faso-film-festival-conscience" target="_blank">film festival</a> and cinematic outputs, regarded as the best in
West Africa. Not that this is a huge accolade; the region’s most popular films
come from <a href="http://www.nollywood.com/" target="_blank">Nollywood</a> and are, without exception, complete and utter shite. The typical
Nigerian film – and I have had to sit through many on long bus journeys – is a poorly
shot, badly acted story of domestic violence, devils being cast out,
ridiculously bloody murders, and usually contain a good smattering of comedy dwarfs,
wizards and diabolical special effects. Throw in the ubiquitous pisspoor sound
quality and shaky cameras and you have two very long hours to endure.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Having scoped out one of
Ouaga’s outdoor cinemas earlier in the day, Hannah and I were surprised to find
it locked up and in darkness when we turned up for 7pm, when the film was
supposed to start. But on the dot of the hour – people are very punctual in
Burkina Faso – the curator toddled up on his bike, smiled at us and unlocked
the doors. Silently, he set up the projector, slipped in the disc and we were
off. No popcorn, no trailers, no fuss. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2cgVaQ0gDlpEKVyhNy_3z8ohz4ohY5K6pvnHeCWUZ4wP8n2jDj9ynzkyiOFb8x0xxXL0cBSadyLQVPqdDW8Ljh9YQtplesbrwLgMEyTXEoW4HBkBgHQeXz7Km5zOT4_efzJCMaBSv9dg/s1600/IMG_1690.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2cgVaQ0gDlpEKVyhNy_3z8ohz4ohY5K6pvnHeCWUZ4wP8n2jDj9ynzkyiOFb8x0xxXL0cBSadyLQVPqdDW8Ljh9YQtplesbrwLgMEyTXEoW4HBkBgHQeXz7Km5zOT4_efzJCMaBSv9dg/s1600/IMG_1690.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The big screen</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And the film was good.
Despite being in French, I managed to get the gist of the plot. A wife makes a
love potion for her elderly husband, to put a bit of lead into his drooping
pencil. But rather than reaping the rewards herself, he uses his new ‘powers’
with a string of younger, prettier women, at the suggestion of his best friend.
The wife, understandably, is a bit upset and the friend feels a bit guilty. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Then, husband’s new ‘girlfriend’
is mugged in the street (by a man who, for some reason, is dressed like Noddy
Holder). A brave mechanic working nearby rescues her, and she falls in love
with him. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcjFbHJCzPPS5AU20s8hgDteZIpJgD0VWimZZ-V6q2LkMqlHeqPhbwIr4q1dKmSZ4imDBa2bRMTpdb5xucbztntu2ZFgNs762S3b3eb6tMbwz5Ens0DFn8jprfmxS7g12JES-Gwjgc_O4/s1600/IMG_1688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcjFbHJCzPPS5AU20s8hgDteZIpJgD0VWimZZ-V6q2LkMqlHeqPhbwIr4q1dKmSZ4imDBa2bRMTpdb5xucbztntu2ZFgNs762S3b3eb6tMbwz5Ens0DFn8jprfmxS7g12JES-Gwjgc_O4/s1600/IMG_1688.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sunset in Ouaga</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">At this point, it got a
bit confusing. The husband and his friend have an argument and, possibly with
an eye on their potential Nigerian audience, there is a random dwarf with magic
powers who vanishes into thin air. But by the end, the husband is sorry, the
girlfriend marries her mechanic boyfriend, and then comes to apologise to the
older man’s wife for sleeping with her husband (as is only polite, after all). </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The cinematography was excellent,
the acting was good and it didn’t go on too long. No one screamed, no one died
and no one went mad with a scythe. And it was all enjoyed beneath the stars on
a clear night in Ouagadougou. It may be faint praise, like being crowned the
prettiest slug or most talented Spice Girl, but there is little doubt that
Burkina Faso’s films are far and away the best in the region.</span></div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-62102727428685510732013-07-04T07:56:00.000-07:002013-07-22T08:17:05.467-07:00Burkina Faso pt 1: Nazinga<style>
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<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYpPrzkzdhmzuv6ho6aXyvLL1lwBClzMQKTGfTtbpmf-iJ1xShEsWa2Cu-jdrZHbnZJbNEDiYmJgE1ICfeeo1hUr7-mdgCnbCk4Fsedk1Xuyh4YVPCUS3R2AuHF63OMFLrC3RQ7UnAUg/s1600/IMG_1573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdYpPrzkzdhmzuv6ho6aXyvLL1lwBClzMQKTGfTtbpmf-iJ1xShEsWa2Cu-jdrZHbnZJbNEDiYmJgE1ICfeeo1hUr7-mdgCnbCk4Fsedk1Xuyh4YVPCUS3R2AuHF63OMFLrC3RQ7UnAUg/s1600/IMG_1573.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Elephants</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Safaris in West Africa are
different to those in East or southern Africa. There are no big cats in the
reserves (none that you see, at least); the camps tend to be basic concrete
rooms rather than luxury tents; and there is a wonderful disregard for health
and safety. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBRwHBspRp1D1JOPf2BPCRiSwv-aeqxE5m2TuPEW2Vrpb61WBuosiPzFP5gmBISHt6bm8MHBazRLQFgCT9QpzMSGElepdAnUF3lA0hsbUypZvNuVM20nzVy8XuqAO_ohXxl7zP3jd_Un0/s1600/IMG_1551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBRwHBspRp1D1JOPf2BPCRiSwv-aeqxE5m2TuPEW2Vrpb61WBuosiPzFP5gmBISHt6bm8MHBazRLQFgCT9QpzMSGElepdAnUF3lA0hsbUypZvNuVM20nzVy8XuqAO_ohXxl7zP3jd_Un0/s1600/IMG_1551.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A ground hornbill</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Finding elephants on a
safari in Kenya a few years ago, our driver kept his vehicle in reverse, ready
to make a swift retreat if necessary. But when we discovered a small herd in
Burkina Faso’s <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nazinga_Game_Ranch" target="_blank">Nazinga Game Ranch</a>, our driver simply parked up and got out; I
half-expected him to pull out a picnic rug. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmaQXYAchIBfUCeJ52MF8kBkH3bLofBv_uNO58uBb_0hNkql-o5Yetw1grWykL_85XnAHhyphenhyphenP1luiiZ1cdXCYbO3VcpykSTLaJL4vnnIw39dky0xQO4_4OiTgqYS4yFuV1z8b5c6Pr7op8/s1600/IMG_1556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmaQXYAchIBfUCeJ52MF8kBkH3bLofBv_uNO58uBb_0hNkql-o5Yetw1grWykL_85XnAHhyphenhyphenP1luiiZ1cdXCYbO3VcpykSTLaJL4vnnIw39dky0xQO4_4OiTgqYS4yFuV1z8b5c6Pr7op8/s1600/IMG_1556.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Hammerkop</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">They had taken a bit of
finding. Nazinga is rarely visited, so there is no network of guides radioing
each other with sightings; it’s just a question of luck whether you see them or
not. After two hours’ rattling around dirt roads in a decrepit 4x4 (doors held
on by string, cardboard for the rear window), we had seen hammerkops and
bizarre-looking ground hornbills, but no sign of the elephants. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLcq0ZI_N0E7ya0U98Wnbu4iFKt9pto-mGne_FqQ_nhcVEI3gU5ZzY2KFwgKd3ozAG40iblKkgF6oT2FO2tN9dUfdlDAlXnRhTDHXOqInIICHBEW9Vc-JQfRo1HW-ckwOQxdNB7SEzCeQ/s1600/IMG_1561.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLcq0ZI_N0E7ya0U98Wnbu4iFKt9pto-mGne_FqQ_nhcVEI3gU5ZzY2KFwgKd3ozAG40iblKkgF6oT2FO2tN9dUfdlDAlXnRhTDHXOqInIICHBEW9Vc-JQfRo1HW-ckwOQxdNB7SEzCeQ/s1600/IMG_1561.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Our transport</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I was thinking we
were going to be unlucky; the elephants tend to head into the bush during the rainy season. But then our guide spotted them. He led
Hannah and I slowly through the trees to get a better view as they trudged
slowly towards a nearby water hole. One of the larger females eyed us warily as
we approached, and a couple of them turned ominously towards us. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Our guide led us quickly
onto the road; were we sensibly returning to the relative safety of the
vehicle? Not a bit of it: we crouched down on the open road and watched, from
no more than 10 metres away, as the giants thundered across before us, more than
20 animals in total. It was a brief encounter, but one well worth the effort of
travelling to this remote </span>corner of Burkina Faso.<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO7OvWoWrIbcGjT1gHS2xAcBNtnhPG7MFtx8hoVp9Hb5tmScgDHakLS0LyVM-FGPNqTU1d_yMyT-Xo_YAMaal3bPWsh3D2gGlN9GjbeQkZGJ8XBNO_ML7-OrntLVVnY70sIF0CRmFGbSg/s1600/IMG_1580.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO7OvWoWrIbcGjT1gHS2xAcBNtnhPG7MFtx8hoVp9Hb5tmScgDHakLS0LyVM-FGPNqTU1d_yMyT-Xo_YAMaal3bPWsh3D2gGlN9GjbeQkZGJ8XBNO_ML7-OrntLVVnY70sIF0CRmFGbSg/s1600/IMG_1580.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Why did the elephant cross the road?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-76566520043086350532013-06-11T15:08:00.000-07:002013-06-11T23:59:59.745-07:00Logic<style>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDqRePQ9Nh-QSznYlEqz0ZnT-S8a9nYybNan0HMgXXMShMdkdIE1WUIvQZWNNQsy3770Sb6Jcsvn2piF25zjbaNZXZue4IrgobClcm-a2p41NqlSjQLmDSGsJ200rSGRNJ7hx65K9hDc4/s1600/PB130394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDqRePQ9Nh-QSznYlEqz0ZnT-S8a9nYybNan0HMgXXMShMdkdIE1WUIvQZWNNQsy3770Sb6Jcsvn2piF25zjbaNZXZue4IrgobClcm-a2p41NqlSjQLmDSGsJ200rSGRNJ7hx65K9hDc4/s1600/PB130394.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It's not all bad</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After nearly two years in
Ghana, I have seen a lot of the country, learnt a few words of Twi (about five), and tasted
all that Ghanaian cuisine has to offer me – not much, being vegetarian. But I
could live here another 20 years and still not master Ghanaian logic.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The taxi journey last
night was a prime example. Walking to pick up a takeaway at Noble House, an
Indian restaurant near the local A&C shopping mall, I heard the familiar
parp of the horn. I said where I was going.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“You are going to A&C
mall?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“No, a restaurant near
there.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“OK, 6 cedis to the mall.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“Fine, but it’s not
actually the mall. It’s nearby. OK?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“You know the way? I don’t
know it.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“Yes, I know, let’s go.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">He asked directions all
the way, and then pulled up at the mall. No, I repeated, I’m not going to the
mall; it’s a restaurant nearby. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“Oh, I have to pick
someone up and I’m late. You said you knew the way.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“I do, just take the next
turn right.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“Left?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“No, right.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“Right?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“Yes, right.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“OK, right.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We turned left. Past an enormous, garage-sized ‘Noble House’ sign with a bright red arrow pointing the other way.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“It’s the other way.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“No, nothing is down that road.
It’s this way.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“But you said you don’t
know where it is.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“I know it’s not that way.
Nothing is that way.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We got there eventually. I
had to pay him eight cedis; not only did I not know the way, I had made him
late for collecting his passenger. Taxi drivers in Accra drive a hard bargain.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">***</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5rdSU5ZTwjm5LDTMnxA2ANWflQ1rPvTvoIFUYLeqADCOHYULckeCSnNxyjYJwMxp3xHLsRvhjfWLM4quwi-aOBrRPGFz1IMLz7LDYcFsppHUKEGU1He4LXyOtU1GRMfJ5YevfJ9fajs/s1600/IMG_6377.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5rdSU5ZTwjm5LDTMnxA2ANWflQ1rPvTvoIFUYLeqADCOHYULckeCSnNxyjYJwMxp3xHLsRvhjfWLM4quwi-aOBrRPGFz1IMLz7LDYcFsppHUKEGU1He4LXyOtU1GRMfJ5YevfJ9fajs/s1600/IMG_6377.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Where are the spuds?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">New arrivals are just as
easily caught out. Our friends Lilly and Ole came for two weeks last year, and
after a dusty trip to <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/04/elephants.html" target="_blank">Mole</a>, we retreated to relax at Till’s No.1, a beach
resort just outside Accra. Owned by a German, the menu has a
better-than-average selection. After a week of yam chips and fried rice in the
north, Lilly spied the fresh green salad – lettuce, tomato, eggs and boiled
potatoes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">One hour later (the standard
waiting time for food in <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/07/baboons.html" target="_blank">most Ghanaian hotels</a>), out came the meals, including
her salad – minus the spuds. She asked where they were; “Oh, coming, coming,”
came the reply from the hurried waiter.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">A further 20 minutes, and
the salad devoured, but still no potatoes. As the plates were cleared, Lilly
asked about them. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“Oh, please, no potatoes
with salad,” said our smiling waiter. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“But the menu says
potatoes”, replied Lilly (the chips I had eaten proved they weren’t ‘finished’).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“No, this salad doesn’t
come with potatoes.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“It says on the menu,
though – lettuce, tomato, egg and boiled potatoes.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“Oh, please, everyone here
knows this plate doesn’t come with potatoes. You can ask my friends.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuThAUmytDW3uwnipg1W-qoqEuPutfdFC7Z1pgDTt8S2fU3tTduuv-j4z8jQViqzsHMs7EYx6KOlsK6SlCf6VNv86TCqTqe9sKeMu97NTpNXceSHHlhdaHJX6OWOuyIUCYTiiqB9iVWrI/s1600/IMG_8752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuThAUmytDW3uwnipg1W-qoqEuPutfdFC7Z1pgDTt8S2fU3tTduuv-j4z8jQViqzsHMs7EYx6KOlsK6SlCf6VNv86TCqTqe9sKeMu97NTpNXceSHHlhdaHJX6OWOuyIUCYTiiqB9iVWrI/s1600/IMG_8752.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sunset at Tills</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Simple logic: why on earth
would a guest expect potatoes when the staff all knew the menu was wrong? To be
fair, the waiter probably had the stronger case this time; most Ghanaian menus
are as grounded in reality as the average Noddy story. “It is finished,” is a refrain </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">common </span>to anyone eating out. It’s difficult to believe some dishes ever
‘started’.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The moment I knew I would
never get my head around the Ghanaian way of thinking was in Shoprite, Accra’s
low-cost, poor-quality South African supermarket in the city’s main shopping
mall. It had been a stressful Saturday morning, full of typical expat problems:
the air-con was broken; the waitress brought the wrong coffee; it was too damn
hot, again. Sweating and in a bad mood, I went to buy the week’s groceries
before retreating home to watch Coronation Street on Youtube. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Vegetables are weighed and
priced by a bored-looking shop assistant, but when I handed him my mango, he
gave it back: “It must be in a plastic bag”. Refusing bags for single
items is my own futile gesture towards reducing Ghana’s phenomenal plastic
waste, but I knew it wasn’t worth arguing. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In between me getting a
bag and returning, a Chinese couple had sneaked into the queue with half a
trolley’s worth of veg. Swearing quietly and trying to stay calm, I impatiently
waited my turn, then unloaded my basket of veg … only to find an unbagged
avocado at the bottom. Swearing quite loudly this time, I went to get yet another
bag, only to be stopped.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“That doesn’t need a bag”,
said the assistant.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“Why did the mango then?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">He gave me the smiling, ‘what’s
he on about?’ look that is a common Ghanaian response to irate obronis making a
fuss about nothing. I tried again, this time with props.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“What is the difference
between this (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">holding up bagged mango</i>)
and this (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">holding up unbagged,
similarly-sized avocado</i>)?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">“That one is a mango… and
that one is an avocado” he answered.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Beaten again by Ghanaian
logic.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-lgTHdrBHDZHQC9fvbafN-OuAYjWvdST5dz2MaapNcXU0Xeh9mlyEKCFbK3wXWbc5bXu8xzzZsW_OG9Wh3sKHe75Lh2pP-KHnQrCLgvsjqR6o3jTfGFs6639IZ4zak-gVPOtMyECIXFY/s1600/IMG_8786.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-lgTHdrBHDZHQC9fvbafN-OuAYjWvdST5dz2MaapNcXU0Xeh9mlyEKCFbK3wXWbc5bXu8xzzZsW_OG9Wh3sKHe75Lh2pP-KHnQrCLgvsjqR6o3jTfGFs6639IZ4zak-gVPOtMyECIXFY/s1600/IMG_8786.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Spot the difference</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-55654990014140010892013-06-10T10:15:00.001-07:002013-06-10T10:16:37.409-07:00Hawkers<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgFo7Up9JymFZ3GlQINL3txkI-8Tj3iBCSTvEg-fOgCfKpjBpe3bew2_gWLanm4Y9pQVXukoR9cQmFqX1XI3Y67ueVATEEekaTCsT3-qdcFSMnu_vyoM3xaZPRNKzyTXzZqp2ZBjq6Mac/s1600/PB110355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgFo7Up9JymFZ3GlQINL3txkI-8Tj3iBCSTvEg-fOgCfKpjBpe3bew2_gWLanm4Y9pQVXukoR9cQmFqX1XI3Y67ueVATEEekaTCsT3-qdcFSMnu_vyoM3xaZPRNKzyTXzZqp2ZBjq6Mac/s1600/PB110355.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">What connects mobile phone
credit, 500 ml sachets of purified water, and a framed hologram of Christ on
the cross? Answer – they can all be bought on the streets of Accra. Along with
bush meat. And fried plantain chips. And huge maps of Ghana. And Chinese-made neck
massagers. And sliced papaya. And self-help books, bottles of fresh coconut
water, new windscreen wiper blades, frozen yoghurts…</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The capital’s street
traders, known as ‘hawkers’, sell these myriad items at every set of traffic
lights and traffic jam that slows cars down long enough for a transaction.
Sometimes only just long enough; a hawker running alongside a car, one hand
collecting change through the window, is a common sight.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Chasing cars isn’t the
only hazard the hawkers face. They must dodge quickly out of the way when the
traffic starts moving: not easy with an overflowing basket of oranges balanced
on your head. And spending 12 hours a day amid the city’s vehicle fumes can’t
be healthy. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Several women, men and children
trade at the end of my road in the suburb of East Legon. While buying phone
credit one morning, I asked the seller, John Abatey, how much he earns. “I get
four cedis (about £1.30) for every 100 cedis of credit I sell. Most days, I
sell around 500 cedis.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">My surprise at such a meagre
living must have shown, as he quickly explained that this was a good living. “The
water sellers earn much less,” he told me proudly. Water sells for 10 pesawas
per sachet (around £0.03), with a seller making 1 or 2 pesewas per sale. Buying
one always leaves me with mixed feelings: the empty sachets are one of the
mains culprits in Accra’s wave of plastic pollution, but there’s no denying
that they are instantly refreshing on a scorching day.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ_BeRBrbkDLnF55lZ6j77_3G4o2XLFoNaqVBWuq-oGqJPt8atYnte4uOGWI3I8pxhCfQkNfoYNizyMCpVXK6fOa82eH2zmSoz7dhMHzFaIYXu_j9swv63R4t65HNiNfA6cGxXIGDe2Vo/s1600/PB170535.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ_BeRBrbkDLnF55lZ6j77_3G4o2XLFoNaqVBWuq-oGqJPt8atYnte4uOGWI3I8pxhCfQkNfoYNizyMCpVXK6fOa82eH2zmSoz7dhMHzFaIYXu_j9swv63R4t65HNiNfA6cGxXIGDe2Vo/s1600/PB170535.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">How much longer John and
co. can stay there remains to be seen. The Accra Municipal Authority is
stepping up efforts to clear the streets of hawkers. Their stated aim is to
<a href="http://www.ghanabusinessnews.com/2013/01/29/ama-steadily-dislodging-hawkers-from-accra-streets/" target="_blank">clear the streets to reduce congestion</a>; the suspicion among the hawkers is that
the authorities see them as an untidy blot in a rapidly modernizing city. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If they do disappear, I
will miss them. Not least because of the convenience they offer: I know I don’t
have far to walk whenever I need phone credit. Or some grilled maize. Or a box
of Man Utd tissues. Or a carved wooden mask, a dead rat, a school lunchbox, a
slice of watermelon, a game of Scrabble…</span></div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-52300179065850413982013-06-02T11:57:00.000-07:002013-06-04T12:10:41.042-07:00Togo<style>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zxAM12MHu0hAKOmHCWCwkHVmVee1DWJlIKTZlDQUaKjrbiJLHROd-KONWXUVOx7y_5Iu48Qb2WfBZNTt0TWHx0WEJuTfk1PSpp4WtAsvMnKj8uIw9W4plaEuGx4w5xBjVRmLj_clUbE/s1600/IMG_1333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zxAM12MHu0hAKOmHCWCwkHVmVee1DWJlIKTZlDQUaKjrbiJLHROd-KONWXUVOx7y_5Iu48Qb2WfBZNTt0TWHx0WEJuTfk1PSpp4WtAsvMnKj8uIw9W4plaEuGx4w5xBjVRmLj_clUbE/s1600/IMG_1333.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Nous jouons au babyfoot</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Education experts claim
that schoolchildren in the UK should <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/2011/oct/06/school-languages-close-to-extinction" target="_blank">spend more time learning languages</a> to
bring them up to European standards. Personally I think we should forget
the whole thing; we only end up embarrassing ourselves.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ3jWdgOZquS_04tC3ft2z0S7kA12THYjX-ygytoRXrgK_dRrxVaimEAQOP4oGYjnnrXH9Vp_IJV7sPnEciwkK_irtfgZFdW2XqpIqSiYswxa-zFhYEg9XiToM39PQQBvFHcEJvyxKxPE/s1600/IMG_1408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ3jWdgOZquS_04tC3ft2z0S7kA12THYjX-ygytoRXrgK_dRrxVaimEAQOP4oGYjnnrXH9Vp_IJV7sPnEciwkK_irtfgZFdW2XqpIqSiYswxa-zFhYEg9XiToM39PQQBvFHcEJvyxKxPE/s1600/IMG_1408.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A storm over Lom<i><span style="font-style: normal;">é</span></i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Having just crossed into
Togo from Ghana, Hannah and I were instantly surrounded by moneychangers and
taxi drivers, all yabbering away in French. Maybe due to the excitement of
walking across a national border for the first time, the 50 words of French I learnt
at school instantly flooded back. Where I didn’t know the French word, I
chucked in random bits of German and the odd smattering of Spanish. The gathered
Togolese looked thoroughly bemused, as if faced with a low-budget version of
<a href="http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/C-3PO" target="_blank">C3PO</a> – fully incoherent in three languages. Luckily Hannah’s French course paid
off and she managed to get us a taxi to the <a href="http://www.napotogo.com/" target="_blank">Hotel Napol</a></span><a href="http://www.napotogo.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">é</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;"><a href="http://www.napotogo.com/" target="_blank">on Lagune</a>. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLEx7Cg9EIH5LHlSA49N6kl6shkBeiipIfFBfgjgXxPIecqyDPuBW8y7Q-L8FAzhZpdo1BPSCUa0PTdJpvXCXlwrD806uo2hevbe2JQogRKKWZLDV0B5ISiDhT8fvSrHgPf9A3wc4lTWE/s1600/IMG_1327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLEx7Cg9EIH5LHlSA49N6kl6shkBeiipIfFBfgjgXxPIecqyDPuBW8y7Q-L8FAzhZpdo1BPSCUa0PTdJpvXCXlwrD806uo2hevbe2JQogRKKWZLDV0B5ISiDhT8fvSrHgPf9A3wc4lTWE/s1600/IMG_1327.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Le petit dejeuner</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">A weekend is long enough
to get a taste of Togo, and that taste is fresh cheese, crispy baguettes and
freshly brewed Togolese coffee. I ordered for breakfast the next morning while
waiting for Hannah: “<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X5hrUGFhsXo" target="_blank">Je voudrais mon petit dejeuner</a>” – I was back in full flow
after a good night’s sleep. Togolese breakfasts are a marked step up from Litpon
tea, <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2013/04/omelettes.html" target="_blank">rubber omelettes</a> and sugary stodgy bread served in Ghana’s hotels.
It went down very well as we sat overlooking the B</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">é</span><i><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></i><span style="font-family: Georgia;">Lagoon in the hotel courtyard. Togo grows on you
very quickly, especially at mealtimes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNG5Tpdq3889tB-_ik7TtwXAYXsiw6rmWZJQdOOfjCQa56aqA2WweQHSxK7M0DH9z8w7o4QBqwXcB5wJcyxD_Mg_4Azg-5mNz1jvME0ZakQiUASiKhTG-sBsrA6vDAkrAqrMe_cfEBThU/s1600/IMG_1346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNG5Tpdq3889tB-_ik7TtwXAYXsiw6rmWZJQdOOfjCQa56aqA2WweQHSxK7M0DH9z8w7o4QBqwXcB5wJcyxD_Mg_4Azg-5mNz1jvME0ZakQiUASiKhTG-sBsrA6vDAkrAqrMe_cfEBThU/s1600/IMG_1346.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"...and smile..."</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Less appetizing was the
city’s major attraction, the <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/shared/spl/hi/picture_gallery/05/africa_togo0s_voodoo_market/html/1.stm" target="_blank">fetish market</a>. If you visit a market where they
sell animal parts for traditional medicine, you can’t really complain if that’s
what you find. But while initially fascinating, the piles of monkey heads,
dried chameleons, dead vultures and many more besides were fairly gruesome; the
wicker basket of kitten heads was particularly stomach turning. The smell of
the market was even more overwhelming; it’s hard to describe in words, but probably
not that difficult to imagine the stench produced by hundreds of dead animals
lying about in 35-degree heat. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitPPXihdgQFk37Mnv27iydr0xrq8XAvSN62oT4vsERtc9jxbz5K-YlT3aJ980f3Qb4dxCb6blXwwhx0bK5A3ZU8qk2sf4iElrk75722cYrEJXYlko1AWBVBilksHSip1TEb2BO-tPvdEY/s1600/IMG_1359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitPPXihdgQFk37Mnv27iydr0xrq8XAvSN62oT4vsERtc9jxbz5K-YlT3aJ980f3Qb4dxCb6blXwwhx0bK5A3ZU8qk2sf4iElrk75722cYrEJXYlko1AWBVBilksHSip1TEb2BO-tPvdEY/s1600/IMG_1359.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Not sure what these cure...</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Our guide assured us all
the animals had died of natural causes – yeah, right – but Hannah and I were
quickly going off the idea of a fetish market as a good day out. When he asked
if we wanted to meet the fetish priest and be ‘cured’ with our choice of
animal, ground and brewed with “over fifty traditional herbs”, it was our cue
to leave. Quickly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk4m-X-ev9HmFDTR0muHsacVctQculPGcuQDWcQtCorChdbxV8loO-9bZjmHvC699LBk8BYXitZ-QShXoCQjGp1_F4yJjEIjtoIsjzKZMIY045EXBwr70VCAZkvl98tsCPdd9HQ9TLvW4/s1600/IMG_1381.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk4m-X-ev9HmFDTR0muHsacVctQculPGcuQDWcQtCorChdbxV8loO-9bZjmHvC699LBk8BYXitZ-QShXoCQjGp1_F4yJjEIjtoIsjzKZMIY045EXBwr70VCAZkvl98tsCPdd9HQ9TLvW4/s1600/IMG_1381.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Some carving or other</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="http://www.togo-tourisme.com/togo-tourisme-musees.php?id_page=17" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Georgia;">La Mus</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">é</span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">e International du Golfe de Guin</span><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">ée</span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;"> (that’s the international museum of the Gulf of
Guinea, non-linguists) was a far more relaxed and less pungent affair. Located
in a house on Lom</span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-style: normal; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">é’s urban seafront,
it contains statues and artefacts collected from across West Africa. A good
selection of wooden penises was on show for fans of the genre, as well as some
particularly ugly carvings. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Unfortunately,
once you have visited the fetish market, nothing can distract you from the need
for a shower. We headed back to the hotel and I threw away my fetid T-shirt, which
still smelt of the elephant thighbone* I had been persuaded to pick up for a
photo. Only after two scrubbings, a swim in the pool and a few Togolese beers
did I start to feel clean again.</span></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIzrqjBXaYR82C6tGj9AX1aYgituwpajI8F_P6rZB6rI5gfIXB1yAn8GmCZU20OC1JxKLmL6JY5xBdAeMvYG8SOe42aIz4Ze8R1-LPEgEieprPddvFmodlWGzxXJy8MUsMEq-1peHhwn8/s1600/IMG_1350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIzrqjBXaYR82C6tGj9AX1aYgituwpajI8F_P6rZB6rI5gfIXB1yAn8GmCZU20OC1JxKLmL6JY5xBdAeMvYG8SOe42aIz4Ze8R1-LPEgEieprPddvFmodlWGzxXJy8MUsMEq-1peHhwn8/s1600/IMG_1350.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">An elephant's thighbone. Heavy.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; font-style: normal; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>* The T-shirt was nearly 15 years old and regularly used for hiking, so the elephant cannot be held fully responsible for its aroma.</i></span> </span></i>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-87709063924768466962013-05-26T05:07:00.000-07:002013-05-31T05:07:44.091-07:00Afadjato
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCnPbCCwo92hSIlRuZeT0RZ9_rdNJSNlPCvSr07agR-QTZJ28TfqcbxG0OcPM3XMazHdOQABkl2WeEFxwNuSor45fxa_CwO1HBgekmapKpJiQzKPmegxLuLv3wyge9TA2wkRkQS6mXFk/s1600/IMG_1236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCnPbCCwo92hSIlRuZeT0RZ9_rdNJSNlPCvSr07agR-QTZJ28TfqcbxG0OcPM3XMazHdOQABkl2WeEFxwNuSor45fxa_CwO1HBgekmapKpJiQzKPmegxLuLv3wyge9TA2wkRkQS6mXFk/s1600/IMG_1236.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Mount Afadjato. Not that huge.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Afadjato" target="_blank">Mount Afadjato</a> is Ghana’s
highest mountain, reaching 885m. But the usual nicknames given to a country’s
highest point are not applied here; no one describes it as ‘the rooftop of
Ghana’, for example. And as you arrive at the base at Liati Wote, it’s easy to
see why: Ghana’s highest mountain is surrounded by taller ones.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnNSSyW6CrkJ-Q16WcZQQvRiQ-EelSaL8ZbZx6N8b3XUOzrQC7e38-DsdqcUHPuqV4fgSebaBKLxy4FqAuWRGjkVdrbSnKGShvaVL7EPPfQCGhIOmGH2i_BLuDlqgtBt_vri4S700llgI/s1600/IMG_1243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnNSSyW6CrkJ-Q16WcZQQvRiQ-EelSaL8ZbZx6N8b3XUOzrQC7e38-DsdqcUHPuqV4fgSebaBKLxy4FqAuWRGjkVdrbSnKGShvaVL7EPPfQCGhIOmGH2i_BLuDlqgtBt_vri4S700llgI/s1600/IMG_1243.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">On the way to the top</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Even the nearest peak,
just across the road in the village, looks bigger. As our group from the Ghana
Mountaineers pulled on walking boots and paid our hiking fees, I asked Justice,
our guide, if the nearby hill was actually in Togo, given how close we were to
the border. “No, but it’s much harder to reach the top”, he replied. It seems
Afadjato is not even the tallest in its village; its image was quickly becoming
irredeemably tarnished.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnVV1FmHB32ffRShbz9_G1fm2tsNU22vAnJ86jzQiHoPfXOJi286XQo-0oVB2NNLKsy-v2EwKb0W298A4fd_vwhAJGd7Z1uyjRn76dNLLz_1GkYSK_DplobouqAKRCqAyUoB1Cm1RMcs/s1600/IMG_1237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnVV1FmHB32ffRShbz9_G1fm2tsNU22vAnJ86jzQiHoPfXOJi286XQo-0oVB2NNLKsy-v2EwKb0W298A4fd_vwhAJGd7Z1uyjRn76dNLLz_1GkYSK_DplobouqAKRCqAyUoB1Cm1RMcs/s1600/IMG_1237.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A signpost</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The answer lies in the complexities
of measuring summits and descents in between high points, a familiar issue to
anyone who has tried to distinguish between <a href="http://www.siliconglen.com/Scotland/16_13.html" target="_blank">Munros, Corbetts and Grahams</a> in the
UK. On the route up, Justice explained that the higher peaks nearby form part
of a ridge that switches between Ghana and Togo. So while there are higher
points in Ghana, Afadjato is the highest freestanding peak. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnuKy7LQ1kCSN7Rf0oLJTxI_TAUyjdrpY94WI5h56wlTB4RsaCjcgVTf3bk0E6S3QTVqwa6314SCUFBATAzbpPCwwTMTad9jgLm9T6uPLBfTAN2dENwARgg3EiiAhmZuRlxubFCuFVSyo/s1600/IMG_1251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnuKy7LQ1kCSN7Rf0oLJTxI_TAUyjdrpY94WI5h56wlTB4RsaCjcgVTf3bk0E6S3QTVqwa6314SCUFBATAzbpPCwwTMTad9jgLm9T6uPLBfTAN2dENwARgg3EiiAhmZuRlxubFCuFVSyo/s1600/IMG_1251.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Hot, sweaty and having just been sick</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I think that’s right;
Justice wasn’t entirely</span> sure, and didn’t really seem to understand why it mattered.
He had a point; a good walk is a good walk, and Afadjato is certainly that. A
steep path leads up its western face, with a couple of rocky climbs that provide
a nod towards its ‘mountain’ status. And the views at the summit are superb:
the Agumatsa Hills, coated by a dark green forest, stretch for miles to the
north and south.<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Also visible from the top
is <a href="http://www.bobcoffiehotel.com/hotel/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=60:history-of-tagbo-falls&catid=37:tourist-attractions-in-the-volta-region&Itemid=65" target="_blank">Tagbo Falls</a> and after descending the hill, we continued along the low-level
path to this beautiful waterfall set in a lush forested amphitheatre. The walk
up Afadjato had worked up a sweat and Stephen, Quaysie and I splashed under the
water to cool off. Once refreshed, we could reflect on our earlier achievement
– climbing the highest hill in Ghana that’s not partly in Togo or a bit tricky
to get to. Now that’s some achievement.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iyIx7GxlZhYp-avHvvXinzbd9l39pDLMeAQdkzXixIAOCBhTYU-gZd0Hi63C0La3bqF5b6vICXi0MFcgZ6GQcn1N-dBBTLNotig2Sc003fuxchJ35xRrnasqNYPwLVUcA2tQb-XYxf4/s1600/IMG_1266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iyIx7GxlZhYp-avHvvXinzbd9l39pDLMeAQdkzXixIAOCBhTYU-gZd0Hi63C0La3bqF5b6vICXi0MFcgZ6GQcn1N-dBBTLNotig2Sc003fuxchJ35xRrnasqNYPwLVUcA2tQb-XYxf4/s1600/IMG_1266.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Tagbo Falls</span></td></tr>
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<br /></div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-35372041260089528182013-05-12T05:25:00.000-07:002013-05-18T04:15:27.672-07:00Terrapins<style>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ialJjGytAxK9h3IO36vPaijPKFIYhuu4yJrV_WQEIvI1RccxEyy9zAp6pPJIjyFUz9FXD4sKt9jToeIRKRMlQO0aNWxpXoTrmzqPutfEyDvNrlfTS1746D7T6VCnSbpIi4v5CSaqz2U/s1600/IMG_1180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ialJjGytAxK9h3IO36vPaijPKFIYhuu4yJrV_WQEIvI1RccxEyy9zAp6pPJIjyFUz9FXD4sKt9jToeIRKRMlQO0aNWxpXoTrmzqPutfEyDvNrlfTS1746D7T6VCnSbpIi4v5CSaqz2U/s1600/IMG_1180.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The road to Krobo</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The markers along the
early drive to Krobo were all present and correct: stalls of bread sellers at
Ashaiman; <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/07/baboons.html" target="_blank">baboons lingering outside the Shai Hills</a>; early morning joggers on
the Akosombo road; the police reluctantly waving our car through their
checkpoint, the diplomatic number plates meaning no ‘dash’ this time. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">This was my seventh trip
up <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2011/09/mount-krobo.html" target="_blank">Krobo</a> and the route was equally familiar. I knew every rock along the way,
despite the tall grass obscuring the path. But even well-trodden hills can
throw up surprises. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUUXkPnZ9GZK6rUS2dIagLswEqZ8JxpQe_DB2TgTBI_NRjGrBpS8vaBD0kOMd3aDrxrUm9qLubQSRU9KoK41Agc0ma07v5hlkBA0jcdv33q5itsj3OTIP5EIqniZrDzfa-xy7zqCbvvQ/s1600/snake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUUXkPnZ9GZK6rUS2dIagLswEqZ8JxpQe_DB2TgTBI_NRjGrBpS8vaBD0kOMd3aDrxrUm9qLubQSRU9KoK41Agc0ma07v5hlkBA0jcdv33q5itsj3OTIP5EIqniZrDzfa-xy7zqCbvvQ/s1600/snake.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Snake!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Just beyond the short rock
climb, Carolyn spotted a small grey snake crossing the path. This was the first
snake I had seen on Krobo, and only the third in two years in Ghana – a welcome
rare sighting. The bulge midway along its length suggested we were slightly
less likely to see a mouse on route. After pausing while we took its picture, it
slid off to digest its meal in peace.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9x2cg0MnpR72aHYapBTF6ULfeTvKECejesO5DY2w8UpoXNw7-0OyAsddJylconEgsLdZ051iCF8OdFkuqgQOR9yftmCedo_bT5d3iggqwdEHnNtmLWye15kC2MtURWr55HGss8DGoqQ/s1600/IMG_1181.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh9x2cg0MnpR72aHYapBTF6ULfeTvKECejesO5DY2w8UpoXNw7-0OyAsddJylconEgsLdZ051iCF8OdFkuqgQOR9yftmCedo_bT5d3iggqwdEHnNtmLWye15kC2MtURWr55HGss8DGoqQ/s1600/IMG_1181.jpg" height="227" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A baby terrapin</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">An even bigger surprise
was waiting at the top. In among the rocks at the summit is a small pool of water, which
had been recently replenished by the rain. Something bobbing near the surface
caught my eye; was that really a baby terrapin? I looked again and saw another
further along, and another climbing the side of the pool. As we admired them,
the mother, hidden in the grass, splashed into the water and disappeared into
the depths of the murky pool.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbyzKsKVbUaLG7vx2v8VcfTIozfv0OFTrxAE0VxlUZ1VVHd7cvuryB2f4cEdWll4tQXmH7jItGKzSSUCD0qdpW9u-YdpgW0ZqhL9ZbxXG4HNZZCi-LPzYMwmwcpE491wOtpfc8RAGHf0/s1600/IMG_1188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNbyzKsKVbUaLG7vx2v8VcfTIozfv0OFTrxAE0VxlUZ1VVHd7cvuryB2f4cEdWll4tQXmH7jItGKzSSUCD0qdpW9u-YdpgW0ZqhL9ZbxXG4HNZZCi-LPzYMwmwcpE491wOtpfc8RAGHf0/s1600/IMG_1188.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Route-finding</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It’s a mystery how they
got there; there’s no other standing water for a long way, and the sides of Krobo are surely
too steep for a terrapin to climb (and why would they bother?) Could a bird
have dropped one while flying overhead? Could there be a cave system hidden
within the hill, connecting them to rivers below? It is likely to remain a
mystery for quite some time.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This wasn’t just a simple
stroll up Krobo, however; our group continued to Stone Lodge through the
scrubby plains of lowland Ghana. We took a bearing – none of this
GPS nonsense, just binoculars and a compass – and set off due south.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCraUbZxzV0nBJ3Nnh8Qa-xz7_Bvi_BiYv3Al4MqBCv97nf0clBhkm4JBwiWIytABDSmILuvEWqjm065RHTI241oajbX-FnSD9fGF3L4KSbsT4NvHxI5dNaBwFVDgneZhLB8bIe_m-HI/s1600/IMG_1194.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCraUbZxzV0nBJ3Nnh8Qa-xz7_Bvi_BiYv3Al4MqBCv97nf0clBhkm4JBwiWIytABDSmILuvEWqjm065RHTI241oajbX-FnSD9fGF3L4KSbsT4NvHxI5dNaBwFVDgneZhLB8bIe_m-HI/s1600/IMG_1194.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Krobo in the background</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">Aside from the occasional thicket of trees, and
ditches formed by cattle that were now filled with water, the route was
fairly straightforward. But 14km is a long way in the heat of Ghana; as we
reached Stone Lodge three hours later, I considered the fact that most of our
fellow expats would – like the Krobo terrapins – have opted for <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/06/coffins.html" target="_blank">a day swimming in the pool</a> rather than a hike in the midday sun.</span></span>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-49728672570729518562013-05-06T02:10:00.001-07:002013-05-06T02:24:47.680-07:00The big match<style>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC5IQaezkaEH6GTTGyVOdXn-rx1WNmV3A4EghnLyRQBUKVuPWiQvP-nLkxfyjm8lVbp3YiBlW8Na2ipvhH6S5y5i0Ym_JZZQqjW84YA1betPHoXsIPcPqsU_DO6g22PndcIUrSQbdW7RQ/s1600/IMG_1131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC5IQaezkaEH6GTTGyVOdXn-rx1WNmV3A4EghnLyRQBUKVuPWiQvP-nLkxfyjm8lVbp3YiBlW8Na2ipvhH6S5y5i0Ym_JZZQqjW84YA1betPHoXsIPcPqsU_DO6g22PndcIUrSQbdW7RQ/s1600/IMG_1131.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In the mixer</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It’s West Africa’s <i><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Clásico</span></i>, the regional clash of the titans. Accra Hearts of
Oak, Ghana’s most successful team, against their fierce northern rivals, Kumasi
Asante Kotoko. The country’s two most popular clubs meet in Ghana’s version of
Chelsea versus <s>Liverpool</s> Man United. And … it’s a little bit rubbish.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Many of Ghana’s brightest stars
are <a href="http://www.ghanasoccernet.com/thirty-ghanaian-players-to-join-european-clubs-january/" target="_blank">whisked off to European clubs</a> at a young age, and those left behind seem to
be running through the commentator’s cliché book: the players couldn’t trap a
bag of cement, and chances go begging that the most lethargic grandmother would
have buried. But both sides give 110% on the pitch and plenty of full-blooded
tackles fly in. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvJIjjQPfsahp1fn22iGSYf3VQdUAL0HYb3EWxxLZks0bNyOwEZjZ1cqRE6qq35WXYagFJ1RfjO3duAjFmn0MvH_bKC9k5KbFyMVzYSJ5CB8MUCvUt4PVwWBvMCfppPmmHe8GdNTcR34/s1600/IMG_1125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvJIjjQPfsahp1fn22iGSYf3VQdUAL0HYb3EWxxLZks0bNyOwEZjZ1cqRE6qq35WXYagFJ1RfjO3duAjFmn0MvH_bKC9k5KbFyMVzYSJ5CB8MUCvUt4PVwWBvMCfppPmmHe8GdNTcR34/s1600/IMG_1125.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Packed stadium</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Matches at the Accra
Sports Stadium are about more than the football though. The ground is nearly
full, 38,000 fans wearing the bright red of Kotoko or the garish
yellow-blue-red of Hearts (one of football’s more lurid kits – imagine Crystal
Palace mixed with Partick Thistle, with a bit of LSD thrown in). It’s also the
only place in Ghana where you see anyone wearing a scarf. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxCZ9JpMp1kTEtaXNCe_aOS2NFfG_HYa3aUbO0dhwEM6lgWJUFtedj-N8Ak9o6_fFYGPBSuc0L6TigIaR7ssEuyO8xhAfZJwssWsJ5D7iWkgmx1kXKNdr7NzXrJj3RV09bxh2XIwYFBW8/s1600/IMG_1158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxCZ9JpMp1kTEtaXNCe_aOS2NFfG_HYa3aUbO0dhwEM6lgWJUFtedj-N8Ak9o6_fFYGPBSuc0L6TigIaR7ssEuyO8xhAfZJwssWsJ5D7iWkgmx1kXKNdr7NzXrJj3RV09bxh2XIwYFBW8/s1600/IMG_1158.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A Hearts fan</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Vuvuzelas buzz across
the stadium, far louder than they seem on TV and every bit as annoying. People
sing and dance together, and after every key moment men stand up and start a
fierce argument with someone nearby – anyone will do, even if they agree with
you. It’s a furious burst of shouting and finger pointing, then smiles all
round and back to the game.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMbX-LdKwWvgWcmimqQ4OrytVeU0V1LqKuO3t9i-YJi8V5vLp4NCvnjrPMS2jcGLHMwm2OELW8zUNglTDp-Kgun3jdLaUQeSk7CeYVBoQPZbQa3yGwymV3S3HAlUxyPbI8C0YNTKx2W9c/s1600/IMG_1135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMbX-LdKwWvgWcmimqQ4OrytVeU0V1LqKuO3t9i-YJi8V5vLp4NCvnjrPMS2jcGLHMwm2OELW8zUNglTDp-Kgun3jdLaUQeSk7CeYVBoQPZbQa3yGwymV3S3HAlUxyPbI8C0YNTKx2W9c/s1600/IMG_1135.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And..... he missed</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A rare moment of skill
lights up the first half. <span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wilfred Kobina, the
Hearts midfielder, runs towards the box. As fans in the upper tier take cover,
he surprises everyone by drilling the ball into the bottom corner. The Hearts
players run off to celebrate and the stadium erupts on all sides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cue even more shouting and finger-jabbing.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At half time, the crowd
join in with Hearts’ endearing chant: ‘<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Arise
arise arise, be quiet and don't be silly, we are the famous Hearts of Oak, we Never
Say Die’.</span><b> </b>Fans
pour outside to buy grilled kebabs and popcorn and mingle with the opposition.
It’s all remarkably civilised for the nation’s biggest rivalry; perhaps the memory of
Ghana’s <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Accra_Sports_Stadium_disaster" target="_blank">worst stadium disaster</a>, in which 127 people died, is still too fresh in
people’s memories for any aggression.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_JAdnDsfYiscCvR_SNdW2vjpryRL5A5GCVH03qsrNL-34dbmDptqm5F954WSEXlfBjZ2_37yIsFHMKVEyJXjMBLHlu90DFsk2knpjp3_SIbrOu2HSJs-nFNZFlIXjkBKiwYbj_h7-Mo/s1600/IMG_1170.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ_JAdnDsfYiscCvR_SNdW2vjpryRL5A5GCVH03qsrNL-34dbmDptqm5F954WSEXlfBjZ2_37yIsFHMKVEyJXjMBLHlu90DFsk2knpjp3_SIbrOu2HSJs-nFNZFlIXjkBKiwYbj_h7-Mo/s1600/IMG_1170.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The Kotoko teddy</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The second half
starts at a noticeably slower pace, Ghana’s
intolerable afternoon heat taking its toll. The fans find new ways to entertain
themselves. A poor offside decision leads to a volley of water bottles thrown towards
the offending linesman; one hits him squarely on the backside, which satisfies everyone.
An ever-growing throng dances around the stand, carrying above them a giant
teddy bear bedecked in Kotoko colours. They seem to have more energy than the
players by this late stage.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Kotoko equalise through
a scrappy header following a goalmouth scramble, and apart from a few late
chances for Hearts, the game peters out to <a href="http://www.gbcghana.com/index.php?id=1.1380550" target="_blank">a 1-1 draw</a>. The spoils are
shared and both sets of fans head home happy with the result. But that doesn’t
stop them arguing furiously outside the stadium, about offside decisions, missed chances, and which
side has the best teddy bear.</span></span></div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-61851905324780687142013-04-14T10:42:00.000-07:002013-05-13T10:58:19.750-07:00Obroni<style>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwnl9wtN-SSvqVozo9LWhQCjnQm3_sX4bxhEKmGU0fTpBetJOJEyB6rtFqrpSzncbER_bZvjOPKgauFSe3qYmlYN7UlhHo6c1nx0ULz_5TaFaK2kCcjp3kPf5lItnYEEyEfpYoqG2fbqw/s1600/IMG_1016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwnl9wtN-SSvqVozo9LWhQCjnQm3_sX4bxhEKmGU0fTpBetJOJEyB6rtFqrpSzncbER_bZvjOPKgauFSe3qYmlYN7UlhHo6c1nx0ULz_5TaFaK2kCcjp3kPf5lItnYEEyEfpYoqG2fbqw/s1600/IMG_1016.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Butre beach</span></td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Stirring myself from the
sun lounger at <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/02/butre.html" target="_blank">Fanta’s Folly</a>, I walk along the beach to Butre, one of
Ghana’s popular coastal villages. Small, near-translucent crabs scuttle towards
their holes in the sand as I pass; they pause on the edge, waiting to see how
close I will get before disappearing from view. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Across the wooden bridge that
spans the river between the beach and the village, I wave at a group of
teenagers, anticipating a chorus of ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Obroni" target="_blank">obroni</a>’</i>.
But they are too engrossed in their game of <a href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/22308031/Damii-Ghana-Draughts-History-Rules" target="_blank"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">damii</i></a>
to notice me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I look for a path to Fort
Batenstein, which sits on a small hill overlooking the village. There is no
obvious way up through the haphazard houses, and no one offers directions as I
walk through the main street. But at a school on the edge of Butre, a man asks
me where I’m going. I answer him; he tells me I need a guide to visit the fort.
‘It’s illegitimate to go without out one’, he smiles. I smile back, deciding
not to correct his mistake.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-yCmZLgbZ0WpjhRg162zga5U11UQGU7dDmVJGPVQfbQxgxkxhsziMZi0LA056g2leDCEVdaV1yh7qdqCZTtm-HCbdLfV0y4nzown4hnCWN3XNsswZOM1erIouMifHvf28UkBU6UlrGM/s1600/IMG_1035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-yCmZLgbZ0WpjhRg162zga5U11UQGU7dDmVJGPVQfbQxgxkxhsziMZi0LA056g2leDCEVdaV1yh7qdqCZTtm-HCbdLfV0y4nzown4hnCWN3XNsswZOM1erIouMifHvf28UkBU6UlrGM/s1600/IMG_1035.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Bridge</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In the village, I soon
find the simple wooden shack that acts as Butre’s tourist information centre.
The teenage girl outside looks up at me impassively. I ask to visit the fort. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">‘OK, let’s go.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">‘How much?’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">‘Five cedis.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">‘Too much, I’m not paying
that much.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">‘Then you’re not going.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">She grins broadly. I
wonder whether she is pleased to have outwitted the sweaty white man, or simply
to have avoided a walk in the searing sun. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHJe437WLisf0UIwxRKrbylaSRfI1fsRPeXpocNE9gnnq0HlAs0dCIPezgPUqRkBkHfOn1j7gJ_Dy8tvTegWfI1Oj_0t2T35a_t4QZ5TzS0xDEth9uEhJyTO-KqU35eQOWHKLPabiRovc/s1600/IMG_1045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHJe437WLisf0UIwxRKrbylaSRfI1fsRPeXpocNE9gnnq0HlAs0dCIPezgPUqRkBkHfOn1j7gJ_Dy8tvTegWfI1Oj_0t2T35a_t4QZ5TzS0xDEth9uEhJyTO-KqU35eQOWHKLPabiRovc/s1600/IMG_1045.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sandy</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Instead, I head to the harbour.
Men sit in groups mending their nets; they look up and nod curtly, not hostile
but indifferent to yet another tourist with a camera trying to photograph their
boats. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The children splashing in
the water are more responsive. ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Obroni</i>,
snap me’. They strut and pose for the camera, then crowd around to see
themselves in the viewfinder. I take a deep breath as then sandy little hands
grab at my expensive camera, reminding myself it can be cleaned. ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Obroni</i>, give me one cedi’ they then ask,
an almost Pavlovian reaction to seeing a white person. They don’t seem to
really expect a response, running back into the water, and I don’t give one. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HwMdCd5ISm0jM2W_NyUKor3Z1iXoP5It4eUgaFuFMcNFUE6M_J35EYcqLKfEMxeNfDCQL9WliI1CXiBg36myEZ3Exz6UiFmAo22YdplaIwe_JyemNDea9oknceZUoqnFG0Fu8MYN-JA/s1600/IMG_1050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8HwMdCd5ISm0jM2W_NyUKor3Z1iXoP5It4eUgaFuFMcNFUE6M_J35EYcqLKfEMxeNfDCQL9WliI1CXiBg36myEZ3Exz6UiFmAo22YdplaIwe_JyemNDea9oknceZUoqnFG0Fu8MYN-JA/s1600/IMG_1050.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Butre harbour</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I walk back along the
beach and notice that most of the fishermen have discarded their nets. I ponder
why, then spot a chalk notice on a board outside a bar: ‘Rubin Kazan v Chelsea,
4pm’. The cheers from inside suggests Chelsea have scored already (I have yet
to meet a Rubin Kazan fan in Ghana). </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Back across the bridge, I
stop for a drink at the Johannesburg bar. The couple that own it pause their argument
to serve me a chilled Star beer. The toothless old man next to me starts
talking in broken English. ‘Visit … photo … leave … drink.’ A hand gesture
confirms he wants, or expects, me to buy him a beer too.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I consider whether buying
him one would reinforce stereotypes of tourists as cash points, or be a kind
gesture to a poor man on a hot day. Then realise I only have four cedis on me.
I pretend that I don’t understand him, pay up and leave hurriedly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">On the beach outside, a
young <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/12/rastas.html" target="_blank">rasta</a> leans over his shoulder, smiles and waves. ‘Hey, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">obroni</i>, how are you?’ A small dark pool is
forming on the beach in front of him. ‘Fine, how are you?’ I wave back, making
a mental reminder that talking to people mid-piss won’t be normal when I move
back to Germany in two months.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPjgU0N32Z3aUp-a1qqmkjJ7265YG2gDMm6-J-uf3JpRLWTml6mDQMbgzkuSu4SUlX_DvPkSkNDvmPMRDglBkrR_e72xP_ob6xHf1UNfwAuAwoD3A3bqWEEF14WGJgY2nywTZK7FdnF0/s1600/IMG_1061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKPjgU0N32Z3aUp-a1qqmkjJ7265YG2gDMm6-J-uf3JpRLWTml6mDQMbgzkuSu4SUlX_DvPkSkNDvmPMRDglBkrR_e72xP_ob6xHf1UNfwAuAwoD3A3bqWEEF14WGJgY2nywTZK7FdnF0/s1600/IMG_1061.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Boat</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-38484137292724788602013-04-11T03:19:00.000-07:002013-05-09T04:56:46.675-07:00Butterflies<style>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TvFidAmswCcMZ3Vc_Bcc2cFwJXZqyayDzNdH9Z8IQkgruleaSsZqsW1WjFb1BP2YgCRf4g2_CHxs9dvkUOspjejl5RsshM1N4tvQOBbx3H43IhZS241gk6Gcugg4tU49ykY1W7GLpJ0/s1600/IMG_0864.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7TvFidAmswCcMZ3Vc_Bcc2cFwJXZqyayDzNdH9Z8IQkgruleaSsZqsW1WjFb1BP2YgCRf4g2_CHxs9dvkUOspjejl5RsshM1N4tvQOBbx3H43IhZS241gk6Gcugg4tU49ykY1W7GLpJ0/s1600/IMG_0864.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Not Kumasi</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The Lonely Planet’s <a href="http://shop.lonelyplanet.com/africa/west-africa-travel-guide-7/" target="_blank">West Africa guidebook</a> says ‘Kumasi is worth as much time as you can give it’. Hmm …
my first five minutes in Ghana’s second city were spent picking a route through
Kajeita market – through open sewers, ankle-deep rubbish, and street traders
who cover the pavement with cheap plastic tat and piles of fruit. Five minutes
was more than enough time for me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Perhaps the best way to
enjoy Kumasi is not to live in Accra. The ‘sizzling street food’, ‘<a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/02/makola.html" target="_blank">colourful markets</a>’ and ‘bustling/vibrant/hectic/pulsating nightlife’ may be exciting the
first time, but the novelty quickly wears off. Kumasi had the same hassles,
traffic and potent stenches that Hannah and I were escaping for two weeks. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">That evening we got food
poisoning from an expensive Indian restaurant and were greeted in our hotel
room by a cockroach the size of a cat. I was more than happy to leave Kumasi early
the next morning to explore the countryside of the Ashanti region. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*****</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsVy6IWYGjiKm7vbYNgcPVMpG5wtJ2X3_UGOSyXspM3Yk1Fs1OpQNIEJeEBPcgyHrapivCL3QCMzFWAUfflFq312TjNG7L72_IOSyZtRfGqcD8XFYytPRUfhoZ6dYwtYlGZdn3Oh7EbMw/s1600/IMG_0834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsVy6IWYGjiKm7vbYNgcPVMpG5wtJ2X3_UGOSyXspM3Yk1Fs1OpQNIEJeEBPcgyHrapivCL3QCMzFWAUfflFq312TjNG7L72_IOSyZtRfGqcD8XFYytPRUfhoZ6dYwtYlGZdn3Oh7EbMw/s1600/IMG_0834.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Lake Point Guesthouse</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It’s an unfair comparison:
a crowded city of 1.6 million people versus a tranquil lakeside retreat. But Lake
Bosumtwe felt a world away from Kumasi. Formed by a meteorite several millennia
ago, the near-perfectly round lake is surrounded by quiet fishing villages and
forested peaks – not a bustling market in sight. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We took a taxi to <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g1447516-d965987-Reviews-Lake_Point_Guesthouse-Obo_Ashanti_Region.html" target="_blank">Lake Point Guesthouse</a> on the western shore of the lake. Our room was charmingly
furnished with local materials and adornments. In the garden, birds flitted
between the flowers and star fruits, mangoes, bananas and oranges hung from the
branches of the various trees. I could feel the grime of Kumasi leaving me instantly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm-Igl0uABFAVFQLaOODqlTHBvO5Pg0haOtW360_Y8-eYBp31jHMfTTn67RiXkkrw6iQ1eEmvVAyU5y849iUSqSoHsEh_e3ulX1zhRf4QqdQPOp1rvjD4KDKzY7FXWxSQHOsWyyXhFlog/s1600/IMG_0856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm-Igl0uABFAVFQLaOODqlTHBvO5Pg0haOtW360_Y8-eYBp31jHMfTTn67RiXkkrw6iQ1eEmvVAyU5y849iUSqSoHsEh_e3ulX1zhRf4QqdQPOp1rvjD4KDKzY7FXWxSQHOsWyyXhFlog/s1600/IMG_0856.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Star fruit</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We spent the day lazing by
the lake, reading books and playing scrabble. Beside the lake, the only noise
came from the raucous weaverbirds that were nesting in the reeds. The shallow
lake water was as warm as a bath, and an eagle swooped overhead as I swam. This
was my kind of place.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It’s hard not to fall into
the relaxed vibe of life beside the lake. Unfortunately the staff at Lake Point
had done likewise. The next day, we asked about the lunch menu – a limited but
tasty selection of soups with bread or toasted sandwiches. We were told that
they had run out of bread at breakfast and were waiting to get some more.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVBKbYzSo5WZaO3UJyWCLgpewt_Ne9vbPkAh2DI57avaUBh06JW8kisIoDAVr4oXqeYQXETnKyVvKz-Wl3mjjR-lBElr-GUwLMb-ougvw6D0uijHwEfWNwiCHzah-yahzVUCNrJrYjKI/s1600/IMG_0880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaVBKbYzSo5WZaO3UJyWCLgpewt_Ne9vbPkAh2DI57avaUBh06JW8kisIoDAVr4oXqeYQXETnKyVvKz-Wl3mjjR-lBElr-GUwLMb-ougvw6D0uijHwEfWNwiCHzah-yahzVUCNrJrYjKI/s1600/IMG_0880.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A cattle egret relaxing at the lake</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Breakfast had finished
four hours ago; the nearest village, complete with a stall selling bread, was a
mere 10 minutes’ walk away. I asked if they could get some bread: ‘Someone has
gone already’. When will they be back? ‘I don’t know’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can you prepare soup and bread when they are
back, and bring it to us? ‘No, you must wait.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It’s a minor gripe, and
lethargic customer service is <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/07/baboons.html" target="_blank">hardly a new complaint</a> in Ghana. And if you’re
going to wait for two hours for a bowl of soup, there are few more relaxing
places to do it than Lake Bosumtwe. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*****</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBWms-6AFla8kENhW1XYiCs_E7U7Nir5a-FIzbuXMv_Jy694p3dfFrHf6ovxZQdclPPa9E9uxIIT6vdIJoE-oig3kf_SfsVxaM4AbjjQqfWHiXv3LNXFrTuK0uz2X4j2bV3ceHHJSnAyo/s1600/IMG_0967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBWms-6AFla8kENhW1XYiCs_E7U7Nir5a-FIzbuXMv_Jy694p3dfFrHf6ovxZQdclPPa9E9uxIIT6vdIJoE-oig3kf_SfsVxaM4AbjjQqfWHiXv3LNXFrTuK0uz2X4j2bV3ceHHJSnAyo/s1600/IMG_0967.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A butterfly</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The
Ashanti region is Ghana’s traditional heartland, as well as being the source of
much of the country’s wealth, particularly from the region’s goldmines. There
are plenty of craft villages nearby, but as with bustling markets, you only
need to see Kente weaving once to get the idea. Instead, we decided to visit <a href="http://www.ghana.travel/touring_ghana/eco_tourism/sanctuaries/bobiri_butterfly_sanctuary/" target="_blank">Bobiri butterfly sanctuary</a>.</span> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It was a good
decision. Situated just off the Kumasi–Accra road, the forest sanctuary is
surprisingly well preserved considering that logging has decimated much of the
region’s forests. And you don’t have to go far to see its eponymous residents.</span></span><br />
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyKa3W0hHJwgav1ynlVczh52vnefmtOjnsyjJyAkpx2pBHJT18AmPpFzLUN0c4e6M_UcAg8ykx8FddWlNRSpuRRqIY5OeV7sJPOTlv_8Oy4ukB5WkLpGGstTVNOSI1pbSrRtYF6HUuWV8/s1600/IMG_0930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyKa3W0hHJwgav1ynlVczh52vnefmtOjnsyjJyAkpx2pBHJT18AmPpFzLUN0c4e6M_UcAg8ykx8FddWlNRSpuRRqIY5OeV7sJPOTlv_8Oy4ukB5WkLpGGstTVNOSI1pbSrRtYF6HUuWV8/s1600/IMG_0930.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Another butterfly</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There were
butterflies on every bush in the garden as we dropped off our bags; several
different species flitted about on the road through the forest; one or two
even found their way into the sanctuary’s guesthouse. Filling in the guestbook,
I noted the previous visitor was ‘disappointed not to see any butterflies’; I
wondered exactly where he had been looking.</span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNYgFtlq-pBpE6WiSVqgijYJHGohaagDRDYcRxno5Kf7R_da4spPJzM0UzApAiOa-5_i3Hs-rUio63rXs4UdKQGMaXnPKkgNobzgzZ1KjIOZ6LEFxofGOfNXesat8GIGXB98n2vJ4m-k/s1600/IMG_0996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNYgFtlq-pBpE6WiSVqgijYJHGohaagDRDYcRxno5Kf7R_da4spPJzM0UzApAiOa-5_i3Hs-rUio63rXs4UdKQGMaXnPKkgNobzgzZ1KjIOZ6LEFxofGOfNXesat8GIGXB98n2vJ4m-k/s1600/IMG_0996.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">'I saw her first...'</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</style><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> <span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">We
were soon on a forest trail with James – the only wildlife guide who wears
polished slip-on shoes and an ironed white shirt. He identified the different
trees and told us how people use each one. He also explained the threats facing
Ghana’s forests as the demand for timber rises – part of the forest is
selectively logged.</span> </span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The forest was also
alive with many of the 400 butterfly species recorded in the sanctuary.
Although how anyone records them is beyond me – butterflies rarely sit still
long enough to be examined, the little scamps.</span></span></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXEKTXPeYL-xUfpdQdWgukz6hd_lx8aRfBqsQJx5KNiBFo3ueulLg7Wnt-C0nObu0orIY8jmecvZc6mbgqEbv0sueS2YDAqn2TXyOrW8EeRhTrS-kolPdvRm1qtWernqgAVKdWJ3EKuu8/s1600/IMG_0999.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXEKTXPeYL-xUfpdQdWgukz6hd_lx8aRfBqsQJx5KNiBFo3ueulLg7Wnt-C0nObu0orIY8jmecvZc6mbgqEbv0sueS2YDAqn2TXyOrW8EeRhTrS-kolPdvRm1qtWernqgAVKdWJ3EKuu8/s1600/IMG_0999.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Breakfast at Bobiri</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">That evening, we relaxed
in the sanctuary’s guesthouse, a painted wooden house built on stilts. It felt
like a trip back from the 1930s – sipping drinks on the terrace, looking out to
the forest. The only thing missing from a full <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Happy_Valley_set" target="_blank">Happy Valley experience</a> was the
wife swapping – not easy when you’re the only guests –although two of the
resident tortoises were scrapping over a lady. (If you’ve never seen lovesick
tortoises fighting, I can assure you it’s very entertaining.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">I stretched out, beer in hand and with the
sounds of the rain forest all around. Kumasi may delight backpackers, and
Bosumtwe has its charms, but for me, Bobiri and its butterflies are the
highlight of the Ashanti region.</span></span>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-13881174741985708482013-04-08T06:23:00.000-07:002013-05-04T03:30:54.270-07:00Hippos<style>
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<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbLWgE13MrGZajKCMZ0RYXXHlefJ_9RppQSUW-3IUz0FznvCPlp5nuUrv9HGq2gbvT21w2pYcJVKwnt5lrqVJmBiz4-gsKi2QVcb9LNkLUuFWe_Otn6Upec7CbZuUB_sJ8kOjqofdGjhk/s1600/IMG_0746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbLWgE13MrGZajKCMZ0RYXXHlefJ_9RppQSUW-3IUz0FznvCPlp5nuUrv9HGq2gbvT21w2pYcJVKwnt5lrqVJmBiz4-gsKi2QVcb9LNkLUuFWe_Otn6Upec7CbZuUB_sJ8kOjqofdGjhk/s1600/IMG_0746.jpg" height="202" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A hippo</span></td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><a href="http://www.ghanahippos.com/" target="_blank">Weichau hippo sanctuary</a> feels
a long way from anywhere. We rattled along the bumpy, potholed road from <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2013/04/tick-lists.html" target="_blank">Mole National Park</a> for four hours before reaching the sanctuary’s visitor centre. Jo, our
guide, showed us inside while KK, our driver, surveyed his mud-splattered car
with the look of a man who regretted spending an hour washing it that morning. After
paying the entrance fee, I asked Jo where the hippos were. ‘We have to drive;
it’s another 22km along a dirt road’. KK didn’t look like he wanted to see
hippos anymore; I was beginning to wonder myself.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We headed towards the
Black Volta River, past the small communities who together created the
sanctuary. I should have admired this remarkable community-based ecotourism
project; instead I wondered when it was lunchtime and if it was too late to
head for a hotel in Wa. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiis_duM5jmKb6DphEOoQOkOzL5GZx7ijYbRUAnZJbRVMqDoxcE2ODwZ2AO8UbAyu8LbXoHHfRZgQcakdzU4rG8koTtMfLccUf45XNmMUaS5ifQOf-8xDudrt5q_KEgkWh22Ck5KXhZAGU/s1600/IMG_0783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiis_duM5jmKb6DphEOoQOkOzL5GZx7ijYbRUAnZJbRVMqDoxcE2ODwZ2AO8UbAyu8LbXoHHfRZgQcakdzU4rG8koTtMfLccUf45XNmMUaS5ifQOf-8xDudrt5q_KEgkWh22Ck5KXhZAGU/s1600/IMG_0783.jpg" height="223" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A young hippo</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">A dugout canoe was waiting
on the river, which flows along the border between Ghana and Burkina Faso. We
climbed in and were paddled upstream. And just five minutes later, we saw them.
A <a href="http://www.namibian.org/travel/misc/collective-nouns.html" target="_blank">bloat of hippos</a>, submerged in the centre of the river. They rose one by one
to snort out air, nudge each other or, on several occasions, fart loudly. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We pulled into the
undergrowth on the Burkinabe side of the river and watched them. There’s
something enthrallingly special about being 20 metres from wild hippos – about
as close as I’d want to be. As each head appeared slowly, it was hard to shake
the feeling they were keeping an eye on us, checking that we were keeping our
distance. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The hippos have been
protected since 1999, when the local communities created the sanctuary to
generate a bit more tourism revenue in this quiet corner of Ghana. The scheme
has been a success: visitor numbers have increased steadily and so, more
importantly, have hippo numbers. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIuVm5zRbo5RXNNkttX1QqIKevewcIgnAYqzE1k6d18xVwkmO4x7S9psmYzfY5s0_o0453BIBrGuqFRIuuJW56U0djZk8A1XB3QxMfnHNKYmb_Kt7Czigr6ffNPhTffAOxLyVJiOzcsmo/s1600/IMG_0795.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIuVm5zRbo5RXNNkttX1QqIKevewcIgnAYqzE1k6d18xVwkmO4x7S9psmYzfY5s0_o0453BIBrGuqFRIuuJW56U0djZk8A1XB3QxMfnHNKYmb_Kt7Czigr6ffNPhTffAOxLyVJiOzcsmo/s1600/IMG_0795.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Our canoe</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Numbers may get a further
boost shortly. The hippos in <a href="http://www.mampam.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=124&Itemid=38" target="_blank">Bui National Park</a>, further along the Black Volta,
are under threat from the new hydropower dam. Weichau sanctuary and Ghanaian wildlife groups hope they will move upstream. They will have to make
their own way, though; no one has yet offered to move these giant, grumpy
beasts. There are also doubts whether the land around Weichau could support
more hippos. There’s plenty of space in the water – <a href="http://hippo.50megs.com/weichau.htm" target="_blank">the problems will arise</a> when
they come on land to graze, threatening local crops. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Hidden in the shade, with
the two young hippos now jumping on each other, it would have been easy to stay
for longer. But tummies were rumbling; I illegally entered Burkina Faso for a
quick piss, and we headed back to Weichau, leaving the hippos to enjoy their
serene sanctuary.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*****</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Ghana does tropical storms
like few other countries, and the one during our night camping near the river
was a classic. The lightning was so bright that the cockerels started crowing
at 3.00am, thinking it was morning. We had to move our tent in the middle of
the night to avoid a drenching. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRruuQxOUMlX4-I97cxHgML9f3WfGagEQqUgZbLNwZgZxztsBI9LvAami_9CAqfOU_amaeneiLDjqsXhzEbK4q3aPqstgcWfsnE09l_Pc-o9epGg2YBogJ0cC-6cZs_8Xv84EKu31yww/s1600/IMG_0833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRruuQxOUMlX4-I97cxHgML9f3WfGagEQqUgZbLNwZgZxztsBI9LvAami_9CAqfOU_amaeneiLDjqsXhzEbK4q3aPqstgcWfsnE09l_Pc-o9epGg2YBogJ0cC-6cZs_8Xv84EKu31yww/s1600/IMG_0833.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Next morning, our charcoal
burner was too wet too cook breakfast on, so we headed into Weichau village to
eat. Jo took us to Yussif’s Tea Spot, whose motto is ‘Call in for all kinds of
beverages’. As long as it’s Lipton Yellow Label tea. Still, at least Yussif
acknowledged how lacking in flavour this shameful British brand is and put two
bags into my plastic mug.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMK2V3Bx-AZAx26BNbx4fHTzPgAtvonlORbT-BqRXsJEK_d302GVyP193NK61jAvluTrzXEUYCR5XYxojj31rNiGaJuv6pjJNsOgLU_MpHgg7iGzxCWHcPcAu_cGwwcgAm7-vamLSGi3w/s1600/IMG_0830.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMK2V3Bx-AZAx26BNbx4fHTzPgAtvonlORbT-BqRXsJEK_d302GVyP193NK61jAvluTrzXEUYCR5XYxojj31rNiGaJuv6pjJNsOgLU_MpHgg7iGzxCWHcPcAu_cGwwcgAm7-vamLSGi3w/s1600/IMG_0830.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Mmm, Lipton!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Four of our six eggs had survived
the storm and were soon being turned into an omelette. The tins of Heinz baked
beans caused a problem, however. After explaining to Yussif that they didn’t go
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">in</i> the omelette, he then tried to fry
them. It took a bit of discussion – Yussif was mute, so Hannah and I first had
to explain to Jo how to cook beans, and he then signed this to Yussif. The
expression on Jo’s face when he ate them was similar to my first fufu
experience – people actually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">like</i>
this stuff? – but he ate them all, and Yussif’s fine breakfast restored our
spirits after a wet night. </span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1MhKQI7aA9hA6UB__8tRJ6gCOwBqhC5JkiovIvOdDeaJXUURJbZL-5jtdRa-fHByWLoPt0Ovm6dgwSWV4gnWYWKNPJgXW-Z1gX9bdZZcIfEQpj-eKlrTm-S7I08AZYno4-rpULq6BoDA/s1600/IMG_0825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1MhKQI7aA9hA6UB__8tRJ6gCOwBqhC5JkiovIvOdDeaJXUURJbZL-5jtdRa-fHByWLoPt0Ovm6dgwSWV4gnWYWKNPJgXW-Z1gX9bdZZcIfEQpj-eKlrTm-S7I08AZYno4-rpULq6BoDA/s1600/IMG_0825.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Mmm, beans!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">Sipping my syrupy tea, I revised my opinion from
the previous day. Weichau is a wonderful place and the local people deserve huge
credit for their project. It’s well worth visiting – just don’t expect the
journey there to be easy. And maybe leave the beans behind.</span>Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-75299850685292465312013-04-05T09:08:00.000-07:002013-05-09T04:58:04.817-07:00Tick lists<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt;">There’s no mistaking a birdwatching enthusiast. Zechariah,
wearing a dark green uniform complete with an ancient-looking rifle over
his shoulder, was waiting at the safari office in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/elephants.html" target="_blank"><span style="background: white; color: #6678cc; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Mole National Park</span></a></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="background: white; color: #333333;"> </span></span><span style="background: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">when I arrived at 5.45am. </span>‘I was up at
four, looking for fishing owls’ he explained. ‘Didn’t see them, just heard
them.’ This was a man who took twitching seriously.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHplE8kgcSvxRYcqAmXhBCjA20gGDv-zUKklCBUkeJwNeGZ5BVaqQR3PVWqminA-12w6S3n5LImPSB-kbuOdn3zmF9bvqBvfM5hN1LCTg6gD58e67BpnRA9UBCxEVAZugD_VeFDgYYhCQ/s1600/IMG_0546.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHplE8kgcSvxRYcqAmXhBCjA20gGDv-zUKklCBUkeJwNeGZ5BVaqQR3PVWqminA-12w6S3n5LImPSB-kbuOdn3zmF9bvqBvfM5hN1LCTg6gD58e67BpnRA9UBCxEVAZugD_VeFDgYYhCQ/s1600/IMG_0546.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Mole National Park</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Seriously enough to knock
on the door of the two guests who had failed to show up. He came back, shaking
his head disbelievingly: ‘They didn’t come, because of the storm’. The downpour
just an hour earlier had been torrential; it seemed a viable excuse to me. But
I opted to hold my tongue.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It was soon my turn
anyway. ‘You’re too young to be a birdwatcher’, he said, looking me up and
down. ‘Do you have a camera and notebook?’ I told him that I wasn’t too serious
about birdwatching, and just enjoyed seeing tropical birds. The look he gave me
in response left me wondering if I would make it past the crocodiles in the water
hole. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But credit where it’s due:
Zechariah Wareh knows his birds. As we made our way down the steep escarpment
in front of the <a href="http://molemotelgh.com/park.html" target="_blank">Mole Motel</a>, he picked out various weavers and seed-crackers and
the colourful red-cheeked cordon-bleu. He knew them not just by sight, but also
by call; while I tried to find one species through my binoculars, he was
already calling out the next one. Mole has <a href="http://www.ghanawildlifesociety.org/page.php?page=207&section=32&typ=1&subs=" target="_blank">over 300 species of bird</a>, and he
seemed keen to show me all of them.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHcIn8CfJ4UKasZflwN_lufUvzXtChZw0X3ZLMownWyPlq56nUwwQQksuJAy4PqwqWI4OmL0hh21GTyJYRy_dpy7AQhiiSkCBuJS6wyqTWyvry_3TN-uOfeOj7lX1i3P_aIBxRwFNERrs/s1600/IMG_0672.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHcIn8CfJ4UKasZflwN_lufUvzXtChZw0X3ZLMownWyPlq56nUwwQQksuJAy4PqwqWI4OmL0hh21GTyJYRy_dpy7AQhiiSkCBuJS6wyqTWyvry_3TN-uOfeOj7lX1i3P_aIBxRwFNERrs/s1600/IMG_0672.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A red-billed stork</span></td></tr>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As we walked through the
scrubby savannah forest, he mentioned how lucky I was to have him for this walk.
He had been booked on a course, but as the other birding guide had called in
sick, he had stayed to take me out. ‘I am in the Bradt guide’, he said, not
boastfully but rightfully proud of his reputation. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">He also told me about two
avid twitchers who had spent nearly a week in the National Park looking for the
rare painted snipe. ‘They are wasting their time; it has gone for the year’, he
said emphatically. ‘I have told them.’ I was surprised that anyone would doubt
his word on avian matters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Keen to redeem myself a
little, I mentioned the red-billed stork I had seen the previous day. He smiled
and nodded; I was starting to make amends for my lack of years or tick-list. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2T1YhocEN8ZSBVQR4YFAePWGVi2m0wHLFEZSIEDaPkPu4hx0iXAHdESob6ldJ2Ngf81aMBjgLGeDIt02MI3NxZUsQCrIvfGfwIuXkTJz8Ys3YzH0DhqnM0DVWFmcwaN94g9EJ1WfG4w/s1600/IMG_0573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2T1YhocEN8ZSBVQR4YFAePWGVi2m0wHLFEZSIEDaPkPu4hx0iXAHdESob6ldJ2Ngf81aMBjgLGeDIt02MI3NxZUsQCrIvfGfwIuXkTJz8Ys3YzH0DhqnM0DVWFmcwaN94g9EJ1WfG4w/s1600/IMG_0573.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Crocs</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">For two hours, we wandered
about, viewing gonoleks, starlings and vultures, among others. I lost count of
the species we had seen, and was grateful I hadn’t had tried to keep a record. As
we returned to the motel, we passed the crocodiles at the water hole. Zechariah
stopped, admiring the creatures as they basked in the morning sun. It was warming
that, after 25 years as a guide, he was still awed by a sight he must have seen
nearly every day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">By this time I was hungry
and, well, a little ‘birded out’. As I trotted quickly up the steps towards
breakfast, Zechariah called me back. ‘Look, fruit pigeons – three different
species’ he said, pointing to the colourful birds, which put their dour UK
cousins to shame. I looked up, muttered something appreciative and then headed
off for breakfast. Zechariah headed off to the office, and I was fairly sure he
would be out there at 4.00am next day looking for his owls.</span></div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-85549006540387670932013-04-03T06:55:00.000-07:002013-04-24T08:10:38.042-07:00A tale of two villages<style>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirtfH6k2AdiVAbJGMz2etvA-ZxX1j5gUXf4niaghkwK7ay70JtpqVk3mVWtTHZU55JYYDcO3rQPEmc5lI8VXgsDR6OCJIdFl8nefin0ZdzVk2sLqSLnWAKEkPV9380UEG0e1uROD9Pmxg/s1600/IMG_0514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirtfH6k2AdiVAbJGMz2etvA-ZxX1j5gUXf4niaghkwK7ay70JtpqVk3mVWtTHZU55JYYDcO3rQPEmc5lI8VXgsDR6OCJIdFl8nefin0ZdzVk2sLqSLnWAKEkPV9380UEG0e1uROD9Pmxg/s1600/IMG_0514.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Cotton</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">There are an increasing
number of village tours available in Ghana. These offer visitors the chance to experience
rural life, see traditional crafts and peek into people’s houses. They often
provide a fascinating glimpse into a part of Ghana that most people don’t see.
But some are better than others.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2H3ZZNX-dgKZ47nQJW_IvVxN3OWsyFyekBv8WR9DAmT5G7Q_XSrxEqP8TQ3gAIeh2Vg8DS2pQgrCO7wR8pOrV9aIGwqoX3cB2Iq-Jl6VDbbVCtrg-QsZKy42s5JB_7kuvA9hSP0nTQX8/s1600/IMG_0523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2H3ZZNX-dgKZ47nQJW_IvVxN3OWsyFyekBv8WR9DAmT5G7Q_XSrxEqP8TQ3gAIeh2Vg8DS2pQgrCO7wR8pOrV9aIGwqoX3cB2Iq-Jl6VDbbVCtrg-QsZKy42s5JB_7kuvA9hSP0nTQX8/s1600/IMG_0523.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Crockery sets</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><a href="http://www.asempalodge.com/tours.php" target="_blank">Zozugo village</a> is located
behind Asempa Lodge on the outskirts of Tamale. At the suggestion of the lodge
staff, Hannah and I went on a tour before leaving for Mole National Park. Christopher,
our guide, was wearing his school uniform when he collected us from the lodge. But
despite his age, he was an excellent guide, explaining every little detail of
his village.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We started at the
village’s cotton tree near the mosque, from which the village’s weavers get
their materials. He found a pod, cracked it open and explained how it was
harvested. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Next he showed us around a
traditional homestead. One room was stacked from floor to ceiling with different
crockery sets and cooking pots. These are owned by women, enabling them to
accumulate wealth in a way that stops them from running away with it – so the
men are happy. A little misogynistic? Maybe, but it also prevents the husband
spending the family’s money on palm wine and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pito_%28beer%29" target="_blank"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">pito</i></a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We met the village’s oldest
weaver, a smiling 98-year-old lady who showed us how to spin the cotton
harvested in the village. We visited two women who process shea butter and sell
it in Tamale. And then we visited the village midwife’s home, where the
realities of rural life in Ghana seemed less cosy and photogenic.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhskiPXTBOcii9hINUmmcx8JSw5bH124JxpVzExjMJKbyFLuUTk4UhyWE7zCkwGaus2oGAdlEXfA_cNjWbs6sgUQfTYfbEItQvyUK3omZiZ4hAgGvUbaCisiE96i67wxMm7LWWbdMmoVcQ/s1600/IMG_0531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhskiPXTBOcii9hINUmmcx8JSw5bH124JxpVzExjMJKbyFLuUTk4UhyWE7zCkwGaus2oGAdlEXfA_cNjWbs6sgUQfTYfbEItQvyUK3omZiZ4hAgGvUbaCisiE96i67wxMm7LWWbdMmoVcQ/s1600/IMG_0531.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Weaving cotton</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Just four miles from
Ghana’s fourth-largest city, a young woman was giving birth on a stone floor in
a mud hut. The midwife was tending to her with a collection of herbal remedies,
but there was no bed, no evident sanitation, and no emergency response if
things went wrong. The rate of maternal mortality is <a href="http://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/artikel.php?ID=207385" target="_blank">still high in Ghana</a>, and medical conditions in rural areas are a factor. It all felt a long way from
the shiny clinics of Accra (and even these are only available to the fortunate
few).</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-h4W98s1XMDsRILjeUr1Qh73epUJitofEfyxIT-Smb1ea2CtBMi5xZ6L7mQxMO8gUEpT3ziv8hnbkArHWbNagS02skab5sLwJkjsYJzsS4rhkKIO26RYGSlc2lr_daSkpr9afe74SIg/s1600/IMG_0526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD-h4W98s1XMDsRILjeUr1Qh73epUJitofEfyxIT-Smb1ea2CtBMi5xZ6L7mQxMO8gUEpT3ziv8hnbkArHWbNagS02skab5sLwJkjsYJzsS4rhkKIO26RYGSlc2lr_daSkpr9afe74SIg/s1600/IMG_0526.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Shea butter</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It was a confronting end
to the tour, but it was still hugely enjoyable. Christopher was helpful,
informative and friendly. As we shared a drink back at the lodge, he explained
how the tour fees of 15 cedis per person are shared between the guide and the
community. He then caught a tro-tro to school in Tamale while we headed off towards
<a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/elephants.html" target="_blank">Mole National Park</a> in our hire car.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">***</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Larabanga, situated just
outside Mole, is better known than Zozugo. It gets far more visitors, being so
close to Ghana’s most popular National Park. But much of its notoriety comes
from the many guidebooks and websites that rate the village’s ancient
mud-and-stick mosque as <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g293796-d555772-Reviews-Larabanga_Mosque-Ghana.html" target="_blank">one of Ghana’s most disappointing trips</a>. This is mostly
due to the amount of hassle tourists receive from local people.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It was little surprise,
therefore, when a smartly dressed young man approached our car when we arrived
that afternoon. He introduced himself as Abe, Larabanga’s ‘official tour guide’.
Without pausing for breath, or even asking if we were visiting the mosque, he
pointed us towards it and told us where to park. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">People in Larabanga are
aware of their bad press. At the small tourist office, Abe explained how things
had improved recently. He had noticed our Bradt guide, in which Larabanga gets
slated for its pushy guides and hangers-on asking for money. ‘We have official
guides now, to make things better’, he said. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">So has the experience
improved? It’s hard to say, having only visited once, but to me there is still some
way to go. Abe knew a lot about the mosque’s history, but interspersed his tour
with several references to how poor people in Larabanga were and how many
visitors liked to give donations to the village. Not a direct request, but
fairly unsubtle. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-S_tlP0nbURb8M5cQ3SHunMrQjQEAzeUFSXaLKev8aR2YbPrgeg5WVIx_8FMTBafhivSI2vUeo8pWD03I_Zwy1X2bdzsFs_qoylPoMHNaqyySnDUpGUbFkgkB8NIT3c1w6tOefMmdIw/s1600/IMG_0539.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-S_tlP0nbURb8M5cQ3SHunMrQjQEAzeUFSXaLKev8aR2YbPrgeg5WVIx_8FMTBafhivSI2vUeo8pWD03I_Zwy1X2bdzsFs_qoylPoMHNaqyySnDUpGUbFkgkB8NIT3c1w6tOefMmdIw/s1600/IMG_0539.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Larabanga mosque</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Throughout our tour around
the mosque – visitors aren’t allowed in –three of Abe’s friends followed us silently.
They weren’t aggressive or pushy, but it was a bit off-putting to have them
stood directly behind us the whole time. I asked Abe why they were with us.
‘They don’t have anything else to do’, was his honest reply.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As we wandered back
through the village, Abe showed us kids playing games and picked a local fruit
for us to try. He made a genuine effort to make the tour interesting, and his
friends also relaxed a little, asking us about Ghanaian politics as we headed
to our car.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And then it started. As I
paid Abe the seven cedis each for the tour (half the tour fee for Zozugo) his friends
started producing clipboards with sponsorship forms, asking for contributions
to school fees, the village football team and other vague community funds. We jumped
into the car and drove off quickly, as they continued to call after us. It felt
very different to the morning, when we had shared a leisurely drink with our
guide in Zozugo.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSMjs99yLDPMZ3dQeDh3bNka6IhJva3GHyj_vy2UR-HSspldUIx36dEHCouLg3mqphSOruY6LDrCERAGdMAyeMZP1DgAG3Go9hPidBSvuP07Z3Jvxht_EUiM4g0JPeOxMbB3zckT_vVM/s1600/IMG_0543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSMjs99yLDPMZ3dQeDh3bNka6IhJva3GHyj_vy2UR-HSspldUIx36dEHCouLg3mqphSOruY6LDrCERAGdMAyeMZP1DgAG3Go9hPidBSvuP07Z3Jvxht_EUiM4g0JPeOxMbB3zckT_vVM/s1600/IMG_0543.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A plastic teapot</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">This is just my
perspective, of course. Ask the people in Larabanga, and they would likely
bemoan the fact that wealthy tourists turn up in shiny 4x4s, take lots of
photos on expensive cameras, and then whinge online when they are asked for a
very small amount of money. The midwife in Zozugo could reasonably question why
I chose to write about the conditions she works in, rather than do something practical
to help. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">Still, tourism relies on recommendations, good
reviews and word of mouth suggestions. I would encourage anyone to go to
Zozugo; I would advise people not to bother with Larabanga. If Abe really wants
to improve the experience for visitors to Larabanga, he ought to visit Zozugo
and see how a community tour should be run.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;"></span>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-91493695575473140382013-04-01T03:33:00.000-07:002013-04-22T04:08:18.837-07:00Shrines<style>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">Bolgatanga
is hot. It is doubtless many other things, but it’s hard to appreciate them in
such intense heat. The stifling, windless air feels like it is slowly cooking
you; plastic chairs burn your legs; the heat rising from the dirt roads passes through
your sandals and warms your feet. To confirm, it’s hot in northern Ghana.</span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0mrxiM6B2PVhvNepFxG0XnuFNhn852JBeKPRDbEz0QFOx83-d9qzPFNlOBRgkRmscR6QckTHLAAeMWZLp6wAFWOSeabo4Yso-JOOFplGzREzFFvkJ4q7qGUThKGHelSlJW-0XPXCydA/s1600/IMG_0441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy0mrxiM6B2PVhvNepFxG0XnuFNhn852JBeKPRDbEz0QFOx83-d9qzPFNlOBRgkRmscR6QckTHLAAeMWZLp6wAFWOSeabo4Yso-JOOFplGzREzFFvkJ4q7qGUThKGHelSlJW-0XPXCydA/s1600/IMG_0441.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Shrines at Tengzug</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Luckily the Sand Gardens
hotel, on the town’s outskirts, has several large mango trees in its spacious
grounds. After arriving from <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2013/04/omelettes.html" target="_blank">Tamale</a> in a Flintstones-era bus – complete with
holes in the floor for your feet – Hannah and I headed instantly for their
shade. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Faced with these options –
blistering sunshine versus cool shade – it was tempting to spend both of our
days in ‘Bolga’ hidden at the hotel. But describing the drinking of various
soft drinks in a hotel would make for a fairly dull blog (insert joke here). So
early next morning, we slapped on the factor 50, bought loads of water and hired
a taxi to take us to the nearby Tongo hills. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHp2PQ9tZvMg9n6NmNs5VErlmXqAmsL0KiHk3revMvZaiKrlW5wCt7YpDNMJwly6uUxCvq309LNNz5hll8oVK0nqQFw6GPh8Up1PdKXHcJYaZ0id5IG4TVixW1tsuXJOL9HtYMHKmKk7E/s1600/IMG_0434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHp2PQ9tZvMg9n6NmNs5VErlmXqAmsL0KiHk3revMvZaiKrlW5wCt7YpDNMJwly6uUxCvq309LNNz5hll8oVK0nqQFw6GPh8Up1PdKXHcJYaZ0id5IG4TVixW1tsuXJOL9HtYMHKmKk7E/s1600/IMG_0434.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The chief's palace</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The village of Tengzug is the
site of several shrines. Ernest, our guide, met us as we arrived and took us to
greet the village chief. After a smile and a wave from the big man, we climbed to
the roof of his house to admire his compound. It’s reputedly the largest
chief’s dwelling in Ghana – and he needs it, having 18 wives and 350-odd
relatives to share it with. Valentine’s Day must take a fair bit of planning in
Tengzug.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0a36-XAkrNIQUerGx9u0Dh34vyYkZxfPs-cU-U7ocTo0zAcQAgOuK8mB2hcZq8z_GXxab0JUS6sRwMlPWsg9eOQZFfeqrOi5irwlZNHyu8pmuAW2uO47n91UB-8zJsKMoXNt5DGfAS-o/s1600/IMG_0447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0a36-XAkrNIQUerGx9u0Dh34vyYkZxfPs-cU-U7ocTo0zAcQAgOuK8mB2hcZq8z_GXxab0JUS6sRwMlPWsg9eOQZFfeqrOi5irwlZNHyu8pmuAW2uO47n91UB-8zJsKMoXNt5DGfAS-o/s1600/IMG_0447.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Various dead animals</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We went to explore the small,
mud-built houses, one for each family group. The dwellings are all built into
each other and connected by a labyrinth of narrow passages. And outside each
house is a shrine – a stone stump plastered with chicken blood and feathers, or
occasionally decapitated livestock stuffed with leaves and various charms. They
looked vaguely sinister but were also intriguing – it’s not every day you see a
headless goat with leaves up its bum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglb5yRarbAmuJBF2KCUXGPFCFyKnms0qXQbcQUwgEitIksu_6IMLKsJHvV49yb6QTdW98cAEp06UkWE4A-dPaV7WXHELrswj_Zg8N0ZC87vgIdaU0Aq_F8IhpzY0AZGdu2pNoSsjan6eA/s1600/IMG_0467.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglb5yRarbAmuJBF2KCUXGPFCFyKnms0qXQbcQUwgEitIksu_6IMLKsJHvV49yb6QTdW98cAEp06UkWE4A-dPaV7WXHELrswj_Zg8N0ZC87vgIdaU0Aq_F8IhpzY0AZGdu2pNoSsjan6eA/s1600/IMG_0467.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Discussing Barcelona in the shade</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Ernest then took us to the
cave shrines among the ‘whistling hills’ – so-called because of the sound the
wind makes as it passes through the rock formations during the <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2013/01/dust.html" target="_blank">Harmattan</a>. As we
walked, our conversation turned to the forthcoming Champions League games, and at
the first shrine, Ernest’s efforts to inform us about his community’s
traditions were betrayed by his love of football.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">‘This is the donkey
shrine, where people leave the skulls of their dead donkeys.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">‘Why do they leave the
skulls here?’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">‘To represent hard work by
their animals. Tomorrow, you will see that Barca are still the greatest’.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">‘Yes, but they struggled
against Milan in the last round. Who comes to visit the shrines?’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">‘People come from very
far, from many lands. But with Messi, anything is possible.’</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDJKiGYZINp6GI2P9Pc3mTO9huW2jAqx_mwd2QRkj4TyLCqPaTGs0_lhtfAmzASL9cpsbTNFWomYZDgnsLPxnlUJq44sN5TzBeDU2PJq1uIBKKdSjkTXNpZPwdjjw-c7_RXXHOdFzEXLg/s1600/IMG_0470.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDJKiGYZINp6GI2P9Pc3mTO9huW2jAqx_mwd2QRkj4TyLCqPaTGs0_lhtfAmzASL9cpsbTNFWomYZDgnsLPxnlUJq44sN5TzBeDU2PJq1uIBKKdSjkTXNpZPwdjjw-c7_RXXHOdFzEXLg/s1600/IMG_0470.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Donkey skulls</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I could pretend this was
frustrating and ruined the authenticity of the visit. But most people reading
know that I am far more interested in football than rural Ghanaian traditions.
By the time we reached Ba’ar Tonna’ab Ya’nee, the most important shrine at
Tengzug, we had given up on local history and were fully focused on the
shortcomings of the Ghana national team, particularly how the manager was a
corrupt fool who favoured Ashantis. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsnaGJJHK8QC0x1jWgjaEf960ntwjP1J6Bb59SeDRtWfGIlhLgkyA_4boeeIrO883OssAgnUAC0J7scOZoM2i4hyuCSZx500qDea4nm6bDbJACOvL0P5jQarlGH7ZAe0WYPUT8wMJ6B6o/s1600/IMG_0482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsnaGJJHK8QC0x1jWgjaEf960ntwjP1J6Bb59SeDRtWfGIlhLgkyA_4boeeIrO883OssAgnUAC0J7scOZoM2i4hyuCSZx500qDea4nm6bDbJACOvL0P5jQarlGH7ZAe0WYPUT8wMJ6B6o/s1600/IMG_0482.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A Tengzug kitchen</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Ernest refocused
sufficiently to remember tradition, so we left Hannah by a rock – no girls
allowed at the shrine – and removed our shirts and sandals before climbing over
the scorching rocks to the cave that holds the shrine. Inside sat the priest,
wearing scruffy grey shorts and nothing else. Filling much of the cave was the
biggest pile of dead chickens I have ever seen. I was asked if I would like to
make a sacrifice, for wealth or to help my family prosper; I wasn’t sure of the
vegetarian position on chicken sacrifice, so declined. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">The priest then said something to Ernest, who
translated for me: ‘He would like to know if you are a Barcelona fan’. Lying
topless with two other men in a cave full of dead chickens, discussing Barcelona
with a tribal priest, must count as one of the most surreal moments of my life
(and I lived in Brighton for five years). I told the priest I supported
Liverpool, wished Barca luck for their game against PSG, then made my way down
to the relative normality of the Tengzug chief with his 18 wives and collection
of leafy-bum goats.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEY8Idi53-AeFL4xZ9KZPVjSx4Dv-_vU1kvF7nwzcZEPYcpzblz4JY-r0cLVOiyBT4nvdHPD06g0QVxbDFJEgbEDaUCiXz34NA3jaG5ys_FbDGDPKbBKxFjcpUEAELiiE82TKcaB2I2hk/s1600/IMG_0473.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEY8Idi53-AeFL4xZ9KZPVjSx4Dv-_vU1kvF7nwzcZEPYcpzblz4JY-r0cLVOiyBT4nvdHPD06g0QVxbDFJEgbEDaUCiXz34NA3jaG5ys_FbDGDPKbBKxFjcpUEAELiiE82TKcaB2I2hk/s1600/IMG_0473.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The Whistling Hills</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-40874850186097140002013-04-01T02:09:00.000-07:002013-05-10T14:51:05.298-07:00Omelettes<style>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">Travel
broadens the mind; it gives you new perspectives, it challenges prejudices and
misconceptions. And in Tamale I learnt that, contrary to popular wisdom, you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">can</i> make an omelette without breaking
eggs.</span>
</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmVZWsISOpDIpLbh97LwJSTVIAr3xy-yHHeFuxVUdJXgTIRtY3f26adO5yHA-ltZhuUeyJAaQ353FLIdDU1dCqc1JZfLVrDaL14NJSGQb3oxWKS5_sNuc7vy4Mt629BXl-mBZk3mTlIIg/s1600/IMG_0406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmVZWsISOpDIpLbh97LwJSTVIAr3xy-yHHeFuxVUdJXgTIRtY3f26adO5yHA-ltZhuUeyJAaQ353FLIdDU1dCqc1JZfLVrDaL14NJSGQb3oxWKS5_sNuc7vy4Mt629BXl-mBZk3mTlIIg/s1600/IMG_0406.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A Tamale omelette</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Hannah and I were tired
and hungry when we arrived at <a href="http://asempalodge.com/" target="_blank">Asempe Lodge</a> after an early flight from Accra to Ghana’s
hot, dry north. Before even checking into the room, we ordered omelette and
toast – the standard (i.e. only) breakfast option in most Ghanaian hotels. I
emphasised to the chef that I wanted ‘no meat, no fish’; experience has taught
me how easily these sneak into the simplest of dishes here. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Fifteen minutes later, she
brought our breakfasts … two plates of steamed cabbage and carrots. I looked at
it suspiciously. “This is how we do omelettes here, if you don’t eat eggs”,
came the reply to my inquiring look. It’s rare to find a Ghanaian who is sensitive to vegetarianism – most don’t consider even chickens to be animals – and
it was pretty tasty for steamed cabbage and carrots. Besides, anywhere that
serves fresh coffee can be forgiven.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLZ2dkZ2h8wsqsG2k11R_MCFwwDsTYFInWE-vZnkDg-rcNyGjt6YEyR64IXSdkKIGrp4dqavKxaMOiRrX6YaC9xVj4EFxOhBBmNV6u4ZJf5Dn0uZrQ2e31xO2PMPPvMG5K8DOVNgjUO8/s1600/IMG_0494.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXLZ2dkZ2h8wsqsG2k11R_MCFwwDsTYFInWE-vZnkDg-rcNyGjt6YEyR64IXSdkKIGrp4dqavKxaMOiRrX6YaC9xVj4EFxOhBBmNV6u4ZJf5Dn0uZrQ2e31xO2PMPPvMG5K8DOVNgjUO8/s1600/IMG_0494.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Tro tro and truck</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Asempa Lodge also
challenges the perception that first impressions count. As you turn into its
dusty driveway, off the Tamale–Kumasi road, the hotel looks a bit run down and half-finished. Storms have twice blown off the outside restaurant's roof, but a new local-style grass roof is forthcoming.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFg_T8ejTR8QlR7AyT6Meo0FbAWDa0VPrgdsDxs95kbj3k7ki0WXEQqKqzM-5efXgwI7DLgae-t-GTWxKp-0Rh0wGDNzXP9kw84-id35lEtJDFxBNeXsW8r9ZerjVsNJleIKtNunsaOUQ/s1600/IMG_0500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFg_T8ejTR8QlR7AyT6Meo0FbAWDa0VPrgdsDxs95kbj3k7ki0WXEQqKqzM-5efXgwI7DLgae-t-GTWxKp-0Rh0wGDNzXP9kw84-id35lEtJDFxBNeXsW8r9ZerjVsNJleIKtNunsaOUQ/s1600/IMG_0500.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Home time</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The lodge has many attractions in the meantime.
The rooms are clean and cool – a vital factor in baking
north Ghana. And while the grounds need a few more trees or
shrubs – the resident donkey ate the last lot planted – new saplings have been planted. And the grounds are blissfully peaceful compared to the busy nearby city, and
full of colourful starlings, kingfishers and rollers.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The lodge’s main asset,
though, is its staff. Friendly, helpful and competent, which isn’t always the
case in Ghana, the four young people who run Asempa Lodge catered to our every need. They organised our bus
onwards to Bolgatanga, and car hire for later in the week. Rather than explore
Tamale’s meagre attractions, we decided to spend the afternoon sipping drinks
outside. Joseph, the lodge manager, taught us the local version of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mancala" target="_blank">mancala</a></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">, taking great delight in repeatedly thrashing us</span>. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_SwNN790i00MgJtgPfYpyh-gG-3Q9mhtXhqpb-NFTOSrVczHniCvoP9r7-QsRbp-yInZQrLQHD6OcpAymgC9JzhLH32brGTEjN1CxiP7XdrUo4QgtfwUowQv6vcuUuu-2msB_2Wl8Pw/s1600/IMG_0495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv_SwNN790i00MgJtgPfYpyh-gG-3Q9mhtXhqpb-NFTOSrVczHniCvoP9r7-QsRbp-yInZQrLQHD6OcpAymgC9JzhLH32brGTEjN1CxiP7XdrUo4QgtfwUowQv6vcuUuu-2msB_2Wl8Pw/s1600/IMG_0495.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The Tamale Gandalf</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">As we sat, an assortment
of local characters headed along the road outside – farmers carrying their
goods on small trucks, school children cycling home, local women returning from
the mosque. I ordered a beer, sat back in the shade, and watched Tamale life trundle by.</span></div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-90683382283652573802013-03-01T08:25:00.000-08:002013-09-06T07:14:31.929-07:00Sierra Leone part 3: Paradise<style>
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<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBo9y2o3WVetpi4uV30s_R7h3oUy9nX-4gqUPKs48tttM4CkxTKqJtGLoUv5_mL_4gsWagSGp8TZNhZWpHiEyNIczldbcLKcMNCqB7WtF-RV-jg3mpAwdG1QPTyNAOq28PY6EjP2cHWg/s1600/IMG_0269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjBo9y2o3WVetpi4uV30s_R7h3oUy9nX-4gqUPKs48tttM4CkxTKqJtGLoUv5_mL_4gsWagSGp8TZNhZWpHiEyNIczldbcLKcMNCqB7WtF-RV-jg3mpAwdG1QPTyNAOq28PY6EjP2cHWg/s1600/IMG_0269.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">John Obey beach</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Sierra Leone’s highest
mountain <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2013/02/sierra-leone-part-1-towards-mount.html" target="_blank">is hard to reach</a>, but its other star attractions are much easier to get to. Running south from Freetown are a string of stunningly beautiful
beaches: dark green rain forest runs down steep mountains to meet golden
beaches, with the surf crashing a few metres away. Add in a few lagoons,
monkeys and palm trees and you have a taste of paradise; no wonder one of these
beaches <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/paradise-regained-in-sierra-leone-1677671.html" target="_blank">featured in a Bounty advert</a>. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The question is: how long
will it remain unspoilt? The Government of Sierra Leone recently reversed a law
banning <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-20897658" target="_blank">sand mining along the peninsula</a>. Up to 200 trucks a day now leave the
beaches loaded with their golden treasure, which is used in the building
industry. This is already having a negative impact: one beach has already lost
the sand bank that attracted surfers, and others are also under threat.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Jvfq8Ktaeu2Wfp2RISOos0yIIgTFxBM_P4MWCaJPxVj_zDqsWIfFTxS0gxMw3tav2gax6Zo1yUCntb0go1XD5Kt6YkfUWvSyw83vzNO8-9RK2d5Xs-SxoVIg_kx-Eb67uWj1DlK0Daw/s1600/IMG_0354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Jvfq8Ktaeu2Wfp2RISOos0yIIgTFxBM_P4MWCaJPxVj_zDqsWIfFTxS0gxMw3tav2gax6Zo1yUCntb0go1XD5Kt6YkfUWvSyw83vzNO8-9RK2d5Xs-SxoVIg_kx-Eb67uWj1DlK0Daw/s1600/IMG_0354.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">River Number Two beach</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Perhaps a bigger concern
is the tourism industry itself. The country’s civil war no doubt affected the
country’s popularity as a destination (a small concern amid such atrocities, of
course) but as the country develops, it seems inevitable that tourism will
increase. Sierra Leone could soon rival the Gambia and Senegal as a West
African winter sun hotspot, which will doubtless lead to more roads, more
hotels, more people. The forested hills around Freetown are already being
felled indiscriminately as the city expands. How long before the hills behind
the beaches follow suit?</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And yet there are signs
that Sierra Leone may be choosing a different path to the mass tourism that has
blighted other coastal regions. The few operations that have established
themselves already are small-scale, community-run operations rather than ugly tower-block
hotels. At <a href="http://rivernumbertwo.com/index.html" target="_blank">River Number Two</a>, the beach halfway along the coast that starred in
the Bounty advert, the local community has established small lodges, a bar and
restaurant, supported by a German charity, Welthungerhilfe. The development is
low-key and does little to affect the scenery. While the pricing is a little
ambitious - $60 for a 2-hour canoe trip seems pretty high in this poor country –
the community are rightly proud of their achievements.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt9zW5K7QbLG2aPl4T0_NgIXirMlsYQtxGUyWHrrXFoa9rkSkKZSW9OuM3NQwQrB95PL9MSrwg44mqi4lfnbDyR8JkXgnAK3k13RfdEsj-HIwHHOKeajp9Yaz9FAq_43yr28wzfhNlS_4/s1600/IMG_0333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt9zW5K7QbLG2aPl4T0_NgIXirMlsYQtxGUyWHrrXFoa9rkSkKZSW9OuM3NQwQrB95PL9MSrwg44mqi4lfnbDyR8JkXgnAK3k13RfdEsj-HIwHHOKeajp9Yaz9FAq_43yr28wzfhNlS_4/s1600/IMG_0333.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Tribewanted</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Another interesting
project is <a href="http://beta.tribewanted.com/index.php/en/" target="_blank">Tribewanted</a>, a volun-tourism camp recently established at <a href="http://beta.tribewanted.com/index.php/en/locations/john-obey-beach" target="_blank">John Obey beach</a>, a little further south along the peninsula. The camp was set up by Ben
Keene, an Englishman, following a successful project in Fiji. The Tribewanted
approach is to use the Internet, particularly social networking, to establish a
‘tribe’ of travellers looking for something different. Rather than just laze on
the beach, ‘tribe members’ help with community projects, work alongside local
people in the garden and kitchen. In short, they share the lifestyle of the
local people rather than just popping in as tourists.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAuBj19mTzlmHf84_ZRUBAVqJfGirCgmrnAvpKaX5j5pEAY0n6incCNe4YHwX8QfSwGfnUUv-hDuIk4LgSk4yTodXXhMjC7hBSClvwbR0wppJNg-Y8PP1X-MMi7-7Fpa7AQmLgz844ASU/s1600/IMG_0323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAuBj19mTzlmHf84_ZRUBAVqJfGirCgmrnAvpKaX5j5pEAY0n6incCNe4YHwX8QfSwGfnUUv-hDuIk4LgSk4yTodXXhMjC7hBSClvwbR0wppJNg-Y8PP1X-MMi7-7Fpa7AQmLgz844ASU/s1600/IMG_0323.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Tribewanted's kitchen</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In principle at least. It’s
perhaps unfair to judge a project based on one night’s stay, but there was
little integration during my brief visit. At lunch, a Sierra Leonean woman cooked
and served the food, which the (all white) tribe members ate and cleared away.
During the day, most visitors sat in the hammocks or swam in the lagoon while
the locals worked in the garden. And in the evening, the Leoneans drank and
sang in their bar (a few metres away in the village) while the tourists –
mostly NGO workers from Freetown who stay at weekends – drank and chatted in
theirs. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Maybe that’s how it should
be. The villagers of John Obey are happy with the extra income the project has
brought to their lives, and probably don’t want to spend their evenings
discussing the power cuts in Freetown or where else to visit in ‘Salone’. Maybe
not all visitors want to drink palm wine or listen to reggae played on a slowly
dying cassette player. And if Sierra Leone can establish more of these community-run,
low-impact beach resorts before the chain hotels clear the forest (or the sand
miners clear the beaches), then so much the better.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkd5Ge-eVbMgjROfaze6iQdAlqVsDwJQzSQ8DUw1XHMfkiuxDfWziRPuPYsB17GagA1ePbFqcKy0NbYZQy2wQZqqlJ3qXHCpHtWA9Pso1rzk4UttcLF4LvIam6xskgQQCME22rELeGSg/s1600/IMG_0285.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTkd5Ge-eVbMgjROfaze6iQdAlqVsDwJQzSQ8DUw1XHMfkiuxDfWziRPuPYsB17GagA1ePbFqcKy0NbYZQy2wQZqqlJ3qXHCpHtWA9Pso1rzk4UttcLF4LvIam6xskgQQCME22rELeGSg/s1600/IMG_0285.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F2.bp.blogspot.com%2F-oeeBTzhIIdU%2FUVWzyksqjeI%2FAAAAAAAABGk%2Fnr8fHa6OlRI%2Fs1600%2FIMG_0333.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt9zW5K7QbLG2aPl4T0_NgIXirMlsYQtxGUyWHrrXFoa9rkSkKZSW9OuM3NQwQrB95PL9MSrwg44mqi4lfnbDyR8JkXgnAK3k13RfdEsj-HIwHHOKeajp9Yaz9FAq_43yr28wzfhNlS_4/s1600/IMG_0333.jpg" -->Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-67921186031452946602013-02-26T03:27:00.000-08:002013-03-17T03:34:42.088-07:00Sierra Leone part 2: Mount Bintumani<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Arriving at Sinekoro just
after midday, Kevin, Miriam and I were keen to make up for the time lost
<a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2013/02/sierra-leone-part-1-towards-mount.html" target="_blank">driving around the farthest corners of Sierra Leone</a>. Not so fast … things are
not rushed in this part of the world. </span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFVHuso_Q8FAWeYffBjAEk0AmLEBRtLsBtYtKfk5HWtpJZ1j4cT9aj-_TPxf4UIrDPiPAvlrQVyKvjrTpKyCgxjkiMHI9je1Vx2mWCa5iwLqfCbIpRjOX_iwhRS85PdunhO7hb9DPaV8/s1600/IMG_9957.jpg" height="212" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sinekoro</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">First we had to meet the chief
of Sinekoro and the village elders, to ask permission to climb Mount Bintumani and
hire a guide and porter. The first part was easy; we were welcomed as the first
visitors that year, the River Seli having only just dropped sufficiently to
allow cars through. The second part not so: “They are all off in their fields;
you will have to go tomorrow”. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr0aP5b80mph2SsMKRBXE4Npt27P_nQv_4zoUbDZZ_mOUkbChyphenhyphenwsPbXnET_z4aqjDNNgue8JkkDK-sLGo8vW7pZ_pKA1-LMF2Ywyqr8XKket0YJ3B7DsopPDXHNJ68AYinT0G7MqQV12c/s1600/IMG_9961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr0aP5b80mph2SsMKRBXE4Npt27P_nQv_4zoUbDZZ_mOUkbChyphenhyphenwsPbXnET_z4aqjDNNgue8JkkDK-sLGo8vW7pZ_pKA1-LMF2Ywyqr8XKket0YJ3B7DsopPDXHNJ68AYinT0G7MqQV12c/s1600/IMG_9961.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">On the way</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia;">This was not an attractive
proposition in a village without any obvious supply of beer. Fortunately Alusine,
our driver, once again came to the rescue. After a long discussion in Krio that
involved most of the village and a lot of pointing, it was agreed that Hassan
and Moses, two teenagers, would take us and we could leave straight away. We
repacked our bags, watched by a crowd of excitable schoolchildren, and set off
towards Bintumani.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Shortly after leaving the
village and its farms we reached the rain forest that covers much of the Loma
Mountains, of which Bintumani is the highest peak. The forest canopy was alive
with bird calls and even the occasional howl from a monkey; always hidden from
view but seeming close nonetheless. The sunlight glistened through the leaves and
we saw colourful flowers and peculiar fruits. I marvelled at the experience of
being in an unspoilt montane rain forest: the sights, the sounds, the smells.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26dy9jr8bkbLk02-5vvfTdaAmxEwVAtfkUFKtwrVouQYsrk4bg3vxeiwjUckw72uDNMgScW02m5203eUm6R2WyvpL2E-uHFw8SQfaPr8FP8zh-3035ZcZcqI3SnhUu29gZxBCazeqrb0/s1600/IMG_9972.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj26dy9jr8bkbLk02-5vvfTdaAmxEwVAtfkUFKtwrVouQYsrk4bg3vxeiwjUckw72uDNMgScW02m5203eUm6R2WyvpL2E-uHFw8SQfaPr8FP8zh-3035ZcZcqI3SnhUu29gZxBCazeqrb0/s1600/IMG_9972.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In the rain forest</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">For about an hour. By
then, my T-shirt was drenched, my heavy backpack was dragging me back down the
steep slope, and the forest was no longer an environmental wonder, but rather a
collection of spiky green things that caught my clothes, tripped me up or
flicked into my eyes. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3vfWV8WRDbcjLoCueMxLHrwaVPNqKyHj5NVGOgsAcuXVxCARxEhZ-18CvrsXEqsE-sqCbFal1WeqfC3laDXEMxoWD55nemIsazlOJ1zAGh_h6DJVHHP_KspKSelytGINj8kvgLiSdzUA/s1600/IMG_0107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3vfWV8WRDbcjLoCueMxLHrwaVPNqKyHj5NVGOgsAcuXVxCARxEhZ-18CvrsXEqsE-sqCbFal1WeqfC3laDXEMxoWD55nemIsazlOJ1zAGh_h6DJVHHP_KspKSelytGINj8kvgLiSdzUA/s1600/IMG_0107.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Hassan</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">And our first proper break
provided little respite. Camp 1 is the first water refilling point on the path,
making it an obvious stopping place, but it was also overrun with bees when we
arrived. They buzzed around our heads and between our legs, around our drinks
and food. One brave soul then made its way up my shorts. In case it needed
clarifying, an angry bee in your pants is not a pleasant experience; after some
frantic swatting and swearing, and one dead bee later, we set off once more on
the steep path through the forest. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAXDVGD5pIPsryhz3ag3Wwur2VfwLkR2Tn_F2ZffLPEZrQoIkIMmYiihLl7Xp_d0TBzBEUVZ4tHqFnXLvM9jj1XeE2WBtNnqe3D3M4f-KLhcJ7kvjK6tEIQRY1ThzBA1F4O47WOXlg58/s1600/IMG_9997.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaAXDVGD5pIPsryhz3ag3Wwur2VfwLkR2Tn_F2ZffLPEZrQoIkIMmYiihLl7Xp_d0TBzBEUVZ4tHqFnXLvM9jj1XeE2WBtNnqe3D3M4f-KLhcJ7kvjK6tEIQRY1ThzBA1F4O47WOXlg58/s1600/IMG_9997.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">After four hours, I had
had enough. Our guides showed little awareness of our exhaustion or heavy packs
(they hadn’t offered to carry them), hurrying us along without a rest. Having
finally caught up with Moses, I asked impatiently what the rush was. “Hassan is
afraid of the forest, and I am afraid of the dark”, he told me simply. So much
for our fearless guides. </span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOOmCe99u9zTnYja0EQ8P-_J1IOvF0cMk-QKmSTMf4iuwMsN1pmSdfOh7KXuogKsUj0nLLohTeBg2WoGqGECH15v9hkNQIO7OXbigKofvHPMI10-FseEcDPuvQ9BniYABJeIaT_BSwb0/s1600/IMG_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOOmCe99u9zTnYja0EQ8P-_J1IOvF0cMk-QKmSTMf4iuwMsN1pmSdfOh7KXuogKsUj0nLLohTeBg2WoGqGECH15v9hkNQIO7OXbigKofvHPMI10-FseEcDPuvQ9BniYABJeIaT_BSwb0/s1600/IMG_0004.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camp fire</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">They were no doubt as
relieved as us to reach the forest edge, where the shoulder of the slope breaks
abruptly into a clearing – Camp 2, our target for the day. It was instantly
clear why people go to such effort to climb Mount Bintumani. The view across
the Loma Mountains was unforgettable: the sun was setting behind an endless expanse
of misty peaks that arose from the surrounding carpet of forest. I found a rock
still warm from the sun, lay back and admired the spectacular scene below me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Hassan made a fire, on which
we were soon cooking dinner. We ate beans and drank tea with the calls of
baboons, chimpanzees and antelope coming from the surrounding forest.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2sRHIqdBmUc0Ws3F4Rq1V2cOYZTzrPRR3TNC5yf-k9wKspmGaZINfkW8tY3pX7wd2w9noBalaBDVHMZJpnvhn2RsFC2-m1QNGJ_nKJ_4oc5EHlPPGvHpQekjqb5O-wA31kjihcc6bic/s1600/IMG_9976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2sRHIqdBmUc0Ws3F4Rq1V2cOYZTzrPRR3TNC5yf-k9wKspmGaZINfkW8tY3pX7wd2w9noBalaBDVHMZJpnvhn2RsFC2-m1QNGJ_nKJ_4oc5EHlPPGvHpQekjqb5O-wA31kjihcc6bic/s1600/IMG_9976.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The Loma Mountains</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*****</span>
<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimQE4q9ZTWQQjIeKbqxLDJTX0iPt6rZTBI8OhB2KXQPE7Wnd6M-agLI8wVKvZu-ccwTVLlNOUueOyO-ys5ESEstHGoAk5Gn4RlcRLpBiOsuXnf8PJ77DfmEiY7LftFq8MXg7_8Nj4GD8/s1600/IMG_0036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimQE4q9ZTWQQjIeKbqxLDJTX0iPt6rZTBI8OhB2KXQPE7Wnd6M-agLI8wVKvZu-ccwTVLlNOUueOyO-ys5ESEstHGoAk5Gn4RlcRLpBiOsuXnf8PJ77DfmEiY7LftFq8MXg7_8Nj4GD8/s1600/IMG_0036.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">First glimpse of the summit</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After a quick breakfast,
Moses led the way to the summit. The route was easier than the previous day, across
open grassland broken only by patches of forest in the small valleys. The grass
is burnt each year – possibly by farmers, possibly by natural fires – and the
charred clumps gave the landscape an other-worldly feel as we approached the rocky
summit peak. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGSmVj9TjKRu4mIvp4MmO1iKyUHwbL0MWcVlgUc0a-BKrqIMmTFkba_-F7q4sjRhMGRkbRwcqxPWMs3EmIX3l478nHAydLuAbLMZ5hSc2jwVZqqIuwmH4__qzWiMbN1xsa3KQq85Uv684/s1600/IMG_0050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGSmVj9TjKRu4mIvp4MmO1iKyUHwbL0MWcVlgUc0a-BKrqIMmTFkba_-F7q4sjRhMGRkbRwcqxPWMs3EmIX3l478nHAydLuAbLMZ5hSc2jwVZqqIuwmH4__qzWiMbN1xsa3KQq85Uv684/s1600/IMG_0050.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">To the top</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The Loma Mountains are protected,
partly as a forest reserve but perhaps more by their inaccessibility. There is
little logging or hunting in the forest and the region is still full of
wildlife, albeit mostly hidden from sight. We saw a troop of baboons, several rock
hyraxes and a lone buffalo grazing far below. But it was easy to believe that
much more lives among the slopes and forests of the mountains, safely away from
almost all human interference.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxatHMqiGHGX9ZgGWOso2EBXCtZbdOsoqvnVWeOUva-EjlpVeRvSOSTEVscQQ4TaJElUJWhw_V6Ei_9hW3IhbzqVoiR1-7TdWC9K91FwY4WA35zXv-fs3qwqVBXHDLNGWOLKlNO_z9-j4/s1600/IMG_0073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxatHMqiGHGX9ZgGWOso2EBXCtZbdOsoqvnVWeOUva-EjlpVeRvSOSTEVscQQ4TaJElUJWhw_V6Ei_9hW3IhbzqVoiR1-7TdWC9K91FwY4WA35zXv-fs3qwqVBXHDLNGWOLKlNO_z9-j4/s1600/IMG_0073.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The final climb</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">That remoteness became
apparent for a different reason as we neared the final steep climb through the rocks
to the summit. Normally I would ascend such a climb with little concern, but I
was suddenly aware that I was a long, long way from any form of help. A day and
a half from Sinekoro; another bumpy day’s journey from Kabala, and I wasn’t
even sure there was a hospital there. With some extremely careful
bum-shuffling, in spite of a still-raw bee sting, I made it carefully up the slope
and onto the summit plateau. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Regardless of how high, or
how demanding the climb, the summit routine is always the same. A drink, a
snack, a photo – this time complete with the Ghana Mountaineers banner Kevin
had lugged all the way from Accra – and then back down. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztu3DE4PhFAuXnMLxQ8lSg2rBV__Fp1mwJ5q43XvfB-2DEyj764tl0hnA3ep5JDP-IKZnww2Fhq_XkxEgZL4wlwnLs9Vdng8fKxj5EjFiL99WBufWzbwqTa2IBc7Q-2lmi1UTMxFkfzs/s1600/IMG_0064.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztu3DE4PhFAuXnMLxQ8lSg2rBV__Fp1mwJ5q43XvfB-2DEyj764tl0hnA3ep5JDP-IKZnww2Fhq_XkxEgZL4wlwnLs9Vdng8fKxj5EjFiL99WBufWzbwqTa2IBc7Q-2lmi1UTMxFkfzs/s1600/IMG_0064.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">At the summit</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We picked up Hassan at
Camp 2 and descended through the forest. Going downhill through the rain forest
was no easier – leaf litter doesn’t make a good path – and my legs were barely
functioning as we neared the village again. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Alusine was waiting for us,
fairly impatiently. He hadn’t called his boss – or, more importantly, his wife –
for three days, with no mobile coverage in the bush, and he was keen to get
going. His nephew also looked ready to go home, and will probably think twice
about offering directions again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYnlFcMXjYhBGB9ESU5cMEY2tavXalqWwvi7y0HUVBe_8YZiMjs50QX0JulyzTsXcl28LX8aFLT1plabmi-Flbs2z9nn5oc_xxwGterixxbmJYEU2SQIgn5Cb3By73kPwzaTJsQS7h3eU/s1600/IMG_0089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYnlFcMXjYhBGB9ESU5cMEY2tavXalqWwvi7y0HUVBe_8YZiMjs50QX0JulyzTsXcl28LX8aFLT1plabmi-Flbs2z9nn5oc_xxwGterixxbmJYEU2SQIgn5Cb3By73kPwzaTJsQS7h3eU/s1600/IMG_0089.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A plant</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Caked in sweat and mud from
the walk, I pondered whether we should get into his car before washing; I wouldn’t
have let three such filthy people into my car. But then I wouldn’t have driven
my car through the bush, across deep rivers or along narrow motorbike tracks. Alusine
was clearly a more laid-back soul than me, or maybe it wasn’t his car. We waved
goodbye to villagers of Sinekoro and piled in. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Bumping along the road, I
looked back on our trip, not least the mistakes we had made. We hadn’t taken a
map; our guides hadn’t brought any food or shelter (they shared ours); I hadn’t
considered that Sinekoro would have no tourist facilities beyond a committee of
elders to make things even more difficult. And the hike had taken us to an
extremely remote location, without doubt the furthest I had ever been from
civilisation. But if you go looking for an adventure, you can’t complain if you
find one. And Mount Bintumani is certainly an adventure.</span></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5VV0jxnfdZ1tfHxy3-SgRqBE4k6HkUPJprHgEI0Kx0rIr3cEYf80KCddfRrherril5Un14quTizA6uAQD5xZ7IS4T0fRt1jvEFcHtHwNa-0qKZKE9j65Y-nxpOfHcXz-MUuQCyNEv8AI/s1600/IMG_0059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5VV0jxnfdZ1tfHxy3-SgRqBE4k6HkUPJprHgEI0Kx0rIr3cEYf80KCddfRrherril5Un14quTizA6uAQD5xZ7IS4T0fRt1jvEFcHtHwNa-0qKZKE9j65Y-nxpOfHcXz-MUuQCyNEv8AI/s1600/IMG_0059.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Mount Bintumani</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGNUlrJpLMM8QlMceBIz92Yan4j7fDPvYIhVoXsi_aoHnUTKLRjxIdpbnwGw2cVK1ssDPbkasI78Tn5ZeYZSaI2bEc8Gba9YLY3R1P48ru2H_8CuKn-2KJYmMIGuRxyoFL2lpjFGRiKkg/s1600/IMG_9944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGNUlrJpLMM8QlMceBIz92Yan4j7fDPvYIhVoXsi_aoHnUTKLRjxIdpbnwGw2cVK1ssDPbkasI78Tn5ZeYZSaI2bEc8Gba9YLY3R1P48ru2H_8CuKn-2KJYmMIGuRxyoFL2lpjFGRiKkg/s1600/IMG_9944.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sierra Leone</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</style><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> Ever heard of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Bintumani" target="_blank">Mount Bintumani</a>? Neither had I until Kevin from the <a href="http://www.ghana-mountaineers.com/" target="_blank">Ghana Mountaineers</a> suggested a
trip to Sierra Leone to climb it. After five minutes on Google I had discovered
it was West Africa’s second highest mountain, an easy-ish climb, and you might
see chimpanzees. That was good enough for me; I signed up.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">What wasn’t mentioned on
the Internet was how tricky it is to actually get there. The problems started
before we had even reached Sierra Leone. The country’s embassy in Accra was
reluctant to give us visas, asking for increasingly obscure bits of paperwork. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Assuming they wanted a
‘little something’, Kevin and I visited in person, but we had misjudged the
ambassador; he was genuinely concerned for our safety. ‘’It’s a very long way,
Mount Bintumani,” he told us. “Not easy to reach at all.” We perhaps should
have listened to his advice a bit more carefully. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Even Freetown, the capital
city, isn’t that easy to reach. For reasons unclear, the country’s main airport
was built at Lungi, on the opposite bank of the wide and fairly turbulent Sierra
Leone River, necessitating a bumpy boat ride to even reach the capital. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And upon arrival, we
discovered our preparations had been futile. The hotel denied all knowledge
of our booking, despite a print-out of their email confirming it; the car hire
company had lent all its vehicles to a mining company. It was beginning to feel
as if Sierra Leone wanted to keep its mountain secret. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Fortunately, Kevin’s friends in Freetown helped us find an alternative hotel and car hire company, and as we
sat down for a beer on the Sunday night, watching the sun set behind Lumley
Beach it felt like the worst hurdles were behind us. We were wrong.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">******</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The directions to Mount
Bintumani sounded reasonably simple: drive to the town of Kabala, then take the
dirt road for three hours through the bush to a village called Sinekoro. Our
driver, Alusine, picked us up bright and early in the morning and had few
concerns about the trip. His nephew lived in Kabala and would know the way, he assured
us. We loaded our bags and set out along the mountain road from Freetown. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin8IraVMwmyu_nT-hDtPE1UAuQ-1P7lgIE0RTmfn0r-rAaA1LRQduyNbys-leyTkla4xxtOofbExqQAJfXQq-1QC2NS0OLEpiaNusHSZ3l0e-CK7JLvGDbb20CZfOoTPyJwF0LG6x3aAU/s1600/IMG_9911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin8IraVMwmyu_nT-hDtPE1UAuQ-1P7lgIE0RTmfn0r-rAaA1LRQduyNbys-leyTkla4xxtOofbExqQAJfXQq-1QC2NS0OLEpiaNusHSZ3l0e-CK7JLvGDbb20CZfOoTPyJwF0LG6x3aAU/s1600/IMG_9911.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In the bush</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The five-hour drive to
Kabala was relatively uneventful. Alusine was clearly a disciple of the ‘horn
first, brakes later’ school of driving, and Sierra Leone has its fair share of
potholes. But the main hardship was his love of <a href="http://www.philcollins.co.uk/" target="_blank">Phil Collins</a>. Hour after hour,
the 80s balladeer crackled his greatest hits out of the speakers, Alusine’s
well-loved tape clearly wearing from repeated use. Once was ok; by the eighth
repeat, I was going slightly mad.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">So it was a relief in more
ways than one to reach Kabala. After a quick lunch stop, we collected Alusine’s
nephew and headed off. This is where the real adventure
starts, I thought, settling back to enjoy the ride as our 4x4 lurched from side
to side along the rutted dirt road. Soon after leaving the town, we were deep
in the bush. The road wound its way through lush green forest, occasionally
broken by villages of mud huts, from which children appeared to run
after our car, waving. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPld6JvqhpHiTQ8X4NGWTzibwrX-kQG9ihSuirfiN8JkSmv7zxlYI-6cQqZ-hBFIAtL_pZ9vfWISsxXkW8DuTwPL5zzlDPUlbIf3WB3ixfy1S3F1pc8wAItFfHlceffDkqXK5YxVoZIbw/s1600/IMG_9899.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPld6JvqhpHiTQ8X4NGWTzibwrX-kQG9ihSuirfiN8JkSmv7zxlYI-6cQqZ-hBFIAtL_pZ9vfWISsxXkW8DuTwPL5zzlDPUlbIf3WB3ixfy1S3F1pc8wAItFfHlceffDkqXK5YxVoZIbw/s1600/IMG_9899.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The police station. Not sure where.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">After four hours, three
questions circled in my head: why is it taking so long? Why is Alusine’s nephew
so quiet? And where is the bloody mountain? You would expect to see West
Africa’s second highest mountain from a fair distance away, but there was no
sign of any peaks on the horizon. Dusk was upon us and when we were stopped at
an isolated police road check, it seemed like a good opportunity to get
directions. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Four friendly policemen
were sat listening to the closing minutes of the League Cup final between
Swansea and Bradford – there is nowhere too remote for the tentacles of English
football – and they showed us a large but basic map in their headquarters. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZ7PSgujoCTSPcWZiF9T-y1PVZDcEVliP7W06LKQAUpYZTbyLVD5J-HA3raTIrLAVItq2Gjh2F_QSfXj5o9pozjeTh1v5YM37MKZKbmTYshQep7pKsQuM0QjKLbm5xWF9j1qeo4bhiHM/s1600/IMG_9904.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZ7PSgujoCTSPcWZiF9T-y1PVZDcEVliP7W06LKQAUpYZTbyLVD5J-HA3raTIrLAVItq2Gjh2F_QSfXj5o9pozjeTh1v5YM37MKZKbmTYshQep7pKsQuM0QjKLbm5xWF9j1qeo4bhiHM/s1600/IMG_9904.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Spot Sinekoro pt. I</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7JN5GAfdD2YEck4Uvyl6Svzpfx_V1J8EHboxLS2q1v6wAcvn3CRq8b3tnFpDtI8i0b3oXklVmotGUwGEB8i9E25QOpwXX9g41sDbmTUD83k3TNNxNtWxaB_STn1TRsL9nmbXwkG4u5II/s1600/IMG_9903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7JN5GAfdD2YEck4Uvyl6Svzpfx_V1J8EHboxLS2q1v6wAcvn3CRq8b3tnFpDtI8i0b3oXklVmotGUwGEB8i9E25QOpwXX9g41sDbmTUD83k3TNNxNtWxaB_STn1TRsL9nmbXwkG4u5II/s1600/IMG_9903.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Spot Sinekoro pt. II</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Note to others heading to
Bintumani – there are TWO villages called Sinekoro. And we had gone to the
wrong one, which was nearer to the Guinean border than the mountain. Thirty
miles out may not sound far, but in rural Sierra Leone, it’s a long way. We
took photos of the map in the hope they might help us and set off once again. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">With
darkness falling and still little idea where we were, we pulled into a village
called Gberifeh (we found the name out later; no signs out here) and decided to camp for the night. Alusine asked the elderly chief if we could
stay over and we set up our tents, watched by a large crowd of intrigued
villagers. Despite having been hired for one day only, Alusine pulled soap,
toothbrush and a change of clothes from under his seat; clearly this wasn’t his
first time in the bush with foreigners. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkrGpPxtehY2Okw7PTASdZ9_Dx-YnkW1G0WNVUoLPAqmWWpqnhsK3Tiw0qBN-8ifEEhaTZ9P7cF6merbJGrKAguNGcXOmDm-eovB0NI2UduUsKpzxHlzK7aya6unvhs_kMywVTF566BE/s1600/IMG_9914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkrGpPxtehY2Okw7PTASdZ9_Dx-YnkW1G0WNVUoLPAqmWWpqnhsK3Tiw0qBN-8ifEEhaTZ9P7cF6merbJGrKAguNGcXOmDm-eovB0NI2UduUsKpzxHlzK7aya6unvhs_kMywVTF566BE/s1600/IMG_9914.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Gberifeh</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A crowd of
children surrounded my tent, perhaps waiting for me to do something more interesting
than just lie down. As a guest in their village it felt impolite to tell them
to bugger off, but fortunately one of their mothers did the job for me, shooing
them away. And after nearly 18 hours of travelling, I closed my eyes, trying to
work out how we would find the mountain the next day and trying to get Phil Collins’
greatest hits out of my head.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">*****</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">‘Off the beaten track’ is
a cliché used with wild abandon by guidebooks (and indeed travel blogs) but
never again will I use it lightly after our trip the next morning. Alusine had
managed to elicit village-to-village directions from the chief, and we headed
along through them, Alusine ticking off each one as we passed through.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiihlAcGcKw9L8jU_MUj_pn3vjGZOTXeP0ngCNUq9uNva3gUV4n1J-HvFYzd0s3KVcTQIjpOxJJQVZvpcvdlrzHYug6I0ii4X7jBGOFv5BY6Nwi2mlTeg3wFe7Tu2E1VGE0C1z1qH6nxHk/s1600/IMG_0116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiihlAcGcKw9L8jU_MUj_pn3vjGZOTXeP0ngCNUq9uNva3gUV4n1J-HvFYzd0s3KVcTQIjpOxJJQVZvpcvdlrzHYug6I0ii4X7jBGOFv5BY6Nwi2mlTeg3wFe7Tu2E1VGE0C1z1qH6nxHk/s1600/IMG_0116.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Is this a road?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Three hours later we were
halfway down the list but still no sign of the mountain; I noted that the
petrol gauge was also approaching the halfway mark. My confidence wasn’t helped
by the assurances we received in each village. Directions in this
part of Sierra Leone consist solely of ‘not far’ and ‘go straight’; I asked Alusine to
double-check with a passing farmer. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"How de morning? Dey go op di mountain", he asked in Krio. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"Yes, yes, Bintumani dis
way ", came the reply. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"How is de road?", he
asked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">"De road is good", we
were assured. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBbvyzkiMHjCgmCT66OBcL_c5am-kMhpBZtQRXSZH0B0mW0laWnldpc2KSStR4HUrK48-b7wpIuI8n0woBPMN9NO0IvnPvzCF7I9xPru68PWPOgf1_pXUTefFSvoqFWK7DYxrhuTRV84/s1600/IMG_9951.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBbvyzkiMHjCgmCT66OBcL_c5am-kMhpBZtQRXSZH0B0mW0laWnldpc2KSStR4HUrK48-b7wpIuI8n0woBPMN9NO0IvnPvzCF7I9xPru68PWPOgf1_pXUTefFSvoqFWK7DYxrhuTRV84/s1600/IMG_9951.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Crossing the Seli River</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I considered the single
motorbike track and <span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">45</span>°
slope ahead of us, and the dropping petrol gauge; I concluded there weren’t really many options other than
to keep going. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">And then, five minutes later, through a break in
the trees, we saw it … Mount Bintumani, straight ahead. Not exactly close, but
visible for the first time, a mere day and a half into our trip. With renewed
enthusiasm, we sped onwards, crossing the Seli River which cuts off the
mountain during the rainy season. It took three hill starts and a lot of burnt
clutch to get out on the other side, but despite the car lurching violently as
its wheels skidded, we got through. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The last few villages
were ticked off, and we pulled into Sinekoro – the right one, with the
Loma Mountains rearing up just behind. It has taken nearly 30 hours, several
wrong turns, Alusine’s skill behind the wheel, and nerves of steel to cope with
Phil Collins on repeat, but finally – against all odds – we had made it to
Bintumani. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEj16GMh1X3bgBn8Xifz96851OXBLJmxlpughyuV7m3PwgIvRFUhnJHyjBRRuwYU-pDzdGDqtJ7xP05fIMOnCO4adPxuU37zLFVSTor_SWxQAKnvFHm32iyZe9wVASAftUW42a0jRDrus/s1600/IMG_9881.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEj16GMh1X3bgBn8Xifz96851OXBLJmxlpughyuV7m3PwgIvRFUhnJHyjBRRuwYU-pDzdGDqtJ7xP05fIMOnCO4adPxuU37zLFVSTor_SWxQAKnvFHm32iyZe9wVASAftUW42a0jRDrus/s1600/IMG_9881.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Another day in paradise with Phil</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-1589136469116571112013-02-17T00:40:00.000-08:002013-02-21T00:40:39.806-08:00Lagoon
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<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbW9kBG1lncqPFMbO0LXE-Zj4XTTCcCiKyh00qH5-CDDnTcQCIvjkZHkJgtWI58fV4M-FP8ik_9uxgSfFBwGeeFqhr3n-ggdqVl-KgyuG5yHr3JoLx2-w39hKiy9UBMTuxgDZPTiKN04/s1600/IMG_9586.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwbW9kBG1lncqPFMbO0LXE-Zj4XTTCcCiKyh00qH5-CDDnTcQCIvjkZHkJgtWI58fV4M-FP8ik_9uxgSfFBwGeeFqhr3n-ggdqVl-KgyuG5yHr3JoLx2-w39hKiy9UBMTuxgDZPTiKN04/s1600/IMG_9586.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Tudu station</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">A long journey by <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/01/tro-tros.html" target="_blank">tro-tro</a>
– the clunky minibuses that serve as Ghana’s bus network – can be viewed in two
ways. It can be a window into typical Ghanaian life: the chatter among the
passengers; the sights along the way, such as the hawkers that crowd the
windows at every stop; or the radio programmes, which could be anything from vibrant
highlife music to a phone-in testing Bible knowledge.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Or it can be a complete pain
in the arse. Literally; the cushions on most seats lost any sense of padding
years ago. Our trip to Keta Lagoon started firmly in the latter camp.
Forty-five minutes through Accra’s horrendous traffic to Tudu bus station; an
hour waiting for the tro-tro to fill up; then another trip back across the
city. Sweaty, cramped and irritable, we passed our flat on the outskirts of
Accra nearly three hours after leaving it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxC-ZShve2gE-Q-S4eRSYYSwa17eNX-0mkOIzD2yJISA6Ps-1adLjkCNP3tGmjlvYfHz1pO93RD8rAss2qpe6s8lthyimbAi7zXpSoUQURLQsqozUhI-Awbd80rUk6hC9M_IIGCcM5ZXE/s1600/IMG_9611.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxC-ZShve2gE-Q-S4eRSYYSwa17eNX-0mkOIzD2yJISA6Ps-1adLjkCNP3tGmjlvYfHz1pO93RD8rAss2qpe6s8lthyimbAi7zXpSoUQURLQsqozUhI-Awbd80rUk6hC9M_IIGCcM5ZXE/s1600/IMG_9611.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Guinea pigs</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Ultimately, the pay-off in
these journeys lies in the destination. And <a href="http://www.ghanameetmethere.com/" target="_blank">Meet Me There</a> ecolodge, near Keta
Lagoon in Ghana’s southeast corner, made the stiff backs worthwhile. The lodge’s
main attraction is its small saltwater lagoon for swimming, and the menagerie
in the grounds: guinea pigs, rock pythons, two dwarf crocodiles and several
dogs, including three very playful puppies. The resident goats had given birth
that day, and their kid stumbled about while they carried on eating. Bright red fire finches and seedcrackers competed for the seeds in the sand. I even had
a crab nip my little toe, something I didn’t think happened outside of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Beano</i> cartoons.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnsrIVCKLk6L2tXuPyf1zy1H86EGBMcljZVaKJOKiZwLaGEStLL0rBVoVuSwF0PQsr5tQ5qFHMj4iiG1aOSP1dynav7_IWPOKzH8hGS_1PkHYfnpksd1GEBjOK_m5UzDKlN56MnFnw6Q/s1600/IMG_9629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxnsrIVCKLk6L2tXuPyf1zy1H86EGBMcljZVaKJOKiZwLaGEStLL0rBVoVuSwF0PQsr5tQ5qFHMj4iiG1aOSP1dynav7_IWPOKzH8hGS_1PkHYfnpksd1GEBjOK_m5UzDKlN56MnFnw6Q/s1600/IMG_9629.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A West African dwarf crocodile</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The only sad note was the
vervet monkey, which is kept chained up in the corner. The future for this
creature, and all the other animals, should be release in a nature reserve,
which the owners are trying to create nearby. This is, naturally, taking a long
time to negotiate with local people and landowners. Hopefully for the monkey’s
sake, it won’t take much longer. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">*****</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After spending most of
Saturday lazing by the lagoon and playing with the puppies, Hannah and I
decided to explore the local area that afternoon. I had an urge to see the
Volta Estuary; it must be something to do with studying geography. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">We caught a tro-tro for
the (mercifully short) distance to Atetite, a small town by the river. As we
stood, wondering which way to head, a man came over and introduced himself as Prospect
– many Ghanaians have wonderfully descriptive names like this; maybe it’s where
the Spice Girls got the idea. Having just finished his shift as a taxi driver, Prospect
offered to show us around.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuONvzoNlAKNGFCUGERg1RBqW_iGyCeDIExr_POZiwS9_pAB9TgQoogZRdO3F_GDDqHtyliJu5O4ew6VDGhcnqWjxnz7Z-JZFTz3x0A15LUQ8V7ToOvlHOhmKBqZkfNRyScGjikoppUbM/s1600/IMG_9673.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuONvzoNlAKNGFCUGERg1RBqW_iGyCeDIExr_POZiwS9_pAB9TgQoogZRdO3F_GDDqHtyliJu5O4ew6VDGhcnqWjxnz7Z-JZFTz3x0A15LUQ8V7ToOvlHOhmKBqZkfNRyScGjikoppUbM/s1600/IMG_9673.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Atetite beach</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The next two hours were probably
the best tour we have had in Ghana. Prospect showed us the stunning beach by
the estuary, an expanse of bright white sand completely devoid of litter, beach
huts, anything except a few fishermen. Just behind the beach was a series of
small lagoons, similar to the one at Meet Me There and dotted with wading birds
and lined with palm trees. We wandered slowly, soaking up the serenity of this
unspoilt corner of Ghana. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It’s perhaps surprising
that the beach is so unspoilt, but two factors preserve its underdeveloped
nature. The region hard to reach, being several miles off the Keta loop road,
which itself lies some distance of the Accra–Togo road. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The other factor is the
<a href="http://news.peacefmonline.com/social/200911/32425.php" target="_blank">severe coastal erosion</a> in this part of Ghana. The thin strip of land that
separates the vast Keta Lagoon from the sea is being rapidly eaten away and is
threatened by sea level rise, despite the efforts to reinforce the land. Maybe
that is also deterring investors. But, for now at least, it is one of Ghana’s
finest coastal destinations. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1k1K3zfEro_78zt9Ag15bw_oA-XEF32DbUAJur7EswXYj3-bRxsLL6HTIAh4zzD0GfYY_jLBJzv0ZEa16VBnKraEhI0g6ZbjOPHXuxevSCPofwyA628Hw8-3Mz6Cc915MQyh_vBIRfE/s1600/IMG_9688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-1k1K3zfEro_78zt9Ag15bw_oA-XEF32DbUAJur7EswXYj3-bRxsLL6HTIAh4zzD0GfYY_jLBJzv0ZEa16VBnKraEhI0g6ZbjOPHXuxevSCPofwyA628Hw8-3Mz6Cc915MQyh_vBIRfE/s1600/IMG_9688.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Smoking fish</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">After leaving the beach,
Prospect introduced us to the people in his village and the nearby farms. A
group of women showed us how they smoke the small fish caught nearby, and children
ran out of their huts, smilingly demanding to be photographed. This informal
tour was a stark contrast to the organised tour to <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/07/stilts.html" target="_blank">Nzulezo</a>; there, the daily
stream of tourists has understandably made people resentful of people poking
around their homes, or indifferent at least. In Atetite, every person we met
waved, smiled or stopped to shake hands. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">Only on our tro-tro journey back to Meet Me
There did we find someone not pleased to see us. A small baby, wrapped tightly to
her mother’s back, took one glimpse at my white face and started howling, a
petrified look in her eyes. The wailing got louder, much to the amusement of
the other passengers. “She doesn’t like you because you are white”, explained
an old man, laughing racistly and smelling strongly of palm wine. But given the
warmth of our welcome elsewhere, it was hard to feel too offended.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2lvq1hUfaoiHUEFWR7Ek0UdRn4-NPryYoLVOE_gXhJfveFO9W0rQsfbUPG4HpyARIzhWFpR91DOGb-xKnTan9iw2PEnv8m44sJBNFXOsqImQqgOVwWrfFvdt1SAJzmZALvapTMgjyhf8/s1600/IMG_9695.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2lvq1hUfaoiHUEFWR7Ek0UdRn4-NPryYoLVOE_gXhJfveFO9W0rQsfbUPG4HpyARIzhWFpR91DOGb-xKnTan9iw2PEnv8m44sJBNFXOsqImQqgOVwWrfFvdt1SAJzmZALvapTMgjyhf8/s1600/IMG_9695.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In Atetite</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-40278078261123113002013-01-28T04:13:00.000-08:002013-01-29T04:18:19.341-08:00Football
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<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HAXFkBJF8ym32eY0xDS_5lQRPwovNDD6q0DuPGf9kQffBEN3VPIaC9psRjBgKGW3lj2EdQUeCGBVomcdu8cEKf5Vjc2obpNJMtM8LEa-sZK_x1sOlQEOK5wQVU2gfoT3lyGaAt7WeRo/s1600/IMGP4441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0HAXFkBJF8ym32eY0xDS_5lQRPwovNDD6q0DuPGf9kQffBEN3VPIaC9psRjBgKGW3lj2EdQUeCGBVomcdu8cEKf5Vjc2obpNJMtM8LEa-sZK_x1sOlQEOK5wQVU2gfoT3lyGaAt7WeRo/s1600/IMGP4441.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">At a Hearts of Oak match</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/football/african/" target="_blank">African Cup of Nations</a>
is here again and Ghana’s Black Stars are one of the favourites. Their games are
notable for two reasons: they offer a rare chance to see Accra (virtually)
devoid of traffic, and they are one of the few times when Ghana’s many football
fans watch an African game.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">For the rest of the year, people
follow the English Premier League, the Spanish La Liga, and increasingly
Italy’s Serie A and the German Bundesliga. The talk in the bars and ‘football
theatres’ – small set-ups that show the games via South African DSTV – is of
Chelsea, Barcelona, Real Madrid and Man Utd. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm01rI9c_ocj2n7pGisfbIFx8iqnrhnwpyeUlRCHX6AgwE84kujuVrR9n1KkaCloL9STU-x0FjzEBdU9FlJ0BbYVKiwBbgjFqd5TCtIULCSChfFBq5QLC514qD8HmACOZhNGhXD-IY74k/s1600/IMG_9491.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm01rI9c_ocj2n7pGisfbIFx8iqnrhnwpyeUlRCHX6AgwE84kujuVrR9n1KkaCloL9STU-x0FjzEBdU9FlJ0BbYVKiwBbgjFqd5TCtIULCSChfFBq5QLC514qD8HmACOZhNGhXD-IY74k/s1600/IMG_9491.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Epo's</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Debates rage as fans of
the big European teams (and Liverpool) argue about which is the best team, who
are the ‘true champions’, which club has the greatest history. It’s remarkably
heartfelt, considering virtually none of them has seen the teams live, or
likely ever will. The fervour surpasses the atmosphere at Ghanaian league
matches; <a href="http://www.accraheartsofoak.com/site/" target="_blank">Hearts of Oak</a>, Accra’s leading team, rarely sell even a quarter of the
tickets for their games.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">There is interest in other
English teams as well: a few hardy souls will turn up for Wigan v Reading. For
the first time in my life, an in-depth knowledge of lower-league right-backs is
proving useful; certainly more than it did as an opening chat-up line at
university.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Lbmo2rY8NvJEhkCwhOinGOBUtkIFxi9uF6Qfmekw84o7qsfzU2EG52HI2RBaRQtPmCAwVjxztF7peF5Y_9Tk0Y9SRlTf7HOESgkEC3Ff9l3nICQOT1CKr8lu4ruDgyLSwjhJKTiYAJo/s1600/PB100296.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7Lbmo2rY8NvJEhkCwhOinGOBUtkIFxi9uF6Qfmekw84o7qsfzU2EG52HI2RBaRQtPmCAwVjxztF7peF5Y_9Tk0Y9SRlTf7HOESgkEC3Ff9l3nICQOT1CKr8lu4ruDgyLSwjhJKTiYAJo/s1600/PB100296.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Epo's at night</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">One of the most popular
places to watch games in Accra is the terrace bar at Epo Spot in Osu. Its
reputation means you are as likely to be sat next to a Canadian volunteer as a
Ghanaian, but it maintains its friendly chaotic ambiance. The shouting is loud,
the beer is cold, and the aroma of grilled food drifts up from the surrounding
snack bars. </span></div>
<br /><div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkFPakjWqT_ljOlqTeTj957N-0ne4xK7b0GB5Oja3j8F65BRuzvIVjh3WTzg2Iby8uM9q8WeEsnK2Tcg36raCI5TUJvgz3XWox78cKHDP4FJU2v0p-m2B3a-cc4QLuO_PCABZxhP31z8/s1600/IMG_9489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYkFPakjWqT_ljOlqTeTj957N-0ne4xK7b0GB5Oja3j8F65BRuzvIVjh3WTzg2Iby8uM9q8WeEsnK2Tcg36raCI5TUJvgz3XWox78cKHDP4FJU2v0p-m2B3a-cc4QLuO_PCABZxhP31z8/s1600/IMG_9489.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia;">I went there for Ghana’s
last group game in the Cup of Nations, against Niger. <a href="http://edition.radioxyzonline.com/" target="_blank">Radio XYZ</a> was
commentating directly from the venue, adding an authentic atmosphere to their
coverage. <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/football/21044464" target="_blank">Ghana won 3-0</a>, an easy victory to top their group. But many fans are still
downbeat about the team’s overall chances following the experience of last year’s
tournament.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Ghana lost to
Zambia in the <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/sport/0/football/16933389" target="_blank">semi-finals in 2012</a>, with Asamoah Gyan missing another penalty to follow his effort in the World Cup quarter-final. As the final whistle blew, the fans
at Epo's were all in agreement: the team had failed to live up to expectations; the
coach was clueless; the star players were more interested in money; they never
win on penalties. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">They clearly watch too much overseas football – apart from
the heat and the smell of grilled goat, it was just like watching England.
Hopefully they can go two better this time around – not least because it will
keep Accra traffic-free for a good few hours.</span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXYhPHXPbaSxOQa44SvUBDMPIoVOK0mpGVHixppxfzZQd9wUbP5ESUrcdRAn55Tca-jUtMVZJkDYUKzKKwbv-mvaCpPGA0RvMDNUGoGgBqLtREYG8pmRlpPBMD1uf0ft69VRr1d9iO0TU/s1600/IMG_9499.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXYhPHXPbaSxOQa44SvUBDMPIoVOK0mpGVHixppxfzZQd9wUbP5ESUrcdRAn55Tca-jUtMVZJkDYUKzKKwbv-mvaCpPGA0RvMDNUGoGgBqLtREYG8pmRlpPBMD1uf0ft69VRr1d9iO0TU/s1600/IMG_9499.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Epo's at dusk</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3916202523759778531.post-62135405700062477732013-01-20T04:20:00.000-08:002013-01-25T04:35:23.160-08:00Nsawam<style>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzdd_shAWrUo7SBCmdEEmD34Iw4SXqPilV_qlvYUJsUb1bzIBj3o9ECysKcHsX29C224G6tE-PJsAgMfZMmSKmCPqvXtvETojMooGB6EusQpddQXvSAw1J_zhbxWO7Vo0obOjAcwX5uQ/s1600/IMG_9433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzdd_shAWrUo7SBCmdEEmD34Iw4SXqPilV_qlvYUJsUb1bzIBj3o9ECysKcHsX29C224G6tE-PJsAgMfZMmSKmCPqvXtvETojMooGB6EusQpddQXvSAw1J_zhbxWO7Vo0obOjAcwX5uQ/s1600/IMG_9433.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sunrise</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">You won’t find Nsawam in any
guidebooks – its main point of ‘interest’ is the large prison on its outskirts.
But it’s just 45 minutes northwest of Accra along the Kumasi road, and the surrounding
hills make it well worth heading out here. The lack of a tourist trail adds to
the adventure – you could be one of the first people to go walking on them.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Walking on them for
pleasure, at least. Farm tracks weave their way across the hills, connecting
village to field to village, through fields of papaya, maize and cassava. And
it was one of these tracks that we followed to create a new <a href="http://www.ghana-mountaineers.com/" target="_blank">Ghana Mountaineers</a>
route. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJmXKAQKe0mXp1oB-MkkTZXsfhEuVoGzOhB2OEy6Pb_0966aVjlmf7M08hGDKA6lXKCjH9G34v3Da_USEm1oW9GdSIgLeA5uB5Tf-7VwAij7ipBFgAG-6t8LS6caWV02WtfFfljPj_-s/s1600/IMG_9475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJmXKAQKe0mXp1oB-MkkTZXsfhEuVoGzOhB2OEy6Pb_0966aVjlmf7M08hGDKA6lXKCjH9G34v3Da_USEm1oW9GdSIgLeA5uB5Tf-7VwAij7ipBFgAG-6t8LS6caWV02WtfFfljPj_-s/s1600/IMG_9475.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">In the village</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Most tracks are steep in
Ghana – no messing about with zigzags here – and we lost our breath as quickly
as we gained height. The pause to regain it was a chance to admire the stunning
early-morning view. The cloud that drifts in from the sea at night is caught
between the closely packed hills, providing a scene rarely found on the more widely
spaced hills around <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2011/09/mount-krobo.html" target="_blank">Krobo</a>. The inversion, with the peaks bursting through the
white blanket, was a fitting reward for yet another early start.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Stephen had brought maps
of the area – one from Google, another from an obscure Russian website – but
once in among the trees on our first summit, they were of limited use. Still, we
were creating a new route so it didn’t really matter; we followed our noses in
a vague direction of somewhere over there. The air was cool, and the walking
easy, so why rush? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewlMkhyphenhyphenRk8Z7vwbBc-WZxCwWCTWbvfX9WgxfPjY_Kl2kBa-h0teUjOC6ZMrUCz1eCbcdMER2s3rRWkTPiLXTxIO3oVZqc6HrbsXvxfMG9CXDE9sowk_mCdU_dW_aIDTsoSoE8K9MYQIo/s1600/IMG_9449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhewlMkhyphenhyphenRk8Z7vwbBc-WZxCwWCTWbvfX9WgxfPjY_Kl2kBa-h0teUjOC6ZMrUCz1eCbcdMER2s3rRWkTPiLXTxIO3oVZqc6HrbsXvxfMG9CXDE9sowk_mCdU_dW_aIDTsoSoE8K9MYQIo/s1600/IMG_9449.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Breakfast</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">As walks in Ghana go, it was
uneventful – no <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/11/boti-falls.html" target="_blank">snakes</a>, no <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/09/ants.html" target="_blank">ants</a>, no secret <a href="http://twoyearsinaccra.blogspot.com/2012/12/cabbages-and-cannabis.html" target="_blank">cannabis farms</a> – leaving plenty of
time to enjoy the area. We passed through fruit farms, villagers preparing for
church, the occasional bird in the trees. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;">At the occasional
clearings, we saw further inviting hills to the south and further north, noting
down inviting ridges and potential climbs. And that’s the problem with
exploring new areas – you come back with a list of even more hills to tick off.
There’s plenty more to be discovered around Nsawam.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAReLtBU1AH4c1PFlmMnyMMuKZ7J22w6hyGH-t1kZjTVC5MawylGVtXKN9wpw-i6aAKYh96aoGtAwH5mUYqkkU8WSFV1X6r3x1IAryuksdJ0H_KEhxR9mqEv3CMx2g865JduXFicmBvs/s1600/IMG_9480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAReLtBU1AH4c1PFlmMnyMMuKZ7J22w6hyGH-t1kZjTVC5MawylGVtXKN9wpw-i6aAKYh96aoGtAwH5mUYqkkU8WSFV1X6r3x1IAryuksdJ0H_KEhxR9mqEv3CMx2g865JduXFicmBvs/s1600/IMG_9480.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06978448907086772116noreply@blogger.com0