Ghana

September 17th

Well it's over...we've been and seen and been conquered! Ghana is a state of mind, one experiences it rather than visits. It is a mixture of delights: grinning faces, friendly voices, hands grabbing yours to shake and welcome you, laughter, greetings being shouted across the crowded places "WELKOM! please buy my things, here I show you more, MADAM! don't walk away....stay!' then they run after you. For some of the women (more particularly I think) on board this was all too much and they were relieved to sail away last night. One person (Brenda 1) barely left the ship and when she went shopping with Amy found it all overwhelming...so stayed aboard after that. Sad I thought.

As I wrote in my last blog I had concerns about paying for our tour via Ghanaian ATM machines. This turned out to be a justified concern. I read on our Green sheet (which we are given in each port, containing valuable info. re emergency phone numbers, money, tips etc etc) and I saw that only 2 banks would take Mastercard: The Ghana Commercial Bank and the Stanbic. However, having withdrawn money all over the world with my McMaster Credit Union debit card I thought hopefully that I would be OK.

To start at the beginning there was no sign of our car or William when we descended the gangway at about 10. 30AM. The quay side was already swarming with activity: SAS tour buses, stalls with colourful fabrics. drums, carvings and clothes had quickly set up right opposite the ship. There were drivers, dockworkers, tour guides and general hubbub.

We wandered for a time waiting and then decided to take the shuttle bus to the gate of the port. George came with us carrying my back pack (which was nice) and we were driven (past what I would have considered the entrance) to a large gas station with taxis waiting and which had been designated as the gathering point. Still no sign of William (Africa bloody Africa I muttered to myself...our dirge from bygone days in West Africa!) At last a very nice, very large Ghanaian man who seemed to be the taxi coordinator let me use his cell phone and I contacted Mimi who contacted William. A few minutes later he arrived with our very nice, solid looking 4x4 a/c car. We bade George a fond farewell and climbed (it was one believe me!) aboard.

I guess we should go to a bank first William I said. No problem he replied. An hour later having tried umpteen ATMs I could not get a penny...what a horrible word 'Declined' is! Brenda was successful but not I! However we had still not found the two Mastercard-taking banks. Eventually I decided Tema was a traffic nightmare and we were wasting time under hot skies in very high humidity. So I suggested we wait until Kumasi or a quieter place at least. William agreed with some relief and we went on our way.

It takes quite a time to leave behind the heavy traffic, and at times terrifying driving that goes with it. We didn't leave the port environs really for a couple of hours.

The countryside opened up eventually and we picked up some speed. William turned out to be a good conversationalist and guide during the next few days and we had a great feeling of security being looked after by him. He stopped for us to get lunch and our breath about 1 o'clock. It was a bright blue rondavel open all round. There were dining tables and white and black clad waiters. We ordered an easy meal ..soup and bread. William had given us an hour to relax. Almost an hour later we were still waiting. I approached a table where there were three unoccupied waitresses, one clerk sitting writing out bills and a manageress.

Good afternoon I said pleasantly how are you? They looked concerned ...why was I there? I explained the situation including our imminent departure time and the (canned with uncooked veg!) soup appeared within minutes with huge apologies. I believe they had never received the order... or had been madly chopping and boiling carrots and potatoes to create the stroganoff soup it was supposed to be.

We left a little late and took an indirect road (not the official one) towards Kumasi. It was in very poor shape, filled with huge pot holes and numerous speed bumps. William seemed to anticipate each well in advance and I suspect he has driven it many. many times.

Lake Bosomtwe is at the end of a long turn off on the Kumasi road, well before the city. There were forested mountains of wierd shapes and sizes on both sides, a further deterioration in the road surface and we passed through small villages rather than towns. It was quite spectacular, a beautiful area of Ghana I had never imagined, living in Accra and only driving along the coast.

The skies were darkening and rain seemed ineveitable. We hoped we could beat it to Lake Bosomtwe. However it was not to be.

More later!