Day 1: Stockholm->Accra

On the way...

The preceding 48 hours were just a chaotic blur. I was going to Ghana and I had no visa. More importantly, I had no passport. A few months before I had decided to accompany my friend Måns to Ghana. He was going there to visit his girlfriend Matilda that together with her friend Julianna were doing their master’s thesis in civil engineering in Ghana. Although I have been frequently asked why on earth I wanted to go to Africa, my reason was quite simple: I had no excuse not to. It was an opportunity to experience something completely different and I had both the time and money to do it. In retrospect it was certainly the right thing to do – my only regret is that I stayed too short.

Two days before the trip however things were not looking good. We had prepared pretty well, getting all the necessary stuff ranging from the proper vaccinations to tropical clothing and survival gear. One thing that we had delayed was buying the tickets and getting the visa. The reason for that was that we were in the middle of working out a large deal at work and we weren’t quite sure when we’d be free to go. Two weeks before the intended departure we got our tickets and sent in the visa application and our passports to Denmark (Ghana has no embassy in Sweden). They said they needed five days but well into the last week they had not processed it yet. Three days before we were to leave they called from the embassy saying that my visa application could not be approved because I had printed my photo directly on the form rather than glued it to it. This was my first contact with African bureaucracy and I learned a lesson. I took a flight next morning to Copenhagen to apply in person for an express visa and to pick up mine and Måns’ passports.

Ghanaian embassy in Denmark

The visa department was a mess. They had no computers and no real filing system. Most of the staff’s time was spent yelling back at upset people whose passports they had misplaced or whose visas they have botched. I had up to that point never seen anything as badly organized in my life. I was very fortunate to get the visas and passports – it was sheer dumb luck that I got it. The advice that I can give on that subject is to send your application well in advance and start harassing them by phone long before your departure. There’s no guarantee it will work – as I witnessed in the embassy – but it might improve your odds of getting your documents in time. In theory you can apply for a visa on the airport in Accra, but in practice it can result in a refused entry and a very expensive trip back home.

Southern Ghana closeup

Our flight was 06:30 from Arlanda, Stockholm on Saturday 27/10 2007. We flew via Amsterdam (5h transit wait) to Accra. The flight from Amsterdam took 7 hours and all I can say about it is that after 5 hours it’s not fun anymore. We landed in Accra about 18:30 GMT when it was already pitch black outside.

On the plane we had been given two forms to fill out – immigration and customs. Unless you fill out the entire form (including local address of residence and local phone) they make a big issue out of it when passing through the immigration check point. Once you step out of the aircraft you are met by an intense wall of heat and moisture – an experience familiar to any traveler to tropical destinations. Within minutes one is sweating an insane amount.

The Accra arrivals terminal is a bunker like building. Something you would expect in the Soviet Union in the 60’s but far more run down, poorly lit and smelling intensely of gasoline (naphthalene to be precise, but I didn’t know it at the time). We were to be picked up by Matilda and Julianna’s land-lady, Zayid so we moved to the exit to reach the parking lot. I was in for a shock.

When we went through the exit we were met by a crowd of several hundred people standing in a semi-circle. When we stepped out, the crowd went silent in an instance – just hundreds of black faces staring at us. We felt like being on a strange stage and the heat, humidity and the poor light levels made it even more surreal. Of course these were just people waiting for their friends and relatives – there was nothing strange about it per se. The crowd went quiet and stared at us for one reason that was going to be a recurring one in Ghana – our skin color. It was a feature that we would be defined by from now on. We broke through the crowd and were met by an army of taxi drivers loudly offering their services (“Hey whites! Special price! Obroni, you come with me!”). Most were just yelling, others were trying to grab us by the arms and guide us to their taxi. It wasn’t threatening, mostly just annoying.

Accra map with landmarks

We were saved from the onslaught by Zayid and the girls that had come to pick us up in a large 4x4 jeep. Måns was going to stay with Matilda while I was going to stay in a hotel for two days before Zayid would have another room available (a huge house as it turned out). The girls had done some advance recon and booked me a room in a hotel near their house. Our first order of business in Accra was to claim the reservation. This being Africa, of course something had to go wrong. The manager claimed that the air condition wasn’t working so they had rebooked the room. He recommended a different hotel just around the block.

The room at the hotel

In Europe or any other western part of the world Holiday Hotel in Dzorwulu would have gotten a zero star rating or most likely been shut down for health code violations. It cost $60/night (average Ghanaian yearly income is $240). It was clean in a sense as there were no visible bugs running around and the heavily stained sheets had been washed. It was completely run down with everything from the bed to the lock to the broken faucet. There was no hot water (very common in Ghana) and the shower did not work. As I was tired from the trip, I took the room and left for Zayid’s house where she had prepared dinner for us. The meal was excellent – I skipped the groundnut soup (allergic to peanuts) but I thoroughly enjoyed the palaver sauce with rice. It tasted very good and was quite different from anything I had ever eaten.

After dinner we went out to the local bar and had a drink on their roof terrace. We were stared at when we entered and stared and pointed at when we were sitting down enjoying our drinks. Apparently we were the entertainment for tonight for the locals. The girls explained that it was going to be this way all the time.

Day 2: Accra

Accra street

Calling Accra a city in the European sense would be misleading. In what is administratively the city center you have dirt roads and goats grazing. It would also be wrong to call it a village as it has over 2 million inhabitants. And yes, you do have paved motor ways connecting the different districts as well as the occasional large building. There are some monuments and public sites – but they are like isolated islands. Outside of the independence square – the large central square in Accra, chickens and goats are roaming freely and you’ll find people living in and running their business from boxes of corrugated metal. There are huge differences in living quality between the districts. In the rich Airport Residential Area the mansions are unbelievably large. For the most part, these are not houses, but palaces. In the poorer districts on the other hand you can have 20+ people living in a small room without water or electricity. You can have one public toilet per several thousand people.

When I woke up the second day, it was in Dzorwulu (pronounced Djoulu), one of the richest districts in town. The houses here for the most part are very large, surrounded with walls and barbed wire and with guards patrolling them. It is the home of the upper middle class of Accra: doctors, lawyers, hotel owners and foreigners. I was going to meet the gang for breakfast in my hotel but as they were late, I went for a walk in the neighborhood. I did not get far before I was defeated by the heat and I retreated back to the air conditioned lobby of the hotel.

Dzorwulu district

After breakfast we took a taxi to the national museum. There are two main ways of transport in Accra: by tro-tro or by taxi. A tro-tro is a minibus or a van packed with people at least two times its capacity. They are notoriously unsafe, uncomfortable and I will not even attempt to describe how they smell. They are also dirt cheap and thus the primary type of transport for Ghanaians in Accra. Taxis are ten to twenty times more expensive, but still extremely cheap by western standards. Most cars in Ghana were made in the late eighties and they are without catcons or any type of filtering so as a rule you have a massive amount of black exhaust gases coming from the cars. The air pollution and smog are quite bad. The number of taxis is simply unbelievable – you can catch one anywhere at any time. And if you are white you get their full and immediate attention – you can’t walk down a street in Accra without the continuous background noise of car horns from taxis trying to get your attention. Traffic in Accra is completely chaotic. There are very few traffic lights and the standard principle of operation is the chicken race – whoever backs down first in a confrontation in a junction has to wait. Needless to say quite often no party backs down and it results in a crash. They are extremely common (I witnessed a number of them during my short stay) but seldom serious as the traffic congestion prevents any higher speeds. The road infrastructure is seriously under dimensioned for the huge number of cars on the streets.

Accra bus/tro-tro (long-distance version)

Our trip to the national museum was however an exception as it was Sunday when most Ghanaians are in church or at home. There was plenty of traffic, but nothing compared to what we would experience on a regular week day.

The national museum was not very interesting but there were large fans in the building that provided welcome cooling. The museum had a collection of archeological artifacts but they were rather unimpressive. Imagine seeing an obviously neolithic item only to find out that it was made in the 19th century. If you are looking for impressive historical achievements and ancient civilization, Africa is the wrong place to look. Before the European colonization the most advanced technology was on an iron age level. There was also an exhibit on slavery but I shall cover that topic later.

After the national museum we decided to go to the famed Makola market. It is a huge market in Accra covering several city blocks and where the Ghanaians do their shopping. On Sunday however the market was closed. There were some locals around obviously finding our presence there amusing. We abandoned Makola for now and decided to go to Oxford Street – the Accra equivalent of the London shopping street with the same name (although the comparison would be very absurd). We went for lunch at Frankie’s - a restaurant with bad western imitation food and Ghanaian quality of service (terrible). We would return to this spot a number of times for one reason: it’s an oasis for westerners. Once you’ve fed up with the heat, the crowds and the constant attention you are getting on the street a break at Frankie’s is pure heaven. It is nicely air conditioned and has a price level that guarantees that only westerners and über-rich Ghanaians can afford it. Accra can be an incredibly intense experience, especially at first, so places like Frankie’s are really needed for a breather from time to time.

After Frankie’s we decided to go to the nearest bus station to get tickets for Cape Cost for the next day. Busses are the main transportation for longer distances in Ghana. They come in three categories – minibuses, larger state owned buses and STC which are larger and (in theory) air conditioned. Most Ghanaians use the minibuses as they are by far the cheapest alternative. Like tro-tros they are notoriously unsafe, over packed and unhygienic. We provided some entertainment for the crowd at the bus station by having the girls buying the tickets while Måns and I stood by and watched. The people in the bus station were laughing, pointing at us and at a advertisement poster saying “Are you a real man?”. Apparently they found it hilarious that Matilda and Julianna were in charge and handling the business.

Me, Matilda and Julianna at Nkrumah Circle

Our next stop was independence square where there was to be a concert starring Luciano, a reggae star that Måns and Matilda wanted to see. The concert was to start 16:00. The guards at the gates told us that the concert would start about 17:30. In reality it started after 22:00. Ghana time is GMT – Ghana Maybe Time. Schedules and time tables are just polite suggestions – vague recommendations that are not really expected to be kept. Westerners that move to Ghana usually have a nervous breakdown over this in the beginning before they accept the African concept of time. It is well illustrated by the South African expression “just now” meaning “soon”, “some time” or even “never”.

Accra Beach

Instead of going in we took a walk in the neighborhood and found an amazing restaurant/bar at a beach resort near the square, the Riviera Beach Club. The view was fantastic and a refreshing breeze cooled us down. We would be returning to this place several times. After spending a few hours there and walking on the beach (tropical paradise style but unfortunately very dirty with garbage everywhere) we decided to go for a bite to a local chop bar.

Lizard not impressed by Piña colada at the Riviera Club.

The chop bar is the standard Ghanaian restaurant. Basically you get a bowl with a soup base and then all sort of things are thrown into it. Traditional ingredients include banku (fermented corn and cassava dough), fufu (cassava and plantain or yam) as well as rice. You eat with your hands.

Måns enjoying a goat soup Ghanaian style

The chop bar we visited was “Asanka Local” that has a reputation for being the best in Accra. As it was Sunday evening the chop bar was practically empty. Måns was brave and tried a proper dish, with a goat soup base and he ate with his hands. The girls and I chose a fish with rice. For me it was love at first taste. No, not the fish and not the rice but the pepper sauce that came with it. It is one of the best things I’ve ever tasted and during the remainder of the stay in Ghana I opted for rice with pepper sauce whenever I had the chance. The peppers in Ghana are better than any that I have ever tasted. The fresh pepper sauce is relatively simple – it contains red peppers, tomato, onions, garlic and oil. The result is brilliant.

After the food we took a taxi back to independence square with the intent of going to the concert (it hadn’t actually started yet). It was there that we met the barbarians at the gates: Pick-pockets and lots of them. Just as we stepped out of the taxi somebody was trying to get into Måns’ back pocket. At the entrance a group managed to box me in and separate me from the others. I felt numerous hands grabbing my pockets while trying to restrict my movement. I had to use physical force to push them away and break through to rejoin the others. This was however the only situation of this kind that I experienced in Ghana. I moved outside at night in Accra, Cape Coast and Elmina without ever feeling threatened in any way. In Accra near Makola market a pick-pocket made an attempt at my back pocket, but this was in broad daylight and the pretty lame attempt failed.

Independence Square by night

The concert itself is probably the only thing I regret going to in Ghana. Luciano never showed up and we were tortured by a talentless hack called John Legend. We returned home after midnight.

Day 3: Cape Coast

Recycling, Ghana style

One thing commonly associated with tourism is photography. Yes, you want to take holiday pictures that you can then force upon unsuspecting friends and relatives. In Ghana this is a big problem as people there positively hate to be photographed. Although it didn’t happen to us, it is not unheard of tourists getting their cameras smashed by upset people who resented having their picture taken without permission. As a rule you need to ask permission if you want to take a picture and as a rule you won’t get it. I’ve heard a number of explanations for this ranging from a simple “my image is my property” to the argument that we will just use the pictures to show how backwards and primitive Africa is. Either way overtly snapping everything interesting is not an option. Armed with a high-end DSLR camera, an ultra-compact camera and a digital video camera, I was getting frustrated. The compact camera was great as it allowed us to relatively covertly take some pictures now and then, but it was far from enough.

City Goat

That’s one of the reasons why I was looking forward to the bus ride to Cape Coast. It would allow me to take all the pictures I wanted and to shoot some video from the comfort and safety of the bus. And indeed almost half of my pictures taken in Ghana were done so during the three hour ride from Accra to Cape Coast. We were lucky – the bus was in good shape and only half an hour late (the return bus was cancelled). It was most interesting to see the outskirts of Accra and the country side. If Accra was poor it was nothing compared to the other parts where people still live in mud huts. On the side of the road you see a stand selling pineapples. 50 meters from it you see a stand selling pineapples. Another 50 meters from it you see a stand selling..you guessed it.. pineapples. There are hundreds of stands along the motorway just selling pineapples and on occasion some other fruit.

Pineapples..

Mostly they are women and often they carry small children on their backs, inhaling the exhausts from the cars. Over 25% of Ghanaian children never reach the age of 5 which is really not surprising given the conditions that they grow up in. Malaria is a big killer but I’m guessing that the air and water pollution are doing their part.

Street vendors are not only on the motor way but basically everywhere. You can get food and drink almost anywhere. In Accra you can also get almost anything you can imagine from the salespeople coming up to your car offering their merchandize. Their entrepreneurial spirit seems to end there however. There are no attempts at consolidating the fruit stands or organizing sales. In fact almost every single larger business in Ghana is run by foreigners. The hotels are run by Lebanese, the banks by Nigerians and all the real engineering projects by Europeans.

Boy selling oranges

Cape Coast is as the name suggests a coastal town. In its center is the big British slave fort that is its primary tourist attraction. Apart from the fort it is exactly as you would imagine an African village - small run down houses, no or little street lightning and lots and lots of people, especially children. Although it was obviously poorer than Accra, the atmosphere was much nicer and friendlier.

Roadside village.

We stayed at the “Mighty Victory Hotel” which was pretty nice by Ghanaian standards. It was certainly better than the hotel in Accra that I stayed in – and it was half the price ($30 for a room with AC). Yes, it was not up to western standards and had stained sheets and moldy walls etc, but in context it was pretty good.

In the afternoon we ate a nice meal at a beach restaurant that had some great food and unbelievable incompetent staff.

Completed dinner

Later in the evening explored the town. It was pitch black and no street lights. There were people, animals and music everywhere. Had it not been for the excessive car traffic it would have been excellent. It was still very nice and although we as usual got very much attention, it was a very relaxed atmosphere. We got lost a few times but found our way in the end. We all agreed that Cape Coast was a much nicer place than Accra.

Women near the Cape Coast castle

We got lost a few times but found our way in the end. We all agreed that Cape Coast was a much nicer place than Accra.

Cape
Coast beach

Day 4: Kakum, Monkey Forest Sanctuary and Elmina

Turtles at the Monkey Forest Sanctuary

One of the notions that I had about going to Africa was that I was going to go into the jungle. We had planned to go into one of the national parks and to take a serious tour to see the wild life. So I got a complete set of tropical gear – a full survival kit. My equipment ranged from water purifiers and GPS devices to specialized clothing and a first aid kit that could supply a platoon. I wasn’t just ready for a walk in the jungle – I had the gear for prolonged jungle warfare. As it turned out, it was completely silly and none of my gear was needed at all. I could have handled my full jungle adventures wearing only a pair of boxer shorts.

We had early on decided to visit Kakum, the national park near Cape Coast. Unlike the big (and practically unreachable) Mole park in the north that has grassy plains and big animals, Kakum is a real tropical jungle. It is impenetrable with dense vegetation and with much fewer large animals. The main attraction of Kakum is their canopy tour where you through a series of hanging ‘bridges’ (in the words’ most general meaning) can look at the tree tops from above. It was built by a group of Canadians and the ‘bridges’ consist of connected planks with a railing made of rope. They are not very stable and move around when you walk on them and when several people walk on them you get some very strange and unpredictable oscillations. The width of the planks is just enough so that you can put down your feet.

The canopy tour at Kakum

It is possible that there was something interesting to see in the canopies but apart from the impressive heights of the trees I did not notice too much. Normally I am not afraid of heights but this time I was not comfortable. All my energy and my focus went on just crossing the bridge that I was on and reaching the next platform.

It's pretty high up...

There was a guy in our guided group who was terrified of heights, but he soldiered on and managed to cross the bridges without causing any delays to the rest of us. The canopy tour included a walk up a hill and down the same way which was interesting as we got to see some interesting insects.

After the canopy tour we had the choice of going for a jungle walk but we opted to visit the Monkey Forest Resort animal sanctuary nearby. And there endeth my jungle adventures.

About 3 km from Kakum a Dutch couple started an animal sanctuary with monkeys being the main attraction. Among the animals that can be found are crocodiles, civic cats, turtles and of course monkeys.

Civic cat

We got a very interesting guided tour of the whole place before we got up close and personal with the monkeys. Especially fun was a small mona monkey called Max, who we got to feed and play around with. There were other interesting monkeys - among them a couple spot nosed monkeys
that tried to steal stuff from my pockets.

Max the mona monkey with the owner of the sanctuary

The sanctuary was probably the single best place that I visited in Ghana during my stay. And it was not because of the animals or the interesting tour given by the owner. This place embodied what was generally lacking in Ghana: a desire to create and improve. The owners built the place from scratch, starting with nearly nothing. They are now getting wind turbines to provide independent electricity to the place. They are also planning to build a small hotel, powered entirely by wind power and solar cells.
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Spot nosed monkey and kleptomaniac

A bar on the top of the hill is planned where visitors will be enjoying a spectacular view of the Kakum park and the surroundings. And these people built it all from scratch driven by a desire to create and to improve. Sadly every such project that you see in Ghana is run by westerners. And it’s not that the locals don’t have the means to do it, there just seems to be a complete lack of interest. Until they develop their entrepreneurship a step above selling pineapples on the street, Ghana is going nowhere. Poverty is an effect and not a cause.

Cocoa pod

The owner had been in Ghana for four years now and while he had gotten used to the Ghana Maybe Time he confessed to longing for western food, specifically sauerkraut and Big Macs. In the restaurant they were going to build he promised there would be no banku and no fufu.
In the afternoon we returned to Cape Coast and after lunch we set of to Elmina to see Ghana’s largest slave fort.

Elmina panorama seen from the fort

The slave trade is a dark and twisted story which is nearly as shameful and embarrassing to all involved. When the Europeans came to Africa, they plugged in to an existing trade and as with everything else made an industry out of it. Africa has always been characterized by tribalism and traditionally in tribal warfare the loser is enslaved by the winner. The European slave traders were at the end of the supply chain. Africans sold other Africans to the Europeans in exchange for tobacco and other goods. The European presence was limited to a number of forts across the coast, which were trading points and distribution centrals for the slave trade. The locals in Cape Coast and Elmina were not taken as slaves – on the contrary, they were knee deep in the sales and made huge profits as middle men. The only threat to a European nation’s slave trade was if another European nation wanted to muscle in on its territory. When the slave trade ended it was not because popular resentment from the Africans but because of a change in European profit margins.

The Elmina fort was founded by the Portuguese in the 15th century as a center for gold trade. It means literally “the mine”. When slave trade became more profitable as Europe colonialized the world, the Portuguese converted Elmina into a slave fort. After a while the Dutch muscled in on the trade and kicked out the Portuguese.

The Elmina fort

The British tried to take Elmina a couple of times but failed. After the slave trade had been abolished, the Dutch sold Elmina to the British.

The fortress itself is impressive – it gives the place an almost Caribbean look. We took a guided tour and were shown the various parts of the fort, including the slave holding cells. The height of irony was a prominent plaque on the main courtyard dedicated to a Dutch governor of the fort that died of malaria while in Elmina. During the slave trade 12 million people came to Elmina as slaves. Four million survived, eight perished.

Elmina village

After the tour we watched a group of performers practice drum playing and dancing next to the fort. Elmina is a traditional African fishing village and walking around it was an interesting experience. In the evening we returned to Cape Coast.

Drumming performance

Day 5: Cape Coast and Accra

Beach near Cape Coast

Before you go to Ghana you need a serious batch of vaccinations ranging from yellow fever and hepatitis to polio and typhoid fever. One of the more important ones is the Dukoral oral vaccine that protects you against cholera and traveler’s diarrhea. Essentially it allows you to eat the local food without getting sick immediately. It gives only an 85% protection so you are still at a considerable risk. You have to watch what you eat and of course you can only drink purified bottled water.

We never figured out what Måns had eaten, but in the morning he was not in a good shape. He was pale and not feeling well at all, having toiled through a rough night. Matilda wasn’t feeling all that well either but Måns was in worse shape. Still, we all managed to take a walk down to the Cape Coast castle for the guided tour.

Cape Coast castle

The castle was built in 1653 by the Swedish and was called Karlsborg and part of the Swedish Gold Coast colony. It was seized by Denmark in 1663. The Swedish Gold Coast became the Danish Gold Coast. Present day, the heat was insufferable and we were very happy to return to the hotel. The tour of the castle was interesting, but essentially the same as in Elmina.

The cannons of Cape Coast

We decided that it was time to head back to Accra so we took a taxi to the bus station. There it turned out that the 14:00 bus was cancelled for unknown reasons and that the next bus would leave in two or three hours. Maybe. Well, that’s Africa. Instead of waiting and taking a chance we called the taxi driver who had taken us to Kakum the day before. We were very pleased with his driving which had been very calm – the man even used his seat belt, so we had gotten his number. It was a good choice as he managed to get us through several police check points without us having to pay any bribes.

In Accra Zayid had a key ready for me. Her second house was empty and I could move in. The place that was going to be my base of operations for the next few days was huge. Two days before a Lebanese family that had been living there for several years had moved out. I had the whole place for myself and it was clean and nicely air-conditioned. It had a large front veranda and came with two uniformed guards (one day guard and one night). At one point the night guard just left his post leaving the gates to the street wide open – but that’s a different story.

Zayid had prepared a meal for us with traditional Ghanaian food that included a spicy chicken soup and rice. It was quite nice. The girls had asked her before how much the rent would be for me and she had replied that it would be the same as for them - $15/night. Since I got a whole house and the fact that it was air conditioned I asked Zayid if $100 would be ok for the five nights. She said yes but with a slight hesitation. I thought that I had offered too little but it turns out it was the other way around. Later Zayid told Matilda that she felt bad because I had paid too much. In the really crappy hotel I had stayed the first two nights I had paid $60/night and the high-end European quality hotels were priced $200-300/night. And Zaiyd is very affluent by Ghanaian standards – she owns two large houses in one of the best districts of Accra and drives a modern 4x4 car. When I talked to her later she told me that the huge palaces (20+ rooms) in the Airport Residential Area would rent for as “much” as $1000-$3000/month. That’s including full staff and cars.

As both Måns and Matilda weren’t feeling very well and we all felt taking it easy a while would be nice, we didn’t go out that evening. Instead I was on my veranda enjoying a traditional colonial style evening. I had purchased some Montecristo cigars in Amsterdam which I now enjoyed laid back in a comfortable armchair. In the evening when the temperature drops (albeit slightly) and when you sit down, it can be quite comfortable. I enjoyed my cigar with fresh mango juice while listening to an audio book. Then I spilled the mango juice all over my laptop’s keyboard, but that’s a different story.

The view from my veranda in Dzorwulu

Day 6: Slow day in Accra

Using your head in business..

Being a white person in Ghana is a very odd experience. Not because the people around you are different but because how they see you and treat you. One would think that Africa would be the last place on earth where whites would get preferential treatment. Not so. Just because of your skin color you are automatically considered a member of the top level of society. On the streets you are treated like a rock star – people stare, point and come up to you just to shake your hand. Everywhere you hear people and especially children yelling “Obroni”, “Obroni”, meaning “white person”. The really bizarre thing is that very small children aged 2-3 years are yelling that as well. Children run up to you and want to touch you. They are overfilled with excitement if you wave to them or answer one of their “How are you?” questions. When you enter a place or just walk down the street all heads turn to stare at you. Incidentally this is one factor that makes Ghana so safe for western tourists – as long as there are people around, everybody will be watching you. Should somebody try to rob you it would not go unnoticed by the crowds and you’d have plenty of people coming to your aid.


Of course, to the street vendors a white person equals a walking bag of money. They swoop down on you as soon as they spot you. “roni, special price!” The “special price” is the usual price multiplied by a factor of ten. With a Ghanaian average yearly income (and the median is lower) being $230, they are quite right in a way. So when they spot a white person taxi drivers and street vendors (and there are lots of them everywhere) all go for it. At first you get overwhelmed by it – mostly because your first instinct is not to be rude. Soon however you realize that you can’t possibly shake hands with 20 people at every street corner and that if you give them an introduction as they request, you would spend all day only doing that. Although some will physically grab you and try to drag you to them, most will not. And the ones that do pull your arm do not do so forcefully so you can easily pull away. This kind of attention is especially common in places of potential tourist interest. In areas where only Ghanaians move you still get a lot of attention but it is much less hands on. Ultimately you learn to walk by, not paying attention to them individually, shaking your head and weaving your hand saying “No, not now” or “Maybe later”. Ironically the massive waves of assault from the vendors make it almost impossible to do any shopping. If you stop for a second to look at an item the salesman will insist on trying to sell you his entire shop to you and all the other salespersons in the vicinity will give you that special attention that you really don’t want.

To be fair all Ghanaians that you meet on the street are not like that. Most will just limit their interest to just staring at you. In the busiest streets of Accra a lot of people may even just go about their business without taking notice. There is however always enough of those that just have to talk to you that make any excursion into the streets of the city a demanding and exhausting experience. And while you learn to live with it, on occasion you just want a bit of peace and quiet and some anonymity.

In Ghana, if you have the money, it is no problem. In fact you could be living there hardly noticing that you are in Africa. There are expensive hotels and restaurants that only cater to westerners and the Ghanaian elite. The Golden Tulip hotel in Accra is exactly such a place. A single night at the hotel costs more than the average yearly Ghanaian salary. Although technically only a four star hotel, it is luxury beyond belief by African standards.

You can always live in a tree...

When I woke up on Thursday morning I found out that Matilda wasn’t feeling very well and that the others would not be interested in breakfast anytime soon. So I decided to try out the Golden Tulip on my own. The breakfast buffet was excellent with a chef on standby to take individual special orders. The hotel is of western quality – and not just a bad approximation. The guests eating breakfast were almost exclusively westerners with one or two sharply dressed Ghanaians present. It had a light African theme – just enough to give it a comfortably exotic look but without any risk of being intimidating. If you lived here you can be in Africa without really being in Africa. Early on, I did consider staying at the Golden Tulip – but I’m very glad I did not.

By the time I got back home to Dzorwulu, Matilda was feeling really bad. All the symptoms of malaria were there so she and Måns left for an emergency clinic specializing in the disease. After having an interesting experience with the byzantine medical system of Ghana they were relieved that the malaria tests were negative. It wasn’t malaria but some form of infection - she got broad spectrum antibiotics to nuke it.

Julianna and I met up with them for lunch at a place called Galitos – which is part of a Portuguese chain of restaurants and that specializes in various forms of chicken. The food was very nice and the restaurant very clean. The customers were mostly more affluent Ghanaians and a few non-western foreigners. The price levels were somewhere between the street prices and the western hotel prices and the apparent target group were the upper middle class of Accra. We also visited a supermarket nearby that had prices ranging from reasonable (by western standard) to insane. A pack of cornflakes cost two or three times as much as it would at home. It was quite obvious that only the super-rich shopped there.

More head acrobatics

In the evening b that we had found referenced in a guide book. While you may think that African jazz sounds interesting, this wasn’t it. It was live music, but it was bland lounge jazz that was played. The only other customers were a Dutch group that was already a bit over-refreshed when we got there. Still, the drinks were not half bad and the singer had an amusing voice. Afterwards we decided to try out a second jazz club we had heard of. We took a taxi and guided the driver to the address we were given. The club was closed and we had ended up in a very poor district of Accra. There were people sleeping on the ground all over the place which was excessively run down. We did not feel it was advisable to hang around there for long so the taxi drove us to Dzorwulu.

As we were walking the final distance home, I fell into an open gutter. Accra's sewage system consists of canals by the road sides. They are supposed to be covered, but often they are not. It was into one of these that I fell. I simply didn't see it and fell right into it. Fortunately it was empty at the time and I just scraped my knees and arms as well as provided some entertainment for the others.

I have studied the most disgusting parts of Accra up close. Literally.

Day 7: Tourism & Africa Overload

"Nothing but the truth furniture"

Kwame Nkrumah was the first president of independent Ghana and his statues and portraits are still commonly visible around the country. He was elected to prime minister in 1957 when the Gold Coast colony became the independent country of Ghana and became the country’s first president in 1960. He was ousted in a military coup d’état in 1966.

Kwame Nkrumah

During his presidency he laid the foundation of modern Ghana. He was also the leader of the pan-African movement that advocated an African political union. One of his major contributions was getting the Akosombo dam at the Volta River built. To build it he took out massive loans transforming Ghana from one of the richest African countries to one of the most indebted ones. In 1964 he declared Ghana a one-party state with him as president for life. Ghana was excessively corrupt as well – by paying off government officials you could sell anything to the country. The Russians actually managed to sell snow plows to the sub-Saharan country. In 1966 when he was on a state visit to Vietnam, his government was overthrown in a coup led by the military. More unrest followed and Ghana managed with the feat of having six different governments and seven successful coups. The last coup was in 1981, after which the country stabilized. It had its first democratic elections in 1992.

Nkrumah ended up as co-president of Guinea and never returned to Ghana. He died in 1972 but despite his failures in office is considered a great hero by most Ghanaians.

Kwame Nkrumah statue version

Today we were going to visit Nkrumah’s memorial park in Accra. Ghana in general and specifically Accra lacks any major “must see” attractions so you take what you can get. The memorial park was nicely kept – the cleanest and best maintained part of Accra we saw. A large number of school children were there on excursion. As soon as they saw us the “Obroni-ing” started, but their teacher hushed them very fast and surprisingly we were left alone. The memorial park also housed an air-conditioned but thoroughly uninteresting museum of Nkrumah’s life. My comrades who don’t have air condition at their place took a suspiciously long time to study various trivialities in detail. Well, I can’t blame them – it was excessively hot outside.

Nkrumah memorial park

After the memorial park we took a walk near the Makola market (although never entering the market itself). The girls were looking to buy some African fabric. At some point we found a very narrow passage completely filled with various stands, salespeople and their customers. The others seem to enjoy it. I on the other hand was not. I was being pushed around by rude women whose passage I was apparently hindering. I was pushed, pulled, prodded and yelled at. I exited to the street and lit a cigarette in the inhuman heat. Soon some old bat was yelling at me for smoking. Ghanaians don’t smoke in general and older generations consider it to be an immoral habit. When I could no longer stand the heat on the street, I entered the passage again to try and find the others. After another session of manhandling by the people there, I was ready to punch somebody in the face. I was thoroughly fed up with Africa and was on the verge of exploding.

Once I found the others (it took a while) they must have read my facial expression correctly because they agreed to get the hell out of there. They on the other hand had a pleasant experience – they had not been pushed around but had just stood in one or two stands looking at cloth. We went to Frankie’s where I got the breathing space I needed. In its air conditioned space I cooled down in more than one way.

After lunch at Galitos we set our aims for the Art Market. It was a place specifically aimed at tourists selling all sorts of African trinkets – from woodwork to fabrics. The catch is that there are really no tourists in Accra to speak of and the market is huge. The salespeople are therefore very aggressive – even for Ghanaian standards. Having been cooled down and fed, I was however in a good mood and ready to take them on. I led the group decisively through the long entry passage and it was going quite well until I tripped and was cornered by a number of salespeople. It wasn’t too bad though, because it was at a place where they sold shirts – which was something I was looking for. I bought two and although I negotiated down the price to a third of the original, I was still most likely ripped off. I didn’t mind though – they were nice shirts. Måns bought a shirt as well.
We wandered the Art Market for quite a while. Although the salespeople were very motivated, unlike the people in the passage way earlier, they were generally polite. Most of the market consisted of people selling various woodworks – it was interesting, but nothing that I really liked. Matilda bought a small wooden chair that had a traditional Ghanaian symbol on it. The meaning of the symbol was “Except God” (common expression which we never figured out), but despite that both Matilda and Måns liked the design of the chair.

Ghanaians are very religious people. Most of the country is fundamentalist Christian with some Muslims in the north. The southern states in the US are no match for Ghana in terms of excessive religious influences. Radio and TV shows all have a significant religious undertone. Taxis and buses are decorated with bible quotations. The perhaps most amusing thing for a visitor are the names of businesses like “Hands of God Auto Mechanic” or “Innocent Blood Restaurant”. One of the more amusing scenes we witnessed was a fight (not serious) between two taxi drivers that who had collided in an intersection. One had “Jesus’ Lamb” written on his taxi and the other had “Love thy neighbor”.

Typical Ghanaian sign.

After the Art Market we took a well-deserved break at our usual beach hangout at the Riviera Club. In the evening we took a long walk to the Shangri-La hotel and had pizzas. The walk was interesting for two reasons. First we passed by the president’s house which was guarded by a tank and second we had to cross the motorway. In Ghanaian urban planning (on the rare occasions that it exists), pedestrians are not considered. So to cross the main motorway you basically try to find a gap in the massive traffic and then run and hope for the best. Incidentally, the pizzas were the first meals that we all got approximately at the same time (+-15 minutes) since we got to Ghana.

Day 8: Akosombo

Volta lake panorama

We got up pretty late that day. We had decided to go to the bus station and try to get a bus to Akosombo to visit the Volta dam. At the station we found out that due to cancellations and delays, the first bus would go perhaps around three in the afternoon. This was too late for us so we went to Frankie’s for a cup of coffee and to discuss our plans. We decided to take a taxi and were very fortunate to find a suitable one outside the door. It was a “Gold Taxi” – a taxi company that has actually decent cars. It was a Fiat something that you would not have looked twice at in any western city. Here however it was remarkable. The taxi driver was nice enough and did not overcharge us. He would drive us to Akosombo and back and we would stay there for 3-4 hours.


The Akosombo dam is probably the most beautiful part of Ghana that I saw. The nature around it is just amazing – reminiscent of the great Italian lakes (like Lake Como).

View from on top of the dam

The dam itself is impressive, not perhaps as much in its looks but what it stands for and what it does. It was built in just three years (1963-1966) by an Italian engineer and has been the main provider of electricity to the whole of Ghana and a number of other neighboring countries since then.

The Akosombo Dam

After a very brief tour by a local engineer we had a nice meal at the Volta hotel which is located above the dam.

Outlet pipes. Each pipe is more than 100m long.

Our final mission for the day was to find some palm wine. It is a traditional Ghanaian drink made from palm sap. It has to be fresh and isn’t available in Accra. Our taxi driver managed to get a lead to where we might find it and we set off in the Volta rural areas. This was most interesting as we had not been in the real country side before. Here people lived in mud huts, the old school African style. Once we got to the target village, there was a funeral there and they had used up all the palm wine. Nevertheless it was a very interesting experience.

Yours truly, very sweaty at the Volta Hotel