Snow!

I left for Africa in January this year so it has been almost an entire year since I last saw snow. Guess what? It snowed today! Whoooo... Marvelous marvelous marvelous. I'll leave you with some pictures:

I'll be home for Christmas in two weeks, can't wait to see everyone!

Vegan Turkey Results

Ingredients:

3 cans of chick peas
1 package of tofu
Graham Flour
Vegetable Bouillon (check ingredients)
Salt
Olive Oil

Use a food processor to make a homogenous paste out of the chick peas and tofu. Place in a mixing bowl and add the oil and flour until it has a sticky dough consistency. Add bouillon and salt to taste.
 

Here are some pictures of the cooked and served vegan turkey:

A Walk Along the Kelvin

Today seemed like a good day to take a stroll along the Kelvin River and snap some pictures of the fall colors. Honestly, it wasn't the best of conditions for photography (mid-day, overcast) but it was nice and warm, a balmy 289 degrees Kelvin. I started my walk behind the Glasgow Botanic Garden and walked down the river to Kelvingrove Park which happens to be a nice arc never being more than about half a mile from my flat.

Behind the Botanics

I think I may have missed the peak of fall colors by a week or so and I'm not even sure in which direction. It's hard to tell if they're coming or going since some of the trees are bare and others are still green. Nevertheless, I was satisfied with the scenery today. I caught a particularly nice orange tree just north of Great Western Road.

It started to rain lightly about half way through my walk but soon it let up. All in all, it was quite dry this morning by Glasgow standards.

I tried my best to keep from taking pictures of the University of Glasgow or the Kelvingrove Museum since they're such cool buildings that they could have their own dedicated photo albums but they kept popping up the the background anyway.

Eventually I made it to this guy:

Lord Kelvin! ... Yeah, you knew something was up when I quoted the temperature in degrees K earlier. Lord Kelvin, the formulator of the 1st and 2nd Laws of Thermodynamics, was named Baron Kelvin after the river that ran past his university. So by extension, Degrees Kelvin is named after the River Kelvin. On that bombshell, we'll end today's blog.

See the full photo album on my Picasa  page here or click on the link at the top of the page. I'm now uploading at 1024 pixels wide since my internet connection is faster here than Ghana... Yay!

Whoa... Fail

So I haven't written anything in my Blog for... well lets just go with for quite a while. I think I owe everyone at home some attention...

Today I went climbing at the Glasgow Climbing Centre. It's been a while since I went climbing (last summer in Louisville) but I hadn't lost any of my non-skill. My fingers were still extremely sore before I was necessarily tired of climbing so my ability drastically deteriorated near the end of the day but other than that it was a great time. The climbing center itself was inside of an old converted church so It definitely had a unique feel. There were 40 foot walls on every side and some cool overhangs and a cave type thing in the corner which was made to seem like a natural rock face rather than by adding holds to a flat wall. In the basement there was a bouldering area which was particularly cool since it seemed almost like a secret room hidden under the main rock gym. I advise you to check it out for yourself via the virtual tour (move your mouse around to pan):  http://www.pikodesign.com/tour/gcc/

Since I've been mostly out of contact (no facebook, poor blogging regularity) if you'd like to ask any questions via the comment section or email I'll be happy to answer them in a future post.

Happy Halloween everyone!

Split Pea Soup Flavoured Museums

The Riverside Museum (Museum of Transport), the newest museum in Glasgow opened about a month ago and I have to say it's walls are very minty.

Aggh! don't put cars on shelves! That's where the books go. I have no idea what they were thinking when they did this. It's kinda unnerving to walk under 3 stories of cars but more importantly, from the ground you can't really see them at all.

That being said, the building does look pretty cool from some angles...

Plus a permanent tall ship outside in the River Clyde doesn't hurt either.

I just realized that these are the first pictures of Glasgow I've put online. On one hand, this is sad because the city is not done justice by this one very bold (yet slightly tragic) building, on the other hand, some things aren't meant to be seen merely on a computer screen and I don't want to diminish the appeal of travel since sometimes vast amounts of pictures spoil the adventure of travel (Imagine seeing the Taj Mahal or Great Pyramids for the first time in person having only heard descriptions but having never seen a picture.. it would be unimaginably amazing!) So that's kinda been my philosophy for the last few weeks; if something is amazing I stop myself from taking a picture (yeah.. I know you kind of end up on the loosing end of this, Sorry). Spoilers. Hope you enjoyed one of the locations in Glasgow that can be done justice by pictures.

The Belly of the Beast-ly Clouds

A slight bit of mid day fog on the way up to St. Andrews. I imagine there would have been a good view from this bridge but I don't mind substituting for eeriness and mystery, it is October after all.

Shepherds Pie Is Not the Subject

I saw a church with tables outside and a sign for a café but strangely I didn't investigate further. My failure to do so is the most disappointing thing so far. Was the church fitted into a very gothic restaurant? I shall never know... that is, until I walk the two blocks from my flat to visit again.

A very soft clickedy-clack clickedy-clack clickedy-sqeeeel is what I hear every few minutes since the subway line apparently runs directly beneath this house.

Pedestrian only streets are fantastic and should replace all roads worldwide. Says the man who doesn't own a car.

McColl's is a chain of small shops... so close.

Here's a (short) poem:

Sun broke through grey clouds today
Only shone ten minutes
best you can hope for they say
Even Glasgow has limits

Post 01: Return of The Blog

Intermission

If you've read this far then you should know that you're about to venture into my old posts about Africa... This is fine but you might find it to be confusing and unrelated to the Scotland era of blog posts sort of like bogged down jellyfish and some lampshade stew.

Wait Small, I’m Coming!

… translates from Ghanaian English to: “Hold on a second, I’ll be right there.” I still laugh every time someone says that but I won’t be hearing it much longer, my flight leaves in a few hours. Thanks so much for tuning in and reading about my life for the last 5 months, I look forward to seeing everyone stateside!

-Alan

Scraps of Forgotten Adventures

It’s come to this at last. It’s been a long semester of adventures and travels but I’m afraid it’s all winding down. All that’s left is to tell you about the things I’ve forgotten to tell in other blogs. Like the time I spent the night on a stilt village built over the water…

Nzulezu:

All the way at the bottom left corner of Ghana, near Cote D’Ivoire there is a  village of people who fled a civil war in Mali 600 years ago and followed a snail across desert and savannah, rainforest and swamp until they found their new home of Nzulezu, on top of a lake in a maze of swampland. They felt as though they would be safe hidden in the swamps and inaccessible by anything other than dug out canoe. They were right. It took about an hour and a half of paddling through the swamp to get to the village but it was certainly worth the work.

A whole town built on the water nearly unchanged for centuries; it was certainly a unique experience. We didn’t plan on staying long but the weather had other plans. Just as we were about to go back, a late afternoon tropical rainstorm hit and we were stranded in the village. I hadn’t planned on spending the night but I suppose I’m glad I stayed. Now I can say that I slept in a house that swayed back and forth on it’s support columns (tree branches) with every step, and I slept in a bed while listening to the fish splash about under the floor.

Python Temple:

There is a place in Benin where they worship snakes. Well, at least they did at one time, now it seems like the temple’s main purpose it to turn a profit for locals but who could resist a room full of dozens of pythons? Not I!

Kelly wasn't quite as comfortable with the Pythons as me.

I was slightly concerned when the guide picked up a python and wrapped it around my neck like a scarf but turns out that the snakes were very docile and cuddly.

By the way, I’ve been waiting a long time to tell you that I’ve been in Benin… to get there you’re gunna need to leave Ghana and then you need to go to Togo.

 Cape 3 Points:

The southern most point in Ghana comes complete with a lighthouse, whale watching and sea turtles. Unfortunately, I came at the wrong season for everything but the lighthouse, which apparently is there almost all year long.

Voodoo Forest:

There was also a forest, which was a sacred voodoo forest, which was more of a sculpture garden, which was supposedly home of a man who turned himself into a tree hundreds of years ago. He has gotten very tall since.

The tree that used to be a man... see, I told you he was pretty tall, even for a tree.

This was a cute statue... you know, in a completely evil and terrifying way.

Here’s a look at where I’ve been over the last few months:

I think I’ve done just about everything there is to do in Ghana… Oh yeah. I took some classes too, all of which I have completed with the exception of one exam next week. 

See ya in a week.

Volta Region

I have a few hours before I head out again on another trip so I thought I would quickly post a short description of my weekend trip to the Volta Region.

On Friday, myself, Molly, Catherine and her dad who flew in to visit for the week, left Accra and by nightfall we had arrived at Tafi Atome Monkey Sanctuary. We spent the night there and in the morning we fed the monkeys and went for a stroll through the forest. I fed a monkey a banana and it was pretty awesome. The little thing jumped onto my arm and shredded the banana peel off with it’s tiny fingers. To be honest this was my second attempt… On my first try the monkey ripped the banana out of my hand and ran off, jumping into a tree to eat it. That was no fun for me so the second time, I held tightly so the monkey would have to stay if it wanted to eat.

After breakfast we moved on to Wli Falls, the tallest waterfall in West Africa. The falls are in two segments, the upper falls and the lower falls. It’s a quick and flat 40 minute hike to the lower falls but the upper falls were a steep and fairly strenuous 2 hour climb. I wore flip flops which was a horrible idea but nevertheless I made it and the completely deserted upper falls were definitely worth the hike.

View half way up the climb

Cliff face near the falls

Wli - Upper falls

... for a sense of scale

Wli - Lower falls. See all the bats on the cliff face?

Ok. you see them for sure now.

Wli - Lower falls

On the way back this morning I came across a tro-tro mate (guy who yells the destination and collects money) wearing a very unlikely shirt:

Please, somebody calculate the chances of that… I was curious where and how he came across the shirt but its true origin will remain a mystery since he told me that he bought the shirt from someone in Accra. 

Despite everything, the craziest experience for me this weekend was realizing that 3 weeks from today I'll be back in Ohio... times flies.

Blah Blah Blog

Sorry, It’s been a while. I guess I should list off my excuses to why I didn’t bother to blog for the last month or so. But that would be something you would expect… now for something completely unexpected.

Pretzels. I found pretzels in the last month and have been enjoying them ever since I first saw them sitting on the shelf of the bakery in Koala Supermarket, the most wonderful place in Accra. Do you know what’s wonderful about pretzels? Neither do I. They’re just amazing and I don’t know exactly why.  So close to salty bread yet so far away.

Peach Ice Tea. Also found at Koala and also amazingly amazingtastic. Peach Tea is well publicized as my favorite thing in all the universe and the day I found it was without a doubt one of my favorite days of the semester. I can remember everything about that day down to the weather: it was sunny and warm, the air was thick with humidity and there was a moderate haze over the city. Wait. That’s everyday… time to talk about things…

A thing I did on Earthday was plant trees. I wrote about the Green Ghana Project before and this was the culmination of my planting and growth monitoring efforts. I hate to spare all the thrilling details but we went to a village, stuck a thousand or so trees in the ground, cleaned off, waited for a TV crew and reenacted the effort for TV3. Goats were also involved, some buckets too.

I mountain biked in the mountains above Accra… with a bike.

My notebook is green.

So are my shoes… at least they used to be.

From the perspective of me in January: My shoes are and will have been green.

I need to study for my finals… but not too much.

There was a hang gliding festival on Easter but I unfortunately could not attend.

I’m on my 3^rd pair of sandals.

Rainy season is starting.

These are things that I would say on Twitter if I had an account.

Q: I wonder exactly how long white walls stay white in Ghana.

…And that

A: 2.756 Days

… That too.

They actually paint the first four feet of buildings dark red to match the color the dirt would stain it.

Oh, I went to Benin a couple weeks ago. I’ll do a post about that someday. Kelly says she wants to co-author it. We’ll see if that happens… (and just read this and says we are going to if Alan would ever take the time out of his non-busy day to do it…Plus the last time we worked on it I had to go to the hospital for possibly questionable bacterial problems misdiagnosed under the false positive lab result of typhoid—thus the blog will be happening!!!!!!!!!!!!!) J  -that was Kelly. Last time I let her proof read a post.

Yes. It will sound like that.

Update: we’ve already started writing it but got bored.

Update from the future: We’ve written it. I don’t remember how good it was.

See you in 26 days.

I’ll of course blog before then.

</end>

p.s. This is what I sound like when I write at 2am.

The West

It was 2am and we still didn’t have a place to stay for the night. The road eroded into a boulder field and our taxi driver’s expression turned from weary to frustrated as he sighed he looked back at two boys in the back seat he picked up by the road side as navigators after he found himself lost and clueless to our destination. The navigators urged him onward repeating to Kelly in the back seat that it was still far. Indeed, when we got lost the first time a security guard in Busua told our driver that Green Turtle Lodge was “too far” and told us to stay in Busua for the night. That was an hour ago and it was beginning to seem that he was right but we were American, and therefore stubborn. We wanted to stay at Green Turtle Lodge Friday and no matter how many curveballs the universe threw at us, we were going to get there.

As I awoke from my 5^th unintentional micro-nap, we turned into the road leading to Green Turtle. We made it! This was certainly going to be the grandest beach ever. It had to be. A flashlight suspended in the air bounced its way to our cab from the deserted but still dimly lit beach side bar. There was a place for us to stay for the night. Relief. So much for the closest thing to stress I would experience this weekend.

The weekend was meant to be a ultra relaxing celebration of the fact that Kelly and I had both sorted out our lives and decided to accept offers to graduate school. Kelly had just been offered a place at her dream program of Masters of Fine Arts in Film Production and Directing at UCLA. I had been offered a place at The University of Strathclyde in Glasgow for a Masters of Science In Sustainable Engineering specializing in Offshore Renewable Energy. We both planned to, and did, accept the offers on Sunday.

Our accommodation on Friday was a tent directly on the beach, under a palm tree not 50 feet from the ocean. Camping on the beach for the win! Arriving at 2am with no reservation just made it that much better.

In the morning we went to the office of the lodge to pay our bill and inquire about staying there on Saturday. It was booked solid but the woman who owned the place told us to check Ezile Bay, which was about a kilometer down the beach. We had some French toast for breakfast and then followed a member of the hotel staff who was instructed to guide us to Ezile Bay.

After winding through the huts of Akwidaa, crossing a wooden plank pedestrian bridge over a tidal lagoon and climbing through some forested hills, we arrived at the resort. The beach wrapped around the bay and was utterly vacant since we were the only guests.

As I was checking out the rooms available, Kelly had a conversation with our guide who informed her that the border with Cote D’Ivoire had been closed and as a result, refugees were entering Ghana by boat, making landfall in towns like Akwidaa. We were only about 100 miles from Abidjan as the boat sails and maybe only 50 miles from the Ivorian Border.

While relaxing on the beach, dozens of boats passed by the bay, I couldn’t tell whether the people on board were fishermen or refugees. A military cargo plane flew along the coast, over our heads on its way to Cote D’Ivoire.

We went swimming in the bay and made it a good hundred meters out before I felt uncomfortable with my abilities as an ocean swimmer and I got sick of the taste of salt water. We were thinking about trying to swim to the town on the other side of the bay but there was quite a bit of boat traffic and I was just plain tired. I think Kelly could have handled the swim but I’m not great at swimming so it seemed too risky. We let the waves take us back in and then set out for dinner.

Spaghetti, yay!

There was no electricity so we were provided with oil lanterns to carry around with us. They were pretty sweet.. but got kinda hot so bringing them into the room was unwise.

That night I slept for about a billion hours and when I awoke the plan was to get breakfast and head back for Accra. I had French toast again. I’d give it a 7 out of 10.

In Akwidaa we waited for a tro to take us on our way back to Takoradi, the capitol of the Western Region, from which we could get transport to Accra.

We managed to find a bus going to Accra but unfortunately, it was nearly full so Kelly and I couldn’t get a pair of seats next to each other. We split up and I ended up in the back next to a Ghanaian Air Force member who just came back from deployment as part of a UN peacekeeping force in Lebanon.

Kelly however, got well… extremely very not lucky. The only seat remaining was a fold down seat over the stairs leading down to the door. She was forced to curl up on the ledge of the seat or let her legs dangle freely over the entryway abyss tempting her fate with falling every time we hit a bump. At least it was only a 4 hour ride.

When we got back, we stopped at Busy Internet, a decent internet café in Accra, and accepted our respective grad school offers. Then we went to get some dinner at an Indian restaurant in Osu. I haven’t had nearly enough Indian food in my life. It was amazingly good.

That was the end to the weekend’s adventure but more will come. What’s next? Who knows.

Oh by the way, my beard is gone.

Bui National Park

As I sat in a canoe on the Black Volta River watching the nearby hippos I thought about how few people would see this place before it was destroyed in June. The construction of a 450MW hydroelectric plant on the Black Volta by Sino Hydro, a Chineese company, would flood 40% of the park, driving away the hippo population not to mention the people who live here. To compensate, the government will be paying 100GHS ($65) per household that will be washed away. But it isn’t just the houses that they are taking, these people survive by fishing the river. They have no idea how to fish the lake that will result from the dam. So, 65 bucks for a home and a livelihood… fair deal. From where I sat in Bui National Park, Cote d’Ivoire laid only 20km away, I couldn’t decide which humanitarian mess troubled me more.

The situation here really made me reflect upon the potential negative impact my work could have as an engineer. By no means did it discourage me from striving to help with the development of renewable energy in the future but it did reinforce my ideals of not blindly following my employer’s objective, as I’m sure the engineers at Sino Hydro did. If they knew what they were doing to the small but still relevant population of fishermen and the huge population of hippopotamus I doubt it could have been easy for them to design the plant without at least some sleepless nights. It is easy to pawn the blame off on the company for taking the contract or Ghana for requesting the plant but ultimately, the engineers who hold the knowledge to actually implement technology and choose to carry it out are no less to blame, possibly more so.

I knew that this was going to be a unique experience since the drive in but I certainly didn’t expect to see anything which would impact me so much.

I twisted uncomfortably around in my seat to watch the dust cloud in our wake as we made into the bush near the Ivorian border. The sight of the dust billowing behind us in front of the setting sun was fantastic enough to warrant the discomfort… not that comfort was an option when facing forward either. This was a tro-tro after all.

Eventually Kelly and I arrived at the park headquarters, or what we were told was the park headquarters. The Ghanaian national parks logo painted on a board leaning against some hippo skulls sat on the porch of a grey shack. This must be it? Luckily, a man wearing a parks uniform approached us and introduced himself. We were indeed at the headquarters. What was more of a surprise to me was the fact that we were the only visitors at the park and the first in days.

This place was beautiful. And also apparently had hippos… how can it be so unpopular? No one talked about Bui, it was never advertised and the section in the guidebook was only a few paragraphs. Until the hand painted plank at the park headquarters, I hadn’t even a sign for the park. There must be a reason that the park was merely a phantom to the outside world.

After the park caretaker had kindly taken me into town on his motorcycle to get some rice for dinner, the visiting population of Bui doubled. A cab dropped off two more tourists, Rick and Lawrence, medical students from the Netherlands. They were working in a hospital in a small town a couple hours south of Bui. They were also there to see some hippos and it was arranged for the four of us to begin our hike to the fishing village where we would charter canoes at 5am the next morning.

Uggh… there were more cockroaches in this guesthouse but no mosquito nets. Thankfully, I was really tired and my iPod kept me distracted for long enough to fall asleep before I sensed any sign of giant cockroaches near me as I slept. I need to get over my fear of enormous bugs… maybe next trip… probably never.

5am, time to go! I slipped on my sandals thinking that the discomfort of the 8km hike would be worth it to avoid getting my shoes wet. It was still pitch black out and we only got 30 feet before I stubbed my toe on a rock. It was the same toe as last time when I was returning from Togo. It had just healed too. Back to my room. Hand sanitizer, band-aides and real shoes. Good to go!

Sunrise

One sunrise later we arrived at the small village where our guide arranged for four pairs of fishermen to take us up the Black Volta on their canoes. At the river bank the canoes, half full of water, were waiting for us. Once they were bailed out we began our journey.

I can’t express how glad I was that we were in the hands of experienced fishermen who had been fishing this river, and avoiding hippo attack, for their whole lives. Canoeing into the habitat of some of the worlds most aggressive and dangerous animals could have been stressful if it weren’t for this.

One of the two fishermen on my boat

Canoeing in the Bui Gorge was actually worth the trip in itself. The jungle was lush on either side and beyond the trees, loomed mountains in the distance. There were tons of  colorful birds flying in routes criss crossing the river and the guide was explaining the diversity of wildlife found in the park: monitor lizards, cobra, lion, leopard, monkeys, green and black mamba. The last of which concerned me slightly.

After floating past some strange volcanic looking boulders in the river, a sandbar occupied the middle of the river. Above the sandbar I saw a small jet of water spray into the air. Hippos?

We rounded the corner of the sand bar and sure enough there were four hippos basking in the water. It was already warm so they had moved to the deeper water to allow for maximum cooling Because of this, all we could see was theirs heads protruding from the surface of the water… It was still magnificent to see just the heads of such awesome animals, let alone share the water with them.

Hippo heads protruding the water

After staying in place for about ten minutes to view the hippos, we moved on to other common spots of hippo congregation. These were less fruitful but still provided great general wildlife viewing. Our guide explained that there had been a British researcher several years ago who brought a whole team down to Bui to study the hippos and other animals. In his paper, he brought light to the fact that the construction of the hydroelectric plant would be catastrophic to the hippo populations. The Ghanaian government didn’t appreciate this and banned him from ever entering the country again. This happened when the dam was still in the planning stages, now it was years into construction and only a couple months from displaying these catastrophic effects. Now I understood why this place was never spoken of, never advertised, rarely visited and so far from common public knowledge. The government wanted it that way. Wouldn’t you if you were about to destroy a place so amazing?

After a few hours on the river, and passing the first group of hippos again, a little closer this time (maybe 80-100 ft away), we ended our cruise.

As we walked back to the park headquarters we passed through the village of Bui, a town which had been inhabited since the 16th century, I couldn’t help but stop and take a few pictures. Next month everyone in Bui will be forced out of their homes to allow for the park to be flooded in June.

A tro was passing through as we arrived at the headquarters. Possibly, the only one for hours. We hopped on and were on our way back to Wenchi. Before we headed south, the tro-tro took a detour through a blue gate marked in Chinese. It stopped at a dusty lot full of industrial equipment and picked up at least half a dozen men wearing blue overalls with “SinoHydro” stamped on the front. I wondered if they weren’t from around here or maybe they were just desperate enough for money to destroy their home. 

Aventure Grande - Partie Quatre

It was Thursday morning in Atakpamé, Togo. Hannah, Corbett and I were on a stroll through the market district after a breakfast of omelets, bread and an inexorbant amount of Yoki Pomplemouse soda… ok, maybe it was just me who drank 2 liters of that. The road meandered down the hillside through the makeshift landfill. Another trash heap… this one was on fire though. If there was ever air that I wanted to avoid breathing it was here, among the burning trash fumes. I saw a dead rat in the trash heap. I guess it was too much for him to handle too.

Eventually, we meandered our way back up the hill and into the center of town to catch a tro to our next destination. I realize that I painted a fairly bleak image of Atakpamé, but by no means was it a bad town. In fact, aside from the trash, it was one of the more beautiful places I’ve been. The whole town was built on a strangely placed hill amidst the savannah I could see it being a very pleasant and relaxing place to live.

A more appealing view of Atakpame

Nevertheless, onwards we went. Crammed into a tro-tro headed for Badou I enjoyed the view of south central togo as we climbed onto the mountain on treacherous switchback roads crumbing at the edges. It would have been frightening if it weren’t for the fact that we had the road to ourselves and there were no passing vehicles.

Here’s a video to give you an idea of what it’s like aboard a tro-tro:

After traveling for nearly three hours I finally saw Badou in the valley below and I knew that I wasn’t going to make it… I really needed to use the bathroom and at least a dozen kilometers of brutally bumpy switchbacks and mountain road lie between me and the nearest proper facility. It would have been something like riding “The Mean Streak” at Cedar Point for half an hour consecutively when the bathroom is all you could think about... utter hell. I made the tro stop to let me out. It continued without the three of us.

I had caused us to be stranded on a mountain road several kilometers from town with a long winding hike through the rainforest between ourselves and water… Some friend I am. Despite the unfortunate situation I had landed us in, it was actually an exceedingly beautiful place and the hike down to Badou was fun. Being stranded atop a mountain and having to hike a remote road through the rainforest to town is actually not such a bad fate.

Where we were stranded... thanks to me

Once in town we drank a ton of water, ate some rice and began to search for a ride to the Ghanaian border. After some negotiating for price, Corbett found a trio of moto drivers willing to take us. To our surprise, the border was 20km away through a narrow dirt road which was impassible by car… Good thing we were taking motorcycles.

I assumed that our drivers were exaggerating the road conditions to get a better price from us but there was no exaggeration whatsoever. I soon found myself clinging to the back of a motorcycle racing through the pothole laden dirt “road” which was scarcely wider than a hiking trail at highway type speeds. The forest thickened and before I knew it we were deep within the rainforest with enormous trees flying by on either side as my driver weaved in and out on the trail avoiding puddles and potholes without breaking pace. Ferns swatted my elbows as we cornered and weaved and the sky began to darken, threatening rain. Eventually we came upon a small shack with a Togolese flag waving above it. The border?

Yes… but only sort of. He had no means of stamping our passports, and therefore, no means of extending our Ghanaian visas (which need to be renewed every 60 days by international travel or paying a fee in Accra). Disappointed, we decided to pay the fee in Accra and continued for the Ghanaian checkpoint hoping they could stamp our passports.

More jungle roads and then we turned off the path onto a plywood, plank and lumber store discount pile hack job of a bridge over a small stream. On the other side was a lady (troll?) demanding a 5cedi toll. Of course, our drivers made us pay. We rolled over to the bench where Ghanaian soldiers monitored the international road traffic: one guy and a basket of fruit (rush hour). They informed us that this was an unofficial border crossing and were welcome to cross back into Ghana but there would never be any official, passport record of our return and therefore we would run into a whole heap of trouble whenever we tried to use our passports again. Luckily, there was another crossing to the north that could process our passports.

Back on the bikes. Back over the bridge. Back through the jungle. Back to unnecessary, dangerous and exceedingly fun speeds. Trees whipped by on the left and right once again and I thought “This is the closest I’ll ever be to riding a land speeder on Endor.” … nah, this is cooler. Luke Skywalker aint got nothin’ on me!

The trees broke, we entered a clearing and the forested mountain range revealed itself over the green vegetation. I watched the vista whirr by and thought about how this very well could be the coolest thing I’d ever done. Back into the forest. The sky darkened, the road flattened and we went faster still.

The accelerator eased and we coasted to a stop in a small village with a small brick building at the edge. A real border crossing with real stamps, Huzzah!

STAMP!

Walk a bit. Paperwork, small talk, confusion, STAMP! Back in Ghana. The confusion was likely due to the fact that I don’t think any non-Ghanaian, non-Togolese had crossed at this remote checkpoint in years.

We hopped in a car and were off to Kadjebi, Ghana. Then to a Ho-Hoe bound tro tro. I shared the front seat with a tragically misinformed Nigerian. After an hour and a half of explaining that African Americans in the US aren’t segregated into a separate state from everyone else I mercifully arrived in Ho-Hoe… Where did he come up with an idea like that? … It still baffles me.

Dinner!

Another Tro! ... or not.

We boarded a tro to Accra but we had to wait for it to fill first before the driver would leave. So we sat… and sat… and stood … and sat again … and fell asleep … and woke … and got impatient. After over 3 hours of waiting, the van was full and we were able to leave for Accra.

Another 3 hours later, at 3:30AM, we arrived in Accra. The journey was over but my wounds were not. With ISH in sight, I stubbed my toe at Opungalu causing it to bleed profusely… Of course, I spent a week on an epic adventure, come home unharmed just to wound myself at home… Of all the stories I could have behind that scar, It will just be the time I was tired and stumbled over a brick outside ISH… sigh.

THE END.

Aventure Grande - Partie Trois

Due to an internet outage I was not able to continue my daily Togo series but the tubes are once again unclogged and I shall now continue.

First of all, I would like to take care of some business of acknowledgement. I have uploaded all of Corbett’s Togo pictures and they are now available for viewing on my Picasa photostream. I’ll be honest, her pictures are way better than mine (mostly because I avoid people pictures) so her contribution is greatly appreciated. If you’re reading: Thank you Corbett!

Back to the story…

I awoke just before sunrise to the sound of prayer calls echoing through the hills of Sokodé from a multitude of mosques. It was actually a very pleasant alarm clock but I wasn’t ready to wake up yet so after a minute or two of appreciating the sounds, I fell back to sleep.

Eventually, I woke up permanently and the three of us embarked upon a breakfast excursion in the markets of Sokodé. After perusing the many options I settled on having two baguettes, buttered of course, and a fried ball of dough. Nutritious!

We eventually stumbled upon a place to get some coffee to go with the food aspects of breakfast. The place was called “Café Obama” and on the inside there was an enourmas “Yes we can” painted on the wall. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before but there are countless hotels and cafés across west Africa which bear our president’s name… he’s popular in these parts.

Cafe Obama

After, café Obama we began a post breakfast stroll through the streets of Sokodé. The red dirt roads led us to a small stream and a gauntlet of lush avocado trees and palms. It was almost like an oasis of greenery in the dry savannah and cityscape.

We followed this road up the hill and passed by a rocky hill, on top of which sat the city’s water tower. Some men were hanging around the entrance to the stairs, the view from the water tower hill had to be great… You know we had to ask.

Corbett approached the first man and began in French, he replied and based on her explanation this is what was said: “Well, due to security concerns there’s something you have to do first…” Uggh, red tape… “Ask my boss… boss?” he motioned to the old man next to him. “Yeah, of course. Lets go.” That was easy.

The boss led us up the steep, mossy stairs cut into the hillside and after rounding the water tower we reached a platform which had a great view of Sokodé. The town itself wasn’t spectacular but the savannah stretched out almost endlessly until it met the hazy mountains on the horizon.

View from the top

The old boss had some trouble operating the camera to take group photo but instead, took a stellar self-portrait when he pointed the camera in the wrong direction to take our picture.

The Bossman

We thanked him and went back down to the road to continue our aimless stroll of Sokodé. It was a lovely day in a lovely town. The best part for me was being in a place where absolutely no tourists go. Sokodé has no real attractions and therefore, no one waiting to take advantage of tourists. Everyone we met was kind, honest and I imagine, an appropriate representation of most Togolese.

Some highlights of our aimless stroll included a grove of gnarled old tress with boulders that could conceivably have become a great reading and thinking spot, a fantastic mossy rock wall and the city’s trash heap.

OMG, a trash heap!! ... why was I so excited? I don't know.

We relaxed at a café and ate our lunch under some trees by the roadside and watched the world go by.

Eventually, we made our way out of town and decided to head back to Atakpame. We arrived in Atakpame at sunset and made our way to a restaurant to eat on tree stump tables? It was interesting furniture and decent food.

The plan for the next day was to head westward.

TO BE CONTINUED…