To Go To Togo

Dozens of people swarmed the narrow doorway pushing those in front of them up the stairs, some getting pinned against the folded glass door. The night air was thick with panic and diesel fumes. There was only one option, hold my bag tightly and hope I could stay on my feet to avoid trampling.

After I boarded the Metro-mass bus to Tema Station it was much less stressful. This was the first leg of our journey to Togo. Our group consisted of Tim, Hannah, Corbett, Catherine and her sister Megan whose flight had just landed a few hours earlier. We had originally planned to catch a tro-tro from Madina to Aflao, a city on the Ghanaian side of the border, but the last tro of the night left before we arrived so we were left with finding transport via Tema Station in Accra instead. Apparently, there were a lot of people wanting to get from Madina to Accra last Friday night so when the metro-mass bus arrived it was popular enough to nearly cause trampling.

After crisscrossing the city for a couple hours we finally found a tro to Aflao and were on our way. Unfortunately, we hadn’t left soon enough to cross the border that night and when we arrived in Aflao three hours later we had to find a hotel and wait for Saturday to enter Togo at the capitol and border city of Lomé.

Lome skyline from our hotel in Aflao

This was the largest border crossing between Ghana and Togo but it was still fairly unofficial looking. It was merely a dirt road with brick buildings on either side with immigrations officials for Ghana on one side, Togo on the other. Oh, and a beautiful beach not even 20 meters away... how those people can work with that out their window, I have no idea. Anyways, goodbye Ghana. One visa later I was in Togo and on my way to breakfast.

There are definitely some advantages to being in a former French colony, not least of which is the amazing food. We went to a delightful café slash ice cream shop where I ordered banana and honey crepes with a glass of fresh orange juice. This instantly elevated the status of my day to nothing short of awesometastic.

After breakfast we made our way to Coco Beach where we planned to stay the night. It was only about 10km outside of Lomé but that was enough to reduce the price of a beach side room, er.. hut, to 6,000CFA ($12). And what a beach it was. The water was brilliantly blue, the beach was empty and the waves crashed furiously. On the horizon loomed a chain of cargo ships waiting for a place to dock at the Port of Lomé.

One of the huts on Coco Beach

We booked our hotel, dropped off our bags and made our way back to Lomé to visit the Voodoo Market, leaving behind Corbett who had been there before and claimed it was too touristy. She was right.

Tables and tables of animal skulls sat before us as we walked into the open marketplace. It was mostly deserted except for a few people waiting to greet us and charge an entry fee… Then a camera fee. I smelt tourist trap and opted out of using my camera.

Our guide explained that everything in the market was actually from Benin, Togo’s neighbor to the east. Disappointing. He also assured us that all the animals died of natural causes. A lie, later exposed by a kid working for one of the vendors whose response to “How do you get these skulls?” was an enthusiastic “We kill!”. There were monkey, hyena, buffalo, hippo and elephant skulls among others all rotting in the direct sunlight. It smelled delightful.

Eventually our guide took us inside a nearby shelter where he had his friend, a son of a voodoo priest or something along those lines, sit us down, show us an array of charms and explain their uses. Good luck, safe travels, love whatever you could ask for. He then placed overturned turtle shells before us and told us to place whatever we wished to purchase inside. “Don’t worry about the price. The spirits will give you a good price!” he said. I smirked and handed back everything having no intention to waste money on this fool. Megan also had the same opinion and chose not to buy anything. We were told to leave since the ritual to activate the charm and ask the spirits for the price was for the eyes of paying customers only. Haha, I wanted to see that so badly…

Megan and I walked out. I chuckled as I left mostly because this whole place was hilarious but also because I was thinking about how badly “the spirits” were going to rip my friends off.

As I waited, I thought about how cool this place could have been if it was a legitimate voodoo market instead of a tourist trap. Too bad.

Everyone emerged with their hugely expensive trinkets in hand and we headed out. As we left, another batch of white tourists, cameras in hand walked in. As ridiculous as that guy was, you know he has to be making bank.

Back at Coco Beach I enjoyed the tremendous surf. I of course can’t surf but it was still fun to let the enormous waves break over me as I waded in the water. Later, We had dinner and I boldly chose a beverage called “Lion Killer” … it was pretty much just Sprite, still good though.

I woke up early on Sunday so I could watch the sunrise. An added benefit was the ability to watch the Togolese ritual of Sunday morning runs which I had heard about. Every Sunday morning around sunrise, nearly everyone just gets up and goes for a run. Coco Beach was fairly remote so only a few dozen people ran by but it was still interesting considering back in Ghana, running recreationally is almost unheard of.

At breakfast Megan's West Africa travel guide was sitting on the table and it led to the discussion of possible trips. I made the mistake of saying that there really wasn't anything to see in Mali based on nothing but ignorance. Corbett quickly corrected me and showed me the section on Dogon Country, where villages were built into cliff faces. It looked amazing and my opinion of Mali as a travel destination was completely reversed. I said that I wanted to go to Mali right now. Corbett agreed. I said that I was completely serious and as it turned out, Corbett was as well. Hannah jumped in and added her willingness to go to Mali immediately. Everyone else had unavoidable obligations in the coming week so it was just the three of us. We would hang out in Togo as a group then in the morning we would depart for Mali and the Sahara Desert, a thousand mile excursion that would last over a week.

With our minds turned back to the present we decided to visit Lake Togo on Sunday before heading back to Lome. We squeezed into a cab and were off to the lake, which coincidentally is actually a lagoon.

As we disembarked from the taxi we were greeted by a man who said he was willing to take us across the lake on his boat for  modest price. I don't know if I mentioned this before, but in Togo they speak French so during this whole trip I was dependent on the few French speakers in the group... just a side note.

Our destination across the lake was Togoville, a small community which well, none of us knew anything about nor did we have any desire to go there if it weren't for the fact that we wanted to ride on a boat and the prospects of finding lunch there seemed good. We climbed aboard, they unfurled the sail and began to punt across gondolier style. We floated between fishermen wading in the lagoon, tending to their nets and the tree lined shore.

Corbett and Catherine in the row ahead on our boat trip to Togoville

Once we arrived in Togoville there was a tour association who wanted to charge us a fee for a tour guide. We expressed that we had no knowledge of any such requirement when we boarded the boat and they agreed to let us wander without paying a guide. Nevertheless, a guide followed us and gave us background on the village as well as assisting in our quest for lunch. The main attraction of Togoville is the cathedral and shrine to the Virgin Mary who appeared on the lake nearly forty years ago. Pope John Paul II subsequently visited to confirm the miracle… Strange that we accidentally stumbled upon something so interesting.

Where The Pope sat (inside the Cathedral) 

We ate some lunch and headed back across the lake, then to Lomé and the Gran Marché. I had only packed for two days so an extended desert adventure was beyond my current means. I purchased some new (used) shirts for about 80 cents each and a backpack to hold the extra clothes. The backpack was quite a find. It is heavily used but is an enormous hiking backpack with a lot of character. I have a feeling it will be one of my most cherished souvenirs from Africa.

My new (very old) backpack!

Tim, Catherine and Megan departed for the Ghanaian Frontier and Corbett, Hannah and I began our search for a hotel so that we could begin our adventure in the morning. Prices in Lomé were discouraging so we ended up back near Coco Beach at a hotel named Chez Alice. Alice's house was pretty nice, there was a courtyard with a really playful monkey who enjoyed climbing arms and jumping from tree branches to my face. But what was more exciting was the fact that they served home made iced tea at the hotel bar! It was the first iced tea I had since arriving in africa and the best I've had in my life. It was a very strong assortment of berries and tea which ended up being deep purple in color. With iced tea in hand and the sun setting, I finally comprehended that I was about to go on a grand adventure... I was utterly content.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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