6th March 2013

Souvenir from Ghana.

Root canal treatment!

When we were on our way to Abidjan to get a Ghana visa, I felt as if someone had fired about 300volts through one of my teeth, it really stopped me in my tracks. I recovered and felt that this was an emergency waiting its opportunity. I decided that as soon as we got to Ghana I would make this my priority.

Arriving at the Ghana border was a surprisingly pleasant experience particularly as everyone spoke English. The first official greeted us with a cheery ‘Hellooo dehr!” We got through in record time. We moved on but not without another 300volt through my tooth. Wow!

We found a place that was happy for us to camp on the football field of the hotel. Nothing was too much trouble and it was such a beautiful spot right alongside the beach. It was such a treat to stay at a hotel that was a bit ‘up market’ and they didn’t mind us at all. The only real worry was when I noticed that we had parked right behind the archery target. We had a very nice time in such a beautiful location but then we had to keep moving, being very aware that shipping arrangements had the potential to exceed our visa duration.

        Driving to our new home behind the archery target

As Ping said in her blog, we had met some very interesting and nice people.  Actually, as we were about to leave we met, almost in passing, with a family who have just been posted to work in West Africa, based in Ghana. Within a few moments of meeting we discovered that I had met his father who used to be a policeman in Brent where I once worked. It was a pleasant and interesting meeting and we were invited to lunch at their home in Accra. So a few days later we spent the day in a real house with a real family in it, so nice to be ‘normal’ for a while. It was a lovely day.

Countless slaves were driven into great dungeons before being transported to he Carribean, America and by far the greatest numbers to Brazil. No one has any idea how many!

We drove though the tropical countryside of Southern Ghana. We stopped in a town called Cape Coast which is the one time centre of the Slave trade. We had a guided tour of the fort where the slaves were kept after being traded until the ships arrived to take them to distant lands, having been crammed into squalid dungeons under threat of death and worse.  I cannot make this entry a detailed history of this wicked business. Suffice to say this visit was both moving and real. The museum and fort with its dungeons do what they can to ensure that this evil is never forgotten.

                                          Ah so many tropical beaches.

We stayed overnight not too far away and had another odd hotel camping experience. We arrived at a hotel again on the beach. Yes they were happy for us to camp it would cost 20 Ghana cedis (about £7) which seemed reasonable. We were shown to drive into an area of soft sand so we got bogged down once again. The facilities were at best basic and it became pretty clear that the boss was away. We had a meal there that turned out not only to be the most expensive chicken and chips but also possibly the worst.

We were about to go to bed when a member of staff came to us and said that they had mistakenly charged us in local currency when it should have been in US dollars. Wow $20, a bit pricey but oh well.

Then the next morning as Ping came out of the toilet she was ambushed by a member of staff who told her that they had mistaken the charges it should actually be $20per person so would we please cough up some more money. Blow that for a game of soldiers we just packed up and left. Needless to say there was no receipt or paperwork.

Ghana is an interesting country it is not all laughs and we understand much more of what we experience. The cost of living is growing almost out of control. There is an unfathomable mix of lots of international aid coming in as well as a lot of squabbling over who might benefit from the new oil revenue that is coming in. The infrastructure is in a poor state though it is developing. It is not my intention to criticise only to report what I see.

Having said that, one thing that urgently needs to be worked on is the untearable

toilet paper.  Full of reassuring perforations the toilet paper in this country is absolutely untearable causing all manner of frustration and difficulty.  It just rolls and rolls and if you apply some tension the strip lengthens, those little perforations enlarge and elongate but they never actually tear. My tip to other travellers is ‘never go to the bog without scissors’.

Most of our travelling has been in the Southern (coastal) part of Ghana which is mostly lush, green tropical landscape but indescribably hot and humid.  I just want the sweating to stop!

Talking of sweating…… You may recall that I mentioned that I was having a small dental issue, having had 300 volts passing through my tooth a couple more times. Each time this happened, it came out of the blue and I had to sit down and sweat for a few minutes as it was such intense, severe pain.

So I contacted the High commission and they sent me a list of dentists. I also spoke to our new friend from the first hotel who recommended a dentist who happened to be at the top of the list. I called him he was happy to see me that afternoon. We arrived, I was seen straight away by  a man who will now be referred to as Dennis the Dentist he stuck me in the chair and examined the tooth by tapping it with a hammer and sending 300 volts through it! He took Xrays and showed me what the problem was. I wish that I had the presence of mind to have got the xray to put on the blog and then you would , like me be able to see exactly what was happening. It was perfectly clear that any day now the the hole would be clear through and my nerve would be looking at the stars, I sweat at the very thought. Anyhow the upshot was that Dennis was talking about 3 sessions, but he was really good and quite free with the local anaesthetic. I was very good. He then decided that he would do the whole thing in 1 sitting. I was in the chair for about 2  hours  At the end I was completely rinsed and numb and unable to speak and had to drive an hour in heavy Accra traffic back to our campsite. Dennis, the dentist was very good and as I wobbled out of the chair he administered the the coup de gras with his bill. Another 300volt, this time through my wallet.

Shipping:

Following the last blog, many have written to ask why we are shipping the van.

 We have had to seek alternative routes due to the recent conflicts in Mali, concerns about driving through Nigeria and the impossibility of getting a visa for Angola. We decided that it would be best to ship from Ghana(English speaking) to Namibia.

We should have liked to do more touring further north but we have been quite preoccupied with concerns that shipping our van may get complicated. So we made our way to Ghana’s main port - Tema.  Remember the Mary Hopkin song? ‘Sing a song of Tema Harbour’ giant lemon trees coconut groves and cooking fish on the beach.  Well it’s nothing like that. It is a very busy commercial port. Not too much charm or romance.

The book that has given us so much valuable information all the way so far is the Overland handbook. Thanks to Chris Scott for such a comprehensive and helpful guide. In this book is a chapter describing all the things that can and often will go wrong in the process of shipping.  It scared the willies out of both of us.

I mentioned earlier that we met some nice and interesting people. While we were camped by the archery target, a pleasant couple walked by looked at us and the bloke said ‘is that really an English registered van?’ So we got talking and two things emerged. The first and most important is that they are very nice and interesting people with a lot of common interests. The second is that Conrad works for a man who owns a shipping business and most of Tema harbour. Conrad kindly arranged for us to be well looked after by the company which is based in Tema.

The upshot of this introduction is that the helpful team in this company have arranged the shipping. Despite my creative measuring it is simply not possible to get the van into a container and to use a container known as an open rack would cost significantly more, perhaps twice as much. The port for Namibia, Walvis Bay only handles container cargo. The team then set about finding an alternative. Very quickly they found a ship that only carries vehicles on a roll on roll off basis would dock soon at Tema. It was bound for Durban and had space.  A decision made and a quote was organised. And we were set.

                         Francis, the hero of the hour.

We first  went to see them on the Wednesday that we arrived and on the following Wednesday we were getting the customs document (Carnet de Passage) signed off by a charming lady customs officer. We handed the key over to Francis the incredibly helpful man from the shipping agency, so he could drive it onto the ship and he called us a cab to take us back to Accra.

We had just got back to Accra when I got a frantic call from Francis asking ‘Why have you given me the wrong key?’ He was unable to get into the van. I told him I would jump in a taxi and take the 2 hour journey back to the docks. He told me I would not make it in time for the sailing. I had to try.   In the taxi it was after many phone calls on the way that the penny dropped! I realised that due to the extreme heat over the past few days, the locks on the van had become increasingly difficult to operate. So as we sat dreadfully stressed in the 5pm rush hour going nowhere and the ship was literally waiting to depart. I told Francis that the door was not locked.

“Yes it is”, he said

“No it isn't”, I said

“Yes it is”, he said

I said over the phone, “pull hard on the handle”

“No it won’t open, it’s locked!” he said

“Pull harder” I said

“oh yeh! It’s open!”

I could hear the engine of our van start and I told the taxi driver who was quietly going psychotic with the traffic that he should turn round and take us back. Wow some kind of stress!

Despite my highly charged state, I went on the inter web thingy that night, and put in ‘MV Trapeze track’( have a look for yourself) and we watched our ship sailing out of Tema harbour and to the open sea. At this point we really didn’t know if the van had made it.

The next morning I got a call from Francis to say he had sent me an email I looked at it confirmed that the van was on the ship and he thought we might like some picture of it being loaded and they were attached. What a hero.

So shipped in record time and we had visual evidence of the van on the ship and of the ship sailing. How cool is that?

I have to thank Dickson Odei at Bollore Africa Logistics Ghana Limited | Commercial Warehouse Road, Main Harbour | P. O. Box 51 |Tema – Ghana

And all his team for a job really well done.

As I write this it is Tuesday. Our flight is booked for Johannesburg tomorrow evening.

The only real fly in the ointment at the moment is our bank arranged to transfer funds to pay for this, but have so far failed to complete the transaction. I am sure it will get done, but the shippers are very clear that they won’t release any paperwork or the van until it is transferred.

Next time anyone talks about the inefficiency of Africa  and never getting anything done, consider this; The West African owned, run and based shipping company has functioned in an efficient, friendly and effective way and got the job done  in record time.  What is the hold up now? Our bank, Santander is unable/unwilling to administer the cash transfer effectively even though the money was taken from our account last week! It’s a funny old world isn’t it?

Big Milly’s Backyard

This may be a little disjointed but to avoid confusion I have not told you about two more hotels but as they can get a bit entwined with the shipping story. So I will tell you about them separately.

Open all hours. Lovely lady had all the  hardware I needed.

                                   Forkhandles?

As we left the rural roads of Ghana and headed into Accra we needed somewhere to stay for a few days while we sorted out the shipping and it needed to be a place where they wouldn’t mind me working on the van to prepare it for shipping.

We had read about it in several guides and a friend also recommended this place just outside Accra. It is on the beach and very good we are told.  Well, we found the signpost for the village where this hotel is located and took the road. We found ourselves once again bumping and crashing down about 7km of unmade road, past numerous business’s with names that show the piety of the owners. The one I especially liked was a sign for ‘Thank god metal works’ I found myself thinking if metal didn’t work we would probably have walked across West Africa. I digress as I was brought back down to earth. 

The metal had held out but the rubber hadn’t! Puncture number 9 I think. We’ve lost count!  This time it was no one’s fault. We had picked up a large screw along the way.  I just loved changing that wheel in the midday sun and in a village in front of an audience.

We asked for directions to Big Milly’s backyard, fully expecting more mirth but the audience said yes, it just down that track over there.  The track led between two shops and into more of the village that went on a bit and did not look anything like a road to a hotel. We asked again for Big Milly’s and had our directions confirmed. Eventually we found it at the very end of the road, it was what can only be described as an encampment  of little souvenir shops, a restaurant, a juice bar  and  some traditional style buildings. All a bit chaotic but very interesting.

We checked in and were told where to collect our buckets of water for shower and flashing (sic)the toilet. I was abit crestfallen that this place depended on water being brought in by tanker as the piped water had given up a long while ago. The delightful staff, all gave off an air of being glad to work here. This is something that is hard to find in this part of the world.  We never discovered who or what Big Milly is as the owner is a woman from Dorset called Wendy who was away at the time.

               At Big Milly's preparing the van for shipping

This place is where many volunteers and expat workers come for weekend breaks. It is easy going and there seems to something for everyone. What was especially interesting was the diversity of people that you meet here. They have come to work in Ghana from all over the world, mostly to do ‘good work’ some for religious reasons, some want to make a difference and some just thought it would be interesting to come and do something worthwhile. They all had so much to tell about what they do. Really it was never dull here.

At Big Milly’s, no one seemed to mind that we came and went, having nights elsewhere but there would be always be a welcome back smile when we return. They didn’t mind when I had to do a lot of carpentry on the van and had to spread my toys around a bit.

As our arrangements for shipping formed up, which was a bit quicker than we could have believed, it was all change for us.

The Pink Hostel, Accra

Now this is another kettle of fish altogether. We had to book this in advance so that once we had handed the van over we would have somewhere to stay. Ping booked it online and paid a deposit. A friend of ours had gone to stay there and we hoped to meet up.

           It's really not pink it's a sort of beige and white

We arrived at the Pink Hostel by taxi from Tema Port having handed our van over for shipping. (This is where it starts to link up).  On our arrival here we received a text from our friend which said “Don’t go to the Pink Hostel, they don’t have any water and will lie to you that they have. I am staying at another hotel”.

So we went up to the desk and spoke to a man who we learnt was the manager and asked him:

Q.  We heard that you are having problems with water, is that  the case?

A. Absolutely no problem

Q. I want to be clear about this. Is there any problem with getting water here?

A. It’s fine

Q. So the water is running fine? 

A. No problem let me show you the room.

Up we tramped to the room. I went straight to the bathroom to find that not only was there no water, but also one of the taps was broken off and there was no shower hose.

I am not sure but I think some of you will have heard our hearts sinking even at home in the UK.

The manager, Richard was infectiously personable, despite lying in his teeth. He assured us that water would be pumped up after 5 o’clock.  We were hot and tired and caved in. A plastic bucket of water was duly delivered and we started to settle down. It was just then that the phone rang.  It was Francis (remember Francis?) telling us that the key did not fit the van. So a few minutes later we were in a taxi with a semi hysterical cab driver in dense traffic on our way to Tema Harbour (‘Sing a song of Tema Harbour and the coconut trees. La, la,la’) stressed to a level just below spontaneous immolation. Any way you have already read about that. So let’s go back to the Pink hostel, where a more minor storm was brewing.

As we walked up the steps the lights went out!  The manager had gone home and the staff were fielding complaints from all the guests. Good news though, the water was back on. But all evening the lights came on and then went off.

We spent a night in stifling heat as the power went on and off and we sucked in cool air as the power went on and off. In the small hours, Ping went down to do battle, it transpired that for such eventualities they do have a backup generator. Oh great! So use it. We have. …. It just ran out of diesel.

Next morning after searching the internet we realised that to move hotels may not be the answer as there was no guarantee that similar issues may not arise. We were learning fast!

So instead, Ping decided that the time had come to ‘speak’ to Richard, the manager.

This involved a fair measure of emotional, psychological and indeed physical abuse. She explained, not too patiently, that managing a hotel did actually require some tangible input from the manager. She pointed out that a portion of the money paid by guests to sleep in air conditioned rooms should quite reasonably be put aside for fuel to put in the generator. She actually got her purse out and asked for a taxi so that she could go and buy the diesel with the money that she was going to pay for the room. She gently tapped poor Richard on his upper arm. This gained the approval of the staff group who had now assembled and were encouraging her to carry out more threats. Indeed her threats to speak to his mother was greeted with nods of approval all round.  Anyhow during that day, we were promised that Electricians would be called, plumbers summoned, and fuel purchased.

Despite the promises, we still had one more day of no water until it had been pumped to the top of the building, which could only happen after 5pm. The lights flashed on and off all evening and went off altogether after about 3am which meant that otherwise air conditioned rooms had no other ventilation. Absolutely stifling!

                                               

                                 Swedish friends at the Pink Hostel

Things started to improve after that, water ran all day, the power stayed on and the diesel reassuringly stood by. The relationship between Ping and poor Richard grew into something much less abusive.  I have to say he really is a quite lovely guy who is a bit of a victim of the condition labelled with the cliché ‘This is Africa’ which covers all that I have described and lots more. When we left, Richard seemed genuinely sorry to see us go and I guess we were too.

So there we have it Tonight we leave Ghana by air bound for Johannesburg. There is more to tell of our time in Ghana, but for now we have bags to pack and a plane to catch.

The usual plea. Do please drop us a line we do just love to get emails and any trivial or even dramatic news from home

We love you all!

Cheers

Noel and Ping

noelbow51@gmail.com

pingbow54@gmail.com