Day 2 in Ghana

Today was long. But it took me out of my panic phase.

I didn't have the mental capacity this morning to brave venturing the streets for breakfast. I decided to give the hostel menu a shot. Eggs on toast will hopefully recalibrate my internal system a little bit. I'm still stuck my drawn out panic phase, so just trying to calm down and be present as I sit on the front porch at the driveways edge, staring at the dusty side-road and shack on front of me.

I have heard cats can sense emotions, and are extra affectionate when they sense distress. My first friend was a little patchy cat who joined me for eggs and nescafe. The second friend, Emmanual had just arrived at the hostel as I was eating. A Ghanian who had come from Kumasi on a business trip. I just needed to talk to distract my brain, so I sparked a conversation, I told him I was going to the Ivorian embassy today to apply for a visa, as online ones were not permitted for land border crossing like I was planning to do when I leave Ghana. Emmanuel offered to drive me and seriously wouldn't take no for an answer. His soft presence alleviated any gut worries. Through all my on-arrival anxiety I must say that at least I had a feeling deep down of safety, the country had an underlying sense of friendliness straight off the bat.

The visa office was only 5 minutes away, I heard online they're strict on what you wear, so I put on a long sleeve top.

Typical French…
(Cote d'Ivoire is a Francophone country)
Ignored me as I stood at the desk, laughed when he saw me wearing shorts and told me I was not going to get a visa whilst wearing these inappropriate clothes. Back to the hostel then I suppose…

It gave me a good opportunity to check out the street life. My mind was in a better place this morning since my breakfast interactions. I followed google maps along the streets away from the main road for the 20 minute walk back to my hostel 'Africa Vibrations'. There was no breeze to feel, trees to shade or birds to listen too, only the sounds of industrial work, car fumes and the faint hum of the city, but it was a relaxed walk. This is probably my first instance of finding leisure in seemingly unpleasant situations.

I changed into some pants and left straight away, with a detour to the corner shop that I've learned I can buy water from. I got one step further this time at the office. The officer took my phone and gave me a number and sent me through to the waiting hall where I brushed shoulders with another traveler (who at the time I did not realize would be a very important part to my story). A dreadlocked, hippie looking man who said hi and asked where I was from, that was it, and he was off. My first instinct was to make a friend out of him, but I figured if this is only my first day there will be plenty more opportunities to meet traveler friends.

The Ivorian at the counter was ruder than the one at the main entrance. When he finally felt like tending to me, he listed all the documents that was required of me to print and bring back, and told me where to find the print shop down the road. After a trip back to the hostel to gather all the files, then a stop at the print shop (shack with a laptop and printer), I figured third time would be a charm. A long charm but a charm nonetheless, I'd finally submitted my application. On my way out, I passed the same traveler in the street, he was riding a push-bike. He seemed exited to see me again and asked if I wanted to join him for lunch at his favourite 'restaurant' just outside the office. He told me the lady there "makes the most delicious food in Ghana". Here comes my first taste of authentic Ghanian food!

We arrived at a shack, where behind a little bench sat a powerful yet soft-natured looking Ghanian lady who was very exited to see this traveler (my new friend) again. She pulled out 2 plastic stools for us just behind gas cooker, no table needed I guess. Torin was his name, I told Torin that never would I ever look at such a place and assume it’s a restaurant that I can buy food from, where's the customer seating… or the customers? Where's the till and such? But alas, now I know what to look out for, less of a 'restaurant' and more of a street-kitchen.

The dish we ate did not really have a name, it was just an assortment of Ghanian things, some fried rice, sausage, boiled egg, potato (which Torin was super exited for, he told her the potato was his favourite), and her own pepper-sauce. Served in plastic bowls with plastic forks for the white men (or Obroni in their language). This is where I learned about Torin, he was a South-African, who had ridden here on a push bike from his home, all the way across Africa, and his plan was to finish in Morocco… Absolutely astounding. I told him my story about my volunteering being cancelled and how I was feeling lost, he told me to trust the universe, it'll all be figured out. I asked him if it was lonely on the road, and if he enjoyed riding with other people, hinting at a certain something (subtle foreshadowing). He said of course! The more the merrier. He's setting off for Cape Coast in 3 days, so I asked him:

"How would you feel if maybe I joined you for a bit?"

He was stoked with the idea, and said he'd love to, I just had to make sure myself that my head was on straight before actually committing to this wild and spontaneous proposal. He told me he was meeting a fellow bike-packer in the area this evening for drinks and I should think about it and we can talk about it more over a few drinks. I think my novice travel skills were obvious to him, so he offered to meet at my hostel later and we'd go from there. Off I went, happy with my new friend, exited for a potential opportunity on the horizon. I mean, what else was I going to do in Ghana alone anyway right?

After filling in the midday hours with an hour or 2 of 'The Good Doctor', Torin showed up on his bike. We had a beer on the porch before setting off. It was 4 but the sun was still harsh at this hour on our 40 minute walk to the other main road. His travel status was apparently obvious too to the locals, as everyone would approach him, want to talk and want to be his friend on our way. It was at the main road he showed me how to use the Tro Tro system.

My fun introduction to Ghanian transport, just like a public bus except it’s a beaten up old dark blue van with a sign in the front window. They leave the side door open and have a man hanging out the window yelling the location in which they're heading. After flagging one down, we paid the man 3 cedis and sat at the back, crammed with all the other Ghanaians on the hot mini-bus.

The rastaman-vibes 'beach bar' he described once again did not look like what I was expecting such a place to look like. It was more of a shack in the dirt beside a main road, on top of the soft cliff face. Torin woke the man inside the shack up as he was having an afternoon nap, he turned on the bbq cooker and grabbed a bench for us. Torin and the man lifted the bench down a little dirt track to some old timber-framed booths on the cliff-face where we parked ourselves. We passed 2 locals smoking weed who were very friendly, once again wanting to know everything about Torin.

Inga joined shortly after, she was quite offended when I told her I have no idea where Estonia is (her home country). She had a real epic Specialized branded cross-country touring bike, she'd been riding from Morocco in the other directions and planned to spend 3 months riding through Ghana, volunteering where she can. She gave me motivation to join Torin, and shared a few volunteer organisations for me to check out. A few adorable kittens joined the conversation as we ate some kebabs and drank a few beers over the cliff face, watching the brown ocean water turn black as the sun set.

It was time to go, this was the first and last time I saw Inga though we stayed in contact. Torin helped me get back to the hostel. I was absolutely shattered from today, and the thought of being in his shoes, having to ride an hour back to his place sounded horrible to me in my tired, half drunk state. He departed, and I went straight to bed, exited for our up-coming outing to the bike shops.

Blog number two, this starts to set the scene to my epic West African adventure. Though it was seemingly off to a frantic start, I soon found myself thriving, eventually riding a push bike around the country! Stay tuned as I release weekly blogs, detailing my 4 month jouney up the West African coast. The coolest stories and insider information that you won't find on any trip-advisor page.
Leave a comment if you read this so I know my efforts aren't completely wasted, and feel free to ask any questions about Ghana, travel, or anything really.

Thanks and seeya next week!