Roderick Phillips's Blog, page 17

Burkina Faso, Day 198

Since our tour group is such an experienced and mature bunch of travellers we are always ahead of schedule.  This morning is no exception as we’re on the road and heading for Burkina Faso by 7:45am after a quiet night bush camping.  As far as I can tell no one was pulled from their tent kicking and screaming by either bandits or wild animals last night.  Consequently we’re all feeling rather proud of ourselves; we’re now hardened campers (albeit a bit smelly and in need of a shower!).  

Negotiating the Burkina Faso border is refreshingly easy and thanks to Adonis we don’t even have to leave the bus.  Instead, the Burkina Faso immigration officials come to us.  I could get used to this!  Several things change as we leave Ghana and enter BK.  First the language switched from English to French and we hear phrases like ‘Bonjour’ and ‘Comment ca va?’  The currency has also changed. Instead of the Ghanaian Cedi it is now the West African CFA franc (or Communauté Financière Africaine ["African Financial Community"]), the euro of West Africa.  The CFA is used by all the remaining countries we shall visit on this Dragoman tour (Burkina Faso, Mali, and Senegal).  And amazingly enough my debit card works in the ATM machines.  Unfortunately, I get rather carried away and withdraw CFA400,000 which I belatedly realize is US$800.  I could probably buy Burkina Faso for that amount of money, but I certainly don’t want to be stuck with thousands of virtually worthless CFA francs when I leave West Africa.  I beg Adonis to buy some CFA francs in exchange for euros – and he does.  He’s s such a nice chap and personally I hope he’s having a wild time with Aphrodite.

We stop for lunch somewhere over the border in Burkina Faso.  We think we’ve chosen an isolated spot, but that couldn’t be further from the truth and we’re suddenly surrounded by dozens of curious onlookers that appear literally out of the bush.  We have French speakers aboard the truck and one of them Louise (of Thelma and Louise fame) tries a few phrases, but the people who live in this remote community do not understand. I’m sure these people have seen white folks before, but nothing quite like a Dragoman truck descending upon them.  We do not see hunger in their eyes, merely curiosity.  As usual the camera is a great way to connect and there are soon smiles all around.  As we pack up and leave we give the curious and friendly onlookers all the food we can spare.  They appear appreciative and then disappear back into the bush.

Our destination for the day is the second city of Burkina Faso, Bobo-Dioulasso.  Personally, I cannot think of a more wonderful name for a town.  I would be proud to say I’m from Bobo-Dioulasso.  Could there possibly be a more charismatic name in the whole world?  The only name that comes close also happens to be in Burkina Faso and that is the capital, Ouagadougou.  Clearly the locals put a lot of thought into their place names.

We reach Bobo-Dioulasso by mid-afternoon and Adonis, my hero, upgrades our accommodation from camping in the suburbs to a hotel in the center of town (he’s dipping into the kitty again, but who cares!).  Our room at the hotel L’Entente is rather basic: shower and fan, but no wash basin (at all) and a shared toilet.  Christi and I luxuriate in the shower (which has seen better [read cleaner]) days and then prostrate our glistening bodies beneath the fan in our room.  Sheer bliss.

Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes 

The post Burkina Faso, Day 198 appeared first on Roderick Phillips.

Wa, Ghana, Day 197

Another beautiful sunrise starts the day.  Christi and I would love to stay here longer, but when you join an organized tour you have to make compromises.  Dragoman has a schedule to keep so if we want to remain part of the tour then Christi and I have to get on the truck – preferably now.  ’Stop photographing the sunrise,’ PeeWee yells.  In fact not only are we leaving Mole national park today, but this is probably our last day in Ghana.  Ahead of us is another long drive on bad roads and in brutal heat  to reach the border with Burkina Faso, although we will make a few stops to break up the day.  The first will be at Larabanga, a mere 6 km south of Mole NP, and later Wa (what a great name) for more grocery shopping.

Larabanga is home to the oldest mud mosque (also known as  a Sudanese style mosque) in Ghana, dating to the 15th century.  The mosque is built of whitewashed mud with poles sticking out at odd angles (which artisans stand on to help with routine re-plastering).  The mosque is not especially large, but it is quite exquisite.  We’re not allowed inside, but several dubious-looking characters mill around insisting we need to pay for the privilege of even gazing upon their mosque. The locals get rather animated when we refuse to pay and eventually Adonis makes a donation using funds from the tour kitty.  I’m not sure bribing local hoodlums is actually a suggested use of the kitty, but better to pay than fight!

Poor Christi and Hu-man need to go shopping again in Wa market so there will be bread, tomatoes, and other fresh salad available for lunch.  Once they have secured supplies, Christi and I have a little extra time to explore this town of 100,000 souls.  In our case this means getting lost while trying to find our way to the local mosque, which proves to be less visually appealing than the one in Larabanga.  However, wandering the back streets of Wa and surprising the locals is good fun.  I think the presence of a white face around here is a rare (and perhaps wonderous) thing! Needless to say, the photographic opportunities are endless.  The most intriguing sight is of a goat scampering up the side of a blue BMW to feast on some tree leaves (snap!).  The driver is none-to-pleased when he returns either!

We keep driving but the border never seems to get any closer so Adonis decides we should bush camp.  No one knows whether we choose a safe site to pitch our tents (safe from local hoodlums and local wildlife), but we all pretend this is the most natural thing in the world.  I will say that calls of nature are undertaken with even greater care than usual!

Buddha and Margaret Thatcher (talk about an odd couple!) cook a wonderful vegetable chilli for dinner, although Christi (normally a heat-seeker herself) finds the meal too spicy.  ”What I wouldn’t give for a Ben & Jerry’s or Baskin-Robbin’s ice cream right now”, she moans. 

Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes.

 

The post Wa, Ghana, Day 197 appeared first on Roderick Phillips.

Walking safari, Mole NP, Day 196

After enduring uncomfortable temperatures these last few nights, Christi and I found ourselves in the reverse position in the Mole national park motel.  The air-conditioning was too effective and we couldn’t figure out how to turn if off so we had to hunker down under our sleeping bags to stay warm.  This could only happen to us.  We are quite relieved, therefore to exchange the ice fortress for a walking safari under the blistering African sun.  It’s quite rare to even be allowed to do a walking safari, because you never know what sneaky, hungry critter is going to pop out of the savannah with the idea of nibbling on your flesh.  Our guide, Christopher, is of course armed, but he looks to be carrying a BB gun (air rifle).  From a purely defensive position, wouldn’t you think something semi-automatic that could unload a hail of bullets would be more effective against a charging elephant or a pride of lions?  Not that I am at all suggesting the wildlife should be killed – only if Christi and I happen to be the slowest runners in our group.  As long as we can outrun someone, well then, I’m all for the survival of the fittest.  Having said that our tour group makes so much noise as we stumble along that the wildlife has probably already scarpered.

Amazingly, though, we do spot a spitting cobra heading for the hills at full slither, a Woodland Kingfisher, and the exotic, if tiny, red-throated bee-eater, plus some antelope.  As we make our way back to the Mole motel we cross a boggy hole via a tree trunk.  Christi is a little nervous, but guide Christopher helps her along.  Hu-man has a terrible accident, however, falling in and ruining both of her cameras, as they are swamped with dirty, stagnant water.

The Mole motel, it transpires, is situated on an escarpment overlooking a good swathe of the park, including the local watering hole where elephants have recently gathered for a quick pint. In the searing heat of midday sun, therefore, Christopher takes us on another walking safari and we try rather pathetically to creep up on the elephants unannounced. Fortunately the elephants are unfazed by our presence and actually laugh at the BB Gun held by our guide.  I think a bullet fired from his gun would simply bounce off the thick, tough hide of these majestic beasts.  We actually get remarkably close before a bull flares his ears, a sure sign to back off. Fantastic stuff.

Tonight Christi is cooking together with a rather sanguine and bruised Hu-man.  Christi finds the prospect of cooking for such a large group of people under such primitive conditions to be quite stressful. But in the end their sausage casserole is delicious as is the mango we have for dessert.

Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes.

 

The post Walking safari, Mole NP, Day 196 appeared first on Roderick Phillips.

Mole national park, Ghana, Day 195

The first cook groups finally get to do their shopping and Christi is paired with Hu-man.  They will cook while we are in the remote Mole national park and so need to shop now.  I tag along as they go and buy food for 20 people for breakfast, lunch, and particularly dinner. While I’m out and about Buddha snatches my good seat at the back of the truck (which allows you to stretch out into the aisle).  The etiquette for reserving seats on the Dragoman truck is somewhat arbitrary (there is no official SOP) and ranges from first come, first served to reserving a seat with one’s day pack.  Buddha denies moving my bag, but it didn’t get on the worst seat (around one of the table’s but facing backwards) in the company of Sheldon Cooper and Stan Laurel – or is it Oliver Hardy; I always get them mixed up.  Buddha is demonstrating some annoying passive aggressive behavior.  Fortunately Sheldon cannot get a signal for his phone, so I’m spared his love-struck conversation with Miss Hong Kong.

It is 422 km from Kumasi to the remote Mole national park in northern Ghana.  As we leave the city the scenery changes from the verdant rainforest of southern Ghana to the dry, dusty, hot savannah in the north of the country.  Along the way we see many classic thatched-hut villages and some large termite mounds on the increasingly rutted dusty red track.  And of course it’s very hot so we either put up the window and sweat or roll it down and get covered in sand. We arrive in Mole national park at 5.30 pm hot and dirty.  Theoretically we’ll be camping, but a rumor is flying around the group that the motel (in whose grounds we are staying) has air-conditioned rooms available.  The upgrade is an extra US$27 per night.  Christi sharpens her elbows and disappears into the melee.  The other passengers never stood a chance.  The upgrade is not strictly in our budget, but it’s too good of an opportunity to miss.  And the beds are rather comfortable.  The hotel also has a bar and a swimming pool, not to mention satellite TV, while the campsite attracts warthogs and baboons. Dennis Thatcher and Thelma cook dinner.  They don’t like one another, but the bangers and mash are wonderful.

Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes.

 

The post Mole national park, Ghana, Day 195 appeared first on Roderick Phillips.

Kumasi, Ghana, Day 194

It’s the usual routine this morning: breaking down the tents, breakfast, attending to the bloody bags, and then we leave Lake Bosomtwe for Kumasi, the second city of Ghana. It’s a 2-hour drive to the Presbyterian Guest House in central Kumasi and then we have the rest of the day to explore. Kumasi was, historically, the capital of the Ashanti kingdom.  And the Ashanti people are famous for making Kente cloth.  One of the best places in town to find Kente cloth is the massive open-air Kejetia market.  As usual in Africa, the market is a combination of litter-strewn alleys and open sewers mixed with a vibrant, throbbing mass of humanity all on the move at the same time.  It is chaos personified.  There are fetish sections, high quality Kente weavings as well as the more mundane fish, vegetables, clothing, hardware, and shoe stalls.  It’s all in your face, strange, confusing – yet Georgina (from whom Christi purchases two pieces of Kente cloth for us to use at night rather than our suffocating sleeping bags) says today is a quiet day. God knows what it must be like when the place is truly busy. We’re also feeling rather brave and try lunch at one of the numerous food stalls.  We make sure to avoid the snot this time and end up with a very pleasant paella-type dish called jollof and another of the yummy light soups (with chicken).

Next we wander up to the National Cultural Centre, which is adjacent to the zoo.  And in the trees over-hanging the zoo complex are hundreds of fruit bats, while at street-level an enterprising lady is selling roast bat in a spicy relish.  Naturally we have to taste it.  Of course if you ask sane people about bats one of the chief concerns is the fact they carry the rabies virus.  Did we worry? No.  Are we stupid? Perhaps.  FYI roasted fruit bat (and don’t you think he resembles ET?) tastes rather good (like game rather than chicken).  We stick to nibbling the flesh, though, because the poor little chap was cooked with his intestines in situ.

Now it may just be the heat, but I am feeling very thirsty and becoming a little irritable…Oh no…

Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes.

The post Kumasi, Ghana, Day 194 appeared first on Roderick Phillips.

Lake Bosomtwe, Ghana, Day 193

Last night at Brenu Beach was quite magical.  We had the tent flaps rolled back and palm trees framed the mighty crashing waves on the long sandy beach.  Up above the sky was clear and the stars shone brightly.  Dawn brought another beautiful sunrise and Christi is feeling much better.  So far so good.  Today is a long driving day, almost due north from the coast to Lake Bosomtwe, near the second city of Ghana, Kumasi.  The drive will give everyone an opportunity to talk and exchange life stories.  It’s too early for problems, but not for identifying where those problems might arise in the future! Today is also the first official cook group so we stop in New Elmina market for supplies. While the cook group shops, Christi and I poke around and photograph market life.

Life aboard the truck is easy as all you have to do is stare out the window and enjoy the scenery.  There is no toilet aboard the bus, though, so when you want to pee you have to speak up.  We stop for lunch at any random spot we choose and tables and chairs are quickly unloaded, while others prepare lunch (salad and sandwiches).  There is also no air-conditioning so all the windows are open, unless the road is dirt and then the windows have to be closed and we basically sweat.  Also if the sun is beating down on your side of the truck then you get doubly uncomfortable.  Ah life on the road!

So a quick word about my tour companions, whose names I have changed so they won’t sue me!

Aphrodite – an occupational therapist from Bristol.  Just completed Cape Town to Cairo trip with Dragoman then immediately flew to Cameroon to travel through West Africa.  Aphrodite may be having a fling with one of the Dragoman crew, Adonis.

Adonis’ co-driver is Peewee Herman.  

Laurel and Hardy – both married, both retired and both living in France; and both English.

Margaret and Dennis Thatcher – Dennis is actually the eccentric scientist type, recently retired.  Margaret is his domineering wife.  They are both avid independent travelers and country collectors.  They already find life aboard the Dragoman truck rather restrictive (ones to watch, me thinks)

Sheldon Cooper (of Big Bang Theory fame – come on keep up!) – quirky, brilliant Dutch guy.  Also a country collector.  In love with a Hong Kong girl and calls her constantly.  And I mean constantly.

Thelma and Louise – Australian teachers; older women who are getting out there, exploring the world, and looking for trouble.  Thank goodness we’re nowhere near the Grand Canyon! 

Hu-man – Quiet girl from Hong Kong; a banker.  Maybe on the run after a financial scandal.

Agatha Christie – retired teacher from London who has completed many grueling Dragoman trips.  Preeminent scandal detective.

Joan Rivers: bawdy, boisterous Brit with a heart of gold.  Another like Christi and I who is on sabbatical from the real world. Traveled extensively with Dragoman.

Doogie Howser - retired Operating Room head nurse from New Zealand; flinty personality.  Also recently completed the Dragoman Cape Town to Cairo trip, then flew to Cameroon to join the tour of West Africa.

(Note the complete Dragoman tour of West Africa comprises three 5-week sections.  The first being between Cameroon, Nigeria, Togo, Benin, and Ghana.  This second leg will go through Ghana, Burkina Faso, Mali, and Senegal. The third leg through Mauritania and Morocco was unfortunately cancelled).

Buddha – a busman’s holiday for this guy as he is a professional tour guide focusing on Eastern Europe.

Sinead O’Connor – Irish accountant; surprisingly serious 

John Malkovich - A freelance accountant from London looking for work in West Africa.  Obviously a cover for some nefarious activities. Another to watch.

The invisible man – I’m sure he was on the trip when we started.

The grounds of the Lake Point Guest House roll pleasantly down to Lake Bosomtwe.  And it is here by the water’s edge that we pitch our tents.  Christi is much relieved that although it is very hot still, it is now a dry heat.  We have escaped the humidity of the coast.  As the evening winds down I notice a perfectly preened Aphrodite heading for the tent of Adonis…

Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes.

The post Lake Bosomtwe, Ghana, Day 193 appeared first on Roderick Phillips.

Brenu Beach, Ghana, Day 192

The Dragoman drivers give us a day off today.  And you couldn’t wish for a more exotic and relaxing location than Brenu Beach. Camping was much more bearable last night thanks to the cooling ocean breeze, while the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore acted like a lullaby.  Not surprisingly, therefore, Christi and I slept wonderfully well and woke around dawn refreshed and eager to enjoy a lazy day editing photos, catching up with our journals, and reading (the truck maintains a library of sorts and Christi was eager to sample the collection).  Sunrises and sunsets at Brenu Beach are simply superb – among the best we’ve experienced during our Year of Wonder.

In the afternoon we walk along the beach to Brenu village.  Aside from the ubiquitous trash, the village is very picturesque.  It’s dominated by a church, while on the beach itself there are endless fishing boats (and a new one being carved) and children of course.  Digital cameras are great because the kids are eager to pose and even more excited to see images of themselves.  The children are super friendly.  They insist on holding our hands as we walk along the beach.  They laugh and smile and I think they are as curious about us as we are about them.  I appreciate this is only a snapshot, but these children (who have so little) seem a lot happier than children growing up in Western culture (who have so much more).  

One word of caution regarding the local kids: they come with a plethora of bugs that are completely alien to wimpy Western travelers (including Christi and I), so once you have finished playing with the locals it is crucial to wash your hands and failing that rinse them in a bacterial sanitizer.  From a health perspective, and especially in Africa, hand sanitizer is worth its weight in gold.  You have been warned.  Don’t leave home without it!  Unfortunately Christi forgot this number one rule of travel hygiene and ended the day not watching another beautiful sunset but stuck in the bathroom vomiting. Go Christi!  

Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes.

The post Brenu Beach, Ghana, Day 192 appeared first on Roderick Phillips.

Kakum National Park, Ghana, Day 191

Our first night under canvas is spent in Kakum national park and it is very hot and uncomfortable.  It is also very noisy as tree dassies and cicadas serenade back and forth. I go to bed, somewhat optimistically, in thermal PJs and crawl into a three-season sleeping bag. Sod’s law that West Africa is the fourth season – the too hot to need a damn sleeping bag season! Our day even begins an hour earlier than everyone else as I mistakenly set the alarm for 4:45 am, by which time I’m lying on my sleeping bag in my birthday suit (conservative Christi refused to strip off in case you’re wondering).  We have a powerful yearning for air-conditioning! 

Kakum national park is 145 square miles of tropical rainforest.  It is famous for its jungle canopy walk, which of course is best done as the dawn creeps over the forest because first it’s not hot yet (a relative term) and second the wildlife will be taking advantgae of the conditions to feed, frolick and enjoy themselves before the serious business of surving another day in Africa begins. The canopy walk involves negotiating a series of rickety-looking, highly mobile bridges.  Think Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.  The question I ask is who has the right of way if some lumbering tree dweller prefers the man-made thoroughfare over swinging through the jungle as nature intended? We never need to answer that question, though, because the noise created by 18 noisy tourists scares away all the wildlife, including the elusive West African elephant, giant bongo antelopes, and bush babies (small nocturnal primates).  At dawn the jungle is literally steaming, which is playing havoc with my camera again (Remember the Esteros del Ibera in Argentina?).

Back at the truck we eat a quick breakfast, pack up the tents, store the damn bags (I’m hating this part already) and then it’s back to the coast to visit another slave castle, which is known as either St. George’s or Elmina castle.  During the drive we see a quite amazing series of shops in what can only be described as the African religious aesthetic.  They include the Blood of Jesus bicycle shop, the Glory to God barbers, the Holy Ghost entertainment center, and the Kingdom of Heaven book store.  Also there are endless posters celebrating the visit of President Obama in July 2009.

Elmina castle was originally build by the Portuguese in 1482 and is the oldest European building in sub-Saharan Africa. Christopher Columbus visited this castle in the same year it was built – some 10 years before discovering the New World.  Obviously at this point slaves were only used in Europe.  The castle was originally built to house gold, ivory, and spices, but these same storerooms became the holding cells for 600 men and 400 women.  Kofi, our guide gives an excellent account of the awful life lead by these slaves during this time.  It is believed that over a 20-year period as many as 15 million West Africans became embroiled in the slave trade.  Outside the castle is the dynamic, edgy, dirty, poverty-stricken fishing port of Elmina. We explore a little, but it does not feel entirely safe – my camera is an unwelcome intruder – although we do see a new wooden fishing boat being build by hand.

Our busy day is not yet over as we drive a little further up the cost to the palm-fringed, idyllic Brenu beach.  It’s Playa el Agua without the crowds.  Christi and I enjoy a refreshing dip in the warm waters of the Atlantic, our tent pitched a mere 30 feet from the crashing waves among the palm trees. Now this is heavenly.

Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes.

The post Kakum National Park, Ghana, Day 191 appeared first on Roderick Phillips.

Mole national park, Ghana, Day 191

The first cook groups finally get to do their shopping and Christi is paired with Hu-man.  They will cook while we are in the remote Mole national park and so need to shop now.  I tag along as they go and buy food for 20 people for breakfast, lunch, and particularly dinner. While I’m out and about Buddha snatches my good seat at the back of the truck (which allows you to stretch out into the aisle).  The etiquette for reserving seats on the Dragoman truck is somewhat arbitrary (there is no official SOP) and ranges from first come, first served to reserving a seat with one’s day pack.  Buddha denies moving my bag, but it didn’t get on the worst seat (around one of the table’s but facing backwards) in the company of Sheldon Cooper and Stan Laurel – or is it Oliver Hardy; I always get them mixed up.  Buddha is demonstrating some annoying passive aggressive behavior.  Fortunately Sheldon cannot get a signal for his phone, so I’m spared his love-struck conversation with Miss Hong Kong.

It is 422 km from Kumasi to the remote Mole national park in northern Ghana.  As we leave the city the scenery changes from the verdant rainforest of southern Ghana to the dry, dusty, hot savannah in the north of the country.  Along the way we see many classic thatched-hut villages and some large termite mounds on the increasingly rutted dusty red track.  And of course it’s very hot so we either put up the window and sweat or roll it down and get covered in sand. We arrive in Mole national park at 5.30 pm hot and dirty.  Theoretically we’ll be camping, but a rumor is flying around the group that the motel (in whose grounds we are staying) has air-conditioned rooms available.  The upgrade is an extra US$27 per night.  Christi sharpens her elbows and disappears into the melee.  The other passengers never stood a chance.  The upgrade is not strictly in our budget, but it’s too good of an opportunity to miss.  And the beds are rather comfortable.  The hotel also has a bar and a swimming pool, not to mention satellite TV, while the campsite attracts warthogs and baboons. Dennis Thatcher and Thelma cook dinner.  They don’t like one another, but the bangers and mash are wonderful.

Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes.

 

The post Mole national park, Ghana, Day 191 appeared first on Roderick Phillips.

Cape Coast Castle, Ghana, Day 190

Christi and I have just enjoyed our last night in a hotel bed for 5 weeks (upgrades are possible, but not on our budget!).  Unfortunately, neither of us slept well as we are still  bedeviled by jet lag.  My first job on the Dragoman trip is to help gerrymander 18 pieces of luggage into the rear storage locker.  And I will continue to do so with the help of two other passengers twice a day for next 35 days.  What a thrill. Our first Dragoman adventure lies 3 hours to the west of Accra at Cape Coast Castle.  A European settlement has existed on this site since 1653, although the current incarnation was built by the British in the 18th century. Cape Coast Castle is one of about 30 slave forts built on the Gold Coast of Africa.  Numerous colonial powers claimed ownership over the Gold Coast over the years, the last of which were the British (which probably explains why Ghanaians all speak English while the lingua franca of West Africa is usually French).  Indeed, it was only in 1957 that Britain granted the Gold Coast its independence, creating present day Ghana. The castle actually sits in a beautiful location overlooking the azure waters of the Atlantic.  On the surrounding beach eager fishermen go about their daily business – there’s a frisson of energy and excitement about the place.  

Historically, the Gold Coast was exploited for its abundance of gold, ivory, timber, and spices.  But when the colonial powers of Spain and Portugal exhausted the supply of indigenous labor to mine silver (Potosi) and gold (Ouro Preto) in the New World, African slaves were seen as an ideal substitute and there was an almost inexhaustible supply of them. The fact that Cape Coast Castle is such an imposing and heavily armed fortification offers a stark reminder that exploiting Africa and defending this wealth-creating environment from the other colonial powers was big business.  

As we tour the castle, our guide tells us that the slave cells were originally storage rooms designed to hold ivory, gold, spices, etc. However when the slave trade took off these same storage rooms, which had no beds, no toilets, and very little light were used as holding cells for slaves awaiting transportation to the New World.  One thousand men were forced into 5 cramped holding cells and if you defecated you had to sit in it as there was nowhere else to go.  With little food and poor sanitary conditions it’s not surprising that only half the prisoners survived until the slave ships came to transport them to the Americas, the so-called Middle Passage.  At the same time 300 women were kept in 2 separate holding cells.  These girls were routinely raped by their guards, while girls that became pregnant on the long sea voyages were often tossed overboard and left to drown. The slaves left Cape Coast Castle via the Door of No Return.  This was the last view the slaves would ever have of their homeland.

When Christi and I embarked upon our Year of Wonder, we did not consciously decide to follow the slave trail, but having experienced the atrocious exploitation of these West Africans, one cannot help but feel empathy for the slaves and shame for the actions of our ancestors. To know that this beautiful location housed such pain and suffering is a sobering and disconcerting feeling.

One of the disadvantages to any organized tour is the enforced schedule and we have to leave before we can finish exploring the nearby fishing village.  Perhaps today that’s not such a bad thing.  We head inland and will spend our first night under the stars in Kakum National Park.  Unloading the damn bags off the truck is my first chore and then Christi and I put up our tent, which takes a lot longer to do than to to write!

Blog post by Roderick Phillipa, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of broken hearts and broken test tubes

The post Cape Coast Castle, Ghana, Day 190 appeared first on Roderick Phillips.