Email Problems

I've been to a coupe of internet cafes in Cotonou, but so far, I haven't one with computers with enogh power to run my email client (webmail.mailtrust.com). So I may be incommicado for a few days. Hopefully I'll find something somewhere. In Lome I was able to read but not respond. Here in Cotonou, I can't even read. So if you nare sending me email and not getting a response, that's why.

Flight Itinerary

Here is my flight itinerary for my trips to get back to America, via Accra. I'm flying Virgin Nigeria on the intra-African legs on the 12th and KLM on the 15th/16th.

Douala, Cameroon (DLA) to Lagos, Nigeria (LOS) VK822 on December 12

Lagos, Nigeria (LOS) to Accra, Ghana (ACC) VK 805 on December 12



Accra, Ghana (ACC) to Amsterdam (AMS) KL590 on December 15

Amsterdam (AMS) to Detroit (DTW) KL6039 on December 16

Detroit (DTW) to Chicago O'Hare (ORD) KL6539 arriving at 2:04 PM December 16



The KL is probably changed to NW as the flights are operated by Northwest Airlines.

Time Zone Change

Going from Togo to Benin, one doesn't change languages or currency, but one does change their time.

On my computer it was easy. I just chose the West Central Africa timezone.

On my watch it was easy--just bump the hour up one.

My iPod is a different story. I have tried to change the timezone on it, but haven't been able to do so since Rabat. I looked for Cotonou, in the iPod list, but it wasn't there so I used Lagos. Of course, it didn't take. I can't get it off Rabat. I don't know why. I'm just pissed off that Apple put out a product with so many bugs that get so much good press.

Lomé, Togo To Cotonou, Benin

Thursday I woke up early. It rained all night--hard, so I never really slept well anyway. I went to the internet café and checked my email. Elena said she would renew her insurance. Whew! I was so worried.

Nothing changed on fivethirtyeight.com. McCain is optimistic and I think it's good because an optimistic McCain will scare the Obama youth vote to actually go to the polls rather than think he's got it in the bag and stay home. The news cycle seemed to be dominated by the Obama infomercial and calls on Ted Stevens to resign. He's up for reelection anyway, so he should just lose rather than resign. Larry Craig served despite calls for him to resign.

Being close to the Festival des Glaces, I went and had a chausson aux pommes and a coffee in air-conditioned bliss.

Well, that done, I headed back to the Hôtel du Boulevard and checked out. Hopefully for good this time. I wanted a car taxi to take me to the Emperor Tours office but I let a moto-taxi talk me into taking me for CFA 150 (US$0.30). We were making good time. I wanted to slow down especially when we found ourselves right behind a sexy white woman on a moto-taxi in shorts and a haltertop with really nice hair, shoulders and legs. But my idiot driver passed her and left her and her driver in our dust. Asshole!

We got there and I went in and waited. The bus was supposed to come at 10am. It came at 1pm. Once it arrived, it took a while to restart because there was an extremely unhappy customer who was arguing with everyone. I didn't know what she was saying except it was something about CFA 5000 and children. She actually had really sexy glasses so I was inclined to take her side on whatever the issue was. Eventually we got underway, the van 100% full. I sat next to a woman who was waiting since 10am as well. She had a really sexy haircut.

The road in Togo is like the Oregon coast. Tacky resorts occupying every inch of beach. And the road wasn't all that great and the traffic was pretty heavy. After about an hour, we reached Togolese immigration. I got out and went to get my exit stamp. Nothing recorded. Just a stamp. Then I wasn't sure what to do. I waited with the sexy haircut girl for a while until our van went through the gate. She went to the van and I went through a gate where I saw a guy in front of me give coins to a policeman. I just showed him my American passport and said nothing that might make him think he could ask for money in French, and he let me through. I walked down to Beninese immigration and got there at the same time as the sexy haircut girl. I gave him my US passport and she gave him her Democratic Republic of Congo passport. The policeman said to sit down and we both sat down together next to each other. He asked if we were together. We both said no, but I wanted to say "dans mes rêves" and high five the officer. But I refrained. He sent her to another officer while he took care of me. In Benin, the officers fill out the forms and there are 2 identical forms with a sheet of blue carbon paper between them all pinned together with four sewing pins. He grabbed a set of 2 forms with the carbon paper pinned with four sewing pins and started filling in all the information. He asked me which hotel I planned to stay in in Cotonou (I had to get out my Lonely Planet and showed him the Hôtel le Crillon), where I came from (Lomé), my occupation (engineer), and he had me write my US address on a scrap paper whereupon he copied it onto the duplicate forms. These were 3 policemen at a sort of outdoor table on a porch and they were all joking with each other and having a good time while they filled out their forms. I was starting to think my "dans mes rêves" joke would have gone over pretty well with these guys.

The guy looked through my passport and asked if I had a visa. I showed my Visa Touristique Entente to him. Then he looked at some more pages and said my visa was expired. Expired? I just got it last week. He looked again. Oh wait--nope it's not expired.

Finally, I got my entry stamp. Then back to the bus. The road in Benin is a stark contrast to Togo. Gone are the tacky seaside resorts. Just locals living on the ocean in grass huts. That'll probably change someday. The road seemed a bit better, too. At about 4ish we arrived at the Stade de l'Amitie. I didn't know where it was on my map. I went out to the main road to try to find a taxi, but didn't see any. So I went back to the Emperor Tours office and asked them where I could pick up a taxi. They pretty much said that I was stuck taking a moto-taxi about 3km into the downtown. They helped me flag down a moto-taxi. They tried to get the guy down to CFA 500 (US$1) but he insisted on CFA 700 (US$1.40). The Empire Tours people weren't happy, but I wasn't going to quibble over 40 cents. We got my luggage on the moto-taxi and I got on the back and we left. It was the scariest moto-taxi ride yet. This guy accelerates fast and he's aggressive. Nice in a car, but scary as hell on the back of a motorcycle. About halfway there, he stopped and asked a bunch of other moto-taxi drivers where the Hôtel le Crillon was. About 5 men, all in the characteristic yellow shirt with a number on the back, started explaining where it was to him. Then he knew we took off again weaving through moving traffic, cutting people off, hitting speed bumps, and scaring me to death. But we made it. The directions he got were good.

I hopped off and gave him CFA 1000 (US$2) and told him to keep the change. Then he got greedy. He said that since he took me straight to the hotel instead of the cathedral, that I had to pay another CFA 500. I argued for a while, but it was easier to give it to him. Asshole. I went in and the Crillon has rooms. Yay! The moto-taxi guy followed me in. He said something to the desk clerk in their native language and just waited there. The desk clerk led me up a couple of floors and showed me the room. A nice room. And only CFA 8000 (US$16).

Then I started getting a hint what the moto-taxi driver said. The clerk asked me 3 things. Had I paid him yet, how much, and how did I know about the Hôtel le Crillon. I said I had paid him, that we had originally negotiated 700 to the cathedral but since he took me straight here, he upped it to 1500. Then I showed him the Lonely Planet. The guy went down while I checked out the room a bit more and then I went down. The guy was behind the desk filling in the police fiche and the moto-taxi driver was still there.

The clerk asked me my occuption and took my money for the day. Then after a while he gave me my passport back and I bought a Coke from him. Then the driver and the clerk got into a brief argument in their native language. I calmly watched while sipping my Coke. It was clear to me that the moto-taxi guy had told the clerk that he brought me to the Hôtel le Crillon and wanted a small commission. The clerk was having none of it and after the argument went back to his work. The moto-taxi driver lingered a ten or fifteen more seconds and then finally slinked out.

I went out to look for le Petit Four which is supposed to be close. But that's when I discovered a bit a snag in my Cotonou plans. The main boulevard downtown, Steinmetz, is now a big construction site. They are totally redoing the road and it's all blocked off. So I wandered around on the west side of Steinmetz. There are a lot of supermarkets here. And by supermarket, I mean convenience store. I went to a neighboring hotel restaurant and had a steak with fries. They only had these little mini Eku beers that cost a whopping CFA 1200 (US$2.40). But they turned CNN on for me as I was the only customer. After that I went to a supermarket where I got a can of Pringles (not Cracks) and 2 500ml Heinekens for CFA 850 each (US$1.70 each).

I tried to turn on the TV, but it wasn't plugged in. And there is no outlet anywhere near the TV. So, no TV for me. It was only antenna TV anyway. So I just typed up my blogs and went to sleep.

Thursday, October 30, 2008 22:30 Benin local time

Lomé To Cotonou: NOT!

I had reservations with Emperor Tours for a CFA 6000 (US$12) bus to Cotonou, Benin for the 10am minibus on Wednesday. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, but close enough. I wanted a bush taxi that leaves in the morning because the Lonely Planet says Cotonou starts getting dangerous in the late afternoon--at least that's when you shouldn't be walking around. It's supposed to be about a 3 hour trip, so that would put me in about 1pm. Plenty of time to make it safely to a hotel and do a little exploring before the 5pm knives comes out.

But this day was not to be one of those days that goes according to plan.

I loaded myself up with all my gear and started the long walk to the Emperor Tours office close to where the Circular Boulevard hits the beach. About halfway there there is my usual internet cafe which is the best one I found in Lomé but whose computers aren't able to let me use my fly-by-night email client (webmail.mailtrust.com). About half the internet cafés let me use it fully, one quarter let me receive but not send, and one quarter puke even on the receiving part. My intention was to just check fivethirtyeight.com for my latest reality check. But I decided to check my email as well. I only had a few minutes but maybe there would something interesting.

Oh boy! A problem. Elena had asked me about a week ago if I could renew her insurance on my secure laptop so she wouldn't have to enter information into a cybercafé computer. I still had a few days in Accra and the Busy Internet cafe has a Laptop Alley where you can connect your laptop and be as secure as you want to be. I agreed. But that was with 3 days left in Accra. Now I was already 3 days in Lomé and Lomé ain't Accra. It's like comparing Kelowna with Victoria. I had no way of sending email. I had to write on Elena's facebook wall, but I wouldn't know if she would look at her facebook so I had to ask people to send her an email to look at her facebook. Yikes. The problem is that her insurance would expire in 2 days and the email warning her of the impending expiration said she had to renew before it expires.

I was all flustered. I left my sunglasses there by accident and headed to the bus station. I got there and put down my stuff. I asked if they knew when the bus would come. Actually not until about 10:30. Whew! I was sweating like a pig and about 3 blocks away is a place called Festival de Glaces which is AC'ed to the max inside. I had time to get a pastry and a coffee and let their AC suck all that heat out of me. And I had extra sweat because I was worried about Elena's insurance. I know that she isn't in internet connectivity heaven either and I hoped she wasn't counting on me to be able to be able to help her. I cooled off a bit and went back to the Emperor tours office. There the woman told me that there are 2 buses--a big bus and a little bus. While the little bus is CFA 6000 (US$12), the big bus is CFA 16000 (US$32) and only the big bus was coming today. Oh my. CFA 16000 normally gets you all the way across an African country. But the trip to Cotonou is like a 3 hour trip. I took it in and sat down. Did I misunderstand? Maybe she meant CFA 1600 (US$3.20). I asked. Nope. She added that you get food. Food? For CFA 16000 I better get a Pastis as an apertif, a shrimp cocktail as an entrée, a steak as a plat--with a glass of French red wine, and a dessert like Crème Brulée with espresso. I asked if the CFA 6000 bus would leave the next day. She said it would. I said that the CFA 16000 was way to cher and I'd be back tomorrow.

So I walked back to the Hôtel du Boulevard. I got back and had a little trouble explaining that I had actually checked out already, but that I wanted to cancel the checkout and extend my stay one more day. I was by now sweating like Niagara Falls. I got out a handkerchief and wiped off the drops of sweat that were falling on their desk. I got my key back and went back up. They hadn't cleaned it yet so it looked like before. I put my soaking shirt on the underpowered fan and tried to dry it. Not to much avail. Then I went down. The girl who works there teased me a little bit because my passport picture (235 lbs.) looks so different from the current me (150 lbs.). That's a kind of teasing I can take. :-) An sustained 85 lb. weight loss is something to be proud of. I went out.

My goal: find a better internet cafe with better computers to see if I could help Elena. I tried one. It was actually one of the worst cafe clients ever. You can't even minimize windows without lots of rigmarole to get them back--which wouldn't be so bad with Firefox tabbed browsing but sucks monkey balls with Internet Explorer's one page per Window. The next cafe was similar to the one I usually go to but worse. It was obvious that Elena was going to have to renew her insurance on her own.

Finally I gave up. I stopped at a place right by my hotel called Nopegali Boulevard or Nopegali V.I.P. I'm not sure if they are the same. I sat a long time before a firl came to take my order. Then I sat a long time before deciding to give up and left without ever receiving my water and beer. And I wanted a beer to calm my nerves because I didn't know if Elena would get to a computer in time to renew her insurance. I was pretty sure I told her I could help if I was still in Accra, but that was a week ago.

I went back down the street to Brochettes sur la Capital and got 4 brochettes and a beer which I knew to be ice cold--and it was. I had another.

I walked by a book store and got an old l'Express and Paulo Coelho's Le Démon et Mademoiselle Prym. The Nigerian guy from the day before was there. We chatted briefly.

Then I headed to the Bena Grille which is a German restaurant attached to the Marox supermarket (actually a bit less than a Seven-Eleven except with a butcher). The menu of the Beni was in German first, then French, then English. The waitress spoke some English and asked if I was American or German. I wonder if my accent doesn't identify me as American. When I hear a German speak English, I know he or she is German. Same with French. But people in Africa often don't recognize my accent as American or they pretend not to. I got a veal in sauce. When it came it looked like the meal I had at the Come Inn in Gambia. But this meat didn't have the consistency of shredded tires. It was tender. But it made me think back to that night of projectile vomiting after the Come Inn beef stroganoff.

I had plans for that night in The Gambia. I wasn't just disappointed that I lost a night to projectile vomiting. I was disappointed that I lost a golden opportunity. I had AC for the first time in a long time, and more than that, I had a pillow similar to an American pillow. American pillows differ from African pillows. The main difference is that an American pillow is basically the size and shape of a human torso. You can cuddle with an American pillow. You can hold the pillow as you would hold a girl who you like. You can close your eyes and turn the pillow into her. You can squeeze her and feel her. And lose yourself in her. The Carlton Hotel in Banjul is one of the only places in Africa that has pillows that fit that use. And my 3 bouts of projectile vomiting cost me that opportunity--an opportunity not had since then.

That ended the night. I walked home rather uneventfully except for seeing a woman carrying a 4' diameter tray on her head loaded with stuff. Two feet in diameter is nothing. Three feet in diameter is a little adventurous. But a four foot diameter tray balanced on a woman's head is just spectacular.

Thursday, October 30, 2008 21:37 Benin local time

Going to Benin: Critical Message For Elena

I'm about to head to Benin. Anyone seeing this before October 31 who knows Elena, please contact her and warn her hat she has to renew her insurance before October 31. She tried to send me coded number, but my bus leave in less than an hour and I can't do it. I also can't send emails from this cafe because my email client pukes on their machine. She needs to renew before it expires qnd she needs to use the internet cafe and throw caution to the wind with regard to her credit card number.

Please help!

Two More Days In Lomé

On Monday evening, I went out to the Case du Café, Route des Vins. I had 2 glasses of wine--a Bordeaux and a Brouilly--and a wedge of Roquefort cheese with little pieces of bread. I just sat there writing and eventually reading. When I arrived I was the only one there, but then a few other people but they all seem to know each other. So I guess Monday night is when regulars come in. There were about 4 women working there though. I bit overkill for the number of customers. I got good service though.

After that, I went down to a hotel at the west end of the semi-circular Boulevard. They serve pizza. I had a nice pizza. There were a few other large tables of white people--all speaking French. I left at about 11. I don't like being out this late, but I figured it was pretty safe. There was a stretch near the railroad tracks that was pretty dark. I kept alert and was prepared to run if I had to. A few people just sitting around asked me "ça va?" as I was walking, but I answered them without slowing down. I don't want to stop. There are muggings in Lomé and I don't know what the muggers' tricks are. I made it home safely feeling relieved.

The next day, Tuesday, I first went to the internet café. I spent about 2 hours browsing, making sure McCain wasn't getting good news cycles. Let's see: Ted Stevens guilty on all counts and 2 white supremacists planning to shoot 88 black kids and behead another 14 and then go for Obama--just like McCain's hero John Lewis was afraid of. So it looks like another news cycle that isn't going to be good for McCain. The poor guy just can't catch a break.

I went all along the Boulevard back to where Al Donalds is. They have a single Golden Arch on their logo. I got a hamburger and fries. I'm surprised it still exists. So many places in the Lonely Planet in Lomé are gone. But the one place that rips off a company with teams of lawyers protecting its name still exists. The burger was interesting. Two patties with cole slaw on the burger as a topping. The fries weren't quite done as well as they could be.

After that I wanted to try again to find the Gare Cotonou where bus taxis to Cotonou leave from. No luck. I looked for the American Cultural Center which was supposed to be around there and eventually found what used to the American Cultural Center but is now just a school for teaching English. I looked for the tourists information office, but it was noon so there were only a couple people there and they didn't know where to get bush taxis to Cotonou. Finally I just wandered around. I'd see taxis and look to see if they were bush taxis. I asked a guy at a bus station that has buses to Abidjan and he directed me to a girl who called over another guy. This guy took me to a bus station that goes to Cotonou. I didn't really want a bus, but it was becoming apparent that there weren't bush taxis of the type I know where the bush taxi fills up and leaves and another empty one takes its place. So I got a reservation for a bus that leaves at 10.

Since I was near the Nopegali Plage bar and it was very hot and I remembered them having very cold beer, I headed over there. I got a bottle water and a Flag. As soon as I sat down, a guy sat at my table at the other corner. But he was just waiting for friends and by the time they arrived there were some empty tables and they all went to one of those. Then a Nigerian guy came and sat across from me. He told me he was going to the United States in January. I asked what city. He didn't know. Then, he said he wants my help getting a visa to come to the United States. He asked for a letter of invitation. Maybe from my company, maybe from a friend's company. I told him that it would have to come with a job offer and the process of getting an H-1B visa is very complicated and expensive and it was the worst way to try to get to the United States unless he actually had a job offer. I explained the Green Card lottery which is going on right now. Just about every internet cafe in Africa has a banner saying you can apply at that café. Eventually we exchanged email addresses and he went off with his friends.

After resting for a while at the hotel, I got up to go the Relais de la Poste, a seafood restaurant near the post office. I was the only customer the whole night. I had a shrimp cocktail which is shrimp in a sort of cocktail sauce on a bed of lettuce. It was OK, but I can't wait to have shrimp cocktail in America. Then I got Poisson à la Creme with Pommes de Terre Purées. Fish in cream sauce with mashed potatoes. The fish was an ocean white fish. No fishy taste at all. In fact, if I were blindfolded and fed this meal, I would be pretty sure that I was eating Original Recipe Kentucky Fried Chicken with their mashed potatoes and gravy. It tasted exactly like that. I'm not sure if its a rousing endorsement of Relais de la Poste, but I do like KFC. And anyone traveling in Lomé who hasn't had a Colonel Sanders fix in a while would be well served by ordering this meal.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008 7:14 Togo local time

Lomé Is Really Nice

I woke up early and headed out. Since my plan was that would be only full day in Lomé and Togo, goal #1 is to get postcards to the nieces so they have a complete set. The post office is pretty easy to find and it didn't take long to get there. I peeked inside. Some post offices sell postcards inside; some don't. This one didn't. There was a postcard vendor right across the street. So I got a couple of postcards. Now, to fill them out. I had seen the previous night a cool looking place on the Boulevard close to the intersection where I turned to get the post office. It is called Case du Café, Route des Vins or something like that. I figured I'd go there and have a coffee and a croissant and fill in the post cards.

I entered. It was not quite what I expected. It was very swanky. I was greeted by a woman wearing the shortest shirt I've seen since arriving in Africa. The place is not big at all and they had no pastries. I sat down. They have coffees. In fact, you can choose the country whose beans you want. I got Colombian beans for an espresso. There were a couple of Frenchmen who I suspect were the owners. They have various wines and apertifs and Belgian beers. All priced for the swanky set. A place for people who know their liquids and care. My espresso was good. They have a big screen TV and turned on the French news. The other girl (the one not in the microskirt) asked me "Êtes-vous français?" "Non, je suis Americain." "So you speak English?" "Yes." "I thought you weren't French from your accent"--and, I'm sure, by the fact that I can barely speak it especially after 2 weeks in Ghana. She said it was good that I make an effort. We chatted a bit. I decided I'd go back later in the evening for a nice relaxing glass of wine. While they don't have food, they do have cheese plates. Nice. I also decided that I like Lomé and considered the logistics of getting myself to Niamey by the election. I decided I can stay one more day and make a 13-15 hour trip from Cotonou directly to Niamey rather than break it into 2 trips. My postcards done, I paid CFA 900 for the CFA 800 (US$1.60) cup of coffee and went back to the post office.

The post office in Lomé is a bit chaotic. I didn't get the window system. I stood in one line, but it seemed to be for banking services. Then I saw a description of window #8, the other window. It had "Bienvenue à Guichet No 8" on a sheet of paper taped to the inside of the glass and among the services listed was "Vente: timbres". That's the window I want. I stood in the chaotic crowd in front of the window. Finally the guy pointed at me and I worked my way through the crowd and showed him my postcards. He asked if I wanted stamps. "Oui." He pointed to another window in the Western Union money transfer section of the office and told me to go there. I pointed at the "Vente: timbres" thing on the paper with a confused look, but the other people in the crowd understanding my confusion told me too that I had to go to the other window. So I went to that window and got stamps. Gee. I got them sent, though.

Next I walked down the rest of the radius to the center of Lomé and the beach. I turned east and went back to the semi-circle that is the Boulevard. I was getting hot and went into an ice-cream parlor, La Festival des Glaces or something like that. It was refreshingly air-conditioned. I got a large coffee, orange juice, and chausson aux pommes. It was good. The place has a security guard. The guard actually frisked one guy on the way out. When I left he didn't frisk me, though. I walked the semi-circle stopping into 3 internet cafés until I found one that had seats. Then I surfed the web for 2 hours. Status quo in the election. Good news. Sarah Palin making off-message and unauthorized comments on her wardrobe keeping it in the news for another precious news-cycle. I guess she doesn't understand how the news system works. It's not intuitive at all. I didn't understand it until I read the fascinating collaboration of James Carville and Mary Matalin, Alls Fair, one of the most interesting books on political campaigning. Anyone who doesn't understand the importance of message discipline needs to read that book. Sarah Palin hasn't read it, I guess. Either she doesn't care about message discipline or she has given up on the election and is trying to salvage her own image at the expense of McCain's campaign. Either way, I'm happy to see it.

Next, I was a bit hungry so I went to a place called Brochettes sur la Capital. I ordered a Star which turned out to be ice cold (much appreciated) and after some effort, since they don't have menus, a brochette sandwich. Brochettes are pieces of meat on sticks cooked over fire. Like yakitori but without the sauce. Brochettes sur la Capital is an outdoor place and it one of those places that doesn't mind if the ambulant merchants come in and sell to customers. I wasn't interested in much, but then a guy showed me Shrek 3. Interested. I took a look at it. It was a French edition. I looked at the back. They listed French as the language and French subtitles. But no English. I told him I couldn't buy it if it didn't actually say English. He argued that the movie was in English and French was on option. But I wasn't willing to buy unless it explicitly said English. We opened it to see if it was written on the DVD. Nope. Then I looked at the back. Actually, the language wasn't French, rather the lanugage was French. And it wasn't subtitled in French but rather subitled in French. Hmmm.... This smacks of pirated copy. I don't think the actual makers of the real Shrek DVD have misspellings on their packages. I'll never understand why spammers and pirates don't run the grammar and spelling by a native speaker. But they don't and I'm happy. The poor guy had to go away without making a sale. He sent in another DVD vendor most likely telling him I required that the existence of an English soundtrack be written on the box. I looked through his stuff. Half of his stuff was hardcore porn which he tried to promote a bit--probably suspecting I wouldn't care what language that was in. But I didn't want it. In the end he had nothing I wanted either. I paid my bill and headed off to the Musée National.

The Musée National has an entrance fee of CFA 1000 (US$2). I gave them a CFA 5000 note and they said they'd give me change later. I had them write the credit on the ticket--something I started doing since my stay at the Date Hotel in Accra. I did it too at the Busy Internet cafe in Accra and the Hôtel du Boulevard in Lomé. When you ask for that, they take it seriously. The Hôtel du Boulevard and the Musée National both got me change quickly and canceled out the written credit on the paper I they had given me.

The woman asked if I needed a guide and I told her I didn't-I could speak a little French but I read it pretty well. The exhibit descriptions are all in French. It starts with a description of Togolese iron age metallurgy. Nice! It might the Museum of Natural History, but I think it is the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art that has a nice exhibit on African Iron Age metallurgy. The Met exhibit is a bit more extensive and gives more of an overview while the Togolese exhibit goes more into the regional differences in the bellows which is the most important part of the forge. The Met exhibit focused more on iron wire as an end product while the Togolese exhibit focused more on hammered metal objects. So the two exhibits complement each other beautifully. Of course I'm biased. My first summer job obtained by sending out fifty resumes after my sophomore year got me one offer--from a steel mill writing lockout-tagout procedures for mechanical systems. So I got an intimate look at the fascinating steel industry. So my interest in metal is a bit more intense than that of most people. The rest of the exhibit was about pottery, musical instruments, and items used for rituals. Then downstairs was a smaller exhibit room with a little section on slavery and a little section with the leaders of Togo from teh first Germans before WWI to the British between WWI and WWII and the French after WWII until 1960 when the locals took over. A very nice and interesting museum. Worth every CFA--as long as you can read French.

Monday, October 27, 2008 17:43 Togo local time

Impressions Of Ghana

Ghana is a different place from everywhere else in West Africa I've been. It doesn't feel like a Third World country as much as a First World country in 1910. From the third floor of the Queen's Gate Restaurant above a busy Kumasi intersection, watching the city below, I had a flashback to a similar scene with a similar camera angle in The Sting, I believe. The descriptions in Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy also seem to fit Kumasi as well. Accra is even more advanced--like American in 1970. And the district of Osu where all the white people and rich Africans hang out is like few acres of modern G7.

There are a lot of white people in Ghana. I guess I expected that since white girls with no qualifications other than a desire to go to Africa seem to always wind up in Ghana. But there are a lot. Too many.

Ghana is very religious. It seems that more than half the businesses are some Christian phrase followed by the word Enterprises or Ventures or Fashions. Praise Jesus Enterprises, The Lord Is Thy Shepherd Ventures, Kingdom Come Fashions. OK, I made those up, but they could very well exist. You could easily create a Ghana business name generator that generates random business names on this principle.

I felt bad that my French didn't fare so well in Conakry. Well, my English doesn't seem to fare well in northern Ghana. Their English is little different from ours.

My first 2 meals with a salad/starter and a main dish had the main dish come out first. Coincidence? Or do the Ghanaians not do the starter before the main dish?

There is much more Western style dress here and far fewer of the matching African print top/bottoms that women wear and the matching solids men wear. In Kumasi, there is almost nobody wearing traditional Muslim dress. The cloth in Kumasi is more geometric and less organic--like Navajo style patterns.

There are bookstores and evidence of education everywhere. Ghana takes education seriously. Even Burkina Faso did pretty well there. Senegal, too.

Women in Ghana carry glass display cases filled with baked goods on their heads. I've seen them in other countries too, but there are more here.

The ditches on the side of the road seem to designed to inflict maximum damage on anyone unlucky enough to fall into them.

The makers of Latex Foam have a huge ad budget.

Meat pies are plentiful in most parts of Ghana. Like women, they come in all shapes and sizes. Like women, they came in various flavors. Like women, some are better than others. Like women, they are addictive. Like women, they are very satisfying. Unlike women, they are inexpensive. Unlike women, you can have more than one at a time.

Accra, Ghana To Lomé, Togo: It's Fun Again!

I got up and went to check out of the Date Hotel at about 8am. The guy from 2 days ago was at the desk. Two days ago, I told him I'd like to reserve a room from the December 12th through the 15th. He said he'd make a note of it. When I checked out, he asked me if I still needed a reservation. "Yes, from December 12th to December 15th". There is a calendar on the wall. He flipped to the December page and drew a circle around the 12th of December. I thanked him. But somehow, I don't really trust their reservation system. I hope they have vacancies when I return to Accra.

Then I headed out. I didn't have to walk more than a block when a taxi came by. GH¢3 to Tudu station. We made it to Tudu and people started shouting city names through the window. The Lomé guy pointed us to the Lomé section. I was expecting a minibus, but actually it a car holding 4 people. Better than a sept-place since you only need to wait for 3 other people. And I was already the third. The tickets are GH¢9. Not too bad. The station people grabbed my luggage from the taxi and hauled it across the street and placed it into the trunk of the car. I got in and waited. The 2 guys who hauled my luggage came and asked for something. I gave one guy GH¢1 and told them it was for both of them. But the guy took off as soon as he had the bill leaving his compatriot. This guy then asked for something. I told him he should get his half from the other guy. "But he's already gone." "I told you guys it was for the both of you." "Can't just just give me a little something? It's Sunday." Oh yeah, appeal to the religious sense of an atheist. Ha! "Sorry, but I'm not going to pay GH¢2 to have my luggage carried across the street." He kept trying, but no luck. In the end, he wouldn't get anything. Sorry guy.

It was only about another 5 minutes when a fourth guy came and we were off. Probably not even 8:30. It's about 185 km to Aflao which is the border town a couple of kilometers from Lomé which is practically where the Togo-Ghana border meets the Atlantic Ocean. I had moved to the middle seat since the last guy looked kind of big and probably would suffer there more than I would. It was pretty uncomfortable. The road was pretty good for the first half. Then we started encountering potholes and construction. There were even some places where the locals fill in the potholes with dirt and then shout at the passing cars to give them some money for the effort. Our driver didn't. The police checkpoints weren't a problem. We were just waived through half of them and we didn't even stop at the other half. Finally about about 11, we got to the border.

The car was surrounded by people. Two women moved my luggage into a basket. I went to grab a piece and the woman grabbed it and moved it to her other side. "Why can't I have my luggage?" I guy asked if I needed a taxi to Lomé. "Yes. How much does it cost?" It became apparent this was a team. Two men--one in a white robe--and two women. The guy in the white robe was doing the talking. "We'll decide on that later." Ah ha!

If West Africa is dinosaurs, then Ghana is Barney and Francophone Africa is Jurassic Park. I was among velociraptors again. Yay! No more big purple dinosaurs! It felt good. Yes, it's frustrating and expensive, but it's a lot more fun going mano à mano with T. rex. Travel in West Africa out side of Ghana is a contact sport. It's the black team vs. the white team. The black team knows the rules (and changes them as it goes along) and the white team is still figuring them out. The object of the game: the black team tries to get as much money as possible from the white team using any means necessary short of theft.

We were close to the border. I could see the two border posts. "I won't pay more than GH¢1 for all the luggage" I said causing one women to dump her load on the other woman. I guess she thought I wouldn't be good pickings. They asked if I need CFA. I told them I had enough. We walked toward the Ghana police. I went up and filled out a card. A woman looked it over and then sent me into an office with the card and my passport where I got my exit stamp.

Then we went over to Ghana immigration. I handed the guard my passport. "Are you going to Bamako?" he asked. Bamako? "No, I said, I'm going to Lomé." "Will you be returning to Bamako?" "No." "Will you be returning to Accra?" "Yes, by plane from Douala, Cameroon." "Accra is great, isn't it?" he asked proudly. I smiled. "Yes it is." Then he let me through. Then I realized that I didn't have sunglasses. I went back to look for them, but couldn't find them. Oh well.

Now it was off to Togo. The guy in the white robe said that we had to go through Togo customs. And that would take 1 CFA. I said I didn't understand. He said I would 1 CFA to clear customs. I told him one CFA is worth practically nothing and he needed to tell me what he meant. He asked me "do you know CFA?" "Yes, I've been to Senegal, Guinea-Bissau, Mali, and Burkino Faso. I know CFA. I don't know what you mean by 1 CFA." "Ten CFA." "Ten CFA? I still don't know what you mean." "Ten thousand CFA. We need ten thoudand CFA to get through customs." He was doing Cedi math. In Ghana, there are two money systems, the Cedi and the Ghana Cedi. A Ghana Cedi is equal to exactly 10000 Cedi. He was saying 1 CFA when he meant 10000 CFA.

Of course, CFA 10000 is like US$20 and there's no way that I would need to pay that to get through customs. We went up to the Togo police. I filled out a paper form with parents names' being the oddest question though I've had to answer that one several times so far. But mostly straightforward stuff. Then they gave me my stamp.

I went out and they directed me to a taxi just before Togo customs. The people carrying my baggage put it into the trunk. OK, now how much for the cab ride? "3000 CFA" he said. "No that's too high. I'll pay no more than CFA 2000." "They wouldn't budge." "Fine," I said. I tried to pay the baggage woman GH¢1 and she wouldn't take it. "That's no good," she sneered. The guy in the white robe said I needed to pay more. "I told you way back there that I wouldn't pay more than GH¢1 for all the baggage." "We had to wait for you a long time at the border stops." It didn't take any longer than it would take anyone else. "No!" I said, "If you needed more than GH¢1 for the luggage then the time to tell me was back when I said I wasn't willing to pay more than GH¢1 for all the luggage." "Just a little more." "The time to negotiate this was over way back there! It's finished!" I got into the back seat where they had opened the door. "Just a little bit more," he asked. I reached into my pocket and got out another GH¢1. I held one in each hand. I made him beg for it about 2 more times telling him that the same stuff over again. In the end I suppose he thought he won since he just had to beg for GH¢1 for about 2 minutes while I told him that he wasn't doing business properly. I felt pretty good because I got his hackles up. And they were up as I would soon find out.

We were just a few feet before the customs station. Then the guy in the white robe got in the front seat. "Wait a minute! What are you doing in here!?" He said he was going to help me through customs. I opened the door and got out. He got out. "No! I've been through customs in Senegal, Gambia, Guinea-Bissau, Guinea-Conakry,"--I ran out of breath and got lost--"and a few other places! I've done this before! And I've certainly never paid CFA10000 to any customs official! Ever!" I didn't tell me about the Faramoya customs guys who extorted €30 out of me, of course. I turned to the taxi driver. "Give me my stuff! I'm going to do this by myself!" The white robe guy realized he wasn't going to sucker me out of much more money. "OK" he said, "just get back into the cab and we'll call the customs guy over." The customs guy had been sitting there the whole time just watching this whole scene. The cab driver popped the trunk and he came over and looked at the contents for about 10 seconds. Then the trunk closed, the driver got in, and we started to take off.

I wasn't sure what was happening, but the cab driver and the guy in the white robe got into a shouting match. It lasted about a minute. I wasn't sure what this was about. But I was happy to see that the guy in the white robe wasn't having fun. Finally after a minute, the taxi driver passed him a few coins and started to drive away. Then guy in the white robe followed shouting some more with the driver. The drivers stopped again and handed over a few more coins. Then we were finally on our way.

"He wanted CFA1000 for bringing you to me. But I refused--I only gave him 400." So the guy in the white robe, the young man, and the woman made a total haul of GH¢2 and CFA400. Not much over US$2.50--and they had to scrap hard for that, even. The taxi driver got the best of it getting CFA 2600 to take me into Lomé. But, I was pretty happy. Back among the velociraptors. We were off to the Hôtel du Boulevard. We went along the beach. There are a lot of people on the beach--not sunbathing or swimming. Just sort of loitering. We went all along the beach until we got the far end of the boulevard and turned up to my hotel. Lomé has an interesting setup. The Boulevard is a semicircular street that takes about 30 minutes to walk from one end to the other. Pretty big. Then the beach road goes along the diameter. My hotel is on the Boulevard at the other end of Lomé.

We arrived. "Avez-vous une chambre pour deux nuits?" Yep, they have a room. Only CFA 6000 (US$12) per night. They took my passport to fill out the fîche for the police while I freshened up a bit and looked at the map in Lonely Planet to figure out what I would eat for lunch. It was getting close to noon. I went back down and paid and they commented that I was much much fatter in my passport picture.

Then I headed out and went along the Boulevard to the west. I got almost to the end and decided to stop in a place with a lot of people called Nopagali Plage or something like that. I got a Star. The woman asked if I wanted food. I said I would. She asked what I wanted. I asked if there was a menu. She shook her head. "Poulet, poisson, riz?" "Avez vous frites?" "Non." "OK, je voudrais poulet et riz." She asked something else but I didn't understand. Finally I guess she figured I'd just eat and pay for whatever she put in front of me. And that was my plan.

I had my journal and started writing into it and thinking about things. I noticed something interesting. I've been in West Africa for a bout 3 months now and for the first time, I'm beginning to find larger and larger numbers of women to be sexually attractive. I was never into the black girl look before. Of course, there the ones that are super-hot like Halle Barry. But she's part white so maybe she doesn't count. I don't know if it is just the time I've spent here or maybe because I came through Ghana where the women just look healthier than in the rest of Africa and basically lead a middle class lifestyle with middle class looks. Maybe since I'm now out of the Muslim area, the women act and dress more to American tastes. They certainly do a lot with their hair down here whereas in the Muslim countries they tend to cover their heads. One woman came in and went over to a table of men and one other woman she was meeting. She was gorgeous and had recently coiffed hair. Nice jewelry, perfect makeup. All the men in the place watched her come in and take her seat. She was hot. Later I saw a woman with a really neat hat. She was hot too. I ordered more beer. A group of three young women--maybe early 20's came in and sat at the table in front of me. They glanced over a few times and caught me checking them out. We all smiled.

There were ambulant merchants walking by. I was keeping my eyes out for one with sunglasses. Finally a guy with dozens of pairs of sunglasses came by. I jogged up to him. "J'ai besoin des lunettes de soliel." I found a pair I liked and he cleaned them for me. I tried them on. Not as dark as the other ones but when I stepped out of the shqde and into the sun, they seemed pretty good. He asked CFA 3500. I offered CFA 2500. We settled on CFA 3000 (US$6). While I was buying, another guy came up and bought a pair of sunglasses, too. A good stop for the vendor.

Finally, I paid my bill and headed out. There was a slight misunderstanding. I thought the bill was CFA 8000, but it was CFA 5000. So I didn't understand why I got so much change back. A happy misunderstanding.

I came back to my room to rest and then decided in the evening to go the other way. I went all the way to the other end where I stopped in a Chinese restaurant. I refused the eggrolls (nem in French) because they were CFA 2000 (US$4) and I'm sick of getting ripped off by overpriced a la carte things that should be cheap. I did get a CFA 1500 egg white soup, though. I also got sweet and sour pork and some spicy vegetables. It was pretty good, but not spectacular. The bill came to CFA 12000 or so (US$24). Now it was dark, but the Boulevard is lively and there is enough light to avoid falling into a hole. I passed one guy sleeping on the street. Lomé has muggings and pickpockets, but this won't be a target of them. He was buck naked. Not a stitch. No wallet, no shoes, nothing. I don't know what he does when he's not sleeping, but he sure doesn't seem like a guy with a lot of options. I made it back and tried to sleep with my underpowered fan whispering air onto me.

Monday, October 27, 2008 8:04 Togo local time

Fifth And Last Day In Accra

So yesterday was my last day in Accra. Well, actually, I'll fly back from from Douala, Cameroon and spend a couple days here. But it's my last day on this leg. I had nothing to accomplish--except smoke the other half of my Cohiba cigar.

In the morning I worked on the internet. Then I went to Champs sports bar. For some reason the Lonely Planet puts the icon in the wrong place on the map. It's right on the main road and not off on a parallel side street. There is a refundable cover of GH¢8. I went in. At 10:30 there are no customers. But at 11am, there was a crowd to watch Manchester United get tied by Everton. It was fun watching the match with all these true soccer fans. Champs claims to be a Mexican restaurant, so I ordered Chicken Chimighangas. When they came they were warm but not hot. The cheese was not melted. But I had already applied the guacamole which seemed to lack enough salt or something. The tortilla was not a tortilla but a sort of extra flat flat-bread. Oh why do I eat at every Mexican restaurant in Africa? They just don't do it right in West Africa.

Well, after that I decided to have pizza. There is a place called Mama Mia's that is supposed to have the best pizza in Accra. I took a tro-tro from my neighborhood to Osu and found it a ways down in the southern part of Osu. The pizza was good, but a bit pricey. I paid GH¢12 and it wasn't one of the more expensive ones. I had a pizza on the way home a few days ago at the Osu food court and it was only GH¢8.50 and about as good. So I'd say the food court pizza is better value. A group came in after a while. Two white people and about 15 Africans. The white woman said that they could order 1 pizza per two people so sit next to someone who wants your toppings. Then she was trying to figure out what everyone wanted to drink so she could tell the waiter. "Who wants Schweppes? Who wants Sprite? Who wants Fanta? Who wants Coca-Cola?" People were raising their hands at the mention of the drinks. Finally she asked the obvious questions "does anybody want beer?" in a manner that made me think the answer would be no. There were a couple brave souls. So, my guess was that they were missionaries. After a while I saw one guy had a little blue book. I couldn't read the title but it was a short word followed by a long word. So I'm sure it said "New Testament".

There was one women who placed a takeout order. She had a really sexy body and walked that walk that really sexy African women walk--slow and sexy with that "you can look but you can't touch (unless I let you)" attitude. She walked in, all male eyes tracking her movements, and placed her order. Then she walked out. A few minutes later, she came back in and attracted all the eyes once more as she checked on her order. Again a few minutes later, she came back in, got her box, and walked out. I'm sure all the men were disappointed because that was the last we'd see of her, but a few minutes later, she sauntered back in and did something and sauntered back out.

After that I went back to Monsoon--the upscale complex with a cocktail bar, restaurant, and sushi bar. I sat at the bar by the wall reading La route. I got a Bloody Mary. Then, an hour later a Jack Daniels to go with my cigar. Then an hour after that, a final beer. The place went from empty to crowded while I was there. It was Saturday, after all. Everyone in pairs or threes or fours. Then there's me with Cormac McCarthy.

It wasn't too late when I left. I went down and there was a guy standing by his cab. I asked how much to Adabraka and he said GH¢4. I said I'd do it for GH¢3 but not four. He acquiesced. We headed to Adabraka. We had to pass a police checkpoint but the policeman wasn't interested in us. I told the guy how to get to my hotel, but he wanted to stop and ask another taxi driver. The other driver told him what I had already told him. Then he took me there and asked for GH¢4. I told him we had agreed on GH¢3. "Please, I beg you", he said. He looked so sad and pathetic. And it worked. I totally felt sorry for him as I paid him GH¢3.

Sunday, October 26, 2008 7:19 Ghana local time

Fourth Day in Accra: Tickets Home

Day 4. I had 2 goals. First, get postcards mailed. The main post office is downtown, due south of my hotel. I haven't been there yet. So I walked down. Wow! This part of town is just one huge market. Tro-Tros running everywhere, trucks, people loading and unloading goods and setting up their shops. A crush of people. I kept going south while walking east to west and west to east through this pulsing scene. I got a meat pie and a GH¢0.05 bag of water. These nickel bags of cold water are great. Finally I got to the post office and mailed the post cards. Then I headed back up buying another meat pie on the way that turned out to be a curry meat pie.
Now, to find the travel agency near me that's in Lonely Planet. Nope, no longer there. That's 2 travel agencies I couldn't find in 2 days. I was pretty sure I saw the M & J Travel agency over by Osu, though. So I walked there.

And there it was right on Ring Road not far from Osu. I went in and sat down by the unbusiest looking woman (who was also quite pretty) and asked her if she could help me get some tickets. She started looking for flights from Douala, but since they all go through Paris--Charles de Gaulle, the cheapest was about US$3200. Hmmm... She said that what I could do was to get a flight from either Lagos or Accra since they go through cheaper cities and then get a less expensive flight from Douala to that city. Since I have a multiple entry visa for Ghana but not for Nigeria, I decided on Accra. I wouldn't mind staying here a few days either, so I figured I could get a flight a few days before my flight to Chicago.

So we decided on a Virgin Nigeria flight connecting in Douala to Accra on the December 12. Then on December 15, a KLM flight from Accra to O'Hare connecting in Amsterdam and Detroit. Home just in time for Christmas. :-)

But first, there I gotta pay. Here's the hitch--M & J Tours doesn't have credit cards machines. The KLM flight has to be paid for at the KLM office since they have a credit card machine there. And the Virgin Nigeria flight has to paid for in cash. Yikes! It's GH¢561. That's a lot of cash. More than my ATM daily limit. So I decided to take it out in 2 chunks--GH¢300 from my debit card and GH¢300 from my credit card. I did it at the Barclays in Osu and it worked--my only fear was that the fraud department at the bank would reject the KLM part. I headed back with bulging pockets and paid. Whew! But now, we had to go to KLM. The man at the travel agency would accompany me to the KLM office. It's a ways down on Ring Road. We went in to pay for the ticket. Credit card declined. Yikes! The mn at KLM said it required a preauthorization. I didn't have a phone. So the travel guy offered to lend he his if we I would buy a phone card. I got a GH¢4 phone card and he charged his phone and then we called the bank. I explained my situation and answered all the security questions. They turned my card back on. We went back into KLM and I got my tickets. Then the guy had to go by himself to Virgin Nigeria to get the tickets from them. I didn't have to go since they already had the money. I just had to return to M & J at 2pm to get the final ticket.

So I walked back to Osu and hung out at the Venus bar having a cold beer and 1.5 liter bottle of cold water. It was pretty hot and it was good to cool off. At 2, I went and got my Virgin tickets. Actually they are all eTickets. Nice. That means I don't have to carry them in my money belt. Yay!

Then I went to check the internet sites. It was late afternoon and the 2 meat pies from the morning were starting to wear off, so I thought I'd try Papaye's--a Ghanaian fast food place. I had 2 pieces of fried chicken with fries and cole slaw. Actually, Papaye's does fries quite well. It's so hard to find properly cooked fries in Africa. Then back to the Venus bar for a couple more beers and some spicy chicken wings that were very good as well. By now it was just gotten dark and I decided to walk home. I didn't get very far and decided that the road had too many uneven spots and walking would be too dangerous even though it not long after sunset. There was a tro-tro across the street. The conductor was shouting "Se se se se se" or something like that. I have no idea where that is, so I asked himif it goes to Nkrumah Circle which I'm pretty sure it did since it probably just plies the East, Central, and West Ring Road. I got on. It took me to Nkrumah Circle after a few minutes and I got out. Only GH¢0.25. Like a quarter. I just had to walk down Nkrumah road to the hotel which is only about a 5 minute walk. Funkies' Fast Food was already closed so meat pie snacks.

The night was still young, but I just stayed in the rest of the night. I don't normally go out at night. It's just so much easier in an Anglophone country than a Francophone country.

Saturday, October 25, 2008 7:57 Ghana local time

Third Full Day In Accra: Three Visas In One Swoop

Day 3. My mission is to get the Visa Touristique Entente. I headed out to find a place where I could have a coffee and a pastry and fill out my forms. Le Petit Paris was my destination, but I couldn't find it. So back to Osu which is close to the Togolese embassy. I ate at Frankie's. Frankie's is a local place popular with the foreigners and richer Ghanaians. I had a couple of donuts, a coffee, and an orange juice. They had CNN and AC, too. But it is definitely on the pricey side. I keep buying expensive food and translating the cost into meat pies. You can get 2 meat pies for GH¢1.

The guy at the Togolese embassy had told me to come at about 9:30 so I headed up to get there at 9:30. The guard guy let me in but I still wasn't being required to sign in. Just to walk right in though the guard guy accompanied me to the window. I, of course, knew why--later he'd most likely hit me up for a little money. I handed my passport, forms, 2 pictures (I panicked because they were wedged in my Lonely Planet instead of my money belt where my passport goes) to the officer at the Reception window. The officer glued the pictures to the forms. Then he got a numbered plastic tag and wrapped it around my passport while giving me a matching number. At that he took the CFA 30000 (US$60). Interesting. Ghana's Bamako embassy gave me a receipt. So far only Ghana and Togo had embassies that give me something to prove that they have my passport. The man told me to come at 2pm.

So now I had some time. I went to an internet cafe in Osu and surfed for 2 hours. Then time to check out Frankie's at lunch. They had Sky News instead of CNN this time. Yuck. For a while they had a Sky News/Fox Business News segment but I was severely distracted by the extremely annoying logos of Sky News and Fox Business News spinning around and wobbling and what-not. I had a GH¢5.80 hot dog. You'd think for that rice it would be a big sausage, but it wasn't. I stayed until about 1:20. Then I went to another expat place--the Koala market. It's a grocery store with imported goods. I got some peanut butter after determining that groundnut paste is, in fact, the same thing as peanut butter. Also a pack of Starburst.

Then it was about time to head back to the Togolese embassy. I went in at 2 and got my passport. Yay! The guard guy met me on the way out and rubbed his fingers together. Just as I suspected. I slipped him a Cedi.

Mission accomplished, I headed to Ryan's Irish Pub. For the first time I didn't get lost trying to find it. When I walked in there was a baseball game on. Near the beginning. I asked if it was live. A guy at a table said it was last night. I told him not to tell me how it turns out. He asked if I wanted to make a bet on the result. ;-)

Here is how much I follow baseball. Not only did I not know that the Phillies were in the World Series, but I didn't even know that there exists a team called the Tampa Bay Rays. It was the first I ever heard of them. I didn't really have a dog in the fight so I applied rule #1 when I don't care--when a Union state team plays a Confederate state team, root for the Union state team. I don't know who does the counter for number of outs and ball/strike count, but whoever it was must have been chatting with his girlfriend or something. It was just annoyingly inaccurate. It isn't the one Fox does in the United States--but a non-network generic "World Series" score and count for overseas broadcasts.

The game pretty much took me to happy hour which mercifully lasts from 5 to 9 on Thursdays. I paid GH¢7 for 2 beers and a water during the game and GH¢6.50 for 4 beers during happy hour. Much cheaper. I met a nice British woman who drive from London to Accra with her husband 5 years ago and now works in the British High Commission. I asked her about taxi prices. She said that the drivers pretty much all add an obruni premium and you have no choice to absorb it. I also met an Irish guy who is here on a UN project. We talked about Ireland and other places he has lived and worked. Pretty interesting. Finally at about 9:30 I hailed a cab and went to the 24 hour Busy Internet cafe. He charged me GH¢3 after a threat to walk away. I surfed until after midnight there. Not many people there after midnight. There were more in Conakry's cafe late at night. Of course, the MouNa is right in downtown Conakry and this is on Central Ring Road. Then I got a taxi home for only GH¢2.50.

Friday, October 24, 2008 7:22 Ghana local time

Second Full Day In Accra

My major goal for the day was to get my passport back from the Nigerian embassy. I was supposed to show up at the embassy between 2 and 3pm. So I had some time in the morning. First thing--get some more money after my expensive day yesterday. That was easy. Next, do some websurfing. I checked talkingpointsmemo.com, fiverthirtyeight.com, and my blogs. Obama is back on course. McCain is running out of time and cutting back on advertising in critical states. Meanwhile, the money keeps rolling in for Obama. The Republican citizens at the campaign events seem to think it's unfair that McCain is bound by different rules than Obama. Well, if they would have been willing to pony up the money needed to run a successful campaign, McCain wouldn't be in this mess. But it seems that the Reps don't want to back him financially. Is that Obama's fault? I don't think so. It was a good day internet wise.

After getting my Obama reassurance, I headed to Osu and then north to find the Togo embassy. They don't have a plaque, just a flag. Hint to Lonely Planet--put a picture of the flags of each West African country into the guide book on one of the color pages. It would make finding the embassies a little easier. It was still only about 11am, so I decided to find a place where I could get a Coca-Cola. I found this nice place signposted from the circle with the Togolese embassy called the ZanziBar. I went in and got a Coke. It wasn't too cold. They turned off the loud TV and put on some nice jazz and the breeze was occasional but refreshing. Since I still had quite a bit of time and it was nice there, I decided to get a small Star beer. It was, in contrast to the Coke, ice cold. The coldest beer I had in Africa, perhaps. It was so good. On the way out, I asked to see the dinner menu. It looked good. I decided I'd come one of these nights.

Then, since I was not far from the Togolese embassy, I went to gather some information. The guy at the guard station was really friendly. He answered what questions he could and then sent me in to get the forms for the Visa Touristique Entente and ask the rest of the questions. So I got 2 forms with really simple questions. Nothing like "have you ever been convicted of a crime." Just the basics. I need 2 photos (my last 2--I'll need to make some for the Cameroonian visa) and CFA 30000 (US$60) which I have already. I have a lot of CFA.

So I still had a lot of time to kill so I went down to Osu and stopped in the Niagara Hotel Bar where I got an Orange Fanta. While I was drinking it, a local woman came in and asked if she could sit with me. I didn't know what she was but I said yes. She introduced herself. Osu is the rich part of town. There are tons of white people and the Ghanaians who consume have high incomes. Was she trying to get me to buy her stuff? I didn't bite. I was polite but not encouraging. She wasn't really my type. There are women who would have gotten a Fanta from me but not her. Finally, 1:30 came around and I told her I had a 2:00 appointment and paid my bill (GH¢1) and left.

I walked to the north of the circle that borders the north end of Osu and then got a cab. He wanted to charge me GH¢5 to the Nigerian embassy but I got him to GH¢4. Actually he didn't know where it was so I had to tell him how to get there. Once we got close, he realized where it was. He told me that next time I should tell the taxi driver to take me to Roman Ridge since they all know where that is. I was a bit early so I just walked around the neighborhood a bit. Then I entered at 2. The woman I dashed yesterday was there again. I signed in and went to the waiting room. The waiting room was full. The visa guy came out and consulted with a couple of people. Then he went back to his office. Next he came out and gave me my passport and the receipt for the US$100 I paid. I looked at the visa. Looked good. Yay!!!! I had to jump through some hoops, but it all worked out in the end. I have my Nigerian visa! Only the guard woman asked for a dash. The embassy guy didn't.

In a mood to celebrate, I got a taxi to take me to Ryan's Irish Pub where I had GH¢3 credit. I got a couple of beers and a water. The World's Best Fishing Show was on and I watched it wondering how fishing shows can stay on the air. Then there was another fishing show. Then a hunting show whereupon I asked Janet, the bartendress to change the channel to the news. It's SkyNews so it's bad, but at least it's news. Janet suggested next time I get some food (I wasn't hungry because I had a couple of meat pies for breakfast). I looked at the menu. Ryan's is way overpriced. Even Bill Gates would find it overpriced. I was shocked the day before when I saw a whole table of people eating tiramisu and then I saw the price of tiramisu on the specials board--GH¢9. That was like 5 tiramisu's or about US$50 of tiramisu. No way! I'll pay for good food, but I won't pay French food prices for pub food. Which reminded me of ZanziBar.

It isn't far from Ryan's Irish Pub to ZanziBar (by Pacific Northwest hiker standards) so I walked up. I was especially intrigued by an item on their menu: Chateaubriand with Roquefort. It was GH¢13.50--just GH¢1.50 more than the 8 ounce burger at Ryan's Irish Pub. I got an ice cold Star and a nice salad to start. Then I got a small bottle of a Chilean Cab-Sauvignon (25cl and not 375 ml like the small bottles everywhere else) and the Chateaubriand with Roquefort. It was so good. It came with garlic mashed potatoes. If I had to quibble, the mashed potatoes had a flavor I'm not used to--nutmeg. It was interesting, but the nutmeg was a bit too powerful for me. The bread wasn't served with butter, but it was fresh and baked there on site, I think. It was soft, warm, and yummy. The Chateaubriand was delicious. The Roquefort flavor was forward but not overpowering. Just the perfect blend. L'Eau Vive in Bobo-Dioulasso and le Café du Fleuve in Bamako were better, but this was very good for a non-Francophone country. Almost in their category.

I finished off with a warm apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream and an espresso. Then I topped that with a shot of Baileys on ice. The total bill with tip was GH¢50. Pricey but still cheaper than yesterday and better than yesterday.

They have a mirror there at ZanziBar. I looked at myself in the mirror and liked what I saw. I look like an adventurer. I have the outfit of an voyageur. I am thinner than I've ever been and have the sunburn, sweat matted hair, and rugged look of a seasoned explorer. I saw a guy who can show up in a French speaking town at 2am and find a room. I saw a guy with courage and stamina. There looking back at me was a guy who made a decision to crash through a set of boundaries and followed through. That is a guy who knows he can overcome his own limitations--because he did. My 40's are going to be good.

Then I hailed a cab which I got down from GH¢5 to GH¢4. I think taxis in Accra are just expensive. I don't know if I'm getting obruni prices because they are all in the same ballpark.

Tuesday, October 22, 2008 20:46 Ghana local time

First Full Day In Accra, Ghana

I woke up and headed out. When I paid for my hotel yesterday, I paid GH¢12 for a GH¢11.50 room. The woman said she would give me the 50 pesewas when she saw me next. I went to pay for today's lodging and since I hadn't yet received my GH¢0.50, I had GH¢11 ready. So you can imagine my surprise when they told me I owed GH¢1.50 from the previous day! I told them that in fact they owed me GH¢0.50. It was a different person and all he had to go on was a sheet of paper that said the guy in room 14 owed GH¢1.50 and the guy in room 16 owed GH¢0.60. I asked if the woman who worked there would be there later and he said they would. I paid the money but I will make that woman declare before God that she remembers me paying only GH¢10 for the GH¢11.50 room. Because I have an absolute positive memory of giving her GH¢12 and an absolute positive memory of her telling me that she would give me GH¢0.50 when I next saw her. I was angry. I told the guy, while I paid the GH¢1.50 that it was absolutely incorrect. If she refuses to refund me GH¢2, then I can say with certainty that they are ripping me off.
Anyway, I thought I'd eat at a breakfast place called Orangery. But it was closed. Oh well. It was still early and I thought I'd find the Nigerian embassy and then head over to Osu where I could grab a bite to eat while I waited for it to open. I passed by the Nigerien embassy which is different from the Nigerian embassy but on the way. After a while I made it to the street with the Australian HIgh Commission, Japanese embassy and Nigerian embassy. I walked quite a way down the street, but I didn't see anything so I asked some people. One guy said I had to keep going in the same direction and another guy said I had to go back and turn right. Hmmm.... I went back and then turned around again and went further. There was the Australian flag waving. The Nigerian embassy should be really close. But not there. Hmmm... Since my hat often is confused for an Australian hat, I figured I'd try asking there.

The guard there knew where it was. He couldn't find it my map, so he drew a map that was sort of accurate and sort of not. But for the most part, I could relate his map to the map in the Lonely Planet. The guy was so excited to be giving me directions that he basically repeated the directions 3 times explaining each step. "Then you'll come to an interchange. You don't go right--that goes to the airport. You don't go left. You go straight through." At each intersection he told me the same thing--telling me which directions to not go in before telling me which direction to go in. It was sort of funny.

It as 9am and the sun was starting to beat down hard. The walk to the Nigerian embassy is about an hour walk. I got to within a few blocks when I essentially didn't know where to go. I didn't know I was just a few blocks away. So I hailed a cab and he said he could take me there for GH¢2. A minute later in from of the embassy, I handed him GH¢2 and told him "that's the easy two cedis you'll make all day." He had no response.

Basically, the Nigerian embassy is off Atchimota road. There is an interchange that goes to something called "Pig Farm" which seems to be a motor park or something. There is a Total gas station right on the corner of the interchange. If you head a little northwest from the gas station on the north side of the road, the first street to the north-east is Continental Road though the sign is really faded. Go right on Continental and go one block. There is a large nursery school called Little Angels or something like that. Turn left and go 2 blocks. Then turn right and go one block. That's the Nigerian embassy.

I went up to the window and a woman gave me a small sheet of paper with the stuff I need and 2 sheets of paper. The list of stuff I need included a letter of invitation from host, a letter of introduction from company, 2 photocopies of my passport detail page and page that carries a valid resident permit, 2 passport sized photo, and 2 fully filled out application forms. Three of those things I don't have. I asked if that would be a problem. She sort of shook her head like a metronome to indicate yes and no. I asked her the fee. For US citizens, it's US$100.
So, I had some work to do. There is a forex office right by the Total station called Orchid Forex. I headed there. Their rates are pretty good bid/ask of GH¢1.16 and GH¢1.19 for a dollar. Pretty tight. So I got a US$100 bill. I asked if there was a photocopy place anywhere near there. They suggested the Total station. At the Total station, they pointed across the street to a booth that does photocopies. Yay! All this stuff is close to the embassy. So I got photocopies of my passport, Ghana visa, entry stamp--only GH¢0.10 per page. Then I went back to the little fast food joint inside the Total and got a Sprite while I filled out the forms. Hmm... The 2 sheets of paper are not two applications, but one application.

They ask a lot of weird questions. Like every country I have lived in for more than a year in the last 5 years. And every country I have visited in the last 12 months with cities and dates. Yikes! That would take forever. In the end, I put Canada and France on their own lines and then I put all the African countries on another set of lines and just gave the date range for all those countries together. I had to say whether I've ever been convicted of a crime (no), if I've even been diagnosed with a serious mental illness (no), if I've ever tested positive for HIV, (no). Then I went back across the street and got copies of the filled out application. The guy even made one of the copies double sided and only charged me GH¢0.25 since I used one less piece of paper.

So, back to the embassy. The woman at the window let me in and I signed in and went to the lobby. I waited for a few minutes and a guy came out and sat next to me there in the waiting room. He looked over my application and asked questions about it. He asked if I had a reservation at the place I listed as my address in Nigeria. I told him no, that I planned to just show up. He asked what I would do if they were booked. I said I had a list of a lot of hotels and I would go to the various hotels until I found one. He asked if the money I said I had available--basically my bank account balance--would be carried in cash. No, I said, it's just available through ATMs. Then he said that for tourist visas he needed a photocopy of my vaccinations and a copy of my proof of insurance.

Oh boy. New requirements. I told him I'd have to get the insurance information off the internet. It was about 11:30 by now. I would have to return before 2pm or else wait until Thursday since they only accept applications before 2pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays. So I thanked him and headed out to find an internet cafe. I decided to give up on Tuesday and just started heading into town by taking the road that goes to Pig Farm from the Total station. Then there was a little hole in the wall internet cafe about a 1km from the Total station. So I popped in. I printed out my insurance information and browsed the web a little bit. Then back to the photocopy place. I got more copies of my vaccinations, and the insurance (it's good to have it on me anyway). Then back to the embassy. It was about 12:30 now. The woman at the window let me in and suggested I should dash her something on the way out. "Dash" is the Nigerian word for "tip". I went in and the same guy came out. I showed him all the new stuff I brought. I gave him my passport, pictures, all the photocopies, US$100, and he told me to come between 2 and 3 the next day. Whew! By far the most difficult visa application so far. Just 2 more to go--the 5 country Entente Touristique for Togo, Benin, and Niger, and the Cameroonian visa.
That done, I walked to Ryans Irish Pub in Osu. This took about an hour. It took a little finding since it's not on the main street in Osu. I had to shake off a few merchants but they were easy to shake off. One guy tried to sell me an Obama '08 bracelet. But I wasn't prepared to buy anything.

Once at Ryan's, I installed myself into a chair and got a draft Star and a big bottle of water. It was a nice refreshment after a few hours of walking in the hot African sun. When I left they didn't have one cedi notes, so they owe me GH¢3. I'll go back.

I was close to an upscale place called Monsoon that has sushi and cigars. Why the hell not? They weren't open yet but there was an internet cafe next door. I think the girl next to me was the one who was at the Cape Coast Castle Restaurant who avoided eye-contact with me. Then I went to the lounge and had a 3 hour conversation with a German guy who does microfinance promotion. We mostly talked about Obama. I had a bloody mary and switched to beer. That was fun. Then he headed off and I went into the sushi section. The chefs weren't Japanese. Oh well. And they had no tuna! Sushi without maguro? Hmm... I got a deluxe set which was pretty good. But I still wanted more so I got a shrimp nigiri and a salmon roll. Then the sushi bar section closes so I went back into the cocktail lounge. I asked to see the humidor. I got myself a nice Cuban Cohiba and smoked half of it. I'll save the other half for later. Now it was late and raining, so I got dinged on the cab ride home--GH¢5. But I made it home safe and sound. It was an expensive day--the visa, the drinks, the sushi, the cigar. But I need a day like that every once in a while.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008 7:53 Ghana local time

Get Well Stacey Waterman

My favorite travel blogger of all time, Stacey Waterman, had a run-in with an Egyptian pot of coffee. Pot of coffee 1, Stacey 0. She was hospitalized and had skin grafts surgically placed.

Stacey, we've never met, but I have been following your travel blog for a while. I love your style and your spirit. And I hope that you beat the battle with that coffee pot.

Next time you're in Vancouver, please give me a shout and we'll meet for a beer (not a coffee) with my traveling companion, Elena. We were in Essaouira around the same time as you were and probably have a lot to talk about.

Please take care of yourself. I look forward to reading more of your blogs.

BTW--I'm counting on the internet to get this to Stacey. I'm not sending it to her except in this general internet post. If you know her, please send her the link. :-)

Cape Coast, Ghana To Accra, Ghana

It was still dark when I woke up. I've been getting up early lately. I left soon after the first light. I headed towards the downtown where the buses and tro-tros to Accra were. But as soon as I hit the main road that goes along the coast south of my hotel, a guy saw me and shouted Accra? There is a little mini-station that services the west part of Cape Coast for cars to Accra. Cool. Only four more people to go, too. The ticket was GH¢5.50. The wait was about an hour and we departed at about 7:15. I was expecting a 3 hour trip, but we were there in about 2.5 hours. I tracked where we were on the map and when we were close to a traffic circle near the hotel I wanted to stay at, I got out. A cab took me the rest of the way to the Date Hotel.

The Date Hotel is about the only cheap hotel in Accra in Lonely Planet. A single is GH¢11.50 and that gets you a room with a fan and a single shared bathroom with a padlock. The keys are for the room and the padlock. So, the accommodation isn't luxury. Tomorrow I'll apply for my Nigerian visa. I'm not sure how that works. Usually Lonely Planet gives details like number of pictures needed and how long it takes. But not for Nigeria. I'll just have to see what's up when I get there.

I rested briefly and headed out to go to the ATM and internet cafe. I stopped at Funky's and got a beef meat pie and a chicken meat pie. They were so good! The Busy Internet cafe is on Central Ring road. It's pretty nice--a lot like the MouNa in Conakry. The only problems are that it's expensive--one hour for GH¢1.80, no Firefox, and you can't call up the Internet Options dialog to clear your browser history and cookies and stuff. It was good to check up on the election. Colin Powell endorsed Obama. Obama also had a record fundraising haul. A nice pickup that should blunt McCains recent 2 point pickup. I'm not too worried though. As long as the voters don't get complacent, the result should be positive. The real nail biters for me are the Minnesota Senate race and the Washington governor's race. I'd love to see Al Franken on the Senate floor in Paul Wellstone's place.

Well, after that I was thirsty and decided to check out the Vienna Entertainment Complex. I went into their bar. I was the only customer. It was warm and smelled like stale smoke. They only had small Stars but I'm glad because it wasn't that cold. And it was GH¢2. What a rip off. I'll never go there again. I was anxious to get out and I went to Wok Inn, a Chinese place. They had GH¢1.20 large Stars that were very nice and cold. Whew. Their food is salty so I had 2. I just sat there then thinking about stuff.

Monday, October 20, 2008 19:01 Ghana local time

Elmina Castle, The Fort, And The Cape Coast Castle Restaurant

I woke up early enough to go to the Ocean View internet cafe. They had a hard time getting their system up and running. Finally the guy just had to unlock a computer for me to use unclocked. I didn't abuse it. Sadly, their computers don't work with my email client so I can read but not respond to email. Elena, I got your email and I'm delighted you are having a good time in Nepal. :-)

It took me a long time to find the shared taxis to Elmina. My search was compounded by a huge NPP rally right about where I was looking (their elections are soon, too). But after some searching and asking around, I finally found the taxis. I arrived at 9:15. They wait until there are 4 people and then head to Elmina. We left at about 9:25. The cost is GH¢0.65. Cheap.

The guy in the front seat was going to the fort. I wasn't sure why. I arrived in Elmina in the shared cab. I wanted to stay in the cab until the end so that I could see where the cab back to Cape Coast took off from. The driver showed me the front of the church and said it leaves from there. I got out and he started shouting "Cape Cape Cape" from his window as he slowly made his way down the street.

There is a fort and a castle. It isn't obvious which is the fort and which is the castle. I assumed the one on the hill was the castle and the one on the water with all the cannons was the fort. Wrong. Oh well. I got 2 egg rolls on the way to the castle. They weren't that good. The meat pies are much better but there aren't as many meat pie vendors in these parts.

As I approached the castle, a guy came up and introduced himself. A guide, I presume. He asked my name. I told him. M-A-R-K? he asked. Yes, that's right. I often ask people with unusual names to spell them so it didn't strike me as odd. Actually, it strikes me as odd whenever I ask someone to spell their name. I think I'm the only one who ever asks people to do that. I don't know why. Maybe a holdover from Japan where people always want to know the Kanji that makes up a person's name. They then either write in on their hand or say a common word that has it. Anyway, it is usually important to me to know how to spell a name. Though, yesterday, I didn't ask Sara if it's Sarah or Sara. Sara is one name I usually let slide without asking. Ann/Anne too. Anyway, I told him I didn't need a guide. He said OK and told me to remember his name (I had already forgotten) and went back to where he came from. That was easy. Guides aren't usually so easy to shake.

So I went in and paid my GH¢7 and got rushed off to a tour that had just started. Mostly whites--several cute girls. The tour was interesting. It was calculated for maximum provoking of white guilt. We started out in the women's slave dungeon where women were kept awaiting the ships that would take them to the Americas. There was a staircase. The guide said that was the staircase the governor used to take up the women he raped. Then we went to the male slave holding area. Again, pretty bleak. Then we went to the "room of no return" which had the "door of no return"--the last doorway the slaves would ever traverse in Africa before being loaded onto ships. The guide did a little prayer for those who didn't make it.

So far, is wasn't too bad, but the next part of the tour, the guide sort of laid it on with a trowel. We went by the grave of a Dutch governor whose epitaph talks about how good a man he was (signed by a Dutch Protestant minister) even though there were slaves being shipped from there. We went to the prisoners' cells. First we went to the white cells for whites who needed to be punished. Well ventilated and relatively well lit. After that we went to the African "condemnation cell" next door over which there was a relief skull that didn't look particularly original to me. We went in and they closed the door so we could see how dark it was. The guide told us that they would place up to 30 men, who didn't understand why they were in the castle and fought to escape. They would let them starve to death and wouldn't open the door until every last one of them was dead.

We visited the Portuguese Catholic church (the guide said that the Portuguese "claim" they are Catholic) which was used as a junior officers' mess by the later Dutch and British holders of the castle. Of course, the guide pointed out the location of the slave dungeons in relation to the church. Next we went to the officer's mess which is right above the women's dungeon. So the guide reinforced how the officers ate and were jolly there while just under them the slaves were being kept. Then it was off to the board room. According the the guide, the main question to be asked in the board room: "How can we get more slaves?" Then off to the Dutch Reform Church room where there is a Psalm embedded into the wall that apparently says that God lives ONLY in this room. No where else in this castle--just in this room. Next we went to the governor's quarters. First we saw the governor's balcony across from the Dutch Reform Church. And what was this balcony used for? Why, for the governor to choose which female slaves he wanted to rape, of course. The guide pointed out that the church windows across the way had to be closed so that God couldn't see what the governor was doing. Next, we went into the first room of the governor's rooms. The first room had a trap door. This is above the female slave holding cell and the wooden staircase we saw in the first few minutes of the tour leads to this trapdoor. This is where the soldiers brought the women to be raped by the governor (and occasionally partook themselves). Next we went to the rooms where the governor lived, and raped the women. And with that the tour was over.

First, I want to stress that I don't deny the horror that was the African Atlantic slave trade. It was dehumanizing and among the worst crimes perpetuated by one set of races on another set of races. The chattel form of slavery where the people who become slaves have no human rights is the worst form of slavery. But that said, I just find it hard to believe that the abuses described by the guide was a normal part of life in this castle. I will definitely reread Hugh Thomas's The Slave Trade. He draws on pretty much every fragmentary piece of primary source material there is and describes the trade in detail. And Elmina is a huge portion of his book. Maybe the type of atrocities described by the guide actually happened and if they did, I'm sure I'll find it. But otherwise, I can't help but think it is speculation. I doubt if the Ghana tourism board found the trap door and stair case or if they did, it was after the castle was remodeled long after the slave trade ended and didn't serve that purpose at all. I hate to doubt their scholarship, but until I see letters or diary entries that substantiate these claims, they are just too much for me to believe. Frankly, the tour cheapened the experience. The reality is horrible already. They don't have to stretch the truth to make it sound worse.

Anyway, after the tour, I checked out the museum and then the restaurant attached to the castle where I had nice beer. Two girls came and sat at a neighboring table. I think they were German.

I left the castle grounds. The guy who I easily shook off as a guide after he asked the spelling of my name shouted to me. I waved and carried on. He ran up to me. "I have a present for you" he said presenting me with a clam shell with "To: Mark" written on it in blue magic marker. The marker was still in his hand. Ah, so that's why he confirmed the spelling of my name on my way in. But I know the "give present--leverage reciprocal obligation" trick. I started encountering that one at the beginning of my trip in Dakar. I refused to take it. He tried to get me to take it again, but I was having none of this trick. Then he whipped out a piece of paper for his school soliciting donations. I didn't take the time to read it so I didn't see if they had a "help the local destitute" clause. I refused to make a donation to his school. Boy oh boy. If guilty white people are easy pickings at Cape Coast where African middle men shared the blame for the slave trade, imagine the easy pickings in Elmina after hearing about the governor's rape-orgy.

Next I headed up to the Fort St. Jago. I am out of shape so I was tired when I reached the top. The guy from the taxi was the door man. He charged me GH¢4 which I'm not convinced is the correct price but could be. The fort is really just an empty fort with nothing worth seeing inside. There are no descriptions, no anything. You just look at the views through the holes in the wall. Then you're done. So, I went back down and went to the church. A tro-tro was there. The guy shouted "Cape Cape Cape". I got on. We were a third full and I thought we'd have a long wait, but they pick up people along the way, so they don't wait until they are full. We left right after I boarded. I got back right around noon. So I did Elmina as a morning trip from Cape Coast.

I went to the Castle Restaurant and ordered a beer and a cheese burger. During my first beer, a family came in. Not sure what country. They fit the profile of many families here--old parents accompanied by smokin' hot daughters. They were blonde and maybe 19 or 20. The one with the long hair kept looking at me. I had my Cormac McCarthy La Route out where they could read the title. I don't suppose Cormac McCarthy impresses women. I guess it shouldn't. Women have no more business reading Cormac McCarthy than people under 30 have reading Joseph Conrad. The parents each had a beer and the daughters had Coca-Colas. They all ate. Then they left. I ordered another beer.

A pretty white woman came in. She sat at the table across from mine. We were facing each other. She specifically avoided any eye contact with me at all. Why? Why would he sit across from me facing me and then totally avoid eye contact. She looked out at the ocean. She looked at everything except me. She was a bit older--maybe her 30's but she was also drinking a Coca-Cola. I was trying to work the courage to talk to her. After all, I avoid eye contact with women I like when I'm out. Then some food came. Ah ha! She knows this place--she didn't get a menu, read it, and place an order--she ordered immediately upon entering. She's a local expat. She ate moving her eyes from the food to the ocean making sure they never got anywhere near me. Talk to her or not?

I decided to read a couple of paragraphs in La route. Her Coke was half full and she was only half done eating. It was the paragraphs where he lays out the contents of his wallet, including the picture of his wife, and leaves them in the road. Then later, he wishes that he could have kept part of her with him.

I looked up after reading those 3 paragraphs. The table was empty. No half drunk Coke, no plate, no pretty white woman in her 30's. I looked behind me to the road leading from the restaurant. Not there. I looked at the register area--there she was settling her bill. She then left. I was disappointed. I ordered another beer.

Soon after she left, the two smokin' hot blonde girls who were with their parents before came in and sat at her 2 seat table. The one I could see--with the short hair--had beautiful shoulders, black bras straps, and a white Lululemon style shirt that said GinaTricot where the Lululemon logo would be if it were Lululemon. They were there for about 20 minutes when their mom came in. I felt sorry for them. It's not like the place was crawling with hot men they wanted to impress, still their mother isn't exactly the type of mom a 20 year old girl points to and says, "that's what I'll look like in 20 years." I'm sure they wanted to enjoy their time sans parents. Then their dad came and they settled the bill and left.

That's when I noticed a girl--about 25 sitting alone facing the ocean just watching the surf beat against the rocks. She was there for a while. I read a bit and sipped my beer and tried to figure out what to say if I worked up the courage to talk to her. I settled on this: "The amazing thing about the surf is that as soon as one wave disappears, another one is there to take its place. And each one is a little bit different so it never gets boring." I was rehearsing that in my head. I didn't know what to say after that, but the few times in my life I actually got the courage to talk to a woman in a bar, she has always worked with me to make it as unawkward as possible--which is a nice feature of women in bars that I never take advantage of. I am no good at it. After all, what do I know about this woman other than I'd like to sleep with her? Nothing. I know exactly that one thing about her. Anyway, as I was trying to figure out how to get the whole line out under with the nerves of trying to deliver such a line, she got up and went to settle her bill.

Fuck, I'm such a loser. Sometimes I think I deserve to die alone.

Sunday, October 19, 2008 20:30 Ghana local time

Takoradi To Cape Coast And Cape Coast Castle

After a night watching CSI: New York, but with Detective Cain from CSI: Miami followed by The Punisher, I had a nice night in a cool room. It was nice to have AC.

In the morning I packed up and started toward the Cape Coast tro-tro yard. Fortunately, I was about a third there when a tro-tro driver shouted at me "Cape Coast?" Yep! I boarded. An hour and GH¢2.30 later, we were in Cape Coast. They let me off and I hopped into a taxi to go to the Oasis Guest House. The driver wouldn't come down from GH¢2 but I tried. The driver tried to convince me to see Kakum National Park. Finally we arrived.

So I entered. Then, the unexpected. They didn't have any cheap rooms left. Yikes! Is it tourist season? I'm used to being able to get the room I want. They had the bungalows for 32GH¢ (20GH¢ in Lonely Planet). Too high. I left and found a cab. Again, he charged me GH¢2 to take me to my second choice Sammo Guest House. I guess GH¢2 must be the white price. Or maybe the baggage loaded white price. Anyway, I got there and they have a nice room with private bathroom and shower for GH¢12 per night. Whew! I even got some laundry done for a somewhat high GH¢5. But it resets my laundry count back to zero.

I headed to the Cape Coast Castle. Entrance is GH¢7. They have a nice museum which I toured. The museum is definitely geared to Americans--especially black Americans interested in their lost history. There were a few people in the museum when I was there, but they all left early while I finished up looking at all the exhibits. I realized why later on when I went back to do the tour. They were already on the tour. So I just waited for the next one. It was actually a good plan because the first tour was a crowd of 20 people, and there was nobody left for another tour. So I got a private tour from a woman named Matilda. It is nicer to get a one-on-one tour.

She showed me the rooms where the slaves were kept between when they were brought to the fort by local middlemen and when they were loaded onto the Atlantic slavers. I read a bit about how it worked in Hugh Thomas's The Slave Trade. I want to try to reread in with a little more context this time.

When I left the castle, a bunch of men tried to show me their wares. Not interested. An artist showed me his paintings but gave up pretty easily. Another guy showed me an official looking paper soliciting donations for a local soccer team. It had the mission statement and spaces for the name, email, donated amount, etc. One slot already had a name. They need money to 1) buy equipment 2) buy first aid kits and 3) aid the local destitute. I figured the donations would all go to cause #3 and that the "local destitute" was themselves. So I didn't donate anything. As merchants and con-men, these guys are amateurs. I suppose white people coming from a slave entrepôt are easy pickings for black shysters so they just don't have to try that hard. A lot of the whites in Cape Coast appear to be tourists in Africa for the first time. I paid a lot of "tuition" learning the merchant/hustler ropes and I'm still paying it more than I'd like to.

I went to the Castle Restaurant next door and got myself a late breakfast beer. Two young white people sat at the table next to me. The guy asked how the beer was. I replied not as cold as I'd like but colder than I've had. A couple of Peace Corps volunteers--Matt from AK and Sara from AL. We chatted for a while. They are computer and math teachers.

They left after a while and I left too to try to find the two forts up on the hills. I had to get by the soccer guy whose donation sheet went from 1 sucker to 2 suckers. I saw the forts, but couldn't find the path to get up. In the end, they aren't big and you can't enter them, so I just gave up. I needed a bit of a nap anyway.

When I woke up, I went to the rooftop of the Sammo Guest House which is supposed to be a bar restaurant, but there was nobody working there. Eventually, I gave up and went back to the Oasis Guest House bar which promised to be a bit more lively.

And it was. Of course, I just sat there reading La route. A local girl was sitting across from me at the circular bar. Another artist came in but I wasn't interested and he gave up. I like this non-persistence. The soccer donation guy came in and recognized me. He showed me his donation list, now up to about 10 suckers, and asked one last time. I told him he already asked and I already answered. Then he leaned in and made another offer--a nice sweet local Cape Coast girl for the night. Interesting offer. But, no, not interested. I chatted briefly with a medical worker from OH. The light eventually started to give way, and soon it was too dark to read. The girl at the other side of the bar came across. She had most likely seen my rejection of the soccer guy's pimping services. We chatted for a while. She is a systems engineering student named Jennifer. She eventually was met by a guy friend of hers and I took the opportunity to come back to my hotel. I got a bit lost, but the locals helped me out by showing me the shortest way from where I was.

Friday, October 18, 2008 20:33 Ghana local time