The plane touched down in Accra around 9:30 or so…about an hour late, but according to the BA steward, this was to be expected. A few people mumbled that the LHR to ACC flights rarely made it on time as expected, but this time it was the weather’s fault not the airline’s. When Ginny met me at the airport’s entrance, it was fantastic. Like falling in love all over again in a matter of seconds. She and I shared a quick meal at the airport’s Chinese restaurant—talk about a surreal welcome to Africa—and jumped into a taxi to Ginny’s hostel: the Kingdom International. Despite Ginny’s best attempts to describe the place, I was still a little surprised. “Sparse” would be the best way I could describe it—her room consisted of a bed, a closet, a fan, an A/C Unit, a mini-fridge, and a toilet and a shower in a cramped bathroom. I realize I’m being a little harsh, but it reminded me of my first dorm room in college. After nearly 18 hours in transit, the first thing I wanted was a shower to cleanse me of the grime that comes with intercontinental travel, but I quickly realized that Gin’s shower came with two temperatures: cold or “mind-numbingly cold.” I opted for the cold shower and managed to remove at least a layer or two of dirt before my teeth started chattering and I couldn’t take it anymore. Gin and I spent the next two hours talking—both of us excited to see each other, until finally Ginny forced me to turn off the lights and go to sleep. It was nearly 1:00 a.m. in Ghana, but my body still thought it was 9:00 EST.
We spent the next two days exploring Ghana’s capital city, Accra. Of course, Ginny had already spent close to four weeks in the city and so her experience made her the perfect tour guide. Together we visited all of Ginny’s favorite haunts—the School of Public Heath at the University of Ghana in Legon, the campus canteen restaurant (where I had my first truly Ghanaian dish called “Red-Red”, more on this later), the Accra Mall where Ginny and I chatted together via Skype, and one of her favorite “western” restaurants called “Cuppa Cappuccino.” I could see why she liked it: they actually made real coffee. It sounds strange to say because Africa produces such great quality coffee, but the Ghanaian people seem to be addicted to Nescafé —the Nestle powered coffee drink. It’s as disappointingly bad as it sounds. Imagine coffee flavored milk chocolate flavored Ovaltine and you’re close to what Nescafé is like. Needless to say, it was refreshing to see the freshly ground coffee emanating from Cuppa Cappuccino but I wussed out and opted for the “Ginger Refresher.”
We wandered around Accra, both of us happy to be together and excited to explore a foreign city. Ginny had already visited some of the locations we would be travelling to, but I don’t think she had had the chance to actually be a “tourist” yet. We drove past the presidential palace—sorry, pictures are forbidden and there’s no tour of the grounds just yet. We drove to a part of town called James Town and walked as close to the ocean as possible. Steep cliffs kept us from the water (which might not have been such a bad thing) and watched some of the local fishermen plying their trade.Earlier that morning, I decided to wear my Liverpool shirt. As we walked around downtown Accra, I heard shouts of “You’ll Never Walk Alone” (the Liverpool motto) from the local Reds supporters. I also got plenty of glares from the local Chelsea and Manchester United fans. Soccer jerseys are worn by everyone from children to grown men—the most common seem to be those with Ghanaian ties. Michael Essien, one of Ghana’s most notable stars, is a Chelsea player so his jersey is everywhere. I don’t know if Liverpool has tapped up any of Ghana’s future stars, but I know they could generate lots of goodwill if they did.
Chelsea fans aside, the people of Ghana are incredibly welcoming. Everyone smiles and says “hello.” Sometimes they follow their hellos up with a simple “How?” meaning “How are you?” Ginny warned me about this bit of brevity, but it still is surprising the first time you hear it. Ginny also cautioned me about the local cuisine, but I’ve actually really enjoyed it. “Red-Red” is essentially a dish of black-eyed peas cooked in red palm oil (thus the name) served with chicken and fried plantains. Sound strange, perhaps, but I think it’s delicious. There’s also a dish served with palava sauce (that’s basically spinach, tomatoes, and some filler) that’s also very tasty. But, finding local cuisine is actually harder than you might imagine.* Ethnic restaurants abound in Accra—Indian, Chinese, Western places that serve sandwiches and pizzas. We even found a “Chicken Inn” which serves grilled chicken sandwiches similar to those at Chick-Fil-A back home in the states. Again, surreal but certainly enjoyable.
I’m going to draw this post to a close, but hopefully Ginny will allow me to “guest blog” again soon. We’ve left the capital city and begun travelling around the country, so there certainly is a lot more to write about—the question is just whether or not Ginny will give me the space on her blog! Thanks for reading… -JMB
*Editorial note by Ginny: Finding local cuisine is not at all difficult…I’m just tired of it, therefore I refuse to let Jesse eat EVERY meal in a shanty as he’s wont to do.
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