Cape Coast

10/18-19/08

Once we had Denise all drugged up, we gathered our things from the hotel and took a taxi to the STC station. Usually when you wait for a tro-tro or any other bus, you are waiting for an undefined amount of time, hopefully gazing down the road anticipating the arrival. This is referred to as Africa Time. STC busses are the only busses in Ghana that actually start off on Real Time (with designated departure times), and eventually move to Africa Time throughout the day. STC busses happen to run regularly between Accra and Cape Coast. Denise handed the woman at the ticket counter our money with her left hand. The woman called this out to our attention, explaining that we were in Ghana and in Ghana you use your right hand to give or receive anything. We stood corrected. The bus ride was long—about 3 ½ hours, but thankfully it was air conditioned!

Our hotel in Cape Coast has now earned the title of the most disgusting hotel I’ve ever stayed in. The toilet was supposed to be able to flush but did not. The bathroom itself was filthy, with dirt and crud all over the floor. The bathroom light didn’t work and the door didn’t close. We did have a ceiling fan which seemed to blow hot air, so that was a bust. A grubby torn pillowcase did not cover the gray and lumpy “pillow” that was supplied, and the sheet was crawling with ants and beetles. You get the idea. At $6 a person, I guess you get what you pay for. I hope I don’t have the plague now. Needless to say, I didn’t sleep well because of the conditions, not to mention Denise (who was still very sick) and I had to share the double bed.

After setting our stuff down we attempted to walk around town. This led us toward the beach where a group of fisherman were tying lines and occupying themselves with the fishing boats beached on the sand. The beach is nice where the tide comes in, but as soon as you step above where the water would hit, you can’t put your foot down without stepping on some piece of trash. Anything you could imagine to be thrown away was littered all over the beach.

We managed to find Oasis—a restaurant further into town, owned by a German-Turkish lady. We sat outside and I actually began to feel like we were on vacation. An open-air arena was right next door and seemed to be setting up for some type of performance. A tall guy with short braids came over to greet us, asking if we were American. He was really nice and easy on the eyes as well. He introduced himself as a musician in the performance tonight and asked if we’d be around for it. We made small conversation and eventually he left us to our meal. The salty air was relaxing and I watched the dusk sky turn the palm trees into dark silhouettes, and then I watched the moonlight illuminate the right sides of the leaves and trunks. You could see so many stars—it was really beautiful. Denise was feeling extremely tired from the day of travel and her medication so we grabbed a taxi back to the hotel, sharing it with two Belgian girls who were in Cape Coast for the week on vacation from their volunteer placement in Togo.

In general, the locals in Cape Coast were not very pleasant, calling out “obruni” and yelling at us. Sometimes children will come up and grab our hands just out of curiosity but here, young adults—easily around 20 years old—would grab our arms, and one of them (a girl) even grabbed Denise’s backside. However, we are always impressed with the kindness of certain strangers. A young boy, about age 10 maybe, walked us through the city to show us where to catch a tro-tro to go to Kakum National Park the next day.