After breakfast in bed, of toast with strawberry jam and coffee, Akatsi was our first stop – nothing worth mentioning there.
Visited a project at Xayi – a 6km drive down one of the worst roads we've experienced so far, to a hut with photos of sites to be seen in the area. Like baobab trees... snakes... birds.... sunsets.... that was about it, actually. I didn't get much info on the place, I was sitting outside watching a mad hen run round and round a tree...
Sogakape didn't have much; we wanted to get to Ada Foah as soon as we could to find our paradise for the next three days. In retrospect we should have settled for The Holy Trinity, a bright green health spa which offers everything from massages and yoga to dental work and plastic surgery! The rooms were good, not too expensive, and it was on the Volta River with good views.
It was getting late and we still hadn't found a hotel... everything we'd seen was pretty awful. We eventually decided to splurge, and stay at the Manet Hotel, for 80USD per room – way beyond our price range but as I said, we were desperate! We had been there earlier to get notes for Kim's book, and the manager had seemed reasonably obliging, when we eventually got to speak to him, that is. The front-line staff just looked at us gormlessly when we asked to see him, by name, as prearranged by Kim via email.
But when we returned to book a room, the attitude of the front-desk people was so awful that we just left! I had to leave a parting shot, “We need to stay somewhere that has good service, for the book we are writing.” Not that they cared.... I may as well said "I like the colour red" in Italian...
I had spotted a little signboard down the road pointing to Mayekom Guest House, so we investigated, and were greeted with the biggest welcoming smile by Joyce! 6Cd per room – we had one each, and a really good supper. Joyce even put mozzie coils down under our table for us so at least our feet were saved from the little buggers...! The accommodation was very basic – a bed with a ditch in the middle of it, a fan, and one toilet/shower room for the whole place.
We met some Maranatha Beach Camp volunteers from Australia and Northern Ireland (identified by their yellow Maranatha T-Shirts). Chatted a bit, then organised for a boat to come and pick us up first thing the next morning. Maranatha is run by the same guy, Joe, as Emancipation beach. The proceeds from guests go straight to a school set up next door. The volunteers are the teachers.
I was woken up at 3am, thinking someone had left a tv on rather loud, and there was a discussion going on between some very pompous African politicians. This guy was trying to get a word out and was battling... he kept getting as far as "The.... eh............ The.... eh.......... The ......eh....." over and over, til I realised that even a doddering old fool couldn't be that bad and decided that it must be the bullfrog outside my window. My word..... did it go on and on! And then it was joined by others and they had a great debate out there! Had internet connection on my phone, and couldn't resist putting in a Facebook update about it. (I heard later that day that Bob Mugabe had been admitted to hospital in the Middle East, so it wasn't him playing out there in the swamps...)
Decided on breakfast before shower – I find that oats porridge warms me up nicely in preparation for a cold shower! I didn't bank on the weevils in my porridge though, had a serious sense of humour failure at that moment. Oh, and to make things worse, the ants attacked my M&Ms!!!!! Disaster! Ok so temptation had got the better of me, clearly, and they would have melted anyway, so I just had a few... i really was going to take the rest home if they didn't melt..... So I went to the little shop next door and bought some ginger biscuits and peanuts as an attempt at consolation...
Called for our boat taxi, "We'll be there to pick you up in 5 minutes" was the reply. Well, as we all know, time in Africa moves really slowly... so an hour later we were on our way. A short walk to the river bank, and onto a brightly coloured wooden motor boat. An invitation from the driver (is that what you call the guy who starts up the engine and steers?) to cuddle up next to him, which I felt only proper to refuse, and we set off. We phut-phut-phutted out into the middle of the river, passing huge holiday mansions with yachts right next door to poor villages of straw houses and broken down but brightly coloured fishing boats. It just left me cold, actually, the wealth flaunted next to the poverty.Ten minutes later, and we pulled up onto the beach of the Maranatha Beach Camp. That's it, a beach, palm trees, and grass huts. Oh, and a bar... and a compost toilet with a pretence of a door, and a closed off area with a bucket for washing..... Oh yay, yet another day of feeble hygiene attempts! The kind of place I would have been very excited about staying at for a long weekend with a group of friends... back in my twenties! I must be after a different sort of excitement now.
I would recommend a stay there, definitely! The proceeds are given straight to the little school that has been set up on the campsite, and the volunteers are the teachers. We met one of them this evening – I didn't get her name, but she's a 20 year old twin, from Scarborough, UK, who is studying law at Newcastle. She wanted to give her time and she found an agency that doesn't charge the volunteers a fortune, and came here for five weeks.
A few more guests arrived, I think they're Spanish. Early night, early rise (it's a long walk to the toilet, in the dark, so was waiting for sunrise. Ever heard crabs scratching away at your door, walls and bed posts??).
