On our way, we encountered the best worst public toilet I've ever seen. It was connected to a petrol station and the owners were kind enough to let us use it. 'Inside', the concrete slanted sort of down into a sort of hole, but not really. Flies and weird bugs loitered around the 'hole'. The best part, however, was the partition between female and male toilets--it was a short wall. Thus, you could wave up/across to the man/boy peeing literally next to you. It was a feat of engineering brilliance!
Our driver, Clement and our Ghanaian tour guide accompanied us. He engaged us in a debate/argument/guilt trip on the evils of slavery before we made it to our first stop:
Stop One: Elmina Castle
photo courtesy of google
the city of Elmina
Before we got inside the castle, we were met by a series of touts who pressured us into buying their goods using a series of tactics guilting us for our skin colour and nationalities. It was very uncomfortable but I'm not sure the attitude was much different once we got inside.
Our tour included a lesson on the sordid history of the castle, which was founded by the Portuguese in 1482. The castle eventually changed hands to the Dutch and then the British until Ghana's independence in 1957. The slave trade ended under Dutch rule in 1814 but the scars remain.
The castle was often the final holding place for slaves being sent to The New World--mainly Brazil and other Portuguese colonies. Both Europeans and Africans took part in the slave trade--with some African chiefs and locals bartering their people for goods the Europeans provided.
Conditions inside were harsh--with darkened cells and pits for solitary confinement in the lower regions and palace-like rooms for the regiments housed there in the upstairs of the castle. Slaves passed through 'The Door of No Return' in their final journey across the unpredictable Atlantic.
I suppose it's hard to get any kind of positive feeling from an experience like this, and I suppose resentment is a justifiable emotion for the locals to feel, but Elmina was by far the most hostile place we encountered on our trip. It felt like many of the locals were so caught up in the past that they struggled to move on in the present. Easy for me to say, I suppose...
Stop Two: Coconut Grove Beach Resort
In stark contrast, we stopped twenty minutes up the road for lunch at a restaurant that could accommodate the size of our party. We drove through a minefield of golf karts, a golf course and a genuine alligator pit. The resort is owned by one of Ghana's wealthy magnates whose name currently escapes me.
We were met by a group of Ghanaian businessmen who were impressed we knew their snap clap handshake and a stunning stretch of white sand that went on and on and on. The restaurant served a series of delightful Ghanaian food that I opted against--the Dramamine was starting to catch up with me.
Stop Three: Hans Botel (aka the hotel with the alligator pit)
If I were feeling better I think I would've enjoyed Hans Botel a whole lot more. A village made of wood was built above a pit filled with alligators adjacent to a bird park filled with little yellow chirpy things. I saw this briefly before passing out in my hotel room with the Olympics on the tv. I woke up three hours later and tried to walk down to dinner which induced lots of sweating and stomach cramps. I opted for mint tea instead.
yellow birds and their crazy nests
Hans Botel's leading resident
part of the wooden village
I woke up the next morning feeling much better and passed the digestive pyrotechnics to another member of the team. Over the course of the two weeks, each of us would have a little bout with what we coined 'New Mexico'. I guess you had to be there.
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