Rachael came back! It was fab! Here are the photos, I'm writing a book about the rest of the trip so will publish it when I've finished!

After waiting for the best part of an hour, playing “guess which one is Rachael” with myself as I saw people’s midriffs in the window as they came through customs and mistaking several young girls and a middle aged man for Rach, watching the pilot, the other pilot and a team of air hostesses come through and then leave the airport, Rach finally appeared! I took her to my poor taxi man, who had been waiting in the car park with his small girl sleeping in the back of the taxi.

We spent a night at the infamous “Hotel St George” and spent Monday morning changing money and trying to locate “Benal” for whom I had been given a mysterious package to hand over urgently.

We checked into our hotel in Elmina where a rather serious receptionist gave us a choice of room – double or twin – warning us that whichever we chose, we would have to share the bathroom facilities with whoever was in the other room… little did we know about the curse we seem to have put on most hotels in Ghana…

A short walk from the hotel was a little spot, where you could grab a plastic chair and look out over the golden sand and palm trees and look at the sea… why would you want to go anywhere else…

Tuesday morning found us strolling along the beach, paddling in the sea and looking out on to Elmina Castle in the distance. We found our way up to the castle, assured the army of Ghanaian men that, no, we did not need any help, and went on a (somewhat incomprehensible) tour of the castle, which had passed hands between the Dutch, Portuguese and British and was used as a short-medium term holding place for millions of slaves throughout the 17th-19th centuries.

We then visited another Fort. On our arrival, the elderly man, sleeping on a bench, got up, welcomed us with a warm smile, and went over to sit at his official desk. As he related the history of the fort to us, he put on his trousers then his shirt, spending much time fastening the cuffs, pulled on his socks (no shoes), and then took us on a tour of “his” fort – which I really believed he had as much affection for had it been his own home. We showed us all of the nicest views, advised us on all the prime photo taking spots around “his” fort, and told us to climb up a rather rickety ladder to his “wow” tower – so called as everyone says wow when they see it, as we too did.

He had pointed out a graveyard on a hill, so we then went up to check it out.

As we sat, catching our breath and watching some of Ghana’s finest sheep-goats stare at us, a man came along, introduced himself as the priest of the church, and asked us about our travels. After a few minutes of chatting, he said to me “so this is your daughter?!” Rachael erupted with laughter while I tried to explain that it was my friend, not my daughter, and Rachael spent the next hour making fun of her “mother”.

Karma… haha.

We walked back along the beach to our hotel, paddling in the sea and trying to avoid the many children that wanted us to “snap” them. All of a sudden, a rather large wave passed us, and as Rachael jumped away from it, dropped her sandal. The sea, clearly vying for me after the priest incident, decided to steal Rachael’s sandal as I tried not to laugh too much!! The receptionist didn’t bat an eyelid as we later walked into the hotel after our walk down the beach and then road, me fully sandaled and Rach in her bare feet!

We had a lovely meal that evening at Mabel’s Table – delicious fish and interesting pizza – while watching the most beautiful sunset 

Despite my ridiculous optimism, our early morning walk along the beach was fruitless, so we had to leave Elmina later that morning minus a sandal.

The next part of our journey, to Butre, was rather complicated and not particularly clear, and we did wonder how long it would take to get from Elmina to Takoradi, Takoradi to Angona and then Angona to Butre. But we did not give the Ghanaian tro service nearly enough credit.

We explained to our taxi driver that we wanted to go to Takoradi, and assumed that we would be waiting round Elmina for an undefined amount of time, probably at least an hour or so. This was not to be. We didn’t even get as far as the main tro stop when the taxi driver made a gesture out of the window, speaking Ghanaian Transport Sign Language, stopped the taxi, grabbed our bags and bundled us into a nearby tro. We were off.

The hour or so journey to Takoradi took us through lovely lush green countryside, quite different to the barren north. The tro assistant/money taker/bag organiser/passenger finder asked us where we wanted dropped off, so we said that the tro station. A look of confusion came over his face, so I said “lorry park”, (another way of saying tro station). He shouted to the driver, who turned around as if to say “you want dropped where?!” However, the tro driver and assistant, ever the helpful Ghanaians, stopped several people and asked, and a friendly man named Leonard, who used to be in the British army, helped us out and directed us to the tro station, giving me his phone number (and not asking for my number – unusual) and saying to call if we had any trouble on our travels.

On our arrival in Agona, we spent much time haggling with the taxi driver to get a taxi to Ghana Spirit for 10 cedi – as advised by the man at Ghana Spirit. Unfortunately, we didn’t realise that that would mean that the taxi driver would decide to drop us a little further from our destination than we expected – a very long 20 minutes ensued while we trudged along the beach at midday carrying far too much luggage, accompanied by two children who took our lighter bags and then hung around until we gave them some coins.

It was definitely worth the wait though. Golden sand, palm trees, beach huts, comfy sofas and a gorgeous view out onto the water – couldn’t ask for much more! Oh and no other guests (again).

Our first meal at Ghana Spirit was the only slightly disappointing thing about our whole visit. After over 30 minutes, we got our slightly soggy corned beef sandwiches. The cook/waiter/receptionist apologised for the delay, and explained that the fridge was in Butre (where we’d been dropped in the taxi) so they’d had to go and fetch the ingredients after we ordered!!

On Thursday morning, we set out very early on a boat trip where we’d been promised to see crocodiles, alligators and monkeys. We walked along the beach, passing two or three sets of men tugging on what looked like tug of war ropes. We later learned that the ropes were attached to each other, and were used to bring in fish.

We got to the boats and were told to wait while our guide got the boat ready. Rach and I played guess the boat, for once reversing the optimist/pessimist roles we normally take on, with me assuming the rickety old boat in the corner was ours, and Rach opting for the brightly painted blue one. Unfortunately I was right. The boat was brought over and our guide collected a bowl... which he used to scoop out the water from INSIDE the boat before we got in.

Our trip went on, and we saw fish, heard birds, and then stopped at the side for something. Our guide got out, rolled up his trousers and walked around on the muddy bank, occasionally putting his hand in the mud, apparently trying to scoop something out – perhaps he had lost something, maybe he was looking for gold?! We sat, sweating, thirsty and sun-burning, wondering when the trip would end and more than a little tempted to take off without him. We then noticed hundreds of tiny crabs... not quite what we were expecting. After a very long 5 minutes, our guide returned to the boat slightly annoyed at not having found whatever it was that he was looking for – a large crab I assume.

The rest of the day was spent eating the AMAZING breakfast of chocolate pancakes and banana, reading books on the sand, visiting Butre and paddling in the sea and eating far too much lovely food.

On the Friday, we travelled back to Cape Coast, very much looking forward to our stay at the “Savoy Hotel” – which was, on arrival, not quite what I’d pictured – I’m sure it was nice 15 years ago, when there were lightbulbs on the stairs and the staring statues had been dusted once in a while. We ate at Cape Coast Castle Restaurant, again gorgeous seafood, and drank cocktails in a bar on the beach.

We got up far too early on Saturday to make our way to Kakum National Park, a park an hour inland of Cape Coast with treetop canopy walks through the rainforest. I must admit I was rather anxious about being very high up on a swinging rope bridge, but put on a brave face and agreed to go along.

When we arrived, a little later than planned, there were few visitors and so I assumed the kindly VSO advice of “get there early” was just a malicious ploy to get me out of bed at 6am – there weren’t ten people there! We had to wait a while for a tour to start so got our morning caffeine fix in a nice wooden hut of a restaurant. Then, just as we got up to start our walk, a large crowd of 20 or 30 excitable Ghanaians appeared from nowhere and joined us on the walk. We decided that positioning ourselves at the back was the best bet so that we could take our time, avoid those who like to play on the nerves of those of us not so fond of heights by bouncing on the delicate rope bridges and try our hand at some Glamour-ous photography! This plan was somewhat scuppered when a group of school children came up in the group behind us, but we enjoyed the trip nonetheless and got a few Glamour-ous shots in here and there. We then opted for a forest walk, again worrying that we must be giving off some rather negative vibes to the Ghanaian public as we – yes, only Rachael and I – joined our guide. He took us on a pleasant tour of the forest, pointing our medicinal trees and showing us how to listen for birds. We saw a really big tree (biggest in the south of Ghana/Ghana/West Africa/the world?? – not sure) and then at the end, took us to see the camping spot for those brave enough to stay overnight. Or at least, he tried to. Unfortunately the path was blocked, so Rachael with her ever-impressive sense of direction, led us out of the deep forest, passing what she thought to be a rather dangerous snake and kindly not pointing it out to me. (Turns out it was a centipede!)

Coming back to reception, we realised that our kindly VSO advice had, in fact, been spot on – literally hundreds of holidaying Ghanaians had appeared in the subsequent couple of hours, and we were very glad to have got there early.

We left Kakum and took a tro to Hans Cottage Botel which had been recommended as a nice lunch spot by Anthony and Laura. And it was, very nice food, crocodiles to watch and we left just in time to avoid the hoards of Ghanaians that seemed now to be chasing us!
We had dinner that night at a lovely chop bar come spot very near Cape Coast Castle. Chic Hebs owned by Henrietta, a very colourful, voluptuous local, who was absolutely delighted when she realised that Rachael was Rachael Duncan, her sister having a vague connection to the Duncan clan, and insisted on several photos in front of her chop bar. The food was delicious, though the portions enormous!

Our final day in Cape Coast took us back to Cape Coast Cafe for brunch: a nice new place run by a slightly crazy guy who asked me and Rachael our business advice – what we liked, what we didn’t like, whether the prices were fair. Definitely one for the Bradt guide, superb food.

We spent the afternoon with a rather excitable group of Ghanaians looking round Cape Coast Castle, which was not as pretty as Elmina but with a much more comprehensive tour guide! It was the day after Independence Day, and there were hundreds of locals enjoying the sea.

We enjoyed a second cocktail at the Oasis Restaurant bar, and another delicious meal at Cape Coast Castle Restaurant, took photos on the beach and bought oranges from little Florence who had befriended us each time we’d gone onto the beach.

On Monday morning, not feeling so well (AVOID SALAD RACHEL!), we returned to the STC station to catch a bus back to Accra. Unfortunately, Monday being a public holiday and not having been able to book onto the bus before, we had to take a tro back to Accra – a surprisingly nice journey with a nice through breeze and many helpful locals keeping us right.

After a bit of an argument with a taxi driver with a sense of direction akin to mine who wanted us to pay him extra money because he got lost and took longer to find the hotel than expected, we came across a rather strange phenomenon... other guests in a hotel! Yes, that’s right, the curse lifted, there were OTHER PEOPLE sharing a hotel with us. Extraordinary.

We had been unable to book into the Afia African Village Guest House, so we decided to treat ourselves to dinner there, very much worth it even if it was comfort food of tomato soup and ice-cream for my poor tummy!

Our final morning took us on a long walk around Accra, and then to the Cultural Centre craft market – and many very pushy vendors – oh how I like the salesmen in Bolga. After a very long taxi ride to secure me a bus ticket for the following morning, we treated ourselves to a swim at the Shangri-la before heading to the airport and putting Rach on her plane (sniff).

Super super holiday, nice tan, great chat and so relaxing.

Fancy a visit?