|One thing I think I keep forgetting to mention about travelling through Africa so far is the music. The soundtrack to this trip from small towns to the backs of dusty taxis and buses has been fantastic, the music in Ghana is pants! I'm being inflicted with "Jesus is lovely, we're all lovely, we all love Jesus" smarm all day every day. Never has the mp3 function on my mobile been more used.
Anyone for another bus story? I thought not, I'll make this one brief. After the ridiculous 4am start from Mole we made it back to Tamale by 8:30 that morning and found that there was a CTS bus leaving for Kumasi at 10:30. Along with Patrick the Canadian I managed to get the last 2 seats on this bus then sat around in the station waiting for it to turn up. Once again there were more foreigners than locals arriving for the bus and when we left I counted 15 black people and 32 white on board, very strange after so long in other African countries. Sorry I said I'd keep this one brief, we broke down, again. This time the pneumatics (including the brakes) went about half way to Kumasi. The various drivers, drivers mates and mechanics on board all had a good tinker and we made a few false restarts but all in all spent the best part of 3 or 4 hours sat at the side of roads. Part of the reason for so mani Obroni on the bus was a party of 12 Canadian nurses heading to the beach before going home after their volunteering stint in the north. We did eventually get going again and broke down for the final time on the outskirts of Kumasi when everyone gave up and jumped in taxis. Patrick managed to hijack someone elses taxi and we got to the recommended hotel shortly before just about everyone else from the bus arrived there. Then in small groups, everyone (ourselves included) made it to Vic Bamboo's Indian restaurant where the genuinely Indian food was fantastic.
Sunday in kumasi was grim, everything was closed and the only think I did find open, the Cultural Centre was a major disappointment. There is a photograph of a remodelled Ashanti village in the Lonely Planet that is supposed to be in the Cultural centre but I couldn't find it, there is lots of derelict ground that might once have been the village. I was about to pay to go in the museum there when I realised that it was about the size of a garden shed so didn't bother. That left the rest of the afternoon free to sit around drinking Guinness and reading the book I picked up in the hotel. Patrick decided to get the 4am bus out to Takoradi, I think he was desperate to catch up with the Canadian girls at the beach without me cramping his style. I decided to give Kumasi another day when places would be open and to make a slower trip to the coast. I'm not sure if it was worth the wait, as Kumasi wasn't much more interesting when the shops were open. I tried to book the midday bus to Takoradi for Tuesday but it was full so I too ended up on the crazy 4am bus.
Going back to Gods, my old mate Mr Thor finally caught me up on Monday night, he wasn't happy. What started off as a gentle bit of rain got heavier and heavier until lightning was flashing all over the sky and the rain was flying horizontally through the hotel doors. The roads all flooded and a heavy wooden bench I'd been sitting on when it started flew across the balcony and nearly off the edge. My first rain since I left Morocco, I guess the Sahara was too much even for my rain making ability.