Kerstin had
to go back to Accra to sort out a visa for India so in theory I was travelling alone to
meet Linn (aka Linn 1), the other volunteer I met in my first week, to go to Mole National Park
in the north of Ghana.
Whilst in Kumasi, we’d met up with
Christoph and Linn (aka Linn 2) who came with us to meet our man Nana Abass.
They were also going to Mole, so we three travelled together to Tamale, where
we met Linn 1 and were joining forces to get to Mole. Transport here is
extremely quirky as I think you may have gathered. So . .. the bus leaves
Tamale for Mole at 1400 each day but because there’s only the one direct bus,
it gets booked up so you need to be at the ticket office very early on the day
of travel (around 4 a.m.) to secure seats. As Linn 1 had limited time away from
her orphanage, we decided we’d take a taxi all the way – it’s about 90 kms –
and split the cost 4-ways. We’d arranged to meet at 8.00 to go to the taxi
station and find a willing cabbie to take us.
However, at
7.30 Christoph called to say that Linn 2 had a foot infection and needed to go
to hospital to have it treated. By now, we were far too late to queue for
tickets so we waited till Linn 2 was free – about 11.30 – and booked a taxi (it
sounds much more civilized than it is in reality – we had to drive a hard
bargain, beating the guy down from 300 GHC (extortionate) to 90 GHC (a bargain
when we realized what it entailed)). It’s about ten pounds per person.
We started
the journey peacefully enough, Linn 2 comfortably in the front propping up her
foot, and Christoph, Linn 1 and myself in the back. The first hour was fine –
tarmacked road, little traffic – we thought we’d be there in 2 ½ hour. But then
we turned off the road and started the 60 kms-long dust track to Mole. Bear in
mind that Mole is probably the most popular attraction in Ghana and where
they surely get the most tourists/visitors/volunteers. I wanted to close the
windows to prevent the red dust coming in but the driver insisted that they all stay open, so … we bumped along
the track for the 60 kms, sometimes on the right hand side, sometimes the left,
hoping nothing was coming in the opposite direction (very little did). The dust
just kept flying in and covering not only all of us but all our rucksacks too …
When we
arrived at the entrance to the park, the rangers took one look at us, burst out
laughing and insisted that we had to clean up before we could sign the
visitors’ register. You can see for yourself (when I upload the pix) why it
caused such mirth and merriment. Two showers and a swim later, we felt clean
again! We didn’t see too much that evening being a little weary but arranged to
go on the early morning safari the following day.
