Today’s post is 1600 words, 13 photos, a 7 minute read. Enjoy!

Hi everyone,

This week I’ll take you from Sicily to Rome on to Brussels and finally to Ghana. You might be thinking, “holy cow, this is around-about-way to get from one place to the next.” Yes, it is. Hopefully, the journey and the why becomes clearer as you read on. But first, if you missed my series of five posts on Sicily, click here, here, here, here, and here.

Sicily to Rome to Brussels

We were up very early to catch the 6:45 AM bus departure for the airport in Catania. We left behind the Hotel Continental with its wonderful breakfast buffet and the beautiful city of Taormina overlooking the Ionian Sea.

At this early hour, traffic was light so we arrived at the Catania airport in about an hour. Our flight wasn’t until 11:40 AM so we had a long wait. My Traveling Partner and I read and walked around knowing that the next couple of days of travel would require a lot of seat time. The flight to Rome was delayed until 12:30 PM putting our connecting flight to Brussels in jeopardy. We did make it giving us about an hour to find our gate in Rome and get a bite to eat before boarding the plane to Brussels.

We arrived on time (5:30 PM) in Brussels, a city and country we have not visited not even passing through. So, why go north from Rome to Brussels just to go south to Ghana? It’s interesting to note there are few flights from any of the major airports in Italy to Ghana and other countries in west, central, and south Africa. Besides that, the tickets from Brussels were more affordable than from some other airports in Europe such as Paris, London, or Amsterdam.

In Brussels, we picked up our bags and walked out to catch the bus to our hotel that was less than 10 minutes from the airport. We had to lodge overnight in order to catch the direct flight from Brussels to Accra, Ghana. Since it was drizzling (it was early March), we decided to have dinner at the hotel rather than going out to explore the city at night. That would have to wait for another time.

After the best sleep in a while, we skipped what we thought was the expensive breakfast at the hotel, opting for breakfast at the airport. This was not my best idea, the cost for the same foods was more! After eating, we checked in at Brussels Air and had the first of five passport and visa checks. I don’t mind that airlines and governments want to keep travelers safe but this amount of security seemed a bit over board.

Brussels to Accra, Ghana

Every seat on the flight to Accra was taken, most by people of African descent. Many were families with well behaved kids being kids. During the flight, I passed the time by reading “The Women” by Kristen Hannah. It’s a historical novel about women who served as nurses in Vietnam. In a future blog, I’ll share some of my thoughts about this excellent book, there’s a lot to process as I was in the Army at about the same time frame as the one in the book.

We arrived on time in Accra, the capital city of Ghana. As soon as we deplaned, the heat hit us like a ton of bricks. We breezed through the new international terminal in what I thought was record time. When I was in Ghana in 2016, the old terminal was chaos on steroids, hard to tell where to go. This time, our first stop was at the health officer who checked to make sure we had a yellow fever vaccination, then immigration for a visa check, picked up our bags and quickly cleared customs. At baggage claim, we saw this sign with the word “Akwaaba” that means welcome, a word that we heard often in Ghana. There were no lines and no hassles until we exited the terminal.

We were being met by the Ghanian guide for our group, Papa Peter Kwame Kpodo. More about him later. Before we met up with Papa, we were inundated with people willing to “help” us with our luggage or arranging a ride, etc. For “helping” us, the expectation was a payment of at least ten Euros or U.S. dollars. I didn’t have either but they hounded us until Papa rescued us. Even then they follow us to the car, I finally pulled out the few Euros I had in coins, gave it to the two guys, and jumped in the car. They were still standing there looking very angry as we pulled away.

Accra

Papa and the driver took us to the KNUST Guest House in Accra where we would be spend the night before heading out with the group to experience life in Ghana. The group was organized by our Madison friend Mary Crave, who has been to Ghana 30 times, often leading student groups for the University. She also leads small groups like the one we were on for people that she knows. There were nine of us including Mary. I was the only male besides Papa, the local guide, his assistant and cousin, Martin, and the bus driver also named Martin. We’d spend the next two weeks learning about the culture in Ghana by visiting schools, a 4-H club, research facilities, local markets, and a few tourist spots.

KNUST is the acronym for Kwame Nkrumah University of Science and Technology. The main KNUST campus is in Kumasi, a city in central Ghana, about 4 hours north of Accra. They operate the Guest House in Accra for students and professors conducting research plus other educational orientated groups much like ours.

Kwame Nkrumah was the first Prime Minister of Ghana after they gained independence from Great Britain in 1957. Rather than cater to the elites, he focused on creating spaces to instill pride in country for all people. His work over 60 years ago is paying dividends even today. He is revered and the people are proud of their country.

Accra is the capital of Ghana and is located in the most southern part of the country on the Gulf of Guinea and the Atlantic Ocean. It’s also the largest city with a population of over 4 million in the greater metro area.

After breakfast the next morning, we boarded the bus that Martin would drive us around Ghana.

Even though his given name is Peter, he prefers to be called Papa. He was not only our guide, he was a teacher of culture, a bit of a philosopher, and operated what we called the Bank of Ghana. He did money exhange from U.S. dollars to the local currency, the Cedi. He and his cousin Martin operate Volta Range Travel and work with groups coming to Ghana for cultural learning. As we traveled around Ghana, I realized Papa knew people wherever we were going. People like owners of hotels, restaurants, markets, schools, and many others that he has developed a relationship over the years. This is a great skill and knowledge to have in a country like Ghana where things can change on the spot. He’s a fellow I admire and respect, I’m proud to know him. To connect with Papa, click here. 

The Makola Market

Our first stop was the Makola Market in Accra, the largest traditional market in Ghana and all of West Africa. The market is huge with what seemed like thousands of vendors, most of them women. They sold just about anything a person would need from car parts, coffins and household goods to vegetables, fruit, dried and fresh fish, meat, rice, and flour are only examples. As we walked through the uneven, narrow aisles, we were inundated with the sights, smells (sweat, fish, spices, and disinfectants), and sounds in the market. In some areas, preachers were preaching in the tribal language (usually Twi) so loud I thought my eardrums would burst. In others, religious songs were being blasting over a loud speaker. Sometimes these sounds overlapped! There were some people moving around while others were calling out to us to look at their wares and buy from them. Here is some of what we saw.

The main reason to visit the market was for my fellow travelers to visit and see the fabric market. I can tell you there were large buildings filled with women vendors selling fabric. While the women perused the thousands of bolts of fabric, I walked around looking for a photo opportunity that might tell a story. I came upon this young dressmaker with a big smile and bright eyes. She was working on a woman’s dress, bright yellow in color. Someone likely bought the fabric that morning and brought it to the dressmaker for construction. It might be done the next day, ready to wear. I asked if I could take her photo, she consented. It’s one of my favorites from our two weeks in Ghana.

We were in the market for well over an hour taking in all the sights and sounds as well as buying a few things. My Traveling Partner purchased two nice sized pieces of fabric for 125 Ghanian cedis (about $10 USD), a bargain, I’m told. During our time there, I never felt uncomfortable, but I was keenly aware that we were the only white skinned people in the market. It would like that during most of our time in Ghana. It reminded me what it feels like to be a racial and ethnic minority. A true cultural learning experience.

Join me next week for more travels in Ghana.

Until then, happy travels!

Tom

PS: Click here for a link to the post about my book “Farm Boy.” Contact me if you are interested in purchasing a copy. Thanks to all have plunked down your hard earned dollars and read the book. TM