By Steven
Right now we're stuck in nasty traffic heading from our ocean paradise in Elmina back to Accra for our flight, on what must be the first true blue sky day. Whatever humidity or haze or smog was over the country has lifted: the perfect day for my pale companion and I to spend out by the pool and ocean catching some rays and balancing on fallen palm trees. We'll treat the sunburns later.
As I said, our beach is fraught with peril. The night before we had decided to reunion with our Habitat comrades who all happened to be staying down the beach at another hotel. Now when I say down the beach, I mean if we walked on the crazy potholed road it would have been about 2km and taken a bit. On the beach it was only about 1.2 with the tacit understanding that you might get a little wet in the areas where 'sand winning' had occurred. Seemed like a no brainer. I like shortcuts and walks on the beach. I like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain too, if you're asking.
As the light was fading we hit the beach and started our adventure. At first all seemed quiet and normal. About 3 or 4 minutes in we saw this dog hanging out at a backpackers inn next door. We waved and continued walking, but soon found we had picked up a tail. We tried walking faster but there was just nowhere to hide. All I could think of was my assistant who got bit by a wild dog in India and yelling at me for not getting a rabies vaccine, and KCs doc with the advice of 'just don't run after any rabid dogs'.
Like veteran movie stars, we walked on, trying to ignore the rabid paparazzi as much as possible. Of course, a few minutes later, we realized our tail had turned to 3. What was our plan? Run into the water if necessary. We were basically walking up to our knees at this point anyway.
Then the obstacle course got trickier. Sea urchins.
For those who don't know, a sea urchin basically looks like a black volcanic rock and a porcupine had a baby. A very spiky baby.
KC: Just don't step on them.
Steven: I think they're poisonous, right?
KC: All I know is if you do I think you're supposed to pee on it. I don't know if our friendship can handle that!
So we quick stepped our way through a minefield of sea urchins. Luckily for us, our canine companions chose not to navigate into the asteroid field. Wait, that was Star Wars. Focus Steven.
After we left the sea urchins and the possibly rabid dogs, we came upon a completely different rabid species ... teenagers.
Ghanaians are seriously friendly. Especially the kids. But the boys, especially as they get older, seem to mock more than be friends. So I was healthily skeptical when two out of this group of ten splashing around a shallow inlet came up asking our names. I told them mine and didn't introduce KC to at least save her some torture. Hand slaps with snap (the ghanaian hand shake) were exchanged and we kept walking to try and get past them. The one kid screamed my name to all the others and for the next five minutes my name must have been repeated 18 times as they jumped up and down in the water.
What I've left out so far is that half of them were bathing in the ocean in their birthday suits. Some parts of Ghana are just poor and somewhat innocent. They just didn't care. KC just kept walking eyes averted and I had to run to keep up.
With our journeys end and the hotel in sight we saw our final obstacle: massive piles of horse poop. Coconut Grove (the hotel) offers horse back riding on the beach and apparently they leave their footprints in multiple ways. Add in pretty rough surf and we had some bobbing and weaving to do.
Poop averted, finally we had arrived; to dine with old friends, reminisce and play ping pong!
The End
Tune in tomorrow for the next Chapter. We return to our hotel along the beach ... in the pitch black of night!
Actually, nothing happened on the way back. Someone must have forgotten to reset the obstacle course. But man was my adrenaline pumping the whole way. Our hotel owner said the next day: "The walk is perfectly safe at night. The only thing you have to worry about is your imagination."
Amen, brother.
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