I have no idea how many times I have been to Accra. It was my first visit to Africa, in December 2001 but the next visit was only in 2005 and since then every year several trips, all work-related, followed.
At the beginning I used to stay in Novotel, right in downtown, a convenient place for nightlife and going out in Osu, but quite inconvenient for work, which was located in Gulf House, at what has been later known as Tetteh Quarshie Circle, a behemoth traffic junction, always jammed with traffic.
So before 2010 work was pushing me to stay somewhere closer and it became more feasible as number of hotels in Accra grew – at the beginning there were just a couple and I remember a five-day-trip during which each night I stayed in a different place. It’s also around 2010 when traffic in Accra started becoming more and more unbearable and sometimes the 10km between Novotel and work would take an hour. So I stayed closer to work but further from downtown and I stopped at one point coming to downtown at all – the distance, the taxi prices becoming higher and higher. Ghana used to be cheap, now it’s a rather costly place. Just yesterday I was in a local fast food (local food only) joint and there was an announcement that “due to rising prices” a cup of rice is now 3cedi instead of 2cedi.
From Cape Coast to Accra it’s over 2 hours subject to traffic. Next to my guesthouse there was a ford station – a bit peculiar mode of transport, massive ford vans converted to busses. Fully air-conditioned, the trip costs 28cedis.
At 6:30am there was a knock at my door. A woman brought… breakfast! Okay… Is there breakfast? Why wasn’t there breakfast yesterday? Anyway, I took the dry bread with the omelette, a plastic cup with a tea bag and 2 small containers with powdered milk and sugar and a pot of hot water from her.
I started calling possible hotels. There is a Salvation Army Guesthouse that’s apparently 80cedis per room. I called the number, a man answered. “Is it salvation army?” “I work with them”. They were full.
On booking.com there was a guesthouse not too far from downtown, $15 but it was in some industrial area. I opened up the local booking.com, Jumia Travel and actually booked a hotel that was in a good area and cost 70cedis. I got an email telling me the booking is being “processed.” An hour later a phone call, from Jumia Travel, that the only rooms available at the hotel I’d just booked were 115cedis. Nope.
In 2009 when I was in Accra travelling by myself I stayed in a Crystal Hotel/Hostel, it was $15 but it was very far from everywhere, the taxi drivers didn’t know where it was etc. Now the iOverlander says taxi to downtown costs 30cedis one way, quite possible, that’s $12 extra unless I will start using tro tros (minibuses) which so far have been a bit of enigma to me.
Then I thought I’d look up Bradt Guide – the only shoestring hotel mentioned was the Crystal Hotel, now apparently at $18.50 per night and I thought maybe in the more upmarket “budget” section of the accomodation chapter I would find something both near centre and around perhaps $20/night.
And it turned out that Bradt Guide sorts accommodation not only by price level but also by the area in which the hotels are and right there, in Asylum Down (crazy place for a neighbourhood), Adabraka etc. there are many hotels around my budget $10-15. I called up one, Ingot Hotel, landline, I barely heard the man. They have rooms 60-80-100 cedis, can I have the one for 60? Yes. Great!
Our ford left about 11am, it filled up quite quickly. The drive was comfortable, 3 people in a row of seats. The comforts.
We stopped at Kaneshie. Not sure what it is with the stationary taxi drivers on the bus stops but they always inflate their prices beyond any reasonability and they don’t really want to bring the prices down. How are they even making money? Anyway, mine wanted 30cedis, I said 10, we were nowhere nearer agreement when someone patted me on back and pointed to a taxi that was passing by and stopped waiting for me. I asked that taxi for the price… 10 cedis! I went in.
The driver didn’t know where my hotel was until he saw it, then somehow he remembered. Anyway, Google Maps helped (although there are two Ingot Hotels in Accra, the other one in the far East of the city).
There was no 60 cedis room available, “the guy didn’t check out”. I took a 70 cedis room, with “queen size bed”. Well, if this is what queen size bed looks like I wonder about the king size beds. It’s massive, the room spacious with two armchairs in it, large bathroom and later I noticed there is even AC. I stick with the fan.
I went out to look for food. There is a restaurant that I used to frequent, it had good food but was always empty. It seems it has now closed down although the sign is still there. Across the street there is Orangery, another restaurant with something like home accessories shop. They had yam & palava sauce, 20 cedis, I ordered. It took an hour for the food to be ready. It often used to be like this, I think it’s the boiling of the yam that takes so much time. It was tasty but again, not too spicy. I had a bottle of club, a local lager, with it, 10 cedis. The menu says the prices don’t include VAT but they seem to do so, I paid 30 cedis.
I walked towards Arts Centre. In 2001 I met a man named Herbert there. He sold me the postcards then he became very unhappy about the price I negotiated with him and j bought him lunch. I still remember how he was feeding me pieces of meat from his plate straight to my mouth. And Herbert introduced me to his cousin, Kenneth aka Akwasi (children are named after the day of the week they were born, Akwasi is Sunday) who was running a shop selling stuff to tourists.
And somehow we became friends with Kenneth. Oh, the times I stayed in Novotel I’d come over every day after work for a drink, or two, or three… It’s Kenneth who showed the akpeteshi, the local spirit, flavoured with mahogany woods, then there is aristo, the local spirit infused with a certain kind of herb… I’d visited Kenneth’s aunts and been to his house on many occasions.
But then I stopped coming to Arts Centre. I was further and further away in Accra from the downtown, getting there in the afternoon took so long that by the time I reached Arts Centre it was already closed. At that time Kenneth also became a born-again Christian and he wanted me to come to Jesus.
I walked all the way down to Arts Centre, the street between Novotel – which is no longer, now it’s called Accra City – and Arts Centre cleared of street hawkers, now there is an Accra Metropolitan Assembly building.
And as I met Kenneth again in the afternoon and we counted the years and it turned out it was in 2011 when we saw each other last time. I felt a bit ashamed that I neglected his friendship for so long. Everyone in the shops recognised me but not everyone was still around. Herbert passed away two years ago. It’s a very African death to me, I witnessed it before: Herbert felt very bad, they took him to hospital, two days later he was dead. Kenneth didn’t even know the cause, the hospital only told the closest family.
Someone else was in UK for the past 6 years. Kenneth is now selling mainly second-hand leather bags, he says it’s not a particularly good trade. He complained there are not many tourists, so I gave him the whole Ghana gist. His oldest daughter is now 16 years old but the girls and their mother are at her family’s in the Eastern Region, it’s school holidays now in Ghana. Kenneth is now only “a bit” born-again Christian and he doesn’t mind the drink now. The aristo he warns me against saying that it’s now mixed with painkillers.
Another man – Yaw (Thursday) greeted me asking me if I remembered him. 8 didn’t. He told me about a photo I took of him that I’d sent to Kenneth. I looked for the photo on my phone. I don’t have so many photos from Ghana. But there he was in front of his kente materials.
Then there is Lukeman. A man who’s dreaming of Europe. When he saw me he threw himself at me. Lukeman for married in the meantime and now he has three children. He still would love to come to Poland so apart from him being at awe of seeing me after so many years, we were mostly discussing aspects of him getting work in Poland.
With Kenneth having closed down we went for a drink. We had a local spirit, this time infused with… ginger! Oh man, this thing burns right through you. Then we settled with Guinness, the bar at the arts centre quite full, a Senegalese musician “I sing very well” at our table smoked cigarette after cigarette and he got offended when I didn’t bring him a bottle. “I am also here”. Then another two musicians sat down by our table. They have a band which plays every Friday at a restaurant onsite but they won’t play tomorrow because one of their men just died. We chatted a bit about music in general – I was proud I had finally found one Ghanaian musician whose music I really enjoyed, Ebo Taylor. Apparently he is a legend here. Then one of the men admitted he had been to Poland multiple times, including a wedding in Krakow of a Polish man and Ghanaian woman and he had enjoyed it. Well, Polish weddings, if done right, are the best in the world.
After the two bottles Kenneth and I walked his direction. He said he had changed houses. He also mentioned the government wanted to relocate the Arts Centre to another location, near the airport, which is more cramped than this one. Here by the sea they are planning a “Marina drive”. Rich people only.
We parted somewhere in downtown, Kenneth gave me permission to walk back to my hotel in the dark – ha always insisted on me taking taxis – but I was warned to be careful of my phone between the 1st and 4th traffic light.
On my way I found a local fast food joint. I had two cups of jollof rice, two pieces of meat, 12 cedis. Tasty, the meat stew was fiercely peppered.
Coming back to Maman 