Adventures of Bambi and Catlady

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Adventures of Bambi and Catlady


This weekend was clearly the weekend to travel, well nobody told us! The majority of our group decided to travel. The numbers dwindled down to just two, myself and Hollie, a partnership that can only described as dangerous however highly amusing when together.

Our weekend of mayhem started early on Friday lunch time, after a hard mornings work we decided a well deserved quick lunch date was needed, a simple lunch hour what could go wrong?

A decision was made on African cuisine and the smallest dubious chop bar was our diner. With Hollie having a deathly allergy to fish it is always essential to know exactly what we are going to be served. So ordering Jolof Rice (A slightly spiced plain rice dish) was always going to be a “safe option.” Well remember T.I.A (This Is Africa) and you will all learn the most simplest of tasks can never go to plan, especially to an unfortunate partnership as the two of us. Our lunches arrived and at first seemed to be what we ordered; however after cautiously starting to eat we soon discovered that the rice was home to shreds of both meat and fish.

Well, to somebody who couldn’t eat fish as well as being a vegetarian, the combination could not have been much worse. So after a few moments of toying with death we decided to take the dubious meal “to go” and found the nearest Homeless looking guys and pass our unwanted deadly dinner onto them. Well come on they wasn’t to know, to them it was an act of kind generosity. As our lunch hour started to pass the two hour mark, we decided to go our separate ways back to work, a decision that we should really take up more often.

After work and a Friday night to look forward to, we returned home. Friday night, to most the biggest night of the week, a night to forget the hard weeks work and start the weekend as you mean to go on! Well it certainly started as it finished, random, hilarious and looking back highly embarrassing, With nobody to go out on the town with we decided that a night in with a deck of cards or a DVD would be a good option, well with my attention span matching with a toddler and not owning cards, improvisation was necessary. A board game would be good, and again with no board game we decided to make our own. Yes Friday night in Ghana we decide to make board games, yes folks a 20 year old lad and 23 year old graduate making Pirate and Care-Bear board games. However you forget one thing we are both students and nothing can be completed without Alcohol, it was just unfortunate that the only sauce we had was that of the Rum we bought a few weeks earlier in Ada-Foa. As you can guess the night was to get slightly messy when we realised our games were how I say it, Shit! So with chance cards written we decided to just act those out, after Hollie squawking like a parrot and drinking Rum we soon were left in a heap, in the middle of Aunties dinning room, such a proud host mother.

Saturday morning broke, as we shook of our lingering hangovers, we organised a busy day to Accra’s Makola market and Art Centre and a spot of lunch at a beautiful café over looking Labadi beach.

Makola market was truly remarkable, warrens of stalls, selling everything from appetising smelling spices to wonderful jewellery, jewellery what soon become the catalyst of mockery for the entire weekend. After walking around the wonderful stalls of Makola we decided to hit the Art centre, home to hand crafted musical instruments paintings and jewellery. It was an honour to meet the artist or creator, apart from one factor, apparently they all had made these objects and they were all my brothers so I had to buy. Well last time I checked I had one sister and wasn’t tempted to buy a maternal mask to aid pregnancy nor and shrine to warn off bad spirits however I was tempted by a few items jewellery for friends and a piece for myself. Looking back I would have had less hassle and mockery buying the shrines. After being followed around the market being begged to buy and shouts of “Obroni” we decided to head to the mysterious café hidden the cliff side.

A café that I personally feel Hollie imagined, after walking what seemed to by the whole of Labadi beach, stepping over syringes, excrement , old clothes and general rubbish, we started to get the feeling there was no café, so after intruding on a local village (AGAIN) we headed back to safety of Oxford St for some more familiar surroundings.

With the evening drawing closer and the option of more board games on the table (to Hollie’s delight) we decided to just “wing” a trip to Kokabite a beautiful beach resort. So with most trips taking a few days to plan, we grabbed our Bradt Guide (Ghana’s Holy Grail) and after five minuets of packing, we jumped on a tro-tro and headed 20 km south with a big mama deciding I would be her pillow for the entire journey. After traffic induced journey we arrived at the “end of the line” in the middle of yet another suspicious village and taken to our hotel by a stranger. After being taken down a dodgy dirt road in the pitch black we arrived at our first port of call, a beautiful hotel and restaurant only to be told they were fully booked, however we were certain to return for our evening meal after seeing Hollie’s delight with the place.

After finally checking in at Big Millie’s Backyard we were shown to our hut, a hut with no lights or electricity. After a while waiting for light we finally settled for a bed side lamp but personally the red shaded bulb would have been perfect, apparently that sent out the wrong message, but that could just be Hollie being prude! Finally being able to see where we were going to stay we dropped our things and headed to the restaurant, a beautiful romantic garden setting, serving Italian cuisine, I still wonder how the pair of us were allowed in such a fine establishment, however after a meal and most probably a lot of nonsense banter we returned down the sketchy dirt road back to our hotel for a night of Reggae and not forgetting the bottle of Rum that had left us with a sore head earlier that morning.

As the night went on and the Rum began to ruin our insides the embarrassment again returned, talking to fellow volunteers, hopefully we will never have to look them in the eye again or have to complement ones hair braids, or pretending we were happily married in order for Rastafarian men to leave us both alone, but personally I think Hollie secretly loved it, hence buying one a bottle of Star. As the night went on and the Rum supply running low we returned to our dark hut with a certain person scoffing the famous Egg Butty (An omelette sandwiched between two slices of three inch thick bread) classy lady!

To the sound of a rooster shouting about, we woke the next morning, if my travel buddy wasn’t a veggie it would have certainly been dinner! The morning started just as the last, shaking off a hangover, thankfully some handled it better than others. During the day, we strolled across the beach being jumped on by three local children, who couldn’t speak a word of the Queens English; all we got was the name Georgina being repeated several times. After Hollie trying to choose which to take home. “Well if Madonna can.” We decided to head back to Accra a chance for me to engage in some normal conversation.

The return journey, with all the excitement and incidents of the weekend surely this was going to be incident free! Nope, a tro-tro is just a comedy show in transit, from a young boy being breast fed next to you, and obviously mistaking my elbow for a nipple, a women bringing a huge bowl of fish on board (which obviously didn’t go down well with the allergy Queen) or being taunted by a guy on a nearby tro, just for being “obroni” could the journey get worse?

Come on, it doesn’t take a genius to work that out, of course it could, with my ipod on and relishing the first chance of peace and quiet for a few days, a sudden crash echoed through the tro-tro. Yes, we had a puncture; the ever reliable tro had broken down. With a replacement tire fixed we returned home after a very eventful weekend.

A weekend that to me can be only described as “meh,” but to Hollie the best weekend of her life.


:0)

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