Lake Volta

I only have a few days left before I head to Canada, and Ralf is determined that we take a road trip somewhere, anywhere. 

So Friday we quickly grab a few things, pile into the Land Rover and head off. We almost scuttled the trip. I woke Friday morning with a migraine, Fortune has a bit of malaria, and Ralf had root canal that morning. But my headache is gone by noon, Fortune is used to operating with a 'bit' of malaria, and Ralf's head is still half frozen. 

Ralf has it the worst of us. This is round two of three planned visits to the dentist. But today the power was out at the clinic, which meant the dentist couldn't take an X-ray, which meant he was drilling blind (he was using an auxiliary power source strong enough to turn the drill). After the first visit, Ralf was convinced this would be a modern and painless event, even after the freezing came out. He had declined Fortune's offer to come with him to the clinic to hold his hand. Later on the drive he announced that Fortune could join him for the next appointment.

We are headed for the southern tip of Lake Volta, where the Akosombo hydro dam is. Just below the dam, on the river, are several resorts that Ralf and Fortune know. The drive is only about three hours from campus.

From the University we first drive up into the hills to Peduase, to pick up Fortune from their home. We each have a glass of fresh squeezed mango juice that Fortune has prepared. We then drive through the hills, avoiding the main highway, passing through charming little towns, before connecting with highway after an hour or so. On route, though, Fortune and Ralf recall why leaving for a road trip on a Friday is a bad idea.

Friday is the preferred day for funerals. And funerals mean crowds of people slowly walking down the main street of town, often with a casket shoved in the back of a car which is then pushed down the street. There will be loud, distorted music, people yelling and singing, others carrying smudge pots with burning or smoldering plant leaves, cars speeding up and slowing down, with people hopping on and off, and a long line of people, like us, passing through town in a gridlock of cars and trucks. And there will be plenty of drunk driving. 

In one town we are almost in a head on crash with a car. Out of each window, yelling and waving, are four people, one of them the driver. He is not looking at the road and swerves directly in front of us going at a good clip. Ralf applies the horn and breaks simultaneously and cranks the steering wheel, taking us into the crowd of mourners weaving up the street. No one is hurt and the car continues to dangerously wander through town.

If a hard semester or a hard week weren't enough to make a night at a resort seem restful, town after town of Ghanaian funerals will do it.

Still we arrive in good time, and in one piece.

The site is beautiful. There are rolling hills all about, forested not with a tall, deep jungle but with a remarkable mix of trees, including some pretty impressive species, towering over the rest of the canopy, complete with vines and support tendrils.

And the river is gorgeous. We have arrived late afternoon and the sun is already beginning to give a warm glow to the water.

Even though we are below the dam, the river is wide, impressive, and well travelled.

We eat our dinner on a deck built out over the water and watch the sun set, feel the air cool off, and enjoy a quite atmosphere of good food, night scented flowers, brandy and conversation.

The lake is a major source of tilapia, most of it farmed. So we all have the grilled tilapia. Typical of Ghanaian cuisine, it comes under a blanket of raw onion and green pepper, accompanied by hot chili sauce and banku (fermented and steamed cornmeal and cassava — not pictured).

Though it seems we sit by the river under the glow of lanterns for hours, it is remarkably early when we check into our rooms. This is a combination of my still adjusting to complete dark by 6:30 to 7:00 and us collectively being tired.

The rooms are quite charming. As breakfast is included we plan to just make a slow start to the day and find each other in the morning.

Saturday is cool and there are signs of storms about, though we avoid driving in any serious weather. We drive north to the dam. The Okosombo Dam is rather utilitarian, but it is good to get above it and see the lake. This year the dam and the hydro-electric project celebrates its 50 birthday. It was originally built to supply power to the aluminum industry. A byproduct of this was the electification of Ghana. The project also supplies power to Togo and Benin.

Volta Lake is the largest human made lake on the planet. The kinds of human and environmental upheavals that such a project would bring are easy to imagine. Despite the regular power outages down the line, this project has been relatively successful. The transmission system is the weak link. In addition to a tilapia industry, just above the dam is a tour boat with an on board restaurant that takes a couple of hours plying the waters nearest the dam. But there is a car and truck ferry a little further up the river that heads up the lake with landings on both the west and north east side. Ralf hopes to do this in the near future. The ferry ride takes two days to get to its destination, which is not even the top of the lake. But it is a short cut to the north east region of Ghana.

 

The drive back to the city is fun. It is baby goat season and they are everywhere. I've long felt that any day you see a goat is a good day, and this is an extraordinary day.

It is also mango season and dozens of kinds of mangoes are for sale at hundreds of stands along the road. I now have a bag of small mangoes, about 6cm long. The best way to use them is to cut them in half around the equator and juice them on a lemon or orange reamer. Which I don't have. So I will attack them with a sharp knife and eat them my standard way.

The weather is fine, I feel refreshed, there are no funerals, as we drive through the country and villages of Ghana.