Scenes from The Volta

9:30pm Tuesday, April 22, 2014:

“You want to go to Volta over the Easter Weekend?”

“Ahhhermahhiiiii…”[glancing at map: that’s roughly two-thirds the length of country away. Visions of long hours on packed minibuses, crowds, confusion, “exposure”, risk, etc. all for a day and a half at a waterfall…], “…wha the hell, I’ll be there!”

4:30pm Thursday, April 24, 2014:

“You know, obroonii, that this is the party bus, ohhh!” [Way overexcited teenage driver’s mate on the knock-off-knock-off intercity coach bus between Tamale and Kumasi, as he’s dancing around the aisle to an extra loud, extra generic hip-life/auto-tuned-to-death dance number, supergluing the seat numbers back on while his colleague is crop dusting the seated passengers with two cans of air freshener.]

11:00pm Thursday, April 24, 2014:

“Hmm..energy levels seem to be dropping. I know just the thing to liven up this party-bus!” [Bus driver to himself, before queuing up the next three consecutive Nigerian movies] “Full volume? Oh yeah!”

10:30am Friday, April 25, 2014:

[At the Kejetia Tro Yard waiting for the bus (converted 80’s utility van) to fill up for the trip from Kumasi to Ho. Having just missed the last bus by mere minutes (one seat was left and there are two of us travelling together), we now pass from reality into the Kafka/Heller-esque, time-free parallel universe of the tro yard. When will the bus leave? It could be minutes, it could be hours, it doesn’t matter, it all comes down to a simple formula:

# of seats on the bus – (rate at which people decide to travel to Ho)*(amount of patience you have to wait)

It is a chess game of patience, social psychology, minute trends and arcane signals. There are rules, and patterns sometimes arise out of the chaos, but like antimatter they exist only to vanish as soon as they are discovered. It takes dedication and zen-like control in order to become good at picking the right bus to the right place at the right time to complete your journey.]

5:30pm Friday, April 25, 2014:

“Yeah, I’m not actually going all the way to Ho (even though you waited around for an hour or two to meet this specific criteria). The bridge is out and there are long queues at the one ferry crossing. Instead, I’ll “sell” you to another tro driver going that way and we’ll split the difference.” [Tro driver to us as we are unceremoniously dropped off in Kpong, still several hours from our destination.]

 8:00pm Friday, April 25, 2014:

“Oh shit, braa, our headlights are fading! Quick jiggle the cable to the battery that for some reason is under the seat.”

“Nah man, battery is dead. We’ve got no lights, chali. Maybe you should slow down a bit.”

“Slow down!!?”

“You guys are going to kill us all! Here is my flashlight.”

“Okay great! Front seat passenger: dangle out the window holding the flashlight. Yep that works! Crisis averted!”

[An interpretation of a conversation in Ewe between the tro driver, his mate and an old lady in the second row, during the last few kilometers into Ho.]

8:30pm, Friday, April 25, 2014

[Dropped off in the regional capital of Ho, no chance of covering the extra hour and a half to our final destination of Wli just outside of Hohoe to the North, my travel companion, Sean, and I weigh our options.]

“Let’s just flag a taxi and get him to take us to a guest house.”

[First taxi we see, picks us up, takes us more or less directly to the best, low priced motel in the city (suspiciously named “Work and Happiness”), doesn’t overcharge, and even offers to pick us up again in the morning! Where else in the world, (developed, developing, or otherwise) can you casually cruise into an unknown city with no contacts, no directions, no reservations and not much money, speak English to everyone, not get ripped off, not get taken for a taxi joy-ride, or be otherwise taken advantage of for being the silly tourists we are? The upturned cockroach in the motel hallway, legs curled upwards in agony/ecstasy, seems to indicate agreement.]

12:00pm, Sunday, April 27, 2o14

[Staring up into the crashing, tumbling upper Wli waterfalls after a 3hr hike in the jungle heat and humidity. Waves of mist discharge off the mid-point of the 50m high falls and drift off into the valley bellow. Roosting bats are hanging all along the cliff face above and are circling overhead. In the distance there is nothing but forest and mountains; at the waterfall pool, other than the group of 8 of us and our guide, there is just one other person around. Trotros, travel and all the minor irritations of living in this country seems incredibly trivial  and far, far away.]

1:30am, Tuesday, April 29, 2014

[Arrive back in Kumasi after a cumulative travel and wait time from Hohoe of 17hours, including 6hrs in the Ho tro yard which I came to know far too well. This is what it is, for better or worse. With time, the good moments will become  bad  memories (corrupted and half remembered), the really bad moments will become good stories, and the mediocre times will biodegrade and eventually vanish. All you are left with is some hazy impressions, a feeling or two, and a couple of interesting tales to tell–but that’s all anybody really needs or wants out of life when it comes down to it.]

Here are a few photos of the mountains:

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2 Replies to “Scenes from The Volta”

  1. pics really look good. and you are looking great! i meant i miss the baby-face Jon-Mongolia-time 🙂

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