Between budgetary constraints and a desire for Adam, Louis and I to not spend 14 hours of a weekend in a tro-tro, it was decided that on Friday we would get some visitors in Eastern Region to hit up Oda and our home away from home - the Ntiamwoah Hotel.
It started with six intrepid travellers leaving Achiase with hope in our hearts and BoysBoys in our bellies. We tro-tro-ed to the main junction in Oda, then squeezed into a taxi to Ntiamwoah. (At this point it's worth explaining that the Ntiamwoah Hotel - like Oda itself - is permanently empty. Deserted. Completely vacant.) So it was with a surprised look on our faces that we were told that the hotel was full. Right. That's new. So, a little disappointed, we walked back up the track and got another taxi to a different hotel. Which was full. Went to the next hotel along. Full. What is happening?! This is Oda! A deserted town in the middle of a deserted jungle! And THREE hotels are full?!
So we jump in another taxi. "Just take us to a hotel. Any one will do". We were getting a little downhearted, trapsing from place to place, until everything changed at hotel number five.
Oh yes.
The rain started.
And in Ghana, when it rains, oh how it RAINS.
Within mere seconds we were reduced from bone dry to "there's water running down my underwear" wet. And just like always in this country, when something bad or stupid or ridiculous or horrendous or terrifying happens...we laughed.
Eventually, at hotel number seven, the six drowned volunteers found a place to rest their heads. The funny thing about living in Ghana is how quickly your standards can become...flexible. It has a toilet that flushes? And a fan?! WOAH! Sign me up!
So I spent an evening with friends playing Cluedo and watching Cool Runnings on Billy's laptop. "Mrs Obruni in the hallway with the pistol. Yeah mon!"
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