stephanie looking up

The job really needs to no perks at all. But this is definitely one. Miki and I have taken a small vacation to the western coastline of Ghana. We knew the coast was supposed to be beautiful, but we thought we had chosen 'budget' level accommodation... only to find ourselves staying in an extremely charming private beachfront chalet, and eating indescribably delectable food including fresh lobster (cooked on the beach by the fisherman himself), straight-out-of-the-oven croissants, freshly squeezed orange juice, fajitas with extraordinary homemade tortillas, and sangria and tapas at the only Spanish tapas bar in Ghana (complete with a parrot hanging out under our table). Every minute was accompanied by waves crashing on an endless palm-fringed white sand beach, and that ever yearned for salty sea breeze. Understatedly a pleasant surprise. Fishing boats in Busua, the small fishing village we visited where we ate fresh lobster. The beach at Beyin. The beach at Bey

As a Fox, it's in my blood to deeply appreciate efficiency. For all of the apparent disorganization in the Ghanaian transport system, I, in fact, love it. There is three essential forms of tranport here: buses, which go between major cities only, trotros (minibuses) and shared taxis, which travel on set routes for set prices, and drop taxis, which are private taxis like we use in Canada. There are some organized trotro and bus stations and taxi ranks and here there is not usually a set schedule for departures. The vehicle simply departs when it is full. If you are not at a station or 'stop', you can also just stand at the side of the road and flag down passing cars. At the end of the day it feels much like an organized public hitch hiking system. Here is why I like it so much: 1) On the odd occasion one ends up waiting several hours to catch a ride, but for the most part I find that the system forces you to travel without expectations for arrival and departure times, l

To portray the charm of the old lady (Abrua) Afia here in a post is seeming impossible. Afia's house is a clay house, one room with a clay floor and tin roof. It stands slightly apart from the rest of the houses, on top of a small hill next to a path going into the forest. We eat lunch beside her house everyday, on her bench under a small tree, always bringing some extra to share with her. Afia seems to spend some time and keep her things at another house in the village, I think her family house, but she keeps her house on the hill to maintain her independence (you go girl). She feeds her self mainly from farming, but makes her daily bread by collecting bundles of firewood that she sells for 1 cedi each (50 cents CAN). We often see her collecting firewood in the forest (villagers are allowed to collect dead wood), always singing as she goes. It is remarkable watching this 70- something lady chop up branches with her machete, stack them all up and then carry the huge load out of

This weekend Miki, Andy and I traveled up to Mole National Park in the northern part of Ghana. We had a complete blast.   We went on a walking safari early in the morning and we took a driving safari in the afternoon and got to ride on top of a very serious jeep. Both safaris were absolutely terrific, so beautiful. We saw incredible wildlife, especially many extremely impressive birds.  We saw many monkeys (yahoo!!), warthogs and many species of antelope.  I think 50% of what I said that day was ‘WOWWWW, LOOK AT THAT!”.  We got to see one elephant - he was absolutely magnificent.  We saw him go swimming, go for a little jog, and take a very satisfying looking mudbath. It was awesome. Getting to and from the park was also a hoot, and we thought we got very lucky in the way of catching rides for each part of the journey. Comically we thought the trotro ride from the nearest town back to Boabeng, our home village, would be the easiest, because it was market day so there should be lots

The Fruit Lady We like our fruit lady very much.  The fruit lady is our last stop each week at market. We usually buy several apples, plus some of whatever is looking best that week.  She always greets us with a very big smile and very warm welcome. She says we are her besssssst friend, and usually plunks an extra orange or banana into our bag (and is sure to look at us with a great big grin after the show of appreciation).  On weeks when we have a lot to carry we leave it at her booth while we do our rounds at the market. Once she was wearing shimmering purple eye shadow (women rarely wear make-up where we are) and I told that it looked nice. She was so happy she told me to come back behind her stand and dug through her purse so she could show me the little case of eye-shadows that she had. Then she wanted to put some of the purple on me right then and there. After tactfully dodging the situation (and I mean dodge nearly literally) Andy and I had a good laugh imagining what a scene

On a very usual feeling Wednesday afternoon, we were watching Winter. They were by the village and we were standing on the road to get the best view. It was all very ordinary, until we saw the most monstrous looking truck turn the corner at the intersection in Boabeng. It rolled very slowly toward us. We thought the military had come to Boabeng; we faltered for an explanation. Out of habit we all lifted our binoculars to our eyes in search of any clue and immediately all of our mouths gaped in unified thought - ‘Guys! There is a white guy driving that truck.’ We were stumped. Minutes later, Mr. White Guy turned out to be Mike from Fort St. John, BC – sporting a remarkable 12 or so inch beard and reminding me all too much of ‘Mike… from Canmore’ ala Royal Canadian Air Farce. Mike from Fort St. John has been traveling for six months on a self directed overland tour that started in Austria. After traveling Europe he crossed from Spain into Morocco and was now making his way to South Afri

Watching these comical crabs all over the beach was terrifically addicting.