A quick snap I took on the outward journey coach leg to Kumasi. I absolutely adore the outcome of this shot, through sepia tinted windows, and to my advantage my iPhone pulled it off, whilst vehicle was in motion.
Absolutely yum. traditional Ghanian scran. top is fried fish and kenkey with shitto (spicy paste) and bottom is sweet (brown) and salted plantain chips, which are about 30p a bag.
We visited the cultural centre in Kumasi- where they teach students how to make cloth and tapestry- and I discovered this small cut off/sample in the corner of the room. It is my Ghanian name, AKUA. (means I was born on a Wednesday) Everyone gets named after the day of the week they were born on; all girls have a set of names, as well as boys.
Another of my own quick snaps at the very bottom of our steeply descending mountain journey in Kumasi. It took us about 15 mins from top to bottom by car, reaching the huge Lake which measured 8km across. This lake catered for 22 surrounding villages and was created by a meteorite.
There wasn’t much down there at all, except subsistence living, a more primitive society, animals running free, a lovely thing called Palm wine (natural alcohol from Palm trees) and scantily clad locals bathing in the water. It truly was the simple life; beautiful, a few boats doing short excursions, sand, but it provided nothing in the way of leisure and the local climate was also exhaustingly hot to stand in.
A quick snap from around the markets in Kumasi. They were heaving, hectic and horrid. Hot, stinky, daunting and maze-like.
However they were super cheap, colourful, dazzling and foreign, which carried some appeal. We managed to bargain various gorgeous printed fabrics, costing about £2.50 for 2 yards. (WIN) The locals stared at us like we were a completely new species, which was uber uncomfortable, calling out ‘obroni’ (white person) every fourth person or so through the market trek. After 11 years without a Ghanian encounter, I thought the country may have somewhat developed to expect tourists of all colours and races nowadays…apparently not. To them English, Asian, Indian, Europeans etc. are all ‘white people.’ Strange huh?
So traditional Ghanaian dins consists of fried plantain and red red. The latter is a mixed bean (mainly black eyed) based dish with spices, hot pepper, tomato, chicken and rich in oil. It’s so satisfying and naughty.
A breakfast ting. The standard order at the Kumasi hotel we stayed at (Summer Park Hotel)- very pleasant actually, both the stay and the munch, although the light in the rooms was very clinical and dim. This plate comprised of spring onion, diced carrots (i think) and some questionable sausage-esque meat. Nonetheless nutritional and tasty at 930am everyday.
