Boti Falls

Friday we got up early in the hopes of grabbing a seat on a bus trip to Boti Falls organized by our local pub. The tour was reasonably priced and included drinks on the way. Too bad one else was interested, and no one told us it had been cancelled.

We decided to go to the falls anyway, on our own.

To go by trotro, we had to go through Nkumrah Circle and deal with the usual heat and sun and people. A parade for World Aids Day tramped through, offering such sage advice as, "avoid sex." It was mostly young kids and they danced and waved their signs and made faces at us as they went by. We had to cross the entirety of Circle and after finding the trotro, we had to wait about thirty minutes for it to fill up. While we waited, Wendy made a list of things offered for sale, usually off the seller's heads, through the trotro window:

canned mackerel, toothpaste, bagged chocolate milk ("nice cocoa!"), razors, bagged frozen yoghurt, bagged ice cream, biscuits, coconuts (cut open for drinking), papaya ("nice paw-paw!"), handkerchiefs ("han-han-han-hankey!"), sandwiches made-to-order from bread and premixed salads, hot meat pies (including some with whole boiled eggs in them), facecloths, canned tomato paste, washing powder, a book of phone numbers for police, fire departments and FM stations around ghana, children's books, tshirts and singlets, plantain chips, bars of soap, hard-boiled eggs, toilet paper, matches, cuff links, smoked fish wrapped in newspaper, pineapple (whole or sliced for immediate consumpation), perfumed body spray, windshield wipers, mentos, black velvet cowboy hats, cooked yam slices.

The trotro needed gas, must have been special gas because the driver left the route and drove past a dozen gas stations and round and round until he found the right one. All the passengers were losing patience with him, and that only added to the usual trotro discomfort.

Traffic in Accra is very bad right now. The Christmas season brings people from all over the country. Everywhere you travel now, you're faced with serious bumper-to-bumper traffic and an extra half hour (minimum) travel time, all in the hot tin can under the blazing sun.

Once out of the city, things were better but the trip was still longer than we had anticipated. We arrived in town of Koforidua shortly after noon. We were hot and hungry and dropped off someplace besides the main trotro station. A cab driver offered to take us the rest of the way for twenty dollars -- almost the same price we would have paid for the guided tour on an air-conditioned bus from Accra. Appalled, we snorted our disgust and went looking for the main trotro station.

We finally found it and asked about the bus to Agogo; along that route lies the gate for Boti Falls. We were told the Agogo bus was at yet another station and given more rough directions. Those directions took us up a filthy, rutted and nearly washed-out dirt road, past some drunk teenagers who yelled the usual "obruni obruni come here." At the top of the road, no trotro. Back we went, tired, hungry and feeling mean.

Some seamstresses at the side of the road were nice and informed us that we had to go back to the main trotro station. We headed back and then had to deal with the drunk teens who now demanded money and started to follow us.

Fortunately, a cab driver rescued us and took us to the falls for a reasonable fare in a shared taxi. He turned out to be very nice and interested in visiting Canada. If only I would invite him, he said, he would have no trouble with immigration and he could come when he wanted. I explained it was more difficult than that.

Friday was "Farmers Day," a national holiday to honour the contribution of farmers to the country's economy, so the gate to the park was busy with tour buses and kids taking advantage of the day off. Once we got in the gate, a cop asked me for money to buy water. I refused and he launched into a speech that neither Wendy nor I understood. The only words I caught were "fat" and "cat." We walked away and he left us alone.

Once inside and away from the cop, we started to relax. We were not very pleased with the trip so far, so we had a cold beer at the bar-shack to collect our wits and rest a bit before going to the falls. A group of women came into the shack and cheered our choice of beer. That raised our spirits.

Thus fortified, down to the falls we went, both of us noting how water had at some time in the past cut through the ground in large trenches. "Must be really something to see in the rainy season," we thought. [Wendy notes: Foreshadowing, anyone?]

Down the concrete steps we went, two-hundred and fifty of them, into a valley that was as lush as a rain forest.





By the time we were halfway down, the view made the whole trip worthwhile.



At the bottom, the view is spectacular. The falls are 30 metres tall. During the rainy season, we're told, they are one huge waterfall, and they can completely dry up in the dry season. However, we're at just the start of the dry season, so there were two beautiful falls.



You can also swim in the pool -- a few people were already in the water when we arrived. You can see them in this picture, dwarfed by the falls themselves and a huge tree:



Then, suddenly, we learned why the area looked so much like a rain forest. A big black cloud appeared in the previously-clear sky, and moments later it started raining. Not a drizzle, either: monsoon-type rains.

Wendy changed into her swimsuit and went for a swim. [Wendy notes: I figured I'd get wet swimming anyway, so a little rain shouldn't keep me from enjoying the falls!] I stood under a tree. We thought it would pass.

Instead, it rained harder and harder. Soon I was soaked. In about ten minutes our back packs, our clothes, books, money, and cell phones were just as wet. We decided to head back up the stairs, which by this time were another waterfall -- those large trenches were overflowing with water.

At the top we laughed and enjoyed being cold for a change! In this photo, you can see two trenches full of water rushing past either side of the Land Rover:



Then we headed back to the bar to wait for the rain to let up so we could try to hail a taxi back to Koforidua.

The women who had cheered us up earlier were still there. They cheered us some more and invited us to join them. Turns out they were "baby catchers." They were just finishing up their midwife training and were out on a class trip enjoying the holiday.

One woman, Viv, was wearing a baseball cap advertising Club Beer, a local brew, and I traded her for my Alexander Keith's cap. The entire group was elated. Numbers and addresses were exchanged, and many photos were taken.



Then, when they found out that we had no transportation back to Koforidua, they insisted that we get in their bus with them.

There wasn't room for everyone on the bus so two people had to stand because they insisted that we sit.


Jason and Viv

They sang songs of praise to Jesus and when Wendy asked for some Christmas carols, they were happy to oblige. We couldn't help but be moved by their friendship and generosity and high spirits:



After they dropped us off, we found our trotro back to Accra, with rain still pouring down around us. It was empty and looked like it might not leave until the following day. We asked the mate where we could get some fufu and he led us away to a chop bar behind a building.

They were all out of fufu and banku but had our favourite, omo tuo, rice balls. We ordered them with groundnut soup -- big bowls for 7000 cedis, about $1 CDN. The mate asked for some, too, and after the generosity of the midwives we didn't hesitate to get him a bowl, too.

Back at the trotro stop, he led us to the restrooms. What a sight! I won't go into details, but imagine the worst bathroom at a reststop along the TransCanada Highway, then remove the actual toilet, leaving only a hole, turn off running water, and add a couple hundred people per day. Yeesh. And, like most public toilets in Ghana, they cost money! Only a quarter. But still!

After braving the loo, we still faced a long trip back to Accra in the dark. We were still wet and even more exhausted, but happy.

When we arrived home, there was electricity and enough running water to clean up, hurray! A couple of glasses of inexpensive South African red wine capped off what had started out as a tough day but ended up being one of our best.