Lord have mercy! I actually slept well on my penultimate night in Ghana.
I took pictures of European and African dignitaries, and Al Gore, in the hotel hall of fame prior to walking.
(Please click on individual pictures to see the full view, then click on the browser back arrow to return to blog view.)
For the second time during a walk, the sky was clear enough to see the sunrise.
We walked upon a soccer team playing catch while in waist-deep water. One player had dug a hole, buried one of his feet and worked out his free leg, using resistance.
Our tour guide finally joined us, late, but walked back with us.
“You’re done!” RC said to her sneakers as she laid them out on the balcony to donate. I did the same with my blown-out shoes.
I’d collected shells for my other sister although they were not too impressive. I hardly enjoyed the beachcombing experience due to all the trash washing up. I couldn’t even use the ocean waves to rinse off the shells well because of the presence of plastic bags.
I changed into my new tailored shirt, which looked better than the original. My motivation came from our tour guide who said that he always wore traditional fabric on Fridays. Sounded appropriate for my last full day in Ghana.
I exchanged $150 to pay for a book, Proudly Ghanaian, by Prof Kwesi Yankah, which had been described to me as “social satire at its best,” and to tip out our six support staff. I gave money to three of the six other members who were collecting money for support staff since they were conveniently poolside.
I entered the spa to get a massage, but there was no availability until 3 PM. As I stood, looking forlornly at the reservation book, the front desk woman stated that I could get a 30-min massage for just my neck, shoulders and back. I agreed. After waiting for a bit, the front desk woman consulted with a massage therapist who agreed to work on me for an hour.
The massage therapist was AMAZING. At one point, she worked over my back with her forearms, then like magic, went over my back with hot stones. Every little bit helped. Both my right hip flexor and low back were tight. Good to loosen up everything just in time for contorting myself on that Accra to NY flight. At least the wine would be free and I’ll be able to watch movies.
Don’t know why I thought I could have two amazing experiences in a row, but I parked myself in a poolside lounge chair and ordered what I thought was a simple samosa appetizer, which didn’t come after an hour. Not sure whether it was the actual heat, hunger or anger that overheated me, but I couldn’t stand it any longer.
I returned to my room to eat some of RC’s snacks. Since the room was being cleaned, I gobbled a few snacks and returned to the lobby to give my appetizers one last try.
I approached a woman who looked like a supervisor and explained the situation. Within five minutes, a server delivered a hot order of samosas to the table. Lord only knows how long they’d been ready.
Crisis averted.
I immediately asked for the bill and a to-go box. Once the supervisor brought the change, I handed all of it to her while shaking her hand, thanking her for her quick problem-solving actions. She had a big beautiful smile. I’m sure some butts got chewed out. I shared with her that I was quite angry before and she had turned my attitude around.
We looked like a Ghanaian fashion show, riding to the early dinner, which also included a recognition ceremony where the support staff had voted which one of us tour members were “the most” in various categories.
The categories that I won were: most athletic, most African and most intellectual. One cousin with mobility challenges won the most adventurous category.
The six tour members who had collected money to tip the staff made short, heartfelt speeches, praising the good works of the six staff members before presenting them with their envelope of money.
At one point, I offered Money Man some chocolate. Apparently, I’d miscommunicated because he took the whole bag and put it in his bag, thanking me for the chocolate. Hopefully, he wasn’t offended that all of the chocolate bars had been opened.
Rain Goddess got the ball rolling with the table and four chair donations for the school we’d visited by pledging five sets. On the bus, others pledged to donate money for the remaining table and chairs until the requested 33 sets had been met. We all applauded the generosity.
Once we returned to the resort, we took pictures by the waterfall.
The final Strange happy hour started when I messaged my niece about an unopened malbec and half a bottle of sweet white. Most arrived while I was in the shower, but I told them to open the malbec. As usual, Rain Goddess came about an hour later with ANOTHER partially filled bottle of sweet blush. That got the party going again.
If the calm happens before the storm, then the nightmare unfolds after a day like today.