180 miles(4193 miles to date)
During the night the man next door woke me up by his coughing. It happened to be the same man who helped clean my bike and is working as the hotel supervisor. I left my room for a cigarette where I found him on the communal balcony dripping in sweat. I asked what the problem was and he replied saying he had a cold. “I’m far from qualified but you look as if you have Malaria” I said to the man. He agreed, so I shared some of my medication with him.
Waking up before sun rise to Cockerels crowing, in a different place every day not knowing what that day’s adventure will be, reminds me of why I am here. I climbed aboard the bike and set off down the pot holed road just about being able to make out the outline of village roadside shacks through the thick smoke caused by the women preparing the barbecued fuelled cooking stoves that will last throughout the day as the men cut the fire wood by the side of the road. I press play on my ipod and listen to Classic American Anthems as I ride along and realise how lucky I am.
As I pass through the villages, the locals stop and stare with mouths wide open, then either wave welcomingly, or run in to the bushes and hide, in fear of my roaring machine.
The road from Wa to Wenchi is probably the best tarmacked road I have driven on up to now and it actually shows as unfinished on my Michelin map. Because of this I managed two days predicted riding by early afternoon meaning I am now back on schedule. There are hardly any other vehicle’s using the roads apart from the odd scooter. Police checks are not as frequent as in Mauritania or Mali but still present along with the odd customs check point. Unlike Burkina where they just waved me through, the Ghanaian Police wave me down to stop at each check point but not to check my documents, they are simply interested in the motorcycle and my journey.
Many of the Ghanaian people have said to me they would like to visit or live in England. I tried explaining to them including the Police Officers that the grass is not always greener on the other side and that they have a beautiful country with wonderful people and cultures.
Tonight, I stay at the Baan hotel which unfortunately has no water supply. Not once has my motorcycle alarm been activated whilst travelling through the previous countries, here it has sounded twice. I questioned the man and asked what right he has to climb aboard my motorcycle and explained I wouldn’t climb on his without permission, he sheepishly walks away. I explain to the hotel staff how important my vehicle is to me and they kindly suggest I park it in the reception which I do. All I require is a shower, somewhere to sleep regardless of the condition of the rooms and security for my motorcycle, none of which are being provided I also tell them. Afterwards, I feel guilty and wondered what my reply would have been to the man if he retaliated by saying, what right have you got traveling through my country flaunting your wealth?
Campsites are not available and tents unheard of in this part of West Africa apart for settlement encampments which in future I may choose to sleep, just to avoid these busy towns.