The Volta

After a week of being glued to my desk writing the first draft of the report I’m working on, I decided to spend Easter weekend in the most Eastern part of Ghana, the Volta Region.

            The main reason for tourists to visit Hohoe, the second largest urban centre in Volta, is to find transportation further East to Wli Falls- reputed to be the largest waterfalls in West Africa.  I shared transportation to the falls with two volunteers from Cape Coast, and accompanied by a guide we made our way down a mountainous path towards the falls.  The lush forest and the chirping of thousands of bats masked the sight and sound of the crashing falls that lay ahead.  Without such a preview, when we reached the waterfalls after a forty-five minute walk, they appeared like a beautifully kept secret.  If these waterfalls had been anywhere in Thailand, Vietnam, or Australia, they surely would have been swamped with dozens of tour buses, gift shops, and people competing for photo opportunities.  Yet for almost an hour, seven or eight of us had sole license to this tranquil and touchable oasis.

            The only other people splashing around in the lower falls, a group of Canadians and Americans volunteering with Unite for Sight, invited me to join them on a trek to the upper falls.  Wli consists of 3 different drop-off points, and, while reaching the lower falls takes an undemanding 40 minutes on fairly flat ground, reaching the upper falls is a more ambitious hike at two hours uphill.  The upper falls, while no more impressive than the lower, are certainly worth the effort simply for the view.

            Unfortunately, a very good day was soured slightly when I returned to my hotel in Hohoe and found that someone had stolen $50 from my bag- a considerable sum of money in Ghana.  The lock on my room window was broken and because my room was on the ground floor it was quite easy for someone to hop in.  In a moment of pride and anger I stormed to the hotel management and told them if the money was not returned by morning I would turn their favorable rating in the Ghana Guide Book upside down.  The management was very apologetic, and there being no way to determine if they were involved in the theft, I have no intention of pursuing my threat.  Somewhat of a bitter taste, but also a lesson learnt. 

Saturday morning I set off by tro tro in search of Amedzofe, at 611 meters above sea level it is the highest human settlement in Ghana.  I reached a village called Fume (Foo-May), the closest base to Amedzofe, but was shocked at the price that the only person capable of driving me up the bumpy mountain road was asking for.  ‘Don’t fret’, a friendly local hunter said, ‘You can walk.  There is a path.  It’s steep but it should only take about an hour’.  With my ego nicely massaged from the previous day’s trek, and the enduring hubris from the Kilimanjaro climb, I thought one-hour uphill should be but a pleasant stroll.  With only half of a small bottle of water in hand I set off through the thickets of forest and up the rocky trail.  Very anxious to reach the top before noon I moved at far too quick a pace.  After about an hour of walking, and with the last droplet of water gone, I was certain that I had taken a wrong turn.  Every blind rustle in the forest had me convinced that a predator had strayed from one of the surrounding national parks and was now stalking me.  I continued forward, my pace now slowed to a crawl, the sun baking my skin, and my body dripping with sweat.  When I began to feel dizzy I knew that I was in trouble.  My legs collapsed under the weight of my backpack and I keeled over onto the root of a tree.  For some time I laid in the shrubs around the tree feeling like I was going to vomit, but without the energy to contemplate my next move.  Finally, not confident in the prospects of beginning a life as a bush nomad I used my remaining strength to chart a path straight up the hill.  Stopping every few minutes, calling for help with every third breath, I finally came upon what looked like an abandoned concrete structure.  As I inched myself closer to the building, two young girls came running up to me.  Seeming curious as to my desperate state they asked me questions in their local language before running to find their mother.  Their mother, a kind and caring woman, took me into her home, and told me to rest while she offered me water.  With great thanks to her I felt much rejuvenated and was able to complete the final stretch of the trek without further incident.

            After spending much of the trek cursing the local hunter who had urged me up the path, I was now singing his praises.  Amedzofe was well worth the walk for the view of both Mt. Gemi, one of the highest peaks in the country, and a panorama that stretched all the way to Lake Volta.  Still feeling the effects of heat exhaustion I was very fortunate that it was market day in Amedzofe, and rather than having to walk back down to Fume I was able to catch one of the tro tros that was doing laps to and from the regional capital Ho. 

            I spent Sunday in the town of Akosombo, home to the largest dam in Ghana.  I was lucky enough to meet a family from Cote D’Ivoire who offered me a spot in their car while they toured the dam.  The Akosombo Dam is responsible for 60% of Ghana’s electricity, and in terms of surface area the dam regulates the largest artificial lake in the world-Lake Volta.  After our tour was over the Ivorian family was kind enough to give me a lift back to Accra in the luxury of an air-conditioned car. 

What was for me a considerable fear while lying by that tree somewhere near Amedzofe is also something that draws many others to this part of the world.  The opportunity to get lost, to find yourself completely isolated somewhere on a mountain, is not a prospect that exists everywhere.  Canada is certainly home to a beautiful and rugged natural environment, but the demarcation between city and countryside is far more pronounced in Canada.  For so many Ghana continues to exist as a traditional frontier state, where the natural environment is not something to be viewed as part of a weekend getaway, but rather seen as the crucial provider of resources and life.  I certainly was not thinking this while dry heaving somewhere on that mountain near Amedzofe, but after having chugged down two liters of water, filled my stomach with yam and pepper, I realized just how fortunate the experience was.