We've become quite fascinated by stories about traveling round Ghana. the buses, tro-tros and departures on African time, it all sounds so vibrant.
Jonathan Rivers' has written a really interesting post about his journey to Mole National Park with friends. By the third paragraph of his post, Jonathan was already on to Plan C of his journey options. Very funny and definitely worth a read.
And in Loren Price's post about her journey back to Ghana from Timbuktu you can really feel her exhaustion after three days without showering, lots of waiting and many, many crossed wires.
Kelly with a couple of her pupils

Inspired by all of this, we wondered about the less epic journeys in Ghana - what is traveling like for your average commuter? Luckily, Kelly Avery was there to answer this for us. Kelly has been volunteering in Ghana for almost six weeks as a Teaching Assistant at a Street Academy in Accra for disadvantaged children who can't afford to attend school. Kelly's going to be in Ghana for another six weeks, so if there's anything else you'd like to know about Accra, other parts of Ghana, culture, climate, the fantastic food on offer or the wonderful kids she works with, feel free to ask in the comments section of this post.
To start with though, here's what she told us about a journey through Accra:
As I approach the long line of tro-tros, I listen out for the familiar frantic cry of Accra-cra-cra-cra-cra’. I peer at the windows of the various vehicles, looking out for the one branded ‘GOD IS GOOD’ that I know travels to where I wish to go.
Kelly's tro-tro
After a fifteen minute walk in the drenching humidity, I squeeze my way through people and seats hoping to get a spot by the window as I embark on the second leg of my journey to work.
Getting cosy with the people of NimaSitting shoulder to shoulder, knee to back with the people of Nima (woman in elaborately patterned dresses with matching head wraps and babies strapped to their backs, elderly gentlemen in floor-length white gowns, and business men in shirts and ties), I wonder how they manage to remain looking so pristine in an environment already approaching 80 degrees.
The GOD IS GOOD store Kelly drives past
As we tear through the streets, we pass the ‘Divine Touch Barbering Salon’ and ‘God is Good Fashion Design Store’. Many Ghanaians like to name their businesses after religious slogans so to promote their faith in Christianity. Other tro-tros we pass are named ‘Who knows tomorrow?’ and ‘In His own time’.
My twenty minute journey is a snip at the equivalent of just 15 pence (or 30 Ghanaian pesewas). I hand my 50 pesewas coin to the person sat in front of me and it’s passed from person to person until it reaches the mate (driver’s assistant); my change travels back along the same sea of hands. The mate is also responsible for making sure the ‘tro stops to let passengers on and off, but to successfully alight at the right place, you must yell out the word ‘mate’ as you approach your destination. My pronounciation of the word mate however, an almost Cockney version with the emphasis on the ‘a’, usually tends to fall on deaf ears. As I journey home, I often have to rely on other passengers who sensing my frustration, will kindly shout ‘mate’ in their distinct Ghanaian tone so that I can get off at the right stop.
Plantain chips? Anyone?
By far the best way to attract anyone’s attention here however is to hiss at them! (It’s a perfectly acceptable way of alerting somebody of your presence!). It’s particularly useful when the ‘tro is at a standstill and you suddenly realise you need some pure water (filtered water sold in nifty little plastic bags), or more likely in my case, a bag of plantain chips. After a short sharp ‘sssttt’ followed by declaring what it is you wish to buy, the correct vendor will come to your window and remove the goods from a container perfectly propped upon their head. What one can but from the (relative) comfort of their seat never fails to amaze or amuse me. The abundance of goods I’ve seen for sale includes: chocolate, some of the best ice cream I’ve ever tasted, footballs, superglue, toilet paper, puppies (?!) and my favourite to date, a large electronic keyboard. I had been hoping to buy a keyboard before I left the UK, but I am not yet well versed enough in the bartering system to secure a bargain of such an item in the time it takes the lights to change.
As I reach my destination, and jump of the ‘tro into the equally colourful, chaotic and claustrophobic environment of Tema Station, I am greeted by a passer by with a friendly ‘Welcome. How are you?’. Accra may be an imposing and manic city, but its people never fail to be kind and hospitable.
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