Our exciting day had started by hiking in Afadjato Mountain, continued with swimming in Tagbo Waterfalls and would end with a beach party in Maranatha beach, or at least that was the plan. After the Waterfalls we headed to Ada Foah. From the narrations of Eduardo, a Brazilian intern, this place would be one of the most beatiful sceneries of Ghana. Every Saturday night the beach is transformed into an outdoor beach club, that promises a lot of fun. Everything was set. We had had contacted the owner of the resort and made reservations for the beach huts. A boat would pick us up from the one side of the lake and deliver us to the other, where the party would take place.
We were all anticipating to test and improve our dancing skills once again. But the way was long, the weather rainy and oops we also got lost. Consequently we arrived at the meeting point a little.. later than agreed. Something around one o clock at night. Needless to say that the party was over and no canoe was waiting for us any more. There was only one solution: to spend the night in our beloved trotro. That would be a bit of a mission, because this time every seat of the trotro was occupied. Thus there was no free space to stretch ones tired bodies. But it was not only us in the trotro. Mouldy clothes and sneaky tropical mosquitos were also accompanying us. The excess amount of the antimosquito spray did not cease their bloodthirsty attacks. Some of us managed to sleep, like the Chinese for example. A couple others stayed outside the trotro for the night. A French and a Brazilian guy were holding their laughter back while watching “Ice Age”. I would switch between the three options, sleeping, “Ice Age”, hanging out.
Finally, the time had come to visit our “Ithaca”. It definately worths waiting for. The sun had just come out, the water was serene and the view hard to describe with words. High palm trees, painted in blue, pink and yellow, were poping up from everywhere. The doors of the beach huts were painted in a flag’s colours (no matter how meticulously I searched, I did not find one in blue and white stripes). The traces of the previous night party were still tangible. At first we laid in the sunbeds in order to regain our horizontal shape. The lake was so calm that even Mario’s (medical student’s) warnings about protozoa infection hazard, did not stop me from diving.
Later on, I decided to follow the bravest to the other side for exploration and swiming in the sea. Just a few steps away from the resort’s area, the rubbish were forming small hills. The sea was just how I remembered it, wild and wavy. Some peculiar, almost transparent, white crabs were running around in great numbers.
A little further from the “touristic” area is laying a small village. The houses are built on the sand and made by palm tree fronds, weaved skillfully. The sun was burning and I was clever enough to not wear my flip flops. Thankfully Mario lent me his. Apart from rubbish hills, I noticed some other hills by shellfish, that in Greece are considered a luxurious delicacy. It seems though that shellfish and tourism has not influenced much the village, whose inhabitants face multiple problems. At some point we encountered a new school, in a basic structure. It does give a spark of hope for the future.