Back after a break.....

Hello to those of you who have managed to enter this intricate world. I tried to get through myself to check on my last entry and it was a nightmare! So congratulations a very big 'thank you' to those of you who left messages, which I have just learnt to open.




.......................................................ACCRA!..................in Ghana

Ages since I have been able to spend time at a keyboard, so this is the update:

Went through Togo like a dose of salts..... Sounds impressive, but when you look at the map and realise that it is a small, elongated country, you can see why it was so easy. Lome is the capital and it is on the border with Ghana----the only capital city in the world which is on a border and that explains it's history well, as the original Togo, as designated by the Germans in 1884, was twice the size. After WWl, the French and English divided it and the English incorporated its part with Ghana (Gold Coast then). The Togoese calmly, as they are a very peaceful nation, hope to reincorporate it into Togo again one day. Ghana does not seem too keen to have the Eastern lake/mountain area anyway.

I stayed in Lome for quite a time and then went about 120 km North West to the mountains where I spent another week walking and eating mangoes before returning to Lome and eventually getting to Accra ( just over 2 hours by bus away) for the meeting with Margaret and her fellow-delegates who had chosen to do a post-conference tour of the Southeren part of Ghana. We went to the East Coast Slave Castles, had a fabulous canopy walk in a rainforest and then went North to Kumasi, the centre of the Ashanti empire (that was) with its royal palace (the King was in mourning, so we did not have the promised audience). Lots and lots of information from our professional Guide and places to see and places to spend money. The night we returned, Margaret gave me a present of sharing a room with her in the Hotel where the Queen slept (and a Mr. T. Blair, but he is not of importance). The next day was spent lounging by the pool......Now back in my modest hotel near the centre of town.


Also back now to my original idea which has taken so long to get down to typing....





......................................... 21 KILOS continued......



Helen P.
A few Christmasses ago, Helen gave me a wooden container of bath utensils. One of these is a loofah-enclosed brush. Boy, is it useful in those Cathedrals of Voluptuousness, the Hamam! Or anywhere else one needs to scrub off the African sand and grime. Let no-one mistake this statement....it is GRIME. Because one is constantly walking in sandals, the detrius of a city very soon penetrates every exposed pore. Sadly, the tap has replaced the bucket and there are no longer hamams in non-Arabic areas.

Hilda Too (also).
or Hilda Two or Hilda Matthews -- my namesake and email buddy who took the address Francis was trying to get for me. So we became friends and over the ether, her sense of humour and love just radiated. I have wice visited that trailer-home in Idaho. It is stuffed so full of love that one is overwhelmed by all the love pouring out as you enter. Can so much love possibly be contained in so small a place? Hilda takes up a large part of my heart and I carry it heavily with me. As well as the container of Idaho Cream she gave me once. If you have ever suffered from rough skin on elbows or heels, take a potato, slice it and rub on the rough area. It is nature's answer to having a cream. Idaho is famous for its potatoes. And this is just the best handcream I have ever had!

Hotter.
This shoe firm has been my supplier of shoes for many years. It just seems to know what an old lady with broad feet and heavy walking needs. Their shoes have been through so many countries with me that thy deserve special mention. I first put them on during his trip in the Dogon Country. Walking up and down rocky paths and in thick sand proved no problem. I did not twist an ankle or ever feel uncomfortable in the heat of the desert. For many hundreds of years, the Dogon People have used their paths in which the stones are very well-bedded so that they never rock and the women carrying large, heavy containers of water, will not falter. When I was in the mountain area of Togo, the walking was different; along small paths amongst tropical bushes and often wet after a downpour of rain. Once again the shoes were ideal. So no need for proper hiking shoes.

Incontact.
Having a bladder problem and being able to admit to it and talk about it, is largely due to the great support from Incontact, a charity helping and advising people with these problems.. When I left them, they graciously presented me with a solar-powered radio! What luxury! This was when I was still going to do the trip by Land Rover. Sadly, I have to confess that the rucsac-travel option was not going to be kind to this wonderful machine and I have temporarily swapped it with Ingrid for a smaller, more robust wind-up radio. When I get back though, the solar-powered radio will be the star of the show when I am in my garden, where I have promised myself many hours of digging..... The BBC World Service has been the other star. Not so easy to get in the Arabic/French-speaking countries, but once in Ghana, a really wonderful companion. Laying under the stars on a rooftop and listening to Daniel Barenbohm give a Reeth Lecture, or stories of Africa, can transport one to another world. One of the latter was about the vast business of second-hand clothes which is overwhelming Africa. We in the West so easily discard our clothes when they are not yet worn out. We give them to Charities in the belief that we are going to help those in countries like Africa who cannot afford such luxuries as 'new' clothes. However, let us not forget all of us who buy our secondhand clothes with pride in the Charity Shops in the UK. But, the Charities are overwhelmed with clothes, so a large business has arisen where they sell them to middlemen who then sell them in large sorted bales to the women who sell them in the street/markets of all the African countries. These are bought with pride and it is said that the most sought-after are those which show the creases made by the baling twine; genuine article... The down side to this is the fact that this trade has put genuine clothes poducers out of work. In Lusaka, which was given as an example, the three businessmen of one firm who exported these clothes last year, made a profit of 100,000 pounds (US$ 50,000) each. The Lusaka clothes' manufacturer, whom they interviewed, said he used to employ 1,000 workers and is now bankrupt. How does one solve such a problem? Here in Accra, I had two days on my back as I had twisted it when helping a woman fill her watercontainer with even more water once it was on her head. Bending over the waterbutt, pulling up the water and then lifting it to pour into her basin on her head, was too much for a softy like me, so I decided, after a week of riding in a bus, to take a proper rest. After weeks of not knowing what is going on in the world, I can now tell you all the world news you want....clear BBC reception.

Ingrid B.
A tremendous support over many years, Ingrid got it right with a gift of a book. 'The Shadow of the Wind' lay amongst my things to pack and was just what I needed with which to start the trip and relax in Agadir....under a tree, by the pool, in the airconditioned room, in a park, on the beach... As I read, I admired the quality of the translation from the Spanish original. Only at the end of the book did I see that it had been translated by the daughter of Robert Graves. As a Guide, this brings to mind one of my stories I tell tourists who visit Poets' Corner in Westmister Abbey. (OK you can skip this if you are not yet totally bored). There is a plaque in the floor for the First World War Poets...quite a few names. However, the only one of these illustrious poets who was still alive when the plaque was unveiled, was Robert Graves. Not many people can claim such distinction, I think.
My other story is totally unrelated; In 1963 (Yes, that is where I was when Kennedy was shot), Margaret and I were living in Tangier. We were regularly invited to Sundy lunch by a wonderfully small, round woman who lived on her own and would always end the meal with slices of orange soaked in Contriue (sorry about spelling!). Afterwards she would dance around the room saying 'I am pixilated'. No one would have guessed that she wrote steamy Mills and Boon novels..... The other evening, which had been given to me as a present by Margaret, when we spent the night in the Hotel used by the Queen (and T. Blair if you must...), I consumed most of the bottle of brandy Margaret had brought along. It reminded me of our previous times together; I was pixilated.

Ingrid.
Everybody says their daughter is the best. I cannot argue with that. I could not wish for a better daughter. Constant advice and tremendous awareness of all the practicalities I shall be facing. The body belt for money, given years ago, is still in constant use. She sensibly made me practice can-opening with the Swiss Army Knife she gave me. Not one of those impractical monsters, but a slim-line one to which was attached a long string so that one cannot easily loose it. The first time I used the knife, during the first stop in the bus after leaving Agadir, I peeled a mango and left the knife on the wall.....This was a good lesson in sharpening my awareness about loosing things. Sadly, there have been other losses from inattentiveness brought on by fatigue. Her Pyranha waterbottle is a steady companion. I wondered why she seemed to put store to such a gift. Then someone told me that it is unbreakable and the best thing I can have....so I am suitably impressed and really have mistreated it with no damage to its water-holding ability. The times it has relieved thirst and cooled me down by wetting my clothes! The waterproof document case is reassuring, although I have not yet been in a situation where I am worried about my passport being stolen. This will surely come as I move south out of the safe Islamic area and into parts of Africa where theft is more common. Ingrid lent me her Body Shop T shirt which said 'now you see them' and on the back ' now you don't' when I cycled in Uganda/Rwanda for the Dian Fossy Gorilla Fund. This time she gave it to me and it was soon worn out with all the fully-clothed swimming I was doing in the Niger. I gave it to a little boy who had accompanied my bullock cart one aftrnoon in Dogon Country. This was when my minder was looking after me when I suffered from heat-stroke and had no energy to walk the 5 sandy kilometers to our village of the night. It was late and the bullock driver would have had to return to his village in the dark. The little boy suddenly appeared and said that he had been sent by the cart-owner to accompany the cart-driver back in the dark. The Dogon people are very aware of the spirit world around them, and it would have been frightening to travel alone.
All those laminated documents! Ingrid cleverly uses her laminater for all kinds of things to do with work, so to have the use of that was wonderfully convenient. In my flat, it took pride of place as I was packing and anything related to paper was soon laminated. It has meant that documents that are frequently handled are not made grubby, and they are actually very impessive, so when I tell people about my fish-research, they can read it in English, French or Arabic and are suitably impressed. The document gets shown and passed from one to another...And the labels on my rucsacs are not yet peeling or curled up. Nor are the sturdy Zips on the rucsacs sticking or misbehaving. Ingrid made sure that they were all waxed and treated with Ziplock.
I take a Vitamin B tablet every day. This is my only concession to modern medicine so far. Because I do not like to take malaria tablets, Ingrid suggested that those little mossies do not like skin that smells of yeast. We await the results. I know it sound very irresponsible not to take something, but as I do not know where I will be when and this is a long holiday, as well as there being different strains which not all tablets can protect one from, it really is a game of roulette. Yes, I have recently heard of two European cases where people known to friends died and of one of intensive care in Hospital. Then one sees so many people here in Africa who take it as it comes and have various herbs to drink etc. Most are just taken to hospital for something and appear none the worse.... As long as it is not Cerebral Malaria, as Margaret said. But then I will not know and my lifeline is long.... One has to have a sense of fatalism on a trip like this. Ingrid got me the long-sleeved shirt and trousers which are made from non-mosquito-piercing material, and if they cover most of my body when there are mossies about at night, I should be reasonably safe. When I recently wore the trousers, I decided to unzip the bottom bits and use them as shorts. I had noticed a little label on the left zip which had an 'L' on it, so assumed the trousers were 'Large'. Only when it came to rezipping the leggings, did I notice that the right leg has an 'R' on the label. Now I feel like a child who has shoes with 'L' & 'R' on them!
There is a small (Keyring size) calculator in my bumbag. Ingrid knows how hopeless I am at calculating the different values of the different monies (17,000 Cifa to the pound in Ghana!), but I cussedly believe that I do not need a calculator and have not used it. I have been warned often enough to keep an eye on moneychangers, and they are the only ones I have used so far, and have invariably caught them out when they either cleverly switch the calculation on the machine in the palm of their hand in front of you, or count out the bulk and then dismissively give you the last lot, as though you can surely trust them now.... And when you point it out, they graciously give what you should get (or at least what you bargained for) and honour is restored and you leave with a smile. All in the day's work...... In Ghana, everyone walks around with vast quantities of notes, but at least no coins are used. Jenny told me that in Zimbabwe, a 500,000 dollar note was recently issued. Value 5 pounds (10 us $).


James B. and Andy S.
Both doctors of parasitology and very impressive-looking on their Stirling University-headed notepaper letter of explanation to anybody who questions what I am doing. Being such dedicated marine biologists, James and Andy have given me the ideal opportunity to do some research for them. With those translated letters of introduction and many and various items to go with the disecting kit and phials of laboratory alcohol, I was given a swift lesson in how to gather gills and fins and put them in the liquid for posting. All very interesting as it has often given me a purpose to go somewhere or to involve the locals or to have an excuse to watch a catch being brought in. In no time one has a crowd of people around one and they enthusiastically bring forth all kinds....getting paid for it is also an incentive of course. I hope I can continue with this as my rucsac gets lighter through loss or discard and the authorities so far have shown no interest whatsoever in its contents. Also the letters are impressive enough to be read in awe rather than used as an excuse to look through the stuff. If I remember correctly, there are 21 identified fish parasites in the UK, but only 2 in the whole of Africa. We could be on to something here.....

Jane T.
Jane was one of the original professional Tourist Guides in London. A great linguist, this tiny woman guided well into her 80s, although it came as a great surprise to find out when she died that she was 92 years old. We became friends so that when she died, her executor asked me to help clear out her house. It was packed to the rafters with wonderful things she had accumulated during a lifetime of travel. I was told to help myself to whatever I wanted after the assessors had been. The (then brand new) purse I use all the time is very handy with its various pockets for essential bits and pieces as well as large notes and coins. Even my passport... The little silk scarf she loved, I brought as a talisman, but when I tried to wash out the desert dust the first time, it disintegrated. But the earrings she wore, are in my 'jewelry bag' for 'best'. Not had a chance to dress up yet. Another invaluable item I always knew would be handy one day, was a bar of Fairy Soap, which had been languishing in the kitchen. Wonderful what you find when you decide to have a clear-out or, as in my case, a clean-out for future tenants. The bar of soap was very useful for 'smalls'. I made a dreadful mistake one day. My large items of clothing are given to the many men and women who do washing in all the towns and villages. I notice on a Sunday in Accra, when the usual sellers are away, that the time for washing takes over and the pavements are strewn with drying clothes. Anyway, I had given some clothes to my Minder in Mopti to give to the washerwoman and he came back very agitated. Amongst the things was a pair of knickers (yes, the Dior ones!) and the women regard it as an insult as they never wear smalls and would never wash those of others. I had to pay double for that lot.
More than anything for which I am beholden to Jane, is the fact that her executors gave me 5,00 pounds from her legacy. It is this bequest that I am using and which has made this trip possible. Such an unexpected gift has changed my life......

Jeannette D.
Jeannette knew that I needed practical items and her supply of ziplock plastic bags has been ideal in the desert (as Vinca said, 'sand gets everywhere') and helps to keep things in order. There are certain items I have not yet used (like 'best' clothes) and the bags have kept them firmly at the bottom of the rucsac.

Jenny C.
Life throws wonderful things at one and the sudden appearance of Jenny, whom I last saw as a 7 year old on her father's ranch in Zimbabwe, was one of those occasions. Jenny is now a confident young lady who is taking a gap year before going to University in South Africa. She knows and loves Zim very much and inspired me to rethink my trip. Zimbabwe is certainly back on the list of countries to visit and her father has been encouragingly saying, 'when is Hilda coming to stay with us?' I love the ranch and the great outdoors it represents. Why go to a Wildlife Park when I can roam on this ranch and see the animals all around me? So a definite 'must' on this trip. But Jenny was just the right person to arrive in London to look for work and help me out when I was wavering or needed stuff doing. Her practical suggestions and advice and ability to just do things for me was great. For example, she went to the computer and found out which visas I needed and where to get them. She helped me decide on the practical and very sensible rucsac, on the sleeping bag and gave advice on malaria and also the confidence to me to know that I can buy anything I need in Afica. The latter is so true; you just stand on the side of the road and the whole supermarket and more comes to you. Africa is a country of small business people. They do not keep money in their pockets and as one thing is sold, another is bought. And the word 'recycle' can be given its roots in this country where everything that has lost its original purpose and which can possibly be used for another purpose, is converted instantly, put on sale and then copied by many. So you have whole areas of specialist items that reflect reuse. Car parts into farm implements or cement bags into shopping bags. One of my favourites is to see how the old hubs of car wheels are used as bases for the inevitable umbrellas the street sellers need. So Jenny sensibly and charmingly helped me to hide my money, laminated documents, chose which family photos I'll like to look at .... It became a 'just ask Jenny' time and I remember so fondly the help she gave.


Josephine Du P.
Grandmother of gentle Jenny and my 'family' in South Africa. Her mother was my mother's school friend. She is an 'earth mother' if ever there was one. If only Josephine could visualise the comfort I get from the 'neck rest' cushion she made and gave to me so many years ago! It is reasonably small and soft to fold away, but wherever I travel, it comes out and gives the necessary support. When I am reading or sleeping on a hard floor, that cushion is my comfort. And it lulls me to sleep as it returns to Africa from whence it came.

Now I am getting sentimental and will go back to the city centre of Accra to work out my next move.