It’s been a long time since we’ve been anywhere outside of
Tema. For one thing we are always busy busy busy. For another we have three
kids who always seem to have something needing to be done over the weekend. And
for another, we have a car that, that… well, let’s just say I am being kind
calling it a car. In truth, our 1994 Nissan Quest is more my husband’s
obsession. He is convinced there is still good in there and has spent
waaaayyyyy more money on repairing her than I am comfortable revealing. I, on
the other hand, am certain that that car is the devil incarnate. Certainly it
hates me and the feeling is reciprocal. I refuse to drive it, knowing it will
conk out on me in the ghastliest place in Tema. Among friends and family I joke
and say, well, the car is older than Sean, after all, and we can’t get him to
do all that we ask either.
But then along came the newest addition to our family, a
hand-me-down 2000 Ford Excursion. It is a beast, a 9-seater with a V10 engine
and it purrs like a kitten. I love that car. She handles like a dream – push 75
or 80 mph on the motorway and you’d never even feel it, she’s that good.
We recently took our Excursion on our first family
excursion, in celebration of Alexandra’s 11th birthday and our destination
was Keta. Now we haven’t been there in many years, when we stayed at Lorneh
Lodge. Our intent then, as was now, was to relax, eat, swim a bit and do a
little ocean fishing.
Not all of those things were accomplished then. The Lorneh Lodge
was nice by Ghanaian standards, but the food horrible – I might have revealed
that in a previous post. I ordered noodles au gratin for Alexandra to eat; what
we got was a bowl of overcooked spaghetti with a slice of sandwich cheese on
top (think the generic version of Kraft American singles – yeah, that’s it). It
was not nice. I remember I opted for spicy shrimp with pasta, which might have
been okay if I could have actually swallowed it – it was that spicy.
So, off we drove on Saturday with lowered expectations (have I ever
mentioned my favorite quotation? No? “The key to happiness is lowered
expectations,” Chuck Finster, Rugrats) we drove to Keta in our cushy new
air-conditioned car.
We left early Saturday morning and the kids slept soundly
until we reached Sogakope. From there it’s only another 45 minutes but since we
weren’t sure what kind of food we were going to get at the restaurant we
thought it best to fill up. That’s always a good stop-over point anyway because
you can get the best kenkey and fish around, which Alex and I pigged out on,
while Mike opted for waakye, as he always does (rice and beans with an
assortment of other semi-edible stuff).
Sean continued to sleep in open-mouthed splendor; Ghanaian
food holds no lure for him.
By 9:00 am we were in Keta, at Lorneh Lodge Beach Resort
which is just a few blocks from the original Lorneh Lodge and fronts the ocean. And that was a good
thing that it is so close to the original lodge because we had to go back there to register and get
the key, and then had to drive back the staff member who came to open the door
to our suite.
Now, we were told we had a family suite which had two
bedrooms, a living area and dining area, a bathroom and a kitchen. The kitchen
was a kitchen in name only; it was a tiny alcove which bore only a sink and a fridge. But the rest of
the family suite was perfectly fine; it was spacious, clean, neat; there was
hot water in the bathroom, the beds were large, the coverlet and shams pretty.
My only complaint was the pillows, which were stuffed with rocks.
Outside, hotel management had created a raised wooden deck
where you could take your lunch and a soda a beer or two while watching the ocean. We were too far to
see where the waves broke but it was still nice. A swimming pool is also being
added and was under construction; it will likely be ready within a few weeks or so which will be a very
nice addition.
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| "What?! No swimming?!" |
I cannot wait for the pool to be finished. Even though I love the beach, and have always loved the
beach – I mean I wouldn’t be a Jersey girl
otherwise – as a 50-something with three school-age children, beaches scare the
crap out of me. In Keta, the beach is clean (yes, CLEAN!), beautiful and wild. But there are
no lifeguards here. If you go in, you are on your own and you take your life in
your hands. I even checked the tide charts and we ventured in during low tide, and
still the undertow was incredible.
On Saturday, I knew we had already missed the daytime low tide and
there was no way I would let the kids swim; they were as pissed as you can
imagine. Only the promise of a quick road trip to Aflao and the CEPS canteen
would appease them. If you’re ever planning to go to Aflao or crossing the
border into Togo,
be sure to stop and eat at the CEPS canteen.
The CEPS border guards might be a bunch of [fill in your own blank] yahoos but the canteen they run is incredible
with good, cheap and abundant food. If you like Ghanaian soups and stews,
you’ll find none better. More the “continental” type? Try the fried rice and
beef sauce. Delish. And since you’re in Aflao anyway, stop at a local market stall
and pick up some fresh baguettes which are brought in daily from Togo –
they are wonderful! And don’t forget to buy a bag of local salt – that stuff is
amazing! So beautiful and white and enticing that you’ll want to rush out and
buy a margarita mix.
Anyway, when we got back to the resort it was late afternoon so we walked
the beach collecting shells and catching little crabs. Nothing out of the
ordinary here, though we did come across a dead puffer fish that was apparently tossed away from a fishing boat. That
was pretty interesting; did you know puffer fish were poisonous? Cool!
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| Mike with inedible but fun-to-catch crab |
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| Alex caught one, too |
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| RIP Mrs. Puff |
By night fall, we ordered room service (without going into
details here, let it suffice to say that some things never change), watched
football and went to bed.
I love sunrises. As a kid, in the summer when we went to Seaside Park for vacation, my
dad used to wake up early and head for the beach a block away. I’d hear him
sneak out and then I’d quickly dress and run to catch up with him so we could
watch together. Those mornings were some of my best memories. Saturday February
4th would have been his 76th birthday. We didn’t get to
see the sunrise on Sunday morning, clouds spoiled it for us, but it was still
good. Dad was there.
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| Alex waiting for sunrise |
But low tide officially came in shortly after sunrise and I
had kids begging to swim.
I was a paranoid wreck.
I can swim, and I am a good enough, experienced enough
swimmer to save myself if I got caught in an undertow or a riptide. I know what
to do. Sean and Mike are also good, strong swimmers and I am not (as) worried about them.
Alex, on the other hand, can swim a little better than okay
– if she is in a pool. But she has limitations, and the first one is that she
is as skinny as a rail (still, only about 70 lbs) and even a little wave can
knock her on her ass. Her next limitation is that she has a mom who is an old
lady. I cannot get to her quickly enough if I need to, especially if I am in
the trench that sits only a few feet from where the waves break. Then there’s
her diabetes; when she is having fun she doesn’t feel, or else totally ignores,
her lows. That is a dangerous combination.
She had one low episode on the beach, after the swimming was
over and we were collecting shells. I had already let Sean go back up to the
room and had him bring the bags with him. I know, I am an idiot – what was I
thinking? I was about 20 feet away from her when she called to me. I’m low. I
knew. And we were still about 200 (very sandy) yards away from the hotel, and
the glucose tabs. I had Mike run ahead and get a soda ready. We walked slowly,
she got there and gulped it down and we went into the suite. She tested at 42
after the bottle of soda so I can only imagine how low she really was.
The rest of the morning passed quickly after that, since we
needed to leave to be home in time for the Ghana game. Along the way as we
drove toward Dabala Junction, we passed several boys who were selling
fresh-caught crabs. Hoping that they were my favorite blue claw crabs that we usually get from Atiavi we stopped and found that they were the kind that Ghanaians
love with a big humped back and killer claws. Sly took the lot of them home for
25 cedis and they are now residing in three large plastic bowls where they are
being lovingly cared for and fed a diet of palm nuts and cassava, in the hope
that they will grow bigger and fatter and juicier, destined for okro stew.
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| Very edible crabs and someone's new obsession |
All in all, I couldn’t have asked for a better first excursion, don’t
you agree?
