I believe it all started back at that STC bus station, the one that was 'finished' a week prior to our journey and Togo was a nogo. Well the bus wasn't finished on Friday, November 6th it was just severely late. So late that we postponed our departure until the next morning.
As we had waited for the bus to arrive, two elderly women asked us where we were headed. When we answered with, "Aflao" they shook their heads saying "Oh no no don't go tonight, it will be dark when you arrive". This immediately triggered the high voltage security system I installed in my brain before coming to Africa. If these two local Ghanaian women were advising us to take the bus in the morning well who were we to argue?
Brian, being the riskier of us two, decided to step aside and think about our options over a Sprite. He could sense the alarm was ringing loudly in my head so there was no point in asking what I thought. He sipped the soda then agreed there was no reason to interfere with this divine intervention and that we would go in the morning.
So another successfully wasted Friday afternoon was had at the bus station. But before heading back to the apartment we decided to make our way through the surrounding Makola Market and ended up with some produce for dinner. While weaving in and out of the dirt walkways, some local market mamas wanted to know what we were making, was it soup or stew? The only two logical options of course. We blurted out "stew!" not having much thought as to what kind of stew. At that point, ladies from different stalls were excitedly telling us what to add to our stew mixture: tomatoes, okra (got to have okra), peppers, onions and you must have this fishy thing! We happily abided and bought up a bundle of goods for our Makola Market stew special.
In preparing our stew at home that evening, everything was going fine until Brian unwrapped the smelly small rectangular piece of fish substance. The aroma permeated the entire kitchen and then seeped out into the living room. I thought it was bad but Brian thought it would get better once it was cooked. Well, all that needs to be said is, after a few gags on my part and several rounds of incense burning I ended up eating cereal and Brian forged through a plate of only vegetables and rice. The fish swam away down the toilet never to be smelled again.
Now to Togo! The next morning came early as we awoke at 4:30am and departed for our beloved bus station. We arrived and purchased our tickets. Brian hand-shook-snapped an MTN guy - people know us there. We boarded the bus and got cozy in our seats. It was going to be about a 4 hour ride to the border.
We slept a bit on the way. The ride wasn't so bad, we made a few stops here and there to let people off in their respective villages. The scenery changed as we got closer to the border, views of rivers and lagoons and people fishing for their catch of the day.
We arrived in Aflao around 10:30am and it was indeed a border town, busy and bustling with activity. We confirmed when the bus would depart on Monday, the day we'd head back to Accra. And then we set off on foot. The border was very close, not far down the dirt road with a blue archway with a black star of Ghana wishing us a cheerful goodbye. The Ghana visa office was air-conditioned with several people dressed in uniform assisting those coming in and out of the country. We filled out our forms, ended up having to pay an additional 40 cedi each as our passport stamps had expired and we had overstayed our time in Ghana by just a week. At first it seemed like a scam but realized it was legit.
Ghana border - check.
Now onto the Togo border. A border checkpoint can really say a lot about a country. We made our way through a dilapidated wooden lean-two to arrive around the corner at a gentleman sitting behind a desk under the shade in the sweltering heat to fill out our passport forms.
Togo border - simple yet hassle-free.
And we're in! Our guidebook recommended we get our bearings and out of the border noise by tucking away into a small bar not far off the main road. We couldn't find the specific bar but ended up finding a lovely backyard oasis that allowed for a peaceful refuge from the dozens of taxi drivers trying to escort us into their vehicles.
A celebration beer was shared as we planned our next steps. The owner (Richard) of the residence which served as a bar/restaurant/hotel, was very kind and helped us find a taxi that took us to the central taxi stand in Lome. After a bit of haggling from taxi drivers situated just off the beach we were on our way, about a 45 min. drive, to Hotel Le Lac in Agbodrafo.
We got settled in at the hotel which was a beautiful compound facing the banks of Lake Togo. Brian impressively communicated in the bit of French he recalled from those way back years. Togo is a francophone country so going in he knew he had to represent our team in a la francais.
We enjoyed a lovely french influenced lunch of baguette sandwiches and locally brewed Flag beers. We referred to our guidebook to dictate what the afternoon would hold for us. It was off to Togoville and the best way to get there was by boat. We arranged a water transport at the hotel and left the shore around 4pm. Arriving on the shores of Togoville a guide immediately escorted us to the tourist agency located next to the souvenir shop. We were told that if we wanted a guided tour of the village it would be 6,500 CFA per person! Ridiculous! Our guidebook said pay no more than 1500 CFA total (approximately $3). We declined without hesitation and said we would just show ourselves around, it was a small village and we knew what we wanted to see. This seemed to shock the two men running the tourism booth. I showed them the guidebook suggestion and they muttered something in french.
We left them and took off to show ourselves Togoville. Just as we rounded the corner a guy came by and slyly said he would show us around for 2000 CFA. We agreed and he proceeded to give us half-attempted tour of the town. (I guess that's what you get when you don't pay the 'big men' what they want).
Moving along, we peered into the large imposing Catholic church to find hoards of people camping out inside and out. Coincidentally we were there the same day the annual celebration of Pope John Paul's visit to Togoville was taking place. Apparently in the 1970's there was a sighting of the Virgin Mary walking across Lake Togo which prompted the visit.
We continued on and wound through the small village noticing its rusty sunset orange color. We came upon a few voodoo fetish shrines dedicated to fertility. The first one was situated near a house and was clearly the male fetish. Just a block or two down we found the female fetish locked up in a temple. She looked more fierce than her counterpart adorning spikes that jutted all which ways out of her body.
Brian was just about to take a photo of me next to the spiky woman when all of a sudden some nearby children ran over to me. Next thing I know, I am surrounded by cute little smiles standing next me while I'm taking a photo next to a fertility shrine - woah - does this thing really work? Too funny!
The tour didn't provide much more after that so we headed to the souvenir shop and purchased a few little somethings. The sun had just set and we needed to find our boat to get back to the hotel. Enjoying the beautiful colors the sky treated us over the calm waters we were back at Hotel Le Lac by dark.
The next morning we enjoyed a lovely basket of croissants and pot of coffee. I could get used to this french thing! We walked through our day with goals of seeing more of the voodoo culture we heard thrived in Togo. So it was first off to Aneho and a small village just north called Glidji.
Aneho was a quite sleepy town that Sunday morning. We had our taxi driver drop us off at the St. Peter and Paul church which we were surprised to find completely empty. From there we walked towards the main road passing by market stalls that would be full and busy the following day. There was an older woman preparing coconuts and we partook in some coconut juice.
The beach buffered against the Gulf of Guinea wasn't far and as we ventured towards it we took in the architectural remnants of Togo's colonial past. Several buildings stood slowly decaying with time providing a glimpse into the tough past. Back on the main road through Aneho we crossed over a bridge hovering over a lagoon spilling out into the ocean. Around the bend we located a lovely oasis called L'Oasis (perfect) and ate lunch and got out of the sun for a bit.
Our only 'must do' for the day besides explore was to find an EcoBank ATM to pay our hotel fee the next day (cash only). We were told it would most likely be closed but decided to pass by it since it was on our way to the voodoo village. Along the road we found another church with a school and a cemetery in the back. Not much more to see so we continued down the main road. The EcoBank was in our sights and we decided to give it a try. Not sure what folks were talking about because it was open for business and our only task completed.
It was time to see some voodoo so we went back to L'Oasis and flagged down two taxis. Two motorbikes rolled up and we hopped on telling them to take us to Glidji. Now taxis in Togo are motorbikes, sure there are some cars which we took from Lome to the hotel but the majority of people get around via motorbike. And it is so fun - I can see why!
We sped along the small streets and pulled up to an archway which appeared to lead to the voodoo temple we were seeking. All of a sudden some local guys came running saying that we had to pay a visit to the chief before we could enter the voodoo shrine. We heard about paying respects to the chief from our guidebook but thought it optional - it wasn't.
Expecting to meet some great warrior dressed in impressive Togolese chief-like garb we were a bit disappointed. The chief was sitting on a white lawnchair under a tree dressed in khakis and a t-shirt. Not quite the image we had anticipated. He had a few cronies next to him who spoke on the chief's behalf. Brian graciously attempted to communicate in French but was quickly stopped by one of the groupies and asked to speak in English while one of our motorbike drivers would translate. It was then decided that our motorbike driver would translate throughout the Glidji tour (obviously having no choice as this was an order from the chief).
Before embarking on our journey to all things voodoo we had to pay a small token for our appreciation to the chief and his village of 5000 CFA (~$10). Then we were taken to a pavilion that was marked with an entrance archway that had a large eye blazoned on the top. I thought of Lord of the Rings at that moment (probably not appropriate).
We went inside the arena and sat down on a bench. From the right corner of the pavilion a man came forth only wearing a sarong and lots of muscles. Someone you wouldn't want to mess with. He greeted us and asked if we wanted to see the voodoo shrine. We said yes so he asked us to take off our shoes. We took off our shoes. Then he said now take off your shirts. Ummmmm..... I looked at Brian and all of the other men standing around us and said, "I'm just going to sit this one out but Brian you go ahead." Brian already had his shirt off at this point, ready to see the power lurking behind the pavilion's doors. The jacked gentleman said he could give me a wrap to wear but it was unclear if that was to cover me or to wear around my waist. I decided not to chance it and let the male part of Team Feth go forward with the camera.
So there they went, the gang of shirtless men towards the temple. They stopped just in front and the muscle-bound man talked for a few minutes. Brian took some photos, one guy pointed at something and then they turned around and came back. What?! Huh?!
Brian was just as confused. He said later that they explained that the power lived behind the walls they were looking at and that every September they have a huge festival celebrating the voodoo fetish. And that was it. Good thing I kept my shirt on!
There wasn't more to the village than the temple but we did want to scoot around a bit more on the motorbikes so our taxis drove us around the countryside. What a beautiful green lush place. We saw a man casting his net out into a waterway just next to a bridge we were standing on.
We decided to take our taxis all the way back to our hotel in Agbodrafo. It was about a 25 minute drive but we had made such good friends and the motorbikes were so sweet we couldn't resist. As we drove along the main road in Togo we were flagged down at a tollbooth to pull off to the side by one of the guards. A police officer, who appeared to be under the influence of something that causes one's eyes to glaze over - you be the judge of which substance, asked us for our passports. He flipped through them hastily and then asked us for our vaccination cards. Luckily we had them with our passports and then he asked his buddy to come over to assist. His buddy didn't give him much help knowing the officer had nothing on us. The officer persisted by asking us how long our vaccinations were good for, "10 years sir" we replied. The other officer shrugged us off and then finally we were told to go.
As we paid our motorbike drivers their fare the one who had been our interpretaor at the village asked us if we had anything to give them to remember us by. I looked through my backpack and all I had was a keychain flashlight and a leather bookmark from Kenya. We passed them over saying this was all we had and the keychain flashlight was happily taken. Not so sure if the bookmark will get much use but he took it anyway.
That evening we celebrated our wonderful day in Togo with some beers at sunset. The sun cast magnificent silhouettes of people in taxi boats going to and from Togoville. Later that night we enjoyed a lovely dinner at the hotel restaurant. As we were ordering our food Brian asked the waitress about the special of the day. The waitress, said the name of the dish in french but Brian nor I recognized the name. So the waitress proceeded to act out how the animal looked. She put her hands above her head for the ears and then did a small hippity-hop and placed her hand low to the ground indicating it was a small creature. For some reason we didn't get it at the moment and guessed it to be lamb. Brian decided he'd give it a try. She brought us our meals and as we were enjoying them Brian mentioned that his meat consisted of very tiny bones and it couldn't be lamb. It was rabbit! Oh of course, the long ears and the hippity-hop! When our waitress came by to take our plates we made the long ear signal and the hop with our hands and she just laughed! The universal hand gestures one uses when we can't communicate verbally.
Monday morning came and we wanted to do one last thing before heading back to Accra. We were surprised to find a lack of opportunities to purchase souvenirs as we drove around on motorbikes yesterday so we wanted to head back to Togoville's souvenir shop. We boated over around 9am and purchased our fill of voodoo dolls and awesome masks and then were on our way to the Togo/Ghana border.
We made it back in to Ghana no problem and arrived to the Aflao bus station with an hour to spare. The bus ride home took quite a bit longer as the bus had some mechanical problems and stopped over 4 times. At one point the bus driver asked if somebody had a knife. We waited out the stops and finally made it to Accra around 6pm. Glad to be home we showered, ate a home-cooked meal and went to bed.
Our trip to Togo was lovely. The people were very friendly and did not hassle us in any way which was a pleasant reprieve from Ghana. The countryside was beautiful and way of life simple. Togo - do go!
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