LOME, TOGO
I reluctantly leave the monastery on Saturday because its market day and this means there will be plenty of transport as the Monastery and nearby village, Dzogbegan are very isolated. I wait at the main road and within 5 minutes I’m collected by a young moto rider. I am reluctant to let this transport pass and he assures me he’ll ride carefully. Not too far out of the first village a taxi overtakes us, calling ‘Kpalime’ – and I signal to the affirmative. The taxi stops, there is one space free (or is that ½ a seat?), my pack gets transferred to the boot and I’m driven direct to Kpalime. The lorry station has plenty of transport direct to Lome, and while it fills I get my breakfast – the requisite omelette in a crusty baguette. But here in Togo, it also includes an extra accompaniment of mashed avocado which are in season and in great abundance here. Mmmmm I also give Terry a quick phone call to wish him a Happy Birthday today!
3 hours later, we arrive in Lome, at a petrol station and then it’s back on a moto down to the burbs to stay at Le Galion in Kodjoviakope which had a very handy location, great restaurant and free wi-fi. I miss the National Commissioner of Girl Guides Togo, Justine Lacle as I’ve headed out to see the Musee International du Golfe de Guinea – an amazing private collection opened to the public (at a small charge) in the name of philanthropy! And what a collection it is, much of it dated prior to colonisation – even the Ashanti bronzes look fab, and they were something I didn’t really like in Kumasi, Ghana. I also call in at a private art gallery to talk to the owner about her experiences in Nigeria – she says “don’t go, you will die there!” Hmm not very encouraging but her experiences are limited to business with artists and perhaps if I can raise an answer from the Nigerian Girl Guides I can stay with them and hopefully be safe in Lagos. On my return to Le Galion I telephone Justine who returns to invite me join with them tomorrow as they celebrate their Centenary. I am very happy to join them and Sunday morning passes in a whirl. Both Guide units are meeting in church grounds. The first units are setting up for a ‘fete’ and after a slow beginning it becomes very popular and tickets to the various activities quickly sell out. For a very small charge you can try a lucky envelope or your skill at various small games – one such game was lighting seven candles from one match. Not easy as it’s all outside but most were up to the challenge and determined to win that lollipop. Another activity station, helped out by the Scouts was a tyre partly buried that become a mini goal for aspiring soccer players – this one was very popular with serious young men although very difficult. Soon enough the crowds headed home, photos taken and someone turned up with icy cold bissap juice for us. Mmmm We then take a taxi back nearer town to visit the Casablanca Guides who are blessed by the priest with much drumming, singing and clapping. Then we all take turns joining in and although everyone is very entertained whenever I do join in I can’t help but feel terribly gauche compared to these wonderful, talented and gorgeous young women. A lot of laughter, clapping and singing, more photos then back into a taxi with Justine (Chief Commissioner) and Yvette (deputy Chief Commissioner) for lunch at the Belle de Lome. We make arrangements to meet again when Justine is meeting with her National Team on Wednesday night making my stay in Lome 5 nights – a tad too long but what the heck. This decision came back to haunt me when I finally looked at my visa dates asI realised it was cutting mighty fine to get to Nigeria..
FACT: I have taken notice that whenever I think that something may be difficult to do, it turns out to be easy for whatever reason, be it people’s kindness, the planets aligning or just plain good luck. An example is getting back to Kpalime from the Monastery which was going to be potentially difficult due to its isolation and lack of transport but turned out so easy. On other days when I try to accomplish something that sounds easy, like visiting a gallery or museum it turns into a grand saga. For example, in Lome when I engaged a moto rider to take me to the Musee International de Golfe de Guinee for an agreed price he got lost, stopped for directions 3 times and then wanted to double our agreed price BECAUSE he got lost making the travel a long way so it all turns pear shaped with arguments at the gallery door. I maintained that if you don’t know what I am talking about or don’t know where I want to go, then don’t take the fare! Gallery staff intervene, agree with me and thus there is more arguing, all over a paltry 100cfa! In the end I pay him but this makes a 2nd altercation with transport blokes on my first day in Lome after a taxi who agreed he was a taxi partage suddenly becomes a drop taxi just because it’s the weekend. NOT Or another day when I ‘tried’ to visit the Musee National, hidden behind their Palais des Congress, two security guards ‘guarding’ together understood where I wanted to go and both pointed in opposite directions to direct me. Then when I had literally circled the huge building, I found the museum unattended but with doors open. OK this is Africa so I go in and will get the ticket later. 15 minutes later, NO that is not what an enraged bloke shaking a book of tickets at me thinks. He is mighty annoyed that I had dared enter HIS museum without buying a ticket. As I head back to the desk to pay, I ask where he was when I arrived to which he gets even madder. OK I then matched his attitude and asked who he was because he is dressed only in a singlet and trousers, no uniform or ID – perhaps he has been asleep? Again the yelling and ticket book waving so I tell him I’m finished and try to leave. This escalates our disagreement because now he is not going to get any money. So I have this rather large, angry, african man blocking my way out of the museum demanding I buy a ticket with me yelling back in terrible french. By now we’ve attracted some attention, but not from his minions who are hiding around the corner outside (who by the way, pointed me in, in the first place). But at least a security guard discourages this bloke from continuing – he maintains I am mad, I maintain he is a dickhead and we part ways yelling at each other!! Bye the bye from what I saw it was a very poorly maintained museum with any information all in french! BAH!
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