MOLE National Park, Ghana
After passing very hot night in Bolga, I make my Bolga basket purchases from a storeroom that is an Aladdin’s cave of baskets. They are all gorgeous and colourful and I want them all cause I LOVE baskets! Alas I hone my choices down to six baskets that manage to pack inside one another & I head back to await my ‘magic carpet ride’ to Tamale. James agrees that I can leave my big bag of baskets & shea butter at the WV office here in Tamale and then together we negotiate the Metro Mass Transit station for a bus to Mole National Park cause I want to see elephants. Its 1pm, the scheduled bus departs at 2.30pm. It is complete chaos there, with no signage and there are a Spanish couple who have been waiting since 11am for the bus to Mole – they tell me the bus is full, we should have purchased tickets at 6am the day we want to travel... BUT if you are willing to stand they will sell tickets until the bus is full, when it is ready to depart. So we wait, and we wait and we wait. They are trying to get to Larabunga to photograph the ancient mosque there. There is only 1 bus a day to Mole and no sign of it so we amuse ourselves as best you can in an African bus station. We ask, ask, and ask anyone who remotely looks involved with Metro Mass Transit about tickets & the bus departure time. We are continually told that “it is coming”. Then one man asks if we have tickets – “no”, do you want tickets? “yes” and he opens the office door to purchase 3 seat tickets from a conductress, who magically produces them from her handbag for us at the cost price. So now we have tickets but no bus is coming any time soon. We chat to each other & other ‘prospective’ passengers, we eat and we try ingratiating ourselves with the conductress. But alas there is no pleasing this unhappy woman and Paula is soon fed up with her. The conductress accuses us, the obrunis, of asking too many questions. Then proceeds to ask us if we are married, how old we are etc etc. We object to her questions on the grounds that we only want to know when the bus is coming, not HER life story. And as much as we want to ‘grease’ the wheel, she is most unlikeable a rare phenomenon in my West African travels. By 5pm the Spanish couple has had enough – there will be no light by the time we’ll arrive in Larabunga for photography, so they demand their money back for the tickets. I stick it out as I only want to see elephants, and that won’t be until the morning anyway. By 7pm I have befriended every sweet, water, ice-cream & snack vendor at this pitiful bus station and am still continually reassured by others waiting that “the bus will come”. I tell them that Christmas is coming too, but it’s a long way off... One bloke tells me that if I have a ticket, then the bus WILL definitely come! HUH, blind faith!! The buses come, fill up and leave again but alas no Mole bus. Soon the station offices empty of staff and I tell the kids that I’m ready to camp in the office because it has lights and a fan. They are a little worried for my safety and give me lots of hints about sleeping there, to lock the door, who to look out for etc. Eventually the bus turns up 6 hours late and the nasty conductress is triumphant in her assertions that “the bus will come”. But in chatting with the other prospective passengers, they are worried – this bus has come from elsewhere, the driver will be tired, the road is very bad and now we will be travelling in the dark. So just for fun I ask the conductress “will this be dangerous?” Now the normal reaction by most folk would be to reassure the nervous obruni, especially if there is nothing to worry about, but not this woman - she launches into a tirade about how if I am unhappy then I should take my money back, etc etc. I try reasoning with her and involve the other passengers... She is NOT happy with me – could she be racist I ask her?? She flounces off and starts collecting money from everyone for their luggage. Now this issue of paying extra for luggage is very grating – especially when it’s a full size bus, there is plenty of room under the bus for luggage and it is really just a way for a conductress to supplement her income. So again we have words when she comes back to me, demanding payment for my pack to be stowed. I flip – enough is enough. I ask for my money back and proceed to lecture the waiting passengers that they are PAYING for a SERVICE, that is they put up with being treated like shit, then they will continue to be treated like shit by arrogant, power mad conductresses and careless bus companies and I will no longer tolerate it, I will find elephants elsewhere. I collect my pack and start thinking about where I wills stay tonight in Tamale when I am joined by a young man, who has decided that he does not wish to travel on this bus either and will guide me to a cheap hostel in town as he needs a place to stay too and as it’s dark it’s now dangerous to walk about nearby. As we talk, a Metro Mass Transit bloke appears (where has he been hiding?) to ask me about why I won’t go on the bus. I list my litany of complaints and he refutes them one by one – the bus ride will not be dangerous, it’s only 3 hours, the driver is safe etc. Then we get to the conductress from hell and he tells me to ignore her that please will I travel on the bus and everything will be ok... He is actually being very pleasant and I gather there has been a mass complaint from the other passengers about the way I have been treated and he’s here to calm the waters. OK I relent, and as he is behind me telling me to enter the bus, the driver is at the top of the steps telling me to enter the bus with the CFH is standing at the door blocking my way because I don’t have a ticket! What a joke – the 2 blokes argue with her and she eventually gives way but you could curdle milk with her pout! I get the very front seat, across from new friend (NOT) the conductress. No one has asked for any money yet and I have saved on the luggage surcharge because my pack is bought in to the front of the bus. Soon enough we are pulling out from Tamale and wow check out those flashes of lighting in the sky, which proceed to get bigger followed by thunder and the road is crap and the driver is really driving so, so fast. Eventually the passengers (have they been emboldened by their previous success at protesting?) start yelling at the driver to slow down & drive more carefully (nothing like a little yelling at each other in Africa, I say!). From a good 70kph, we slow to around 40kph & soon enough “I hear the rains down in Africa”! So now it’s pitch dark, the road is crap and there’s thunder, lightning and it’s pouring with rain. Just another ride from hell really, especially as we are going so slow and it will take us HOURS to get to Mole NP. Then we stop for a meal break (what else) and a young man approaches me to tell me that I am going to a place with wild animals (I had rather hoped so), that it is dangerous arriving there so late and I should stay at Larabunga where he is going. I talk to him for bit, ask a few questions and generally ignore him. He heads back to his seat to be immediately quizzed by other passengers who have been listening, about his motives in advising me not to stay at Mole NP. They go to town on him and really give him 10 rounds of the table as he tries to defend himself but to no avail. As more of the passengers come back on board and hear what has transpired they also join in the abuse and haranguing. By this time I’m not daring to look around from my front seat but I’m somewhat mystified & amused by this demonstration of care & attention by the passengers. But what is making it worse is I know I can say good bye to seeing elephants at the park because with the rain, the elephants will travel out to more remote waterholes that are filling up, rather than come into the lodge’s waterholes where it’s so convenient for the tourists to spot them! OMG we arrive at 11pm with only the driver, ‘CFH’ and me are left onboard. I get the last bed in the female dorm and sleep almost immediately. I vaguely hear the majority of my roommates rustling about at 3am as the attempt to catch the Metro Mass Transit bus back to Tamale
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| I see elephants |
– yes it departs at 4am/5am everyday….. Up early in the vain hope of spotting an elephant - I meet my now sole room mate who is one of 3 Russians – they are photographers who have joined their friend, a bible translator, to travel about Ghana (in his big 4wd). I have to rely on the park guides who carry guns and join 3 Serbian women on holiday – we swap Ghanaian women horror stories and get driven around for 2 hours spotting only deer, antelope and more deer. We go to a waterhole, where 1 lonely crocodile slides back into the water on our arrival. And that’s it! Stinking hot, I head back to figure a way out of Mole being none too keen to catch the 4am bus back to Tamale tomorrow morning. I look in vain for the Russians, knowing they have to head back to Tamale to go anywhere else but they’ve headed into the park with their armed guide. I ask at the office about the private minibus and get directed to a closed office/room that I’d already checked – their cars are broken apparently. Then a bloke sitting about offers me a lift back to Tamale, if I am happy to sit in the bucket. Now I’m happy just to get out of Mole today because there is absolutely NOHTING to do here other than pay huge sums of money for drivers and armed guides to take you around or sit watching the nearby waterholes in case an elephant should wander past. I make the grand assumption that the bucket is not the roof and we agree to a reasonable price. He tells me it will leave around 1 hour and to bring my luggage there. I figure I’ve got enough time to have a cup of tea before braving the road again, and when I return at 11am, apparently they’ve gone and I should have bought my luggage straight away. I debate the pros and cons of believing everything I get told about departure times here in Ghana, take photos of elephant bones and join in deep & meaningful discussions just to pass the time. One bloke has a car – he can drive me to a town past Larabunga where there is regular transport WOO HOO. By midday I’m leaving Mole NP after hearing of one group’s elephant sighting nearby. :-(
FACT: The Serbs’ opinion on why some Ghanaian women are so aggressive & nasty to western women is that they are jealous. Then when we talk about accents one of women makes me laugh when she says “you know I can speak english ok, but I cannot understand a word that comes out of their mouths here”!
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