- God of Consuming Fire Cosmetics
- Jesus Loves Fashion
- Lord, my Saviour Tyre check
- God's Choice Catering
- Alleluiah Phone Accessories
Many of these were spotted this past weekend as we took a tro-tro out of Accra and headed to Kokrobite, a small beach town full of the sort of wooden shack shops that God has personally endorsed. Getting to Kokorobite was fine, although we rode in a very battered tro-tro and arrived when it was very dark (it gets so soon after 6pm). Jumping out the van and visually screaming tourists we felt a little uneasy, but fortunately a very nice local man walked us to our hotel down pitch-black dirt tracks towards the beach. We stayed at the Kokrobite Garden Restaurant, an Italian restaurant (!) with adjoining wooden huts for guests to stay in. It was very beautiful. We decided to have some food at the hotel and I managed to nibble a bit of pizza (the food poisoning was still vaguely lingering...and I should probably have been at home in bed, not going to an all-night reggae party).
The reggae party was held at Big Millie's Backyard, a campsite and guest that backed onto the beach. It was pretty busy (although apparently in other weekends it is really rammed) and on the stage a series of reggae bands took their turn - crooning through a catalogue that ranged from Bob Marley to Peter Andre via some (clearly very popular) Ghanaian classics. There was undoubtedly something very awesome about dancing around on a beach, under the palm trees, singing along to 'Kingston Town.' I wasn't drinking (food poisoning has rather put me off...) and instead knocked back a Ghanaian Red Bull called 'Burn' which kept me dancing for several hours with both our gang and my new Rasta friend Bubbo!
After the reggae party was over, around 2am, lots of us migrated to the beach where Luis, a guy we all know from Accra, was doing a drumming performance with about 6 or 7 other guys and complete of dancers. They lit a bonfire and we all lay on the sand watching. Another amazing moment - listening to the ocean compete with the djembe beat whilst watching two boys somersault around us. A few of the group danced and some us ended up trying to drum (spectacularly badly). It all ended around 4am and - after an unfortunate altercation with a girl, high on something pretty special, who'd taken it upon herself to take money for the public loo (and used the very tiresome line of "...will you not pay me because I am African, because my skin is black?") - we headed back to our cabins. Digging out the drum that was in our room we tried to reenact the party whilst eating cold pizza...like being back at uni all over again!
Everyone slept in on Sunday, despite the overwhelming noise of wildlife and ocean in very close proximity. When we rose there was one thing on our minds...french toast and coffee! We'd spotted it on the menu the night before and, having not had coffee in over a week (Ghanaians do not drink coffee), there was pretty much nothing that could stop me getting some caffeine. After breakfast - and a party-debrief - half the group headed to the beautiful Bojo beach to chill whilst the rest of us headed back to Accra, keen to shower and rest up (the water wasn't running at our guest house - a common occurrence here).
Sunday evening was spent at Nubuke Foundation where I'd been led to believe there was a poetry performance event. Of course we arrived too early - everything starts at least an hour after the advertised time - and when it did get going, it quickly dawned on me that this was not a night for spectators, it was an open mic! I felt a few of my friends squirming slightly, but fortunately a few of the regulars to the event got up to read and the inimitable Mr. Black got the 'TalkParty' going with an amazing performance. In the final 15 minutes of the show a whole host of local uni students (and poets) arrived and proceeded to get very drunk on the (trust me, lethal) palm wine on offer. All in all, a hilarious end to another amazing weekend.
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