A Travellerspoint blog

how to make rasta 'red red'

ala zion's kitchen

semi-overcast 26 °C

boil a cup of pinto beans.

for sauce:

chop up a few small eggplants (we used little white ones with their skins), 1 small onion, 2 green papayas, and some cherry tomatoes. throw in one half of a ripe, red plantain to make it 'creamy creamy.'

saute onion and tomatoes in half cup palm nut oil.

boil eggplant, papaya and plantain in cup sterilized water until soft.

combine ingredients and add beans, let simmer.

add salt, curry powder, black pepper and more palm nut oil.

for plantains:

fry in palm nut oil and drain. toss with salt and curry powder.


boil plantains.

serve with remaining beans, sauce, plantains and special lemongrass tea. all together makes great stomach medicine.

Posted by battle-axe 05:30 Archived in Ghana Tagged food Comments (1)


See photo gallery for a glimpse into our adventures and the sights of Ghana!

Posted by Dunz 05:04 Comments (0)

Crazy Travels

Getting from Kokrobite to Butre

sunny 25 °C
View West Africa on Dunz's travel map.

We had had 1 great night and day of beaching, swimming, rasta'ing, drinking and recovering from our 24 hour fligh plan across Africa and back again. But Casimir had told us that lots of PCVs were gathering at "The Hideout," an aptly named little beach getaway place. Lonely Planet had no mention of the place or the town, so we knew it had to be good.
So we hopped on a taxi, lept into a tro-tro, switched to another and yet another tro. Soon we were dirty, slightly hassled for our bags, hungry and hot. The tros moved slowly, pulling us from tiny village to tiny village as the ticket man made arm motions and the driver honked the horn, signalling to everyone without words that our vehicle was goig to Takradi.
Many hours and one embarassing pee incident later (Hey, brunei! Sachadoo!), we grabbed yet another tro to Agona, unti it was pictch black and were in a small Ghanaian village. "Butra? It's very far. The road is bad. I can take you for...8 cedis." A half hour of arguing later, we were in a crayz cab for 6 cedis. Bumpy diry roads led us through several villages until our driver said, "Ok, here you have to walk. Cross the bridge." The bridge?! Waves crashed underneath us as we walked over wooden planks, uneven, shaky, slanted. Can they hold the weight of us and our packs? What's that loud crashing below us--waves on waves, waves on rocks, waves on the bridg ahead of us? Only our headlamps lit our next steps.
After we crossed the bridge (which seemed unending but in daylight turned out to be small and quite safe, the crashing waves a significant distance away), we continued to walk, stumbling in the sand under our heavy pack. Small lights in the distance we hoped showed us the way to the Hideout, although the last sign had been quite some time before. What relief when those distant lights illuminated tables, chairs, PCVs and Ghanaians eating and drinking under straw umbrellas! We quickly pitched our tent in the dark and joined the crowd, sure that Casimir had intentionally set us on an obstacle course, and kind of test of our PCV status....And we felt like succeses.

Posted by Dunz 12:52 Archived in Ghana Tagged transportation Comments (0)

we made it!

(to kumasi, the biggest souq/market in west africa)

semi-overcast 25 °C


and ate this:


Posted by battle-axe 13:22 Archived in Ghana Comments (2)

three former peace corps ladies

get their feathers ruffled and blood boiling at the mauritanian border

sunny 35 °C

picking up scraps along the trail of giggles, cupcake and locks, like moroccan residency cards forgotten with hotel receptionists and the noble town of jemaa shaim known by every border guard, we were ultimately tested.

our immaculate planning ended up imploding alongside the hulls of forty years worth of automobiles, fatalities of the massive minefields that stretch between morocco and its ‘economically irrelevant’ desert neighbor.


we had visas. we had all the proper stamps and had conquered the art of charming moroccan and mauritanian officials. but when the lone mauritanian border official decided we had to return to rabat for newer visas before we could cross (a favorite pastime we were later informed), battle-axe threw an epic fit.

while d-dawg and flames returned to our desert transit and expertly interviewed a secret polisario agent (who’d been a regular passenger with us from the moroccan border until no man’s land where he’d suddenly revealed himself and begun shouting liberty and pro-independence maxims in spanish while slapping hands with our driver), i began reminding the visa officials at the mauritanian embassy in rabat just who we three ladies were.


they remembered us. they cowered. they called the mauritanian foreign minister. they contacted the army post at nouadhibou, who commanded the vindictive guard at the border crossing. they took a surprisingly short lunch break. they tackled the case of two young french cyclists in our same position (but less equipped except for one sparkly pinwheel sported on their handlebars).

a battle-forged german woman took to our cause with her dog and WWII era desert 4X4 and lambasted the border officials in her sharp native tongue until her personal multiple entry visa was Xed out by the guard in vengeful frustration. from ten in the morning until three in the afternoon we drank tea and fought (and found secret routes to the saharawi refugee camps in algeria and 6,000,000 dirhams in the polisario agent’s pockets for buying contraband mauritanian camels) until army officers nearly tripped on their turbans chasing us off the border.

we were finally granted new visa numbers over the phone and tasted sweet victory by refusing them and taking the first battered mercedes benz transport heading back to dakhla. dusk settled over a god-forsaken countryside (and the young french couple with their pinwheel, still hoping for reprieve) but we looked forward to the trip ahead: a painless flight from casablanca to ghana (via dubai) and a new no1ladies african adventure in reverse. the road back to casablanca would be long but we could do anything by now, with our eyes closed.


Posted by battle-axe 13:56 Archived in Western Sahara Tagged tips_and_tricks Comments (3)

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