If it had been for me, I would not have spent more than a day in Accra after returning from paradise because the capital of Ghana, like all the capitals of the sub-Saharan African countries I know, has no particular appeal. There are two reasons why one would seek to remain in an African capital: logistics (visas, flights, catering, etc.) and / or rest (recover physically, eat better and more variety, etc.). In the particular case of Accra, I had to use my stay to obtain the Ivory Coast and Mali visas. Fortunately, the stay was much more enjoyable thanks to the enormous generosity of my Portuguese friend Rita, director of Brussels Airlines in the country, who invited me to stay in her apartment for as long as I needed.

African visas

The stupidity that involves the process of issuing visas is shared by many countries in the world, from the richest to the poorest, the variety of absurd requirements invented to obtain them, never ceases to amaze me. What amazes me even more is the great ease with which these requirements can be overcome and on this subject I could write a book in itself. The visas of Mali and Ivory Coast are no exception.

Why does Mali require a personal invitation letter from someone in Mali to grant me a visa? And why does Ivory Coast require me to book a hotel night on the day of my arrival? These are questions that go beyond the extent of my own imagination. I clearly do not know anyone in Mali, nor do I plan to stay in a hotel that without a doubt does not exist in the villages of huts where I spend my nights. Let alone getting a reservation for such non-existent hotels. However, there is no way I will stop visiting a country that I want to visit for such ridiculous reasons. The good thing is that for the stupid requirements of such disorganized countries, solutions are almost always very easy.

In the case of Mali, the solution was to invent an invitation letter issued by Father Emilio, a Salesian priest based on the Bamako Mission, about whom I learned through other travelers. A warm personal invitation to visit the Mission, signed by “Father Emilio” and written in good French on an A4 sheet was all that was necessary. On the other hand, in the case of Côte d'Ivoire, the screenshot of a reservation for any hotel in Abidjan, not submitted of course, was more than enough.

Do you really believe that the Mali ambassador or consul in Accra is going to take the time it takes to verify the veracity of the letter of one Emilio Father whom he has no idea about? Do you think the Ivorian consul is going to call a little hotel in Abidjan to confirm Nicolás Marino's reservation? The answer should be clearly "NO" for both, and if at any time you fear that it is a "YES", rest assured that there are no serious consequences for all those who use intelligence and audacity to combat requirements that make no sense.

This is how I obtained the two visas for the next two countries without any problem within three days. Meanwhile I delighted in Rita's house, swimming in the building's pool, eating giant mangoes and avocado baguettes and sleeping in the cleanest and most comfortable bed in a long, long time.

Feeling like dying

The route along the Atlantic coast from Accra to the border with Côte D'Ivoire is one of the busiest in the country, and with the exception of some very nice areas of beaches lined with coconut trees, the whole road is quite boring and full of traffic. The attitude of the southern Ghanaian is also similar to that of the people of southern Benin. I perceive them mostly as more serious and bitter people, and without the cheerful and relaxed smiles of the people of the center and the north. That is why I tend to move quite fast every day.

Interestingly, one of the most cheerful and friendly people I know during those days is the owner of a coffin manufacturing business on the roadside, who designs and builds custom coffins according to the wishes of the dead or his/her family. While I walk around his shop, I need a few moments to adjust my mind between amazement and laughter and to preserve my serenity. The young carpenter shows me with enthusiasm his latest creations: a coffin in the form of a mobile phone, another in the form of a ship, another in the form of a bundle of 50 cedis bills and some more that exceed the limits of my imagination. He explains that in Ghana, being buried in a coffin that represents the deceased is very important for people. Along the way I see one after another coffin business, each one displaying their magnificent designs, sometimes of animals and sometimes other objects. I suppose that this is a way for them to feel more like dying and find death more encouraging.

Already near reaching the border, in a small city I stop to kill boredom in one of the funniest street businesses that I find so far. Hanging from the back of an old Land Rover Defender, a sign shows the disproportionate drawing of a man with a huge erect penis that reads: "Man Power". From the sides of the truck hang other posters indicating different diseases in the intestinal and genital area. In the back, talking concentrated on the phone under an umbrella, is the merchant who sells potions that are in jars of all sizes inside his truck. A true collection of elixirs to cure all our ills. I try to talk to him but he is really very busy. However, I'm not leaving without first asking him while pointing at "Man Power" - does it work? - He answers me with a resounding - "Of course." - I get on my bike letting out a benevolent laugh and continue my way to the border, now I have no interest to try it.

So long Ghana

Happy to leave Ghana I arrive at the Ivorian border. Ghana will be among those countries that fall into a gray spot between my preferences. I can not say that it is a country where I had a bad time, in fact in the north I have lived some very beautiful moments. The best quality of food available, especially the magnificent jaffa, was the most pleasant highlight in the country. However, I cannot say that I had a great time and certainly, the only unforgettable moment was the horrible New Year I spent in Kumasi together with the American Peace Corps. On the other hand, the country has very little visual appeal, and in many regions, people are quite apathetic or less warm, especially when compared to the surrounding countries where I come from. Even so, considering my experience as a whole, I have a positive, if lukewarm, memory of Ghana , a country where I don't think life will bring me back again.