07: Togo

Friday 29 December

Accra — Sogakofe — Aflao — TOGO — Lome [165 miles]

Our journey through Togo.

We cross the border from Ghana into Togo on 29 December, heading straight for the campsite at Robinson Plage, Lome, where we are to spend a few days over the New Year period relaxing. The poste restante at Lome is also going to offer our first opportunity to collect mail from home.

It will also give us a chance to get away from each other for a while, and to meet and talk to other travellers. I wonder if any of them have had the problems we have had. Probably different ones that seem as bad.

Saturday 30 December

Lome (Robinson Plage)

Togo: Our campsite on Robinson Plage, near Lome.

The site is virtually on the beach, a little way out from the centre of Lome. A wrecked ship lies a hundred yards off the shore. A gentle breeze blows off the sea, cooling the shaded bar. Lizards bob and skitter around the clientele. Golden skinks slip into the bushes as we walk to and from the beach.

Unfortunately this otherwise idyllic camp incorporates a small zoo. A young lion paces back and forth. One of two monkeys rocks from side to side, unseeing. The other periodically hurls itself at the wire netting in a rage at anything which passes. Two crocodiles are curled in a concrete pool containing a few inches of stagnant water. Three puff adders ignore mice huddled in the corner of their glass case.

Extract from letter:

Last night in camp just outside Lome I spent the night writing out my reasons for leaving the project (for anything, I’d heard that  A was claiming that I was leaving because I’d been ‘corrupted’ in some way by Lesley and Brigid!).

Over the next few days the tensions eased. Jason and Richard continued their support. the site at Lome was quite pleasant. I spent most of the time alone in the beach bar or talking to Lesley, Brigid, Richard or Jason.

On the morning of New Years Eve I said to A I was prepared to stay under the conditions I’d outlined in my breakfast talk, knowing that Lesley had already had a similar conversation and said an undertaking abut personal attacks and isolation from Mobil. That night we all sang ‘Auld Lang Sine’ — except for S who’d disappeared as usual.

Since then things have gone reasonably smoothly.

I think the decision to continue was the right one. Despite that fact that we would be together again now, I think I would have regretted not seeing it through. I think this experience is changing me in some ways, for the better I hope.

After the peace of Lome we continued into Benin. (I nearly forgot, Lesley and Brigid took me out for a meal to an African restaurant in Lome to say thanks for my support. I had chicken in peanut sauce, which brought memories. It wasn’t as nice as yours though!).

Sunday 31 December

Lome

On New Year’s Eve a pistol fired from a ship just off-shore announces midnight. We link arms with Australians, Dutch, Germans and New Zealanders and sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ beneath the dark palms and a tropical sky, the roar of breakers in the background.

The day before we’re scheduled to leave we take a trip into Lome itself. The market is supposed to be one of the best in Africa. On offer are colourful fabrics, canework, leather sandals, masks and carvings, and black market currency. Famous throughout West Africa are the women traders, known as ‘Nana Benz’ because most of them seem to drive Mercedes cars.

In the old quarter is the fetish market, stocked with traditional medicines and sorcerers’ supplies — skulls of small animals and birds, animal skins and teeth, and bones of all shapes and sizes. Somewhat incongruously one stall has on offer a tatty booklet of simple magic tricks published in India in the 1930’s.

Monday January 1 1990

Lome

Extract from letter:

We’re in Robinson Plage, Togo, and it’s about 10.30 on the morning of New Years Day. I’m sitting in the bar overlooking the beach. There’s the resting hulk of a wrecked ship a hundred yards away and a lovely breeze off the sea that blows the salt spray on my face from time to time. Next to me, on my right is a middle-aged American wearing a stetson and reading ‘West With the Night’. A few chairs down on my left Jo is being chatted up by yet another overlander. Further along still, Jason is writing a letter to his mum.

At the moment everyone seems relaxed and happy (I’m looking forward to picking your letter up from the poste restante in Lome — it’s been closed so far). I’m certainly feeling much better than I have done for some days now. Let’s hope it lasts. This trip is turning out to be much tougher than expected — not because of the physical conditions (although they can be pretty gruelling at times) but because of the internal conflicts and stresses between members of the group. But let’s get back to the narrative …

There’s lots more to tell you (like how I was nearly home for the New Year) but I’ll have to finish. It’s Tuesday and we’re just about to go into Lome to the poste restante (it’s been closed so far). Looking forward so much to getting your letter (assuming it’s arrived). So I’ll post this one at the same time.

Picked up your letter and Christmas card, plus cards from Anna, Mum and Dad, June and Paul, a few days ago from the poste restante in Lome.