With only a 45 minute flight separating Lagos and Accra, you'd think I'd
have been to Ghana at least once in my 22-year existence.
Unfortunately until July 2013, the concepts holiday and Africa have
never gone together in my head.
Holiday was Italy and structurally unsound towers; or America and
discount shopping or France and baguettes. Not Ghana,
longstanding "frenemy "of Nigeria, with the football team we all rooted
for in the last World Cup. Yet, that's no reason to actually
visit the place.
I went for a family wedding. If not for love, perhaps another
22 years would have passed before I made it to Accra. The
first thing that struck me almost as soon as I stepped off the plane was
the manner of the people.
Now I know it is hackneyed and passé and terribly clichéd to praise the
hospitality of the locals and so I make the next statement knowing that I
tread on imperial ground: Ghanaians are nice.
The friendly coconut seller in the photo above is just one of the myriad
of fresh produce vendors that are dotted around the city.
You spy a coconut, you pick a coconut, he splits the coconut and you
drink the water out of it, right there and then on the roadside.
No preservatives, no plastic bottles, just coconut.
I've often wondered why the global indexes drawn up only rank things
like "Ease of Doing Business" or "Democracy," with criteria that leave
African countries nearer the bottom than top. If only someone
would draw up a ranking for Fresh Produce Consumption.
This love of fresh food was on one occasion, however, taken to a rather
bizarre extreme. My hotel restaurant didn't have half the
dinner menu because the necessary ingredients were always bought fresh
from the market and the market was closed!
Speaking of hotels, due to exceptionally bad planning, I found myself
staying in three hotels over eight nights. The last, The
University of Legon Guesthouse, was the best value for money.
For $60 a night, I got an air-conditioned ensuite double room,
beautifully landscaped grounds, the fastest internet I have used in West
Africa and reasonably priced meals in the restaurant.
Now, as an original Lagosian, I haven't been to a place unless I've gone
shopping in a place. I hit Oxford Street, Osu, on my second
day in town. It's a roadside market that caters to the
cravings of an ankara lover like myself, or 'African print' to those not
quite in the know.

However, for more upmarket shoppers who want their air-conditioning and
shopping trolleys, there's the Accra City Mall in East Legon where
Ghanaian designers sell their work alongside international brands.
In my humble opinion, local content was winning but I'm a little
biased.
There are of course conventional touristy things to do in Accra.
For the reasonable sum of six cedis, you can enjoy The Kwame Nkrumah
Memorial Park, final resting place of the first President of Ghana.

It's a serene venue for contemplation. The museum on
site sheds some light on the man behind the leader that was a pivotal
part of the independence movement in Africa. Yet I also like to see the places not fashionable enough for the beaten
track, places that probably wouldn't make it into glossy tourist
brochure.Ghana, beautiful as it is, is still a developing country.There are shopping malls and skyscrapers,one born every minute but
there is also Nima, where I met a lady who chops firewood every evening
to cook her meals.I had open access to Nima thanks to the organization's invisible borders
and their partnerships in the area. Perhaps not all the
Millennium Development Goals have been met in Nima but there were other
signs of development that international agencies don't often look for.
I had my first private art viewing in Musa's studio in Nima.
Only a stone's throw away from that was a photography
exhibition in Nima roundabout. It wasn't all sightseeing and games though. I also went to
Accra for the very serious business of book promoting. I've
never been on radio in West Africa. It's no different from
being on radio in England except the presenters on Joy and Citi FM
understood my accent.I left Accra determined to go on holiday in more African countries. Forget Paris, Milan and Prague.Maputo "HERE I COME" she says.