We got up this morning and dived deep into the Ghana experience with no delay. First we needed to get some local currency as although the locals are happy to accept stirling we only had a few notes and you dont seem to get change so we ended up seriously overpaying for our taxi to Darkuman from the Airport. 20quid wasn't bad by English standards but if we had paid in Cedes it would only have cost us about a fiver.

We rolled out of the Hostel compound at about 9:00 and within about 20 seconds the Ghanian culture hit us. First there was the heat, then all the hundreds of people, some in colourfull costumes, going about their buisiness. There were Tro Tros, clapped out busses picking people up wherever they wanted, each one curb crawling for business with a guy hanging out of the window shouting at passers-by, and women walking everywhere with impossibly huge boxes and bowls on their heads. Many of them weaving between the traffic selling whatever it was they were selling. And the Taxis, we have never seen so many taxis and each one beeping at us in case we wanted a lift. We didn't at first as we wanted to get our bearings first so that we could find our way home again. Eventually we followed the good advice we had been given and selected a taxi that looked like it could get a mile or two with out breakng down and, first rule of taxis abroad, asked the price before we got in. The guy took us via a cash point, to Jamestown, a place we had read a little about in our guide book. Only 15 cedes this time and no sooner had we got out than a guy came up to us and introduced himself to us as "Nice One". He offered to show us around his town and I have to say we were a little hesitant at first but he told us that he would only accept what we wanted to pay after he had finished. This turned out to be a good decision as he then gave us a fantastic tour which we will remember for ever. Sorry guys but my money's running out on the computer and I haven't got any way of putting my pictures on here yet. I will be back soon with the rest of the adventure and the fantastic photos we took

M

Having been "adopted" by "Nice One" within seconds of alighting from our taxi, and accepteing his reassurances that he only wanted us to think good things of his neighbourhood and that he would look after us while we were in Jamestown, we were shown to the foot of the Jamestown lighthouse, a still functional remnant of the colonial days. Mandy doesn't do heights so she opted to wait at the bottom while Nice One showed me up to the top. His "sister" held the key and for 5 Cedes opened the door to allow us inside. I decided to show Nice One that I was a bit fitter than I looked and after being suitably impressed by the old clapped out generator at the bottom I raced Nice One to the top. Bad Move! Almost collapsing from my exertion we reached a room near the top where Nice One fed me a far fetched line that as the builder had run off with the money I would have to now climb onto a window sill 300 feet above Jamestown and clamber up over the three missing rungs on the ladder to the last stage. That nearly finished me off and I expressed gratitude that Mrs M. had remained at the bottom as no doubt she would have had something to say about that! Anyway all I can say is that it was all worthwhile. The view from the top was stunning. The remnants of old Imperial buildings rising here and there through the sea of cluttered corrugated iron roofs, battered and worn by the march of time and changing fortunes. Then along the beach a different type of clutter, covering several hectares, of shanty huts occupied by a multi national collection of fishermen and incoming people, earning their living from the sea, the occasional white tourist and collecting scrap metal and plastic and living in houses built out of pallets and tin sheets. Then along the sea shore, and moored in the water just off the beach, hundreds of fishing boats. I could also see Mandy waiting "patiently" at the bottom and having just about recovered from the altitude I suggested that it was probably time to go down again.

Nice One then took us to the Jamestown Fort which had been built in the 1600s and used for many years to hold slaves prior to shipping of to their final destinations. We saw tiny cells, Iron shackles on the floor and when Nice One told us that it had held up to 4,000 people at a time, we found it hard to believe. It was only closed as a prison in 2007 and was very delapidated. The sense of historical injustice hung heavy in the air and it was not a pleasant place to visit. We left with a similar feeling to that we experienced at Austwitcz a couple of years ago.

Nice One then asked us if we would like to eat, and when I asked how much it would cost he seemed genuinely insulted. "I have asked you to come and eat with my friends and I we do not charge each other for our hospitality!" he said as he led us into the fishing village shanty town, where goats, chickens and little children were wandering about all over the place. As we wandered through the maze of ramshackled streets lined with home made timber, tin and concrete shacks, so close together that it would be impossible to drive a vehicle through, people continually approached us and greeted us with high fives, Ghanian handshakes, (at which I am getting quite proficient now thanks to Colin Cass) and the clenched fist, knuckle to knuckle greeting also popular here. The air was full of charcoal smoke and the smell of cooking and marajuhana and we might have felt a little insecure but for the all pervading and genuine friendliness of all the people who greeted us. Nice One led us to a little bar where we were offered a very strong shot of local fire water which Mandy refused, (unusual , I know but we were in very unfamilliar teritory) and I offered a few cedes to buy beer for our hosts, and aftersoaking up the atmosphere and a beer in the bar where about ten people were dancing to very loud modern African music, we were led to the front of a little shed where we sat with three fishermen and the cutest little boy in the world, to eat some doughy porridge, made possibly from maize, a very spicy chilli sauceand stewed fish from a couple of cooking pots on the earth between us. Eaten the way the locals eat, using only the right hand (the left hand is used for ablutions so must not be used for eating) it was absolutely delicious. After some really fun conversation and photographs, we then had an after dinner stroll onto the breakwater were hundreds of children from about 2 years old up to teenagers were running and jumping into the sea from about 15 feet up on the breakwater. We saw hundreds of crabs and shrimps laid out to dry between the nets.

It was time to go and we thanked Nice One walked us through the original part of the town and took us to his home to meet his family befor getting us a taxi and negotiating a really good fare back to Darkuman. What a start to our holiday!

I'm having a bit of trouble loading photos at the moment but I'm sure I will find a way soon. Watch this space.