Understanding South Africa

To understand the South Africa of today I felt the need to delve into its past and attempt to summarise a very complicated history!

When the first Europeans arrived in South Africa, the Portuguese, they paid little interest in the Cape, although they can be credited with providing the name, Cape of Good Hope in 1487. In 1647 a Dutch vessel became marooned in the water near Cape Town. Retreating to land to build a fort for protection, they waited a full year for rescue, inadvertently becoming the first European settles. Soon after, the Dutch settled in the Cape, although even at this time they restricted contact with the local people. Instead the Dutch East India Company dispatched their own people to farm the land. Most of these people were of Dutch decent accompanied by some Germans and later by the French Huguenots (who fled persecution due to their protestant beliefs). When we visited Franschhoek (French corner) these French roots are widely celebrated, we even stayed within the Chamonix wine estate. Later generations of these Europeans became known as the Boers (wandering farmers).

What the Dutch did next had a huge impact on the future racial makeup on South Africa. They began importing slaves, mainly from Madagascar and Indonesia. Over time these slaves, the local indigenous people, and the Europeans began to mix. Their offspring form the basis of South Africa’s coloured population. It might be worth noting that coloured is a perfectly acceptable term in South Africa. In fact in Ghana people are also referenced by their skin colour, it’s no different from saying the blonde woman or the thin man.

When the British arrived to take the Cape from the failing Dutch in the late 18th century they also took along 5000 British settlers, adding another dynamic to the Cape’s white population. Later, between 1860 and the early 20th century, 150,000 Indians arrived, some as slaves and some by free passage. The white settlers saw themselves as superior and took land and jobs where they saw fit. The Boers became insular people, isolated farmers, believing it was their duty to the Lord to rule over the black South Africans. Much later decedents of the Boers became known as Afrikaans.

Moving forward to 1910 and Britain signed the Act of the Union, bringing together various areas to create the Union of South Africa, still ruling in favour of the white population. The Afrikaans found themselves as poor farmers and a nationalist movement began, rejecting English as an official language and campaigning for full independence from the British. With these ideals the National Party (NP) was born in 1914.

To consider the Act of the Union, in 2016, seems crazy. The white people of South Africa made up 20% of the population yet they were given 90% of the land and this was done by simply evicting people from the land on which they lived. Yet the black population could not vote unless they owned land, thus creating a Catch-22 situation.

The British had promised freedom from Boer slavery but it was pure propaganda. A raft of laws were passed preventing the black and coloured population from going on strike or taking skilled jobs. With growing suppression of anyone who wasn’t white the African National Congress was formed in 1923, their goal at this time – to represent the black population of South Africa.

It was in 1948 that the National Party won a coalition vote and Apartheid, meaning being apart, was born. An already prominent separation between the races was legislated. Interracial marriages became illegal, separate beaches, buses, hospitals, schools, even park benches were established. Blacks and coloureds were forced to carry identity documents at all times and were prevented entering certain areas without permits. They were also not allowed to vote.

Apartheid fired up the previously conservative ANC into action along with other similar bodies. By 1960 racial tensions had reached a head and at a protest in Sharpsville police opened fire on protesters, 67 people were killed and 186 wounded, many shot in the back. Many saw this as a turning point, a clear indication of the way South Africa was being ruled.

Growing tensions and protests from the ANC resulted in a raft of new laws which ultimately led to the imprisonment of Nelson Mandela and seven others. The decades that followed, with the ANC underground and much of the movement in prison, are sometimes referred to as the decades of darkness. Apartheid only grew stronger, most notably with the development of the homeland areas. These areas were supposed to allow the black community to live together as self-sufficient, self-governing entities. The reality was many people crammed into a small area which could not supply enough food and with no infrastructure or industry, many fled to the city where the situation was only marginally better.

On the approach into Cape Town today shanty towns can be seen off the main road. Row upon row of small corrugated sheet metal houses are lined up terrace style. So small and fragile, you might wonder if they are temporary, but you will see electricity pylons line the area, and satellite dishes are dotted around. I wonder if this image might not be so far removed from the homelands of the 70s.

In the 80s, with the white population shrinking to around 16%, it was recognised that things would have to change. It wasn’t until 1990 however that Mandela and other political prisoners were freed, 27 years after his incarceration. By 1991 apartheid was officially abolished. In 1993/4 a new constitution was written with constitutional rights for all groups. The new ‘Rainbow’ flag of South Africa was raised and Nelson Mandela became the first black head of state and the first President elected by a fully represented democratic election.

The 20 years that have followed haven’t exactly been smooth. Issues of crime, corruption and racial tensions are still prevalent. People convicted of criminal acts in the fight for democracy remained imprisoned long after the political prisoners were freed. Let’s hope that the Rainbow nation can continue to move forward in a positive way and perhaps eventually tackle those issues that still remain.

Our trip to southern South Africa was wonderful. With stunning landscapes, wildlife in abundance, lovely people and excellent food and wine. I would love to see more and ultimately, understand more about this beautiful country.


Tramping in New Zealand

I wrote this magazine article back in 2015 but for some reason it never ended up on my blog, If anyone is planning a walking trip to NZ, plenty of good tips here!

Ask anyone who has been to New Zealand and they will tell you how the outdoors calls to you in this rugged and seemingly untamed country. It may seem too adventurous to step out into the wild to explore, but it doesn’t have to be thanks to the NZ Department Of Conservation (DOC). They have developed a series of Great Walks which provide waymarked trails through the otherwise vast and inaccessible NZ countryside.


There are nine walks in total, three in the North Island, six in the south. The distance and terrain varies as does the summer/winter accessibility. The most famous and popular is perhaps the Milford track which allows you to walk into the beautiful Milford Sound.

In December 2014 I travelled to Queenstown in the South where I met my old school friend who had taken a short flight down from her home in Wellington. Always on the lookout for the next adventure we had decided to combine two of the Great Walks to create a seven day hike (or Tramp as the locals call it). We would start with the Kepler Track before going straight on to the Routeburn Track.

The Kepler is a circular walk with two potential entry/exit points. We decided it made the most sense for us to complete it in the direction described in the DOC leaflet but there is nothing to stop it being completed in reverse. To start the walk we had to make our way to Te Anau, so we used one of the shuttle bus services which runs from Queenstown. You can use a similar service to transfer you to, and from, the Kepler track car park where the walk begins.

The daily distances and accent on these walks is well documented and broken down in the DOC leaflets, these can be downloaded from their website. As well as the main track there are a number of side trips described. We did the majority of these and always found them incredibly worthwhile. The Kepler track reminded us both of Scotland with a stunning ridge walk on Day 2 which was very beautiful and atmospheric in swirling clouds and faint blue sky. The walk out through forest and an old land slip was also beautiful. At our final hut, Moturau – which is on the shore of Lake Manapouri, we found stunning weather and promptly plunged into the icy lake. This was the third day without a shower, and so freshening up was rather appealing!


The huts provide basic accommodation, there are bunks with mattresses, sinks and flushing toilets (in summer). They also have a kitchen/dining area and a hut ranger is resident in summer who deals with any problems and also provides a weather update. The Kepler and the Routeburn huts also have gas stoves but these were not self-igniting so we did get caught out by the fact we didn’t have matches or a lighter. It is necessary to carry your own sleeping bag, food and even a plate, cup, cutlery and pan. Of course you also need to carry your clothes and maybe a small towel. Anything you carry in you must carry out, including your rubbish.

We left the Kepler track on Day 4 at the Rainbow Reach car park. This reduced the walk length by 9.5km but allowed us time to catch the shuttle back into Te Anau, stock up on food supplies, and catch our next shuttle to The Divide. At 532m, The Divide is the lowest crossing of the Southern Alps and one end of the Routeburn track. In this instance we were starting the route in reverse to that described in the leaflet but it made perfect sense as it reduced our car travel time and resulted in us essentially walking ourselves back out to Glenorchy near Queenstown.


The Routeburn is a 3 day walk, during which you tramp through both the Mt Aspiring and Fiordland National Parks. We were blessed with spectacular weather and the terrain varied from forestry and beautiful blue lakes to waterfalls and snowy ridge lines. We continued to find freezing cold lakes and rivers to freshen up in along the way. When we made it to the Routeburn Shelter near Glen Orchy we were more than ready for our shuttle back to Queenstown and a hot shower. It is worth noting that no special skills are required for the walks in summer, if there is late summer snow the DOC will close the track. Obviously you have to be fit enough to carry everything you need and you should always carry additional food in case you have to take to cover in one of the designated shelters along the route due to bad weather.


  • Huts MUST been booked up in advance and popular dates fill up fast, book through the DOC website.
  • Hut tickets must be collected a maximum of 48 hours beforehand in order for you to receive the latest weather. When booking check where you must collect them and factor this into your trip. Check the hut facilities – do they have stoves and gas for example?
  • You can buy dehydrated meals in many of the local supermarkets, these are easy and tasty. Remember, there is no kettle so even with this option you need a pan to boil water. These meals are marked as gluten free where appropriate. It’s not possible to take any food into NZ, and all luggage is scanned on arrival.
  • In many cases the walks can be followed in either direction, and some require specialist skills in winter, check the DOC website for more information.
  • DOC: http://www.doc.govt.nz/parks-and-recreation/things-to-do/walking-and-tramping/great-walks/
  • Shuttle Services: http://www.tracknet.net/tracknet/welcomeTNT


Blood River

Tim Butcher describes his book Blood River as a journey to Africa’s broken heart. This book, together with an image that has been haunting me on facebook, make for an interesting discussion. At the time this book was written Tim Butcher was the chief war correspondent and African Bureau Chief for the Daily Telegraph. For a number of reasons he becomes obsessed with the goal of walking in the footsteps of the Welsh explorer Henry Morton Stanley, when he mapped the mighty Congo River in 1874. It took him a number of years, but Tim finally made it to the Democratic Republic of Congo in 2004 to start what many thought was a suicidal journey following Stanley’s route.

What does this have to do with the image that keeps being shared on facebook? Well the image shows an African child drinking from a puddle. It’s accompanied by text declaring the injustice of sending humans into space when we cannot solve our own problems here on earth. It’s not the image itself that haunts me, it is the message it’s attempting to convey. It implies that if we took all the money invested in space travel and ploughed it into Africa, their problems would be solved.

If we think about it though, Africa has a vast array of natural resources, diamonds, salt, gold, iron, cobalt, uranium, copper, bauxite, silver, petroleum, cocoa beans, woods, tropical fruits – all these things are in high demand and earn Africa money. The trouble is not money, it’s that often the money only makes its way into the pockets of a relatively small number, not to the country in general, and not to the people who need it. Tim see’s this first hand in the Cobalt mining town of Lubumbashi where only a few locals are benefiting from mining jobs. The rest of the income quickly leaves the Congo via a network of bribes and back handers, each official taking their cut.

Tim also describes life before colonial rule when the majority of Africa was ruled by local village chiefs, and above them paramount chiefs. During that time the local people had a level of sovereign power as they were able to oust chiefs who were not serving them well. Consequently, the chiefs had to act in the interests of the people. When colonial rule spread across Africa this sovereign power was taken away. The tribal system of chiefs still existed, and continues to today, but ultimately they are overruled by the government.

Of course it is not just Africa that was subjected to colonial rule. If we consider my two most recent homes as an example. Singapore gained independence 51 years ago, Ghana 59 years, both from the British. Both countries were in a similar state of development and now, in 2016 they are about the two most opposite countries I can think of. Yes you could argue Singapore is a small island and much easier to control and develop, but consider Malaysia instead. Why have some countries advanced much further than those in Africa despite similar circumstances when they gained independence?

Tim asks an interesting question. At the end of colonial rule, when power was surrendered, did it end up in the right place? In Congo he feels it certainly didn’t, that power was taken, not by the people, but by elites claiming to work in the interest of the people. These are the leaders that walk past the children drinking from puddles or dying of malnutrition but still continue to rule in their own self-interest.

Tim’s account of his journey is a fascinating insight into a massive African country, still in political unrest and perhaps largely forgotten about. He meets some wonderful and also unsavoury characters along the way. He had done a huge amount of research before undertaking this journey and whilst in the Congo he asked people what really happened. He was trying to understand why, in 2004, the Congo had less infrastructure, resources, and security that it did 70 years previously.

Ironically the situation is summed up by a diamond trader that Tim meets – “If you think you can solve Africa’s problems with money then you are a bloody fool. You solve Africa’s problems by creating a system of justice that actually works and by making the leaders accountable for their actions. If that happens, I guess things would get a lot more competitive in my business, but it would be good for Africa.

There are reasons why that facebook image bothers me, and a lot of them are discussed in this wonderful book. You can’t help but feel that until the right people, their own elite, want to change Africa, there is only so much help outsiders can provide, just money isn’t the answer.

Mont Blanc

Often referred to as the classic route up Mont Blanc it’s quite exciting to jump on the Bellevue cablecar and then transfer to the Tramway du Mont Blanc. With the help of these two modes of transport you eventually pop out at 2372m. This tram is the highest rack railway in France and from its stop at Nid d’Aigle you can already see the Gouter hut perched on the cliff edge. It took us four and a half hours to climb the 1445m to the hut and we could see it the entire time. From the tram station it is steadily up all the way, first on relatively easy ground before gradually getting steeper.

Near the Tete Rousse hut it’s necessary to put on helmets and rope together to cross the Grand Couloir. We crossed the most risky section at a slow jog, roped together, such is the hazard from serious rockfall. Once passed the immediate danger we remained roped together with helmets on for the remaining 550m ascent to the hut. This section was really fun to scramble up, aside from the moment that a group above sent some pretty big stones rumbling down the mountainside. Thankfully their path didn’t cross any climbers although they came close enough to us to be a little worrying.

At the top of the scramble you arrive at the old Gouter hut. From here crampons are necessary to cross the last short section to the new Gouter hut, 3817m. For us the weather was clear and crisp, and setting eyes on the space age Gouter hut was a very welcome sight. The drop down to the valley either side is immense and breathtakingly beautiful.

After some lunch we headed up the ridge above the hut for some crevasse rescue training. Another comedy moment ensued as Gianni suggested I walk off the side whilst attached to the rope so he could demonstrate rescuing me. The slope was sheer and I would have fallen a couple thousand meters had I not been attached to a rope. This is the sort of thing every mountaineer should try, a lesson in trusting your equipment! This is also the point I learnt that my lightweight alpine harness is not that comfortably to hang around in for any length of time, ouch! Various techniques were practiced and repeated, but I must confess to finding the surrounding views somewhat distracting.
That evening I had very little sleep in the Gouter Hut. A combination of nerves, excitement and slightly irritating night lights meant that I maybe got 2 to 3 hours at best. By 2:30am we were sat having breakfast and just after 3 we hit the ridge for the long slog to the summit. Gianni had insisted on inspecting our bags the night before and we were told under no uncertain terms to leave everything behind in the hut that wasn’t essential. We would return to collect these items on the descent. Despite having a lightweight backpack I found the first 30 minutes after breakfast very difficult. Gianni seemed to take off at top speed and we passed quite a few groups. Each surge to pass a group seemed to take so much extra energy. My legs had turned to lead, my chest was tight and each uphill step was a struggle. Thoughts tend to stir at this point, as you trudge on suffering in the dark. Your mind will try to play tricks on you, giving you reasons not to continue. It’s fighting those thoughts and feelings and continuing to suffer that is usually the key to success. Also in the back of my mind the commitment factor reared its ugly head again . If I opted to turn back Tara would be forced to also and there was no way I was letting that happen. So, I plodded on, taking deep breaths and just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. The gradient was pretty relentless and Gianni kept promising that we had reached the ‘last’ steep section. A common guiding trick, just lie about what is still to come!

Gianni had told us that it might take 4 or 5 hours to reach the summit, so when after just three hours he said we were nearly there I suddenly realised that I could make it. The first shafts of light broke the skyline and soon the struggle to climb was forgotten as we made our way slowly up the summit ridge. We were just in time to see the sun rise above the horizon, with a cloud inversion shimmering, almost like a liquid, in the valley below. We stayed on the summit for around 30 minutes, totally unheard of in normal, cold weather conditions. We were very lucky. We were on top of Europe, and for each of those 30 minutes the light changed and danced and lit up the whole of the Alps at our feet.

When we turned to descend the ridge I was taken aback. There was our route up, unknown to us in the dark, stretched out before us. No wonder it felt so tough, look how steep it is! Then there are those views, I couldn’t stop smiling. It took all my will power to concentrate on my crampon placement and not just stare at those views. Concentration was indeed required, its generally good etiquette to step aside for those going up so we had to pick our way down slowly and surely. Its funny how things look so different on the way down and in daylight. We came across a reasonable uphill section, I remember this feeling flat on the way up, not downhill! This was the Dome de Gouter peak and Gianni reasoned that we should add on a short section in order to climb two 4000m peaks in the same day. It was a very short detour so we couldn’t really argue with the logic, even on tired legs! Getting back to the Gouter hut was a very welcome rest. After an hour of recuperation, food and caffine we geared up once more to walk down to the Tete Rousse hut. This meant scrambling back down the loose rocky section, once again on the rope. Slow and steady on tired legs. We repeated our dash back across the Grand Couloir and finally reached the Tete Rousse, 3167m, and all that by lunchtime. We had been on our feet for 9 hours that day, climbed 992m and descended 1642m.
As we sat enjoying the afternoon sun at the Tete Rousse we could hear and see regular rockfall on the Grand Couloir. I can’t quite imagine doing this section in the dark if you had been late down from the mountain, or starting from the Tete Rousse hut in the early morning. All that was left was for us to toast our achievement and walk back to the tram the following morning. Mont Blanc the dream, had become a reality!

More photos here – https://www.flickr.com/gp/133913289@N03/3q4531


Grand Paradiso

Our Mont Blanc journey started with 3 days of acclimatisation and training on Grand Paradiso. After the drive through the Mont Blanc tunnel into Italy we climbed 850m from the road to the Federico Chabod hut, 2750m, reaching our destination by lunchtime. As we sat around acclimatising we practiced knots and some easy rock climbing, although maybe not so easy in big mountaineering boots! The knot lessons turned out to be hilarious as our Italian guide Gianni only knew the Italian names for the knots and us only the English. Each time he showed us a knot we had to work out if it was one we had seen before and try to remember the English name. After an incredibly hot night in the hut, we rose at 4am for a quick breakfast before heading off wearing our head torches. We made our way towards the glacier on the North West face of Grand Paradiso. First crossing moraine, before pausing at the base of the ice to gear up with harness, ice axe and crampons. 

This was the first time either of us had been on a glacier and as the sun rose it illuminated numerous crevasses. This is the point to be grateful that we were on a rope…….and attached to a guide! Peering down into the larger crevasses revealed nothing but darkness and a real sense of the potential danger. Even a small crevasse would hurt if one leg suddenly fell into it, although with no fresh snow this is probably less likely to happen. As we climbed the glacier I began to get more and more frustrated. The sun was rising, the views amazing, but we couldn’t stop to enjoy and instead had to continue moving. My head was swimming with the altitude, that familiar feeling of being light headed, and I began to get very, very hungry. I was also frustrated with Gianni who kept tugging on the rope as if to say, hurry up!! Only later did he tell me he was keeping the rope tight in case we fell, not as a means of rushing us on. I knew we were making good time, we had passed a couple of other parties but not been passed by others and this did nothing but add to my frustrations. Thankfully I have been on enough guided trips to know that ultimately you just need to trust the guide. I knew it was important to move steadily on the glacier, reducing the risk, and I suspected he had an ulterior motive for getting us up there as quickly as possible.

alps-36I was eventually promised a break at the saddle where I promptly shoved a Trek bar down me whilst listening to Gianni repeatedly saying ‘Strong Sarah’. I think it was a given that Tara was strong (she was to have her frustrated moment later) and his approach was that if he said ‘Strong Sarah’ enough times I might begin to believe him. With food in my stomach and my breath caught, his enthusiasm worn me back down to my usual smiling self. In the back of my mind I was already making mental notes to pack my snacks in more accessible locations for Mont Blanc!

At this point I seemed to get a second wind and off we plodded to the summit ridge. We removed our crampons and rucksacks for the last airy scramble to the Madonna statue, 4061m. After taking some photographs and enjoying the views we scrambled back to retrieve our bags. Just in time it would seem as the steady stream of people now trying to pass each other on that thin ridge line was getting a bit crazy, hence Gianni’s rush up the glacier earlier.

I am generally happy going downhill, my muscles cope better and the altitude very quickly eases as you descend. Tara however, hadn’t prepared herself for the monotony of going downhill on a rope in crampons, normally used to running down at breakneck speed instead. She became increasingly frustrated when she caught her crampon on her trouser leg and tripped herself up, sending her ice axe flying. As with going up on the rope, going down must be slow and steady. It is amazing how mentally draining it is to walk as a group and not at your own pace. Gianni was his usual cheerful self, repeatedly telling us to walk like a duck, which was not particularly Elegant! Apparently this is the best way to engage all the crampon points for good grip and the technique can be applied on both ice and exposed rock. My GPS watch was tracking us for 7 hours that day, probably at least 5 of those were spent on the rope, moving together as a group. When we eventually reached the glacier edge and were able to remove our crampons and harnesses we were very happy girls. As we picked our way down to the Vittorio Emanuele hut, 2735m, it started to sink in that we had our first 4000m Alpine peak under our belts! We had a short walk out the following morning before returning to Chamonix for some sport climbing. That evening we repacked our bags for Mont Blanc, trying to go as lightweight as possible and incorporate the lessons learned from those first three days.


Dreaming of Mont Blanc

I can still remember the first time I laid eyes on Mont Blanc. It was my birthday, October 2005. Whilst on holiday in Geneva we had decided to take the slightly complicated train route to Chamonix and up the Aiguille du Midi cable car to 3842m. This view point and restaurant shown below, high on the side of Mont Blanc, is a very popular tourist attraction.


Even then, before my mountain addiction had really manifested itself, the joy of being in the company of great rising peaks would bring a smile to my face. I remember watching a man in mountaineering kit slumped on a seat trying to catch his breath. I looked at his alien, technical equipment and wondered what he was feeling. It may seem strange that seeing someone struggling would be in some way inspiring, but I suppose I have always recognised that the greater the struggle, the greater the reward.

On that day in 2005 the seed of an idea was planted, although back then I knew nothing about mountaineering and didn’t really consider that one day I could stand on Mont Blanc’s domed summit. It was a few years later in 2009 that I joined a hill walking club for the first time. I started to enjoy the Scottish hills with the club and new friends before eventually, due to offshore shifts, going solo. I learned to navigate and keep myself safe and soon found that being alone in the hills was just as enjoyable as sharing the journey with others.

In 2012 I experienced high altitude for the first time when I summited Kilimanjaro, 5895m. Although I have walked above 4000m several times since, the African summit is still the highest I have ever been. I took up rock climbing, did some Scottish winter walking and slowly the dream to climb to the top of Europe developed. I even looked into going it alone but I was faced with two options. Either the expense of one to one guiding, or pairing up with a stranger. Although great friendships can be made in the mountains I had no interest in investing in months of training to put my faith in a stranger doing the same. Mont Blanc requirIMG-20160827-WA0011es commitment, either you both make it to the summit or you both turn back, as is the nature of roped guiding. Then a few years ago along came Tara, initially just a climbing partner and now one of my best friends. We have been through a lot together and it’s hard to believe I’ve only known her a few short years. Tara is incredibly strong and, luckily for me, she shared my Mont Blanc dream. A plan was developed, organisation started and skills and equipment tested in the Sierra Nevada in January.

Despite having been higher before, Mont Blanc made me nervous. It felt in my mind like a long term, elusive dream with so many elements of uncertainty. It was really my first technical, high altitude peak, the others had been purely walking. Commitment is required to walk on a rope, the decision to turn back would be not just affect me, but also Tara. I really didn’t want to let her, or myself down. Physical strength is necessary but mental awareness and concentration is also key, a roped party should move together, slow and steady.  The itinerary laid out by Mountain Tracks was excellent. The aim was to use the first three days to train and acclimatise by summiting Grand Paridiso in Italy. We would then return to the valley for a night to refresh before the three days allocated to attempt Mont Blanc. Those six days in the mountains were truly unforgettable, with a few lows and many highs along the way. That journey deserves its own post, so stay tuned!

Ghana in Pictures

As I prepare to leave Ghana for the first time in three months I have to confess to feeling a little strange. I have gotten used to this crazy corner of Africa that we have settled into and the idea of returning to the developed world seems a little, well, odd. I often say that so much of life in Ghana happens right by the side of the road. So as I Muse over the way that Ghana has changed our lives so far, with its fascinating challenges and wonderful people, I wanted to celebrate Ghana in pictures. Most of these have been taken from the car, whilst driving around Accra. There is always so much to see, so much happening, so perhaps this will give you some insight into my world!

I have to start with this photo, taken from our kitchen window. Even now, as I write this post, I can hear the horns of these street vendors circling the main road, selling their ice cream and meat pies. I have always thought that is an odd combination, or maybe the idea is you get a two course meal from the same guy!


All over Ghana stalls, tables or just spots on the road  are used to sell everything and anything. Food, clothing, baskets, wood carvings, jewelry, mud flaps, tyres, there isn’t anything you can’t buy.

You don’t have to think small either, sofas, televisions, beds, its all there!

Then there are the more portable items which are stacked expertly on the head to be sold at traffic lights. When I want to top up my mobile phone all I have to do is call the vendor  over to purchase a voucher, the whole transaction done without leaving the car.

Roadside advertising is also really popular, it reminds me of the yellow pages. Whether you require a cleaner, an electrician, rabbits, a security guard, whatever, just drive around the city and you will find a phone number offering their services, or, as the sign in the bottom right picture declares, ‘Call Fountain Man Now’! This one really makes me laugh, in many parts of the UK, this fountain would be stolen from its position on the busy roadside, but not in Ghana, here its role as an advert is respected.

Livestock are often commonly seen by the roadside, grazing or for sale, this is a goat market on a main route through the city.


These ladies are busy preparing fresh fish.


My final group of pictures has to go to the TroTros. These are the local mini buses, always overloaded and in a hurry. Driving by a TroTro station is entertaining, it looks like chaos but there is a system and it actually seems to work well. I  am always interested to see what profound statement the driver has decided to declare on the back window!

As always writing helps me to put those odd feelings into some order in my head. I often find Ghana inspiring, whether it’s inspiring me to be creative, to try new things, or to look at something in a new way. May Ghana continue to be my Muse!