Home Sweet Home

I arrived back at Heathrow as always delighted to be home, until I got to customs and saw the glum look on the welcome committees herding round the exit. It dawns on you at such times what you have come back to: cold/rain/snow (circle one), and reality comes crashing down.

After negotiating my way around the illegal taxi drivers touting for business, I headed straight for the valet parking pick-up point. My car arrived within minutes but had gained an 18 inch crack on its windscreen. Even then, visibility was remarkably better than the rental “Boatman” had procured for me in Accra.

Frosty Reception

Nut Job

You know how sometimes you get “that” feeling, or that little voice in your head that tells you NO? For goodness sakes, listen to it. “Boatman” was a nightmare. I don’t know what he was expecting, but since he never got it he turned into the loathsome person I knew he could be. He started raking up old news, whining about the deposit he lost on the engagement ring and trying to squeeze £100 out of me. Can you imagine? To think that I nearly married that Muppet. I shudder at the thought and say a prayer to the good Lord for delivering me from such evil!!!!

I was running late to the airport, though since I was on Africa time I could hardly call it late! Anyway, he was eager to get a reaction from me ahead of my departure and instructed the driver to abandon me and my oversized suitcases at the side of the road, all because I was 20 minutes late. Who could be so cruel? Now, as far as he was concerned, I was left destitute by the roadside, still recovering from malaria, and about to miss my flight. Unbeknownst to him, however, his kindhearted driver made sure I got to the airport in good time whilst we bitched about his boss!

I had a feeling our rekindled friendship would be more trouble than it was worth. I have since trashed his number...

So, not quite feeling 100% and still concerned about malaria, I hot-footed my way to the Hospital of Tropical Diseases near Tottenham Court Road. After 6 hours I got the all clear. It would have been done sooner, but they needed a few samples and I am no good at “preforming on demand!”   We got  eventually got what we needed, though, and I could put my mind at ease.

By this point I was totally exhausted and realised I had done very little training in the 5 days I was away, and that made me feel even worse.  It was snowing, cold and wet, but armed with a cuppa (cup of tea) and a Hobnob (cookie) I was at peace, and realised there still is no place like home. 

 

Touch down

An Ex

I landed at Kotoka International airport and “Boatman” was there to meet me, and he looked a hot mess! No longer the well-polished slick businessman, he looked tired and wizened, wearing a faded shirt with much worn elbows; he had clearly stumbled on hard times.

 

Driving conditions



I smiled sweetly as he embraced with me, and I made a big show of air kisses trying to keep my distance. After lots of faffing around we got to the car and loaded it with my back- breaking suitcases, and I delicately placed my well-travelled birthday cake on the passenger seat. And then spent the best part of 20 minutes trying to figure out how the vehicle worked. As always, Boatman didn’t have a clue; Boatman doesn’t drive as he has a penchant for “grown up juice.” It is probably for the best; he is a functioning alcoholic and would put all our lives at risk.

In hindsight, perhaps my peace offing of a 20-year old single malt whisky was not the best idea. I had already figured that out when on receipt of the gift he said he would stop off at the filling station for some Coke. Anyway. I finally managed to get the car going and made my way home.



Local Pub



The staff!



Disaster

When Barry’s big day arrived we had planned to spend the day at the beach with his cousins whom he hadn’t seen for a while, but unfortunately the day before I was taken ill. Whilst at the airport I had been bitten by a few mosquitoes; ordinarily this isn’t a problem, and to be honest I never take anti-malarial tablets simple because I fly to Ghana on average 4 times a year, but this time it was different.

Prior to my trip I had watched this heart-wrenching BBC movie “Mary and Martha” starring Hillary Swank. This mini-movie was based on a true story about two mothers who lost their sons to malaria.

I was inconsolable by the end of the movie, and I found the newspaper article which told the story of one of the sons who had travelled to Ghana to teach children in the village schools. After seeing how ill the children were getting he gave his own tablets to the children as he felt their needs were greater. Unfortunately, on his return home he had flu-like symptoms and died shortly after. 

http://www.cultbox.co.uk/reviews/episodes/6263-mary-and-martha-review

The main town

 

So, when in the morning I felt a little heady, and by evening the ache had developed into throbbing behind the eyes, I didn’t hang about. I went straight to the pharmacy and got myself some malaria tablets. The only thing is, they make you feel so much worse! They brought out the fever - night sweats – and I got so hot I had to sleep on a mat outside (with even more mosquitoes).

On the morning of Barry’s Birthday I was a sweaty heap of body parts lying on the veranda.  This put a halt to all birthday celebrations, which made me feel even worse.

I have some major making-up to do!

The bottom line is: malaria is no joke, so be sure to take precautions!!!! 

Landscape