Best Laid Plans (Part 11)

Day 1

Joe and I made our way through JFK and the Kotoka International Airport (and flirted with Heathrow in-between). The US Customs official kindly helped us with the paperwork we needed to get back into the country without having to pay taxes on our equipment and one of the flight attendants en route to Heathrow gave me free wine (Joe doesn’t drink so I got to have his too!). So far, so good. Though neither of us could sleep during the overnight flight, we were happily distracted by the in-flight movies and television shows. Joe discovered my quiet obsession with Friday Night Lights and in particular, Mr. Tim Riggins. It’s true that I couldn’t tell you how in the hell you play a football game, but that’s besides the point. I say, if a girl wants to watch a little FNL before going to Africa she should be able to do that without someone (Joe) yammering in her ear.

Wait where was I?

Right, the flights. So, we made it through to Heathrow on time and without a hitch. The next flight was more of the same… watching the in-flight television, trying to sleep and Joe judging my entertainment choices.

Finally, Accra! It was a long two days of traveling but the minute we landed, Joe and I got our second wind. After all the planning, the interviewing, the applications and the arrangements, we had made it – along with most of our luggage. We were told that our tripod case was still in England and would be arriving the next night. Thankfully, Joe and I had packed the tripod case so that it only contained equipment that, if lost, wouldn’t keep us from shooting. Best laid plans I guess…

Joe and I, along with 3/4 of our luggage hopped in a taxi to go to our hotel. My second wind was very quickly fading and I longed for a bed. We were told that taxis often changed prices around and you had to be mindful of not getting ripped off. Our first taxi experience seemed to be no exception. We were quoted an initial price but then told that it was just for the car… apparently, driving is extra. One has to appreciate the ingenuity of a person that doesn’t just lump in the act of driving with the experience of sitting in a cab. That person belongs in capitalist America I think! Somebody get that guy a Visa! Once we arrived at the hotel, we were then asked for beer money. Neither Joe or I condone drinking and driving, so with a smile and a shake of our heads we made our way into the hotel.

Goodnight Accra. See you in the morning…