In Ivory Coast and on to Accra in Ghana, we decide to cycle more or less on the straight country road for two reasons. The rainy season is early this year and it is catching up with us, so we try to get out of there a bit. Once the sky opens its floodgates, we have to seek shelter from the strong jets of water, and the dirt roads turn into mud baths. In addition, Marie has to fly home from Accra to celebrate her niece's confirmation.

Ivory Coast – palm oil and heat wave

Where Liberia was under strong American influence, in Ivory Coast we are back in a former French colony. The language and croissants are striking, but the country's cultural codes and political and economic situation are also very different. The landscape is also changing. The wild, intense thick jungle with trees and plants intertwined like a natural plant wall in Liberia is gone. So are the locals who walk around with a machete on their heads so as not to be swallowed by the jungle.

Instead, our eyes meet long straight rows of coconut palms, huge palm oil plantations as far as the eye can see, rubber plantations and cocoa factories. We see people with hand sprayers and tractors. There is a more streamlined approach to agriculture, and it is easy to see that there is more money in the country. It is estimated that 80% of all jungle has been cleared in Ivory Coast since the 1970s. A large part of the clearing is due to Ivory Coast being a supplier of tropical timber, agriculture, and illegal clearing of the jungle. Here, part of the forest area is cleared to produce cocoa, of which Ivory Coast is the world's largest supplier.

The most important industry in the country is still agriculture, but in recent years Ivory Coast has also started to export oil and gas and the country has West Africa's largest oil refinery, which also helps ensure their economic progress. Unfortunately, there are not many countries in West Africa where they process the natural resources in the country, which means that they miss out on both jobs and higher income for the country.

Tradition versus modern management

The large farms make it a bit more complicated to find a place to pitch the tent at night. The first few nights we pitch the tent by the power poles that run along the road. Here the vegetation is cleared and we can find a flat spot for the tent.

We also always think it's fun to stay with the locals, so when one day we see that it's closed due to a huge palm plantation, we think that now is the time to find a place with some locals to sleep. We think that it's no big deal, since it's been easy so far, and in Liberia we met a man from the Ivory Coast who spoke very well about his country. “You can ask anywhere, and you'll get a place to sleep”, he said. It sounds like sweet music to our ears and in line with the experiences we've had in West Africa so far.

So as the sun prepares to shine on some others, we start looking for places to pitch our tent for the night. We see a school and think it would be a good place. We turn off to find someone to ask if it's ok. It turns out that the school is part of the surrounding plantation. There is a guard who says that we should find the boss and ask him. We cycle into the plantation area and come to a village, where we ask for the village chief. A nice man is quick to understand what we want. People don't always fully agree with what we want when we explain that we have a tent, food and everything to spend the night. The tent in particular is not a concept that people are always familiar with. The man speaks English, and he wants to show us to the village chief. He just needs to change his undershirt into a nice T-shirt. He walks with us to the village chief and asks interestedly about our trip.

The village chief lives in a house at the end of the village. We can tell that he is highly respected. The clothes are brushed off before we go in. We can tell that he is the boss by the fact that there is a huge freezer with cold bags of water in it. It is in high demand. Otherwise, there is not much else in the large room except the freezer and chairs and tables. We are seated on two chairs, and the man begins to explain our request. The chief's adult daughter is also there. She speaks good English and is completely in agreement with what we want. "You can put up the tent anywhere," she says. She is lovely, and we would like to talk to her more. The boss also says good for us. He just needs to call and get it approved by the plantation owner.

The mood is good, and we think it's a formality. But when the boss calls, we can see from his facial expression that there are problems. The smile hardens, and his face takes on the wrong folds. He says; “daccord, daccord” and hangs up.

The chief and our friend speak in a mixture of French and local languages, and we can understand that they are exploring other options. Whether they can hide us. The daughter is deeply disappointed and does not hide it. We are a little embarrassed that we have put them in a bad situation. We can feel how the refusal goes against their traditions of welcoming strangers and the role of the village chief as the head of his village. We can imagine that someone was sitting on the other end of the phone and did not quite understand it and thought – we say no just to be safe.

We hurry to say thank you very much for the help and that we can easily find another place to sleep. It is getting dark, so we need to move quickly. The daughter is also well aware of this, and she looks towards the sun, which is about to set on the horizon. The plantation is huge, and now it is definitely not an option to pitch the tent in it. We pedal harder and luckily there is a small path further ahead that goes down to a cassava field. Here we set up the tent for the night under a fine palm tree and watch the last rays of the sun disappear into the darkness while we eat our rice and sardines. Or rather, Marie hides behind the mosquito net in the tent, as the mosquitoes love her very much.

Our first scorpion

The next day, Kenneth slams on the brakes and shouts excitedly: “Did you see that?” A giant scorpion runs across the road. Kenneth starts the big photo session, while Marie thinks Kenneth is a little too close to it. Kenneth thinks that it is the smaller scorpions that are more dangerous. The scorpion is huge – at least 15cm and with two big claws. It is fascinating how it manages to crawl down into a ditch and back up again along the smooth concrete edge. So it is a little more peaceful with the many lizards that are buzzing around everywhere. In different colors. They seem to be quite crazy about the bikes and buzz up and down on the tires or hang out in the sun on the warm black saddle.

Quench your thirst with coconut water

Ivory Coast has a tropical savannah climate with humidity and high heat, and we feel like bacon on a grill. The sun is almost on our skin, and we are constantly thirsty. We agree every day to take a break when the afternoon heat hits, but we never really manage to do so.

We try to buy electrolytes at a pharmacy, but without success. They have no idea what they are. Luckily, we know clever Annika, who is a physiotherapist and cyclist, and she taught us that bananas and coconuts have the same function as electrolytes. They contain a natural composition of potassium, sodium and magnesium, which ensures that we don't just flush the water we have consumed back out. Nature is fantastic. And it's useful new knowledge for us, because in Ivory Coast it's easy to find fresh coconuts. There's often a woman or man standing on the side of the road with a wheelbarrow full of fresh coconuts. With a machete, a hole is made in the top of the nut, and we can drink the coconut water. Afterwards, they open it and we can eat the fresh coconut meat. It tastes heavenly, and a coconut only costs 3-5 kr.

We also enjoy the small coffee shops in the towns we pass. They are made super nicely like a bar, you sit around them. They serve coffee and omelette sandwiches, which we are big fans of, and it is a nice way to get into dialogue with the locals. Bakers have also returned after many countries with a cake drought, which is definitely the former French influence that plays a role here. The best thing now is the small stalls on the side of the road, where we can buy fresh fruit – papaya, coconuts, bananas, pineapples and sometimes oranges, which we haven't seen for a long time either. It is the best in the heat and simply so nice to have a little rest in the shade with the locals.

Ghana – greatness and decline

Ghana is a big surprise for us. The guidebook describes the country as 'Africa for beginners', and when we read about the country, it is political stability, a better economy, and that the country is more developed that are emphasized. A country where tourists go to dip their bodies in the roaring Atlantic Ocean. A country known for its stability, which has been spared civil war and has not experienced a coup since 1981, which is quite unique in West Africa. However, we find out that something is afoot, and perhaps the population's vision of never rebelling is not luck either.

The first impression at the border is that it's all a bit more professional with scanning passports and fingerprints – or maybe it's because many of our border crossings have taken place through small borders in the countryside, but now we're on the main road at a larger border post. At the border we're sent in to the boss to get our stamp. The office is a nice break from the heath with air conditioning and nice furniture, which we settle into. There's another man sitting in the room and they chat for a bit. The boss is friendly but measured. He starts working on our passports and suddenly exclaims: 'Denmark – you bathe in ice in the winter', he says with a big laugh. The other guest looks at him very suspiciously. Kenneth grabs it immediately and agrees that we make a hole in the ice and bathe in it. Several times. The boss nods towards the other guest in the room with a look that signals – what did I say. That's all it takes to lift the mood, and we quickly get our passports stamped and welcomed to Ghana.

Spotted like a plaice

We've both had heat rash for a while, but it's gone away completely lately. We have red bumps on almost our entire bodies. We've also got some bumps that look like bites, but aren't mosquito bites. We know those. One evening it's extra itchy, and we start talking about whether it could be something other than heat rash? Maybe it's scabies or bedbugs? The pictures on Google of course fit both, and it suddenly itches even more. We write to our sweet cycling friend, Peter, who is a nurse, and he doesn't think it's scabies from the pictures. Phew! We decide to swing by a hospital in Ghana anyway. The process of being registered, getting a huge booklet as a record, and paying takes longer than talking to the doctor. But they're nice, and we're glad they're taking us in. They quickly rule out scabies. So far so good. They don't think bedbugs are that common in the country anymore... and we haven't seen any either. In return, they want to test us for malaria. Since Marie isn't completely well, we get a test done. We both have malaria parasites in our blood, but the levels are so low that if we just continue taking Malarone, it's fine. We don't know anything about our bites, but we come to the conclusion that it might be sand fleas that have bitten us. Our wise friend Peter suggests we take an antihistamine for the hot flashes, and fortunately that helps quickly.

One man's bread is another man's death

In return, we learn more about Ghana. Before we leave the doctor, he asks if we drink the local water? We tell him that we get water from the local wells and filter the water. He looks at us authoritatively and says that he would not recommend that we do that in Ghana. There is so much illegal mining that the groundwater is polluted. In the long run, Ghana will have to buy drinking water from abroad, he continues gloomily with a serious and almost resigned expression on his face. He tells us that it is the Chinese who are doing the illegal mining. How one of the farmers who asked questions about the mining ended up here in the hospital. At this point, we have been in Ghana for a few hours. 

Illegal mining and its consequences are a recurring topic in our conversations with locals and foreigners living in Ghana. Illegal mining takes place in two ways. There are local Ghanaians who are looking for gold. It is often on a small scale, but it is very polluting to the groundwater and destructive to agriculture. We saw some young men in rubber boots standing in a mud hole close to the road to the sound of generators running at full power. We asked what they were doing and they shouted back 'illegal mining' with a huge laugh. It wasn't long before a man came and waved us away with big arm movements. So even though it is illegal, it is at least not invisible. In addition, the Chinese are doing illegal mining, which is much more organized and which poses the biggest threat to the country.

We cycle further into the country, and we feel a slightly tense atmosphere. A kind of desperation. It is so clear to see that many are dissatisfied. That behind the smile there is something more hidden.

We have many conversations with locals and foreigners who live in the country about the situation in Ghana. We are staying with a fantastic French woman; Danielle, in Busua, which is a small, cozy surfer town. Danielle and her husband built a hotel 21 years ago, which she still runs after her husband passed away. She tells us how she can feel the change in the country. The high inflation and high unemployment. She also mentions illegal mining and how it destroys agriculture and cocoa production. A full 30% of the cocoa pulp exported to Europe has been rejected due to excessive content of poison (from mining). The tourism industry has also had some tough years both during and after the pandemic. Danielle adds that even more tourists would visit Ghana if they could get a visa when they arrive in the country instead of applying for it in advance and paying for it. She mentions Senegal as an example. Here they had also introduced that you had to apply for visas in advance, but when they experienced a large drop in the number of tourists, they changed it again. In general, many industries are challenged and many are having difficulty coping. There is officially 75% unemployment in Ghana, and many live off unofficial jobs. 

We hear the same thing while we are having lunch in a small town. We get into conversation with a man who asks where we are from. When we say Denmark, he exclaims: “It is my favorite country!”. Kenneth asks him what he likes best about Denmark. It turns out, not surprisingly, that he knows nothing about Denmark, but he is sharp, and says that Denmark is the symbol of the dream of a better life. As we have heard in almost all countries in West Africa, the people miss visionary leaders who want the best for the people instead of filling their own pockets. He talks about the hopelessness he experiences and that he cannot see a future for himself in Ghana. It is difficult to get a job and finances to support a family. He points to the worn asphalt road and says that there is no development. We think the road is fine compared to some of the other countries, but it is clear that when the country has previously been in economic progress and the government has promised development, then it is a decline. We try to challenge him that perhaps coming to Denmark is not his luck either, and that it is better for him to stay in Ghana and fight for a change in the state of things. He shakes his head, and it is clear that he has given up. He is certainly not a fan of the current president, who he does not think has lived up to his election promises. So he is very happy that there is an election in December. It turns into a longer conversation and more perspectives on life in Ghana. It is not black and white, but filled with as many nuances as a color palette. While we are talking, the woman who had the small food stall gives a homeless person free food and a water bag.

Overnight stay at a gas station

We have chosen a nice place on the coast that we are trying to reach for the night. But things don't always go as planned. We cycle off in a heat wave and are absolutely delighted when we see a fruit stand. We buy a pineapple, and the woman at the roadside stall is so sweet to cut it for us. It is sweet, juicy and tastes heavenly. As we sit in the shade and look out at the sky, we can see that it is starting to get a little bit darker. We probably won't avoid rain today, we agree. When we get back on our bikes, after a while we can see that it is raining on the horizon and much faster than expected, it starts to drip on us. We turn into a gas station, and it starts to rain down in thigh-thick rays. We look at each other and then at a garage that is an extension of the gas station. We ask the women if there is a place where we can pitch a tent for the night, and she points to the garage. “You can sleep there,” she says. We feel like we’ve hit the jackpot. All we have to do is move some tires and an old car seat, and as long as we don’t fall into the mechanic’s pit, it’s a perfect place to stay. At least it’s dry. What we don’t foresee is that there will be trucks parked overnight that will have to be left idling, that there will be a disco opposite with loud music most of the night, that a couple of motorcycles and a moto-taxi will have to be parked inside the garage, which will then be picked up in the middle of the night. Or that the night watchman will be sleeping a few meters from us in the old car seat, and that we will wake up to a young guy sitting on a bench inside the garage listening to old American love pop songs at 6 in the morning. We didn’t sleep much, but it’s never boring at a gas station. 

The Gold Coast and Ghana's largest slave fort

In Ghana we stop in Cape Coast, where we visit the country's largest former slave fort. It is located on the coast, and this is where the slaves were traded, stored and sent on ships across the Atlantic. The fort started as a trading fort that traded in gold and ivory, but over time the slave trade became dominant. It was built by the Swedes, the Danes took over for a short period, then the Portuguese and Dutch joined in, and finally the fort came under British control in the 1660s. The fort became their headquarters on the Gold Coast, and it is after their takeover that the slave trade took off. We get a tour of the fort by a guide. We are the only white people in the otherwise large group of visitors, and it is hard not to feel a little uneasy. It is absolutely terrible how people have been treated here.

The guide is a fantastic communicator. She tells stories with empathy, drama and really turns up the emotional stories about the slave fort. Both in the way she presents the stories and how she involves the participants, for example, by having everyone go into a prison cell and the lights go out. Several of the others in the group are clearly affected, and they almost experience what the slaves went through. One woman in particular is very affected by it. At one point she goes up to Kenneth and looks him straight in the eye while asking: “How does it make you feel?” It’s a bit hard to get back to that, but Kenneth asks her what she means, and she pulls back a little.

The Danes also traded slaves in Ghana, but further east in the capital, Accra. Here they had control over the Christiansborg Fort, from where we sent an estimated 100,000 slaves to the sugar cane plantations in the Danish West Indies, until Denmark sold its colonies in the Caribbean in 1850. Today the fort is called Osu Castle and served as the presidential palace until 2013. In Accra we met a team from DR, who are making a documentary series about this dark period in Danish history. It is a period that we don't hear much about, so we are very excited to watch the documentary series and learn more.

We think it is important to know the history of the countries we travel to, and in this case it is really interesting to have a guide to tell it. There are many ways that countries process their trauma. In Germany and Europe it is information, so that we ensure that World War II hopefully never happens again. In Colombia we experienced that the past is hidden away to focus on the future, but here it seems that the past is emotionally cultivated to process it. There is no right or wrong, but it is exciting to experience how different cultures work.

Accra – visit to the Danish embassy

After a few hectic days on the main road with our hearts in our throats, we reach the capital Accra. We have cycled into many capitals and huge cities over the years, but the road into Accra takes its toll. We are driven off the road several times. There is a different temperament here. More aggressive and selfish. People also drive fast in other countries, but there seems to be something more at stake here. Kenneth suggests that it is because 99% of the drivers are young men. There are no older people or women behind the wheel, and we can almost feel the young men's experience of being immortal. Because they certainly don't do it on purpose.

At one point, Marie is run off the road by a truck, while the driver's friend hangs out the window with a big smile and waves. He is rather disappointed when Marie shouts at him instead of smiling back.

In Accra we decide to contact Anne Marie at the Danish embassy, whom we were in dialogue with when Marie's bag was stolen in Monrovia. It will be fantastic to meet her and visit the Danish embassy and hear more about their work in Ghana. We are invited for coffee and croissants at the embassy the next day at 10 am. When we turn the corner and see the Danish flag waving in the wind, and the Danish sign on the embassy door, our hearts are warm. And when we sit down in Danish design and pour coffee into the cup from a Stelton jug, we almost feel at home. We have an interesting talk about Ghana and its future. How the economic crisis affects the fact that international companies do not want to invest in the country, which starts a downward spiral. How China has no problem giving gifts to high-ranking politicians, while this is not a practice that Europe works with. When China builds roads, they bring everything from China – employees, machines, food, barracks, etc., and when they go home, they take everything with them. Here, Europe's approach is to use as much from the country as possible – materials, labor and leave the machines standing so that there is something to work with later. On the other hand, the Chinese are lightning fast, and this is appreciated by some higher ups – at least until an election where votes have to be split. We also learn how public employees earn a salary that makes it difficult for them to support their families, and that is why it is so difficult to break corruption at all levels. Once again, we are confirmed that it is not clear what is right and wrong.

Reunion kiss at the airport

We cycle through Ivory Coast and to Ghana on the straight country road, with only a single detour in Ghana on a bit of singletrack and a nice gravel road along the coast, where we feel in familiar surroundings. The straight country road is a contrast to the way we usually cycle, where we put experiences first and see where they take us. Preferably on the small roads, where the big tires come into their own.

We think that the experiences are fewer in Ivory Coast and Ghana, but we are also very aware that it has to do with our chosen route, and our own attitude. We were on target to reach Accra in time for Marie to fly home to celebrate her niece's confirmation. And we must admit that the best experiences for us are far from the main road, and when we take the time to reflect.

For a while, Marie is at home in Denmark while Kenneth continues cycling, so that we can keep to the overall schedule. But we will meet again soon and continue the adventure together to South Africa.