The day was mainly about getting from A to B, but this was an experience on its own.
After collecting our passports with extended visa we were on our way to a station were we could take a bus towards Kpalime. On the way we asked our driver what was his favourite Togolese dish. And he without hesitation said “fufu”. So we asked him to stop at an eatery by the road to have a try. Fufu is a pounded yam that looks like a very sticky mashed potatoes. It is served with a meat stew of your choice: chicken, goat, beef.
We ordered goat and a beef and it was plain that we are expected to eat with our hands. This was an awkward moment … how can you possibly go about eating mashed potato with very liquid meany stew with your hands?? our driver saved the situation and asked for forks. So it worked.
It was quite testy and very filling. But we couldn’t finish our portions, so Seb offered the remaining food to a hunrgy looking guy passing by, the guy sat down next to us and finished the massive portion in no time … with his hands..
Process of preparation of Fufu is also very cool.
Next we took a shared taxi from Lome to Kpalime which is about 1.5 hours drive, but! The guy will not move until he has a full car, sedan car. and Full means 4 people behind and 2 passengers infront. We started our way with just 2 of us in the car. All the way out of Lome the driver was signaling and shouting our destination to the people on the side road. By the time we exited the city we had 6 passengers.
The further north west in the country you move the more green and jungly it becomes. Kpalime has a cheerful feeling to it and it is hugged by the mountains from 2 sides.
Right now we are sat in a garden of our guest house Vakpo in Kpalime. It is on the very edge of the town, lost in a maze of dirt streets, where you wouldn’t believe you could have a hotel. We are the only guests here. The magic of twilight really plays tricks with me – it is such a middle time, i can’t help feeling mysticism in everything. The town is at the foot of a mountain and right now, when we sit in this garden, above us there are hundreds and hundreds of bets flying over in complete silence, descending from the mountain onto the town valley. First i thought they were birds size of a seagull, that’s how big they are. At this hour when the sun went down and the light is greying out, the bets are descending from the mountain. Or the other way around.. the bets cover the light with their wings and bring the night.
