In the morning Manuel felt really sick. After getting the final stamp, we passed the border and he lay down sleeping. The street to Accra was running through countless small villages, and it took us almost the whole day.
Accra is a fast growing city with about 2 million inhabitants. It looks like an American or European metropolis in its center: huge, modern architecture, theatres, parks. Everything looks nice and clean, almost no trash.
We asked a taxi driver to guide us to a hostel we found in the “Lonely Planet”, but the taxi driver did not know it and brought us to another place, but it was dirty and humid. Manuel had fever and refused.
At the internet café nearby we found a hostel run by the Methodist Church nearby. A taxi driver brought us there, but there was loud gospel music and we were supposed to put the truck out of the yard at 6 o´clock in the morning, because next day was Sunday.
We decided to eat first, then started to look for a place again. At a restaurant on the beach we asked an American tourist for reasonably priced accommodation, and he sent us to a “Rasta”-place. Manuel started hallucinating.
The “Rasta”-place was a posh tourist resort, somebody sent us further along the beach. At the end we found an expensive, posh Chinese hotel in the middle of the Favelas. Manuel got a room with air condition and felt better immediately. We spent the evening talking to the people around.
The sea we saw so far was all littered with these low-quality black plastic bags, which break at first use. I decided to start collecting this bags.
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