Our streak of smooth border crossings finally came to an end yesterday. After weeks of defying expectations and cruising through immigration checkpoints, Ghana decided to remind us that overlanding isn’t always about luck—it’s primarily about patience.
The culprit? A visa date mix-up. One of our group’s visas had an expiry date of December 31, and, of course, we rolled up to the border on January 1. The officials were sympathetic but firm—rules are rules, even when the error is clearly a technicality.
Cue hours of negotiations, plans, and waiting. The officials tried to issue an emergency visa, but the station chief—the only one with the authority to approve it—was MIA, apparently due to “festivities” which sounds suspiciously like nursing a New Year’s hangover. It took several hours to track him down, retrieve the key, and finally get the visa issued.
By the time we hit the road again, it was 6 p.m., and night was closing in fast. Paul, ever the wizard, pulled off another miracle camp find—a quiet field tucked away from the road. As far as last-minute bush camps go, it was a solid win.
We raced the fading light to get our tents up, and dinner was whipped together quickly. With nothing left to do but relax under the stars, I took full advantage of the early night. I must have passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow because I woke up feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the next stretch of the journey.
Honestly, there’s just something about bush camps that I love. They feel real. The simplicity, the quiet, and the sense of being completely off the grid—it’s unbeatable.
Now we’re officially in Ghana, ready for new adventures and hopefully no more visa surprises. But if we do run into more hiccups, I’ll take another night in a peaceful field any day!
No comments:
Post a Comment