TDI: 1-2 What's this?
Friday evening
I was on my way to the town of Kpalime from the Ghana border. A curvy hill road was cutting through a beautiful rainforest. Stunning views and several waterfalls along the road were welcoming me to this country. Exciting…
![the street in Kpalime, Togo, with landscape in the background](https://i0.wp.com/www.somenomadstories.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/kpalime-togo.jpg?resize=640%2C440&ssl=1)
Once I arrived, I got dropped off at the big junction. In front of me, there was a guest house that looked affordable. $15 for the room. There’s gotta be better deals around here. I approached a motor taxi and asked him if he knows an accommodation for around $8. He nodded and made some room for me at the back of the seat. He drove me to the very end of the town, 5 km from the junction. Thus, there were fewer houses and more farmlands. Once, he stopped, he pointed at the house in front of us. It looked solid (for my standards). The price was $5. The distance had to be taken into account… The ride cost me $1. Let’s say I’ll go to the town twice a day maximum… So, with transport expenses, the total is still less than $10. Deal!
The town didn’t seem that interesting. I guessed it’s all about nature just outside of it. Later, while walking around, I ran across some backpackers. What? What were they doing here? Before my arrival in Togo, I have been to Ghana, Burkina Faso, Mali, Cote Ivoire, Liberia, Sierra Leone, and Guinea. In only 2 days in Kpalime, I ended up seeing more backpackers here, than during 2 months traveling all other countries combined! Is Togo gonna be the next Kenya? Time will tell.
After an hour and a half of walking, I decided to sit somewhere and get a beer. It was getting dark. I passed by the same junction, where I got dropped off. Now, the atmosphere was substantially different, than a few hours ago. A lot more people. I checked the date on my phone. Ah, I know what this is about… It’s Friday evening!
The very wide sidewalk was completely filled with plastic tables and chairs. Most of them were occupied by smiley locals. Roughly In the middle of the tables, there was a DJ playing local music. By the road, where noisy cars were passing by, the youngsters were hanging out. This is definitely where the action is. I gotta have a beer here.
While sipping, I observed my surroundings. The music was very fun and so was the atmosphere. People drinking, enjoying themselves, some of them dancing. There is a unique routine of serving beer in most parts of Africa: The waiters would normally lay down the bottles on the tray, so they don’t tip them over while walking to the table. Then, they would open the bottles once they arrived. Unless they forget. That’s when the lighter comes in handy! I saw the same routine in Ghana as well. Furthermore, I’ve noticed a new tactic… A waitress was carrying a case of beer. She pulled out about 10 large bottles and set them on a table for thirsty guests. I guessed that was a ‘plan B’ when the number of beers ordered doesn’t fit on a tray.
Next to the tables, right by the road… that’s where the action really was. Actually, both sides of the road were completely packed with kids of ages anywhere between 9 and 17. They were dancing, laughing, and having a true blast… In fact, just like in a nightclub! Many of them were dressed festively. Sunglasses, shiny shoes, exotic T-shirts… I saw some Muslim girls dressed traditionally, yet super colorful. It was probably a Friday night version of their traditional attire. Some of the kids actually looked like pro dancers. On both sides of the road, most of the kids were facing across. As a result, they were facing each other…It looked like a movie scene!
I truly enjoyed the show. As time was passing by, the junction was getting busier and busier. Thus, there were no more empty chairs around me. The young crowd has spontaneously expanded towards the middle of the road. That was the only possible direction to expand. Hence, the portion of the road available for driving was twice narrower, than during the day. There was still a lot of traffic going on. The cars were flying by at their ordinary speed while honking. From my sitting point of view, I thought some of the kids dancing would get hit. The most creative and skillful dancers were in the front row, risking their lives, in order to be noticed. People around me sitting and drinking did not pay any attention to the show. I guessed it was just another Friday evening.
What do people normally think about Togo? Poverty, disease, depression… What I witnessed that evening seemed completely opposite. I am not arguing poverty and disease doesn’t exist, but apparently, there’s also plenty of joy hidden under the surface.
![Small red houses village in the middle of a lush hill near Kpalime, Togo](https://i0.wp.com/www.somenomadstories.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/hill-village-togo.jpg?resize=640%2C518&ssl=1)
If you would like to see some more photos from West African countries filled with tropical rainforests, then I would recommend checking out my Sierra Leone post.
Mugged?
I arrived in Lome, the capital of Togo, around 5 pm and immediately went out exploring, before it got late. Not only because of safety, but streets seem more interesting during the day. More stuff to notice. I looked at the map. The city beach is 2 km away. If I go there I’ll pass through the city center and the street market. Perfect!
The market was surprisingly unusual. The ground was covered with black sand. As a result, it looked quite psychedelic. I kept walking. Reached the ocean drive…. Wow! There are thousands of people on the beach! I crossed the street in order to join them.
It seemed like nothing was really happening. No event going on, no loud music… Just a lot of people everywhere. I couldn’t even see the end of the crowd! They weren’t sitting, laying on the sand, playing with a ball, like on ordinary beaches. They were just there hanging out, either standing or walking slowly. There wasn’t really enough room to sit anyway. If I did, I’d get run over.
I checked the date on my phone. It was Sunday. Ah, that makes sense. Sunday afternoon is typically reserved for families spending time together in some nice location like a park or a beach. That routine is very common pretty much everywhere in the world. Except in some Muslim countries.
But here, it was too crowded to do anything. It was the first time for me in Africa that I saw a lot of people chilling, without any music or dancing… not even a barbecue going on. I have decided to get out of the beach before the night falls.
So, I started working my way back to the road, crossed it, and entered a street that goes in the direction of my guesthouse. I left the beach, but I didn’t leave the crowd. The street was even more packed! It was getting dark. At this time everybody was leaving the beach, so all the streets next to it were packed. Cars and motorcycles passing by were impatiently honking, trying to cut through.
At one point, while walking, I felt a hand touching my right shoulder and immediately turned my head. A short middle-aged man was staring at me and shaking my shoulder… He didn’t look like he was threatening me. More like he was crazy, I thought. Then I noticed somebody touching my left upper thigh. My pocket!
“Nooo!” I screamed loudly, pushed both of them and ran toward the middle of the road, where cars were stuck in traffic. Then, I checked if my phone was still in my pocket. Luckily it was. On the other side of the road, I saw a security guy guarding a building behind him. I immediately crossed the road and stood next to him. This should be a safe place to stay for the moment, while I make a plan.
Now I had a chance to see if anything else was gone from my pockets. I kept my right hand in the right pocket, holding onto my phone while browsing through the other pockets with my left hand. It didn’t really matter, cause other than the phone, I had nothing else valuable: a few bucks, a piece of paper with some notes, gums, hand hand sanitizer… Good! Nothing was missing. I looked across the street. Those guys were probably gone by now.
The security guy was looking at me perfectly calm. ‘What did you expect?’, he was probably thinking. Pickpocketing is a very common activity in most parts of the world. This street on this particular occasion was a perfect playground for it. They do it to locals all the time, I thought. I noticed a motor taxi was passing by in front of me. I waved at him, in order to get the ride. The guesthouse was only 15-20 minutes away. Normally I wouldn’t get a ride for such a short walk, but this time around, I thought it was appropriate. I sat on the motorcycle with my hand still in the right pocket, holding onto my phone. In fact, I kept holding it during the ride.
Once I finished my journey in West Africa, I went to the sewing shop with two pairs of my hiking pants. I had the sewer put zippers over the pockets. Now they look like real traveling pants!
![Tiny houses hidden in the green hills near Kpalime, Togo](https://i0.wp.com/www.somenomadstories.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/hidden-tiny-houses-togo.jpg?resize=640%2C542&ssl=1)
I’ve learned a lot about safety from my experiences. Check out my Travel Safety Tips post.
Wanna read more about Togo? I would recommend checking out the blog of my dear traveling friend Guilherme Canever. Since he is Brazilian, writing for the local audience, make sure you use a translator tool in your browser (unless you’re fluent in Portuguese).