Kumasi, Ghana

Cities are exhausting. While I’ve been enjoying my time so far, it’s been admittedly stressful. Walking out onto the street is an assault on all the senses — honking, pollution, traffic, cars with an index finger’s worth of space between each other and having to walk between them, dodging people, dodging men and women carrying things on their heads, heat, haze… I return to my room every night blowing black soot out of my nose. And when I arrived into Kumasi, I was swindled by a taxi driver and dropped off at a hostel that no longer existed — a pretty dismal start that made the stresses of the city worse. But then stuff just happens that kinda erases that from my mind.

Wandering for half an hour trying to find another hostel, I asked some souvenir stall owners for some directions. Kwadjo took me straight to a nice hostel, and offered to take me around town.

Why? I’m not sure. But he left his stall for two days.
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