Right, I know that all you were now expecting a few blogs about my first impressions of Tumu, the state of my house, Independence day etc but for the last week I have been motorcycle training and it was so great and I am now the proud owner of a Blue, two stroke (still not too sure the difference between 2 stroke and 4 stroke except my bike has another set fluid to remember to fill) DT 125 Yamaha. I promise that I will get to all the Tumu stuff (it has been brilliant and lots of fun stories to tell) but thought I would go slightly out of sequence as was going to post all the pictures of my adventures over the week on the blog anyway.

So after our rather interesting journey to Bolga, I was finally ready for motorcycle training! As promised (Capt was very strict about safety gear! And quite right too!) I found myself with three other volunteers, in 34 degree heat, in jeans; boots; gloves; a jacket and a fetching helmet standing in the local practice field getting ready for bike training.

There are a few differences between Ghanaian bike training and British bike training. First off, instead of a car park/open space to practice in, in Ghana you use the local football pitch/ marching arena/ walk way/bicycle path/motorbike path/playground/covered social gathering area/sandpit all rolled into one. There are advantages to this, (a range of different extreme terrains so you get good at avoiding rocks, riding over potholes, avoiding goal posts and getting a bit of practice on sand, not to mention every time you stalled and could not find neutral a helpful 8 year old would run over, magically fiddle with your peddles and then explain exactly where you went wrong and then all his friends would shout encouragement and laugh at you as you stuttered off).

The obvious downside was that you were much more likely to take someone out, crash, collapse from heat exhaustion or collide with a tree. Despite these slight speed bumps we made it through the morning with no accidents and we were commended for our skills. That was not to last.....

After lunch we got a bit cocky and this lead to us regressing back to before we got on a bike. Sarah, 12 seconds after being commended for her quality control, revved too hard and crashed into Pegi, Emma who was determined to get sand riding down took a massive tumble and I, trying to do a figure of 8 while following another volunteer and while standing up, went over sideways after hitting a rock at 4 km/h and snapping off my clutch. This lead to Buba shaking his head and saying how disappointed he was in us!

With no broken bones or serious injuries we left the field slightly battered and bruised but in very good spirits!

The next two days we spent exploring different terrain. We practiced on sand (Emma off again), going up hills (stay in first gear, gun it and hope for the best) and town riding (AAAGGHHHHHHHH! I'm sandwiched between a tro with a wheel falling off and a helmetless man with a donkey attached to his bike and just ran a red light!). Despite this we only had one major accident which although I stayed on my bike, seemed to have been instrumental in! After the first day Pegi was asking why she kept on stalling. I, feeling very important with my knowledge sharing, told her to give it a bit more gas when you wanted to go. Unfortunately, the following day at Bolgas biggest junction, when the light turned green, a series of events unfolded that ended with a bit of a pile up. Emma stalled, I was too close so had to do a quick emergency stop, Pegi followed my advice to the letter making her shoot off, this lead to her colliding with my bike (I was oblivious to this so just sped off!), the bike toppled onto of Pegi and she was stuck, Sarah tried to help but couldn't find natural and Buba finally came to the rescue after the chaos had ensured. When dissected this later the blame seemed to be steered towards me (although as I was quick to point out, 'at least she didn't stall again!').

During the week I was staying with a Kenyan called Bernard. Bernard was amazing! Already I have started implementing some of his habits and daily routines into my day-to-day life in Tumu. He is a walking/wondering enthusiast! Each evening we would go for a wonder around the local area and stop for a mineral in the local spot. He also taught me how to cook on a gas stove. No longer will I stare aimlessly at a pile of hunks of chicken! Chuck them in a pot, add some seasoning, put on a lid and its go time! At this rate I will be Michelin starred by the time I leave.

I am going to leave this blog here as we are again approaching the 1000 word mark! The next one will include model photo shoots (Ghanaian style!), wrestling crocs, my first VSO party and my first experience of public transport in the North.

Homework: Think of a suitable name for my new motorbike. So far naming of cars in the Heale household have gone like this: First car was called Nelson, after Mandela due to it being a freedom car with free Tibet stickers all over it and it being black. Second car was called Rufus (I can't remember why!) and the third car was called Jessica after Jessica Rabbit (because it was red!).

So there is definitely a colour theme going on here. My new motorbike is blue. So far my only ideas are naming it after a smurf or a character from avatar! I dare you to do better!