As usual the sounds of people going about their business started shortly after five and so we were up and about early. After a breakfast of bananas and bread picked up in a roadside stall the previous evening we left Bertrams heading towards the Tro Tro Station, with the tickets brought we boarded the next trotro which was more of a minibus really, meaning that they could squeeze more people in it. In the case of this bus this meant fourty people and each of those had at least 1 fifty Kilo bag of yams, coconuts, and various other horticultural delicacies. These were stacked under a cargo net on a full length roof-rack. We made two mistakes on this bus. Number one, we decided to sit at the back and it wasn't until it was too late and we could not change our minds, that we realised that the back row of seats was actually the parcel shelf and we had even less leg room than the other seats on the bus. Mistake number two was that we got on the bus too soon and had to wait nearly two hours for the bus to fill up and for all the veg and so on to be securely stacked on the roof, so cramps and stiffness had already set in by the time we set off towards Adawso, the ferry port for the first part of Lake Volta we planned to cross. The ride has to qualify as the most uncomfortable journey we have ever made, numb bums, knees locking, and wind from the nonexistent side window. I had an arm round Mandy for most of the trip. Partly because there was nowhere else to put it, and partly because I was worried she might bounce out of the window as she was perched right on the sill. I think this trip took about two hours, we finally got to the port, where we waited for the huge lorries of yams from the Afram Plains to disembark. Shortly we got onto the ferry, which was more of a lorry carrying barge with a separate tug providing the power. There were about sixty spaces for passengers, on either side of the main cargo deck but Mandy said she felt safe enough. The crossing took about another hour or so, then on the other side we caught another Tro Tro to Donkorkrom where we found St Michaels Hotel, another little gem from our guide book. This was a nice little place, although a little run down. I suppose you would call it a commercial hotel in Britain. There was a team of engineers staying there who were in the area to drill a borehole for the local community, they had a drilling rig and a lorry loaded with the iron threaded pipes which would eventually bring the water to the surface. The lorry parked inside the hotel compound for the night as I suppose they were concerned about theft. We had to report that our door would not lock, so the very pleasant manager, Michael, arranged to get the carpenter to come fix it. We went for a wander round the area and agreed with the catering lady what we wanted for dinner, and three hours later, after a drink in the Summer House our room was safe and secure and ready for us to go and have a shower. Only then did we realise that Michael had sat in our room the whole time the carpenter had been there, guarding our rucksacks for us. We had Ghanaian talapia and beef soup with Fu Fu for dinner, which reminded Mandy of playdoh and again shortly after dark it was early to bed.