From the "and away we don't go" dept.

It was nearly midnight Friday by the time I finished checking my email and filing to Roadspill.

Upon returning to my room, I decided to indulge in the luxury of a cold shower (are there any other kind?). Pulling back the shower curtain revealed a truly horrible sight: a pail of water hiding in the stall. I summoned up my courage, stepped over the pail, and reached for the tap. I held my breath. The pipes issued a painful squeal and then, miraculously, a trickle of water. There wasn't much pressure, but at least there was water. Phew!

After toweling off, but before I began sweating again, I surfed through the two working channels on my TV. Not that it mattered -- the TV was mounted so high on the wall that the only clear sight line was achieved by standing in the far corner of the room, my arse half out the window. My apologies to Greater Accra for that.

Within moments I was ready for sleep. The ceiling fan worked its magic, cooling the air temperature to broil. Clad in a t-shirt and encased in a poorly hung mosquito net, I prepared for 5 hours of delicious eyelid theatre.

I slowly eased into dreamland as, somewhere down the hall, a TV preacher blared. A lullaby of Satan, fear and requests for more donations of loot. I was tempted to call in and pledge a goat or empty bottle of Star beer.

Speaking of religion: I'm a little ticked at the Christian missionaries these days. We have a church near our home in Takoradi that shows recordings of big time preachers on a massive screen in their parking lot. Several nights a week the pounding voices of American preachers fill the night air. Worse, they own a generator for nights when there are power cuts. It is beyond loud and impossible to escape. They certainly haven't won me or my heathen neighbours over. A pox on them!

And then...

My alarm went off at the rude hour of 5 a.m. The organizers of the Freedom Flame had told us to be ready for 6:30 and I wanted to make sure I had time for another shower and hopefully some breakfast.

The alarm went off again at 5:15. I was determined to get up and get going.

The phone rang at 5:30. It was Asamoah wondering if I was up yet.

At 5:31 I discovered why there was a bucket of water in my shower stall: no water! After a disappointing splash-splash-splash-sploosh shower, I was set for another day of adventure and fun.

I went next door around 6 to chat with Asamoah and to call the organizers of the Flame. We were informed that we would not be leaving at 6:30 as per the original plan but probably closer to noon. Ah, Africa time!

On the surface, this was good news. More time to relax. Perhaps sleep a bit more. And, if the water returned, maybe have a real shower.

I noticed Asamoah had an iron. I borrowed it with the thought of trying to coax some of the wrinkles out of my shirts. Most of the time ironing is not really required because the combination of heat, humidity and sweat tend to magically, if aromatically, chase wrinkles away. But I have one shirt that looks more like a relief map of the Rocky Mountains.

There was no ironing board in the room, but I've learned to make due with what is at hand. In this case, my bed. I filled the iron with water, plugged it in, and discovered too late that this was a bad idea.

It turns out that the moment the iron touches fabric, it releases its entire reservoir of water. My dry, wrinkly shirt was now a wet, wrinkly shirt. Worse, my bed now had a large and embarrassing wet spot in the middle. How to explain that?

Testing 1-2-3

I wanted to give my gear a quick check to see if it was working. The video camera was fully charged and appeared to record and playback fine. Excellent.

My D70 SLR (aka The Good Camera) was still in one piece. I pointed it at the bed for a "places I have slept" shot, but a moment after the shutter released, the camera locked up and returned an error message on the digital readout.

Good thing I left the manual back in Canada to save weight!

I switched it off, pressed the shutter release again and the mirror inside was released. I tried again and again and again. Same thing every time. The shutter would release but the mirror would jam.

It wasn't until I swapped lenses that I noticed that the lens would not lock in place. Then the camera suddenly appeared to be functioning normally. After trying a third lens I discovered that this was the problem -- I had to ensure the lens was rotated to the correct position on the camera body. It was likely a contact issue.

Still, I wondered why the lens would not lock in place. Upon closer examination I discovered that a little pin on the camera, one that is instrumental in making all this technology work, was stuck. I gently poked at it until popped out.

I attached a lens and it locked. I pointed the camera at the wall and took a shot. It worked. I looked at the image in playback mode and it seemed crisp and properly exposed. I tried to recreate the problem, but was unable to.

I'm not sure what caused the pin to jam, but I'll be very careful with the camera over the next few weeks. I plan to supplement the video we shoot of the Flame with still images and it would have been a real disappointment if the good camera packs it in. Especially since I no longer have my point-and-shoot camera as a back up.

It's now 8 a.m. and we've just had a call that we'll picked up at 9 a.m. We'll see!

Cheers!