Well it had to happen, didn't it? There was no way that I could travel to Africa and not pop into the Central Fire Station. The pump was positioned outside of the main doors resting on the forecourt just like in the UK. The officers wore the traditional Fire Service rank markings and are referred to as Divisional Officer Grade III, Divisional Officer Grade II and Senior Divisional Officer. They also wear red lanyards or a black shoulder cover on one side. Unlike the choir who wear yellow polo shirts. Yes, you heard it here. The Ghanaian Fire Service have a uniformed choir, all of whom were sat in the appliance room awaiting their next activity. We were treated well by our hosts and I chatted at length with their Control Room ladies, well you have to, don't you? It would have been unpolite not to have given them some attention. My African minder had become a dab hand with my Sony phone camera and was snapping everyone like David Bailey. I am going to enjoy getting these shots developed back in the UK. I carry two cameras, both of which are connected to my belt to avoid losing them in the crowd. You cannot afford to travel from one Continent to another and risk losing your only set of pics. The Control staff challenge suspected false alarm malicious calls. Whereas the firemen, shirk off the heat and use the larger 75mm diameter hose to fight their fires. Language was not a barrier as all of the officers spoke excellent English. So much so that Cudjo, Mrs 'G' and I joined them in the Officer's Mess. Well it was 0930 and the sun was blazing again. One cool drink later we bid our farewells, thanked them for their hospitality and set off again through the Human Traffic.
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