Accra month by month — at a glance

IdealShoulderAvoid

Hover each month for the summary. Click to pin it.

Jan
Feb
Mar
Apr
May
Jun
Jul
Aug
Sep
Oct
Nov
Dec

01 Two rains and a gap

Key moments at a glance

NovThe brightest

245 hours of sun and 37.2 mm over fewer than three rain days.

JanThe driest

11.8 mm over 0.8 rain days: practically a month without water.

AugDry but grey

21.0 mm and 28.4 °C, the coolest month, with only 147 hours of sun.

JunOne hundred and ninety

189.6 mm over 10.2 days and sunshine near its annual low.

The full series shows the two humps clearly. January 11.8; February 25.5; March 61.1; April 87.8; May 151.4; June 189.6; July 63.0; August 21.0; September 42.9; October 80.0; November 37.2; December 27.2. The annual total is around 799 millimetres over barely 54 rain days.

Temperature, meanwhile, barely takes part. The mean high runs from 28.4 degrees in August to 33.0 in February and March, and the low moves between 22.9 and 25.4. Five degrees of annual range above and two and a half below: there are no cold or hot months here, there are months with water and months without.

02 The August parenthesis

The mid-year gap is the most counter-intuitive thing on the calendar. After June's peak, the rain collapses: 63.0 millimetres in July and 21.0 in August, less than in February. On paper, August looks like an excellent month to travel.

August is the second driest month of the year and, at the same time, the one with the least sun. Here, not raining and being fine are two different things.

On the ground it is another matter. July and August are the two months with the fewest hours of sunshine on the calendar — 150.8 and 146.8 — and also the coolest, with mean highs of 28.6 and 28.4 degrees. It is a dry but overcast period: low cloud, flat light and a grey sea for weeks.

An urban scene under a completely covered sky: the upper half of the frame is a dense mass of grey and dark cloud without a single break of blue, leaving the rest of the image in shadow; in the middle ground rise several seven- and eight-storey apartment blocks with pale façades, one still under construction and wrapped in green mesh, with lattice electricity pylons on the left; in the foreground, two large lit billboards, a tall street light, a plot of churned red earth with grass and scattered rubbish, and a stretch of block-paved pavement.
A closed sky over the city. At 147 hours of sunshine, August has this light for weeks even though barely 21 millimetres of rain fall.Adoscam / Wikimedia Commons / CC0·CC0

03 A coast that ought to be rainforest

There is a background fact that explains all of the above and changes how you look at the landscape. Accra receives around 720 millimetres of rain a year: less than half what is needed to sustain tropical rainforest, which is what a coast six degrees from the equator ought to have.

The city sits at the centre of a known anomaly: a savanna corridor that interrupts West Africa's forest belt and separates the Upper Guinean forests, to the west, from the Lower Guinean ones, to the east. The causes are oceanic and atmospheric, and among them weighs a tongue of cold water that surfaces off this coast.

For the traveller this has one very concrete consequence: what surrounds Accra is not jungle, it is dry grass and scattered trees. Anyone arriving expecting the humid tropics of the photographs will have to head inland, where the forest does begin. The coast is something else, and that is exactly why it rains so little here.

The city seen from height, the edges of the frame thrown out of focus: in the foreground, a patch of red earth used as a football pitch, with goals and several small figures playing; to its left, a tarmac street with taxis and minibuses parked and a low building painted yellow and blue; behind stretches a continuous, very dense fabric of single-storey houses with rusted corrugated-iron roofs, with barely a gap or a tree, reaching the horizon and dissolving into a white haze in which a few distant towers can just be made out.
Dry red earth and very few trees, on a coast six degrees from the equator. At 799 millimetres a year, this is the vegetation there is.Mike Norton / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY 2.0·CC BY 2.0
An urban motorway of three lanes each way photographed from inside a moving car, the edge of the bonnet showing at the bottom: the dark, freshly marked tarmac runs straight into the distance, where a few vehicles and several five- or six-storey office buildings can be made out; on the left, a tall metal fence covered in climbing vegetation separates the roadway from a green bank, and on the right a row of dense-crowned trees, palms and curved street lights; the sky fills the upper half of the frame and is a clean, deep blue, with only a few faint ribbons of white cloud near the horizon.
Open sky over a city avenue. This clean blue belongs to the November-to-February block, not to August's dry gap.Alexandre Ultré / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 3.0·CC BY-SA 3.0

04 Which month to pick

The good block runs from November to February, and November is the best of all: 37.2 millimetres over fewer than three rain days and 244.9 hours of sunshine, the year's peak. December and January follow closely, at 27.2 and 11.8 millimetres. It is the only part of the calendar where little rain and plenty of light coincide.

October deserves a separate mention. It brings 80.0 millimetres, more than November, but 237.6 hours of sunshine: the short season's rain falls concentrated and then clears. For anyone who does not mind getting wet one afternoon, it is a month with very good light and fewer people.

May to July is when to think twice: 151, 190 and 63 millimetres with sunshine falling to 151 hours. And August is the calendar's trap: dry on paper, grey on the ground. If you travel then, count on overcast skies almost daily and not on the beaches of the photographs.

Rate this article

Your vote helps prioritize what we edit next.

No votes yet
AL

Ana Larrea

When To Go editor · Flowtravel

Ana reads calendars and climate records before she reads guidebooks.