ethiopia: journal

gallabat to gonder - 30th august

crossing the border and driving to gonder, three things were striking; the weather, the landscape, and the people. it was actually cold. cold and wet, unbelievable, just a day's drive from sweltering khartoum. accordingly, the land dazzled us with a variety of greens from bright lime to dark pine. patchwork valleys opened out below forested peaks. beside the road the carpet of vegetation was torn, revealing a slice of the soft red earth below.

there were people everywhere. they lined the road continuously, despite the sparcity of the villages. the men wore blankets wrapped around their shoulders. their legs were bare - an unusual sight after so long in the conservative middle east. they carried staffs, resting horizontally across their shoulders; their arms hooked over either end. it was strange to see all those walking crucifixions as we entered the land of ancient christianity.

the people smiled and waved, and we reciprocated. i think we grinned for the whole 3 hours it took to get to gonder. sliding the land rover along the muddy track that wound up through the hills, we were glad to be in a new country, particularly one so strikingly different. it's also fair to say that after the absolute prohibition in sudan, we were looking forward to a beer.

 
typical north ethiopian houses

arriving in gonder was our first experience of the legendary ethiopian "hassle". as we searched for a guesthouse, stopping, or even slowing down, prompted the advance of local youngsters aged from 5 to 15. "where you go? where you go?". everyone wanted to show us the way somewhere, a hotel, a restaurant, a shop. wherever we went or wanted to go, it was necessary for someone to "show" us - regardless of whether we knew the way or not. this was, of course, followed by a demand for a tip. we had been warned, but the constant attention was quickly irritating. through a strange blend of being shown the way, whilst trying not to be shown the way, we found a restaurant and had that beer, or three.

  
royal enclosure, gonder 

the next day we visited the castles of the royal enclosure in gonder. we enjoyed clambering through the 17th century fortifications as much as the tranquility provided by the high walled grounds - though one of the gardeners did stop his work for a spot of persistent begging.

the evening was spent in the company of voluntary workers, medical students and physiotherapists who were all in gonder with the aim of helping others. we felt mildly guilty as we were there to help ourselves. after a 'sharing dish' of the national ethiopian food - injera (which has the texture of underlay but tastes surprisely good) - we sampled our first ethiopian bar and nightlife. we spent most of the evening chatting to a bloke from london - surprisingly, the first english traveller we'd met since leaving home. 

  
interior decor - debre birhan selassie church, gonder 

debark - 10th september (new years eve)

on route to debark we stopped in at the church of debre birhan selassie. after the cottagey, thatched exterior, i (who hadn't read the guide-book) was surprised by the colourful, cartoonish friezes covering every wall, and the ceiling too. we snapped away with the digital, not needing the flash with ISO set high and the shutter-speed low. someone's flash did fire though, prompting an alarmed gasp from the timid pilgrims who knelt at the alter in awe.

outside the church it was their turn to smirk as i inadvertantly stepped on an ants nest whilst trying to photograph an african harrier hawk. the ants made quick progress over and under my clothes, biting determindly. two even made it up to my arm pits. little bastards.

the road to debark took us up through more green hills, more smiles, more waves and more (very) hopefully, outstretched palms. traversing ridges and passes, we travelled through meadows with cows grazing amongst the wildflowers. with threatening rain clouds moving swiftly in the breeze, we were very much reminded of switzerland.

debark itself is a fairly uninviting town, stretched along the muddy main road. it is, however, the closest town to the simien mountains and it was for treking in those mountains that we were there. we particularly hoped to see the spectactularly hairy, red chested gelada baboons that are endemic to that area.

  
picturesque debark 

spending all afternoon and evening drinking ridiculously cheap and very tasty ethiopian lager is not the recommended way to prepare for climbing at altitudes of between 3 and 4 thousand metres, but that's what we did. by way of excuse, it was new year's eve in the gregorian calendar, which is still used in ethiopia - for them it is now 1997.

for new year the bar was full, but that didn't seem unusual. ethiopian music is lively, and the shoulder jerking dance that accompanies it is funny to watch and even funnier to try. the local conversation too entertained; uncomprehensible (to me) in amaraic, the intonation used in this area was falsely high and comic sounding. i couldn't help being reminded of sesame street - "hey burt", "hey ernie"...

the simien mountains - 11th september (new years day)

enough about the drinking though. the baboons were magnificent. as soon as we entered the national park, we came across a whole troop just beside the road. the youngsters skirmished and fell from the low trees whilst the big males postured, manes flowing in the breeze.

  
male gelada baboon, simiens 

later in the day we passed some more. higher up, and within the clouds, they were revealed fleetingly through the swirling mists. dotting the hillside, they squatted, picking the grass. the tearing of roots was audible through the fog, even when it obscured them from sight.

hiking upwards through the steep terrain, the narrow path wove upwards through the afro-alpine climate. passing waterfalls and crossing streams, we were eventually through the clouds. our guide in front, friendly and knowledgeable; and our ranger behind, with his antique binoculars and machine gun, and purple suit with the trousers tucked into his high army boots. somewhere further ahead, our two porters carried our heavier supplies, having failed to locate any mules.

we camped on a high plateau, spending the afternoon recovering from the climb and the altitude. we lay in the sun, glad of its heat in the cold mountain air. our faces were already red; the sun burns easily at altitude.

  
simien mountains 

our provisions were fairly light for a three day hike. it wasn't so much a weight concern - what with the porters and mules - as a failure to find much edible for sale in debark. our search of the handful of shops and dismal market yielded only 8 packs of 'fasting biscuits', which are a bit like the english 'rich tea' biscuits, but more like 'iced gems' without the ice. so other than that, it was just tuna and pasta from our by now diminished supplies.

with that in mind, when someone we knew from an overland truck group - also camped on the plateau - mentioned buying a sheep, we said we'd be in for a share. now when i say buy a sheep, i should clarify that at the time of purchase the potential feast was happily munching grass just a little way from the tents.

the selection process was more harrowing than i had anticipated. rational thinking of course dictates; i eat meat, this is where meat comes from, so face up to it or become vegetarian. but the reality of picking, for the sake of the tenderest meat, the youngest and cutest looking sheep and watching it carried off, nuzzling trustingly in its owners arms was more unsettling than i had expected. having said all that, once the sheep had become meat and the ravens had cleaned its entrails from the hillside, we remembered our hunger and were glad of a hearty meal and the freshest meat we'll ever eat.

the second day of hiking took us to one of the more accessible summits - at an altitude of just below 4,000 metres. we were treated to a spectacular view of the surrounding peaks and cliffs. walia ibex were visible in the distance and we were lucky enough to spot the rare simien fox. both species are endemic to the mountains.

axum to mekele - 13th september

the third day we made an early start. as we passed though the small isolated villages, farmers chased their unpenned livestock across the hillside, and the crack of whips echoed through the valleys. the descent was as exhausting as the ascent had been, and felt as though it was equally up hill. we shared out our remaining 'fasting biscuits', giving us the energy for the final stretch.

foot weary after our 3-day hike we left debark and drove to axum. we were not expecting the journey to be so beautiful. our guide had told us that the road was good, "built by the italians", however we found quite the opposite - it was the intermittent rock, gravel and mud roads that we were to become accustomed too. first we traversed a gorge, then climbed steadily before hitting a plateau. the plateau fooled us, it appeared that we had descended when in reality, at the edges, the earth dropped away into nothingness. it was a long drive but rewarding. as we veered close to the eritrean border, skeletons of trucks and shells of tanks lay rusting in the fields. 

  
war remnants, eritrean border 

axum is the most holy city of the ethiopian orthodox church and also the oldest town in the country, however, we decided to give the sites a miss and instead spent our time visting the limited number of banks trying to attain money from our credit card. it quickly became apparent that the banking staff had no concept of plastic money or electronic banking so we returned to the guesthouse to see if we could make it to addis ababa on our limited and rapidly diminshing funds. 

  
valleys and peaks, nr. axum 

we reckoned we could get to addis and visit lalibela on the way. it was a long, long drive through the eastern tigre and its mountains. having not appreciated properly the sites of axum we thought it necessarily to take in one of the rock-hewn churches that lay undiscovered until the 1960s. every few kilometres or so there would be a turn-off signposted to one of these chuches. we took one of these but once off the main road and onto the track we found it impossible to find. after driving through fields, clambering up a rocky incline in low range and finally arriving at an isolated farm house we asked directions from a women whose nose appeared to be falling off. suspecting leprosy we aborted our first attempt and decided to keep driving to a cluster of churches that were apparently more accessible than the others.

at takstisfi we took the services of a local guide - even with his directions it was hard work getting there (i don't think he had driven there before), the track was as daunting and as unlikely as our first attempt. the church could only be reached by a final climb by foot; passing a band of white robed pilgrims we knew we were on the right path, and after being overcharged by the priests we were finally allowed to enter.

the small door led through the whitewashed cliff facade. inside, another corridor and another door led through to a dark room with high ceilings, made cramped by the supporting stone pillars. a priest illuminated the ceiling for us with a small candle on a long pole. in the flickering light we could make out simple crosses carved into the rock ceiling. it at least made it more atmospheric that it would have been with a torch.

when we left, the priests demanded more money - which we didn't give them. a group of children who had been following us also wanted payment for finding the key to the church - even though they hadn't. they threatened to throw rocks at the land rover, but ran off quickly when we reversed towards them. the guide too wanted more money than agreed and all in all we decided not to visit any more churches until lalibela.

  
candlelight, medhane alem adi kasho church 

mekele - 14th september

we spent the night in the comparitively developed town of mekele. we treated ourselves to a pizza and watched the news on the restaurant's tv. we were concerned by scenes of violent rioting, fearing unjustifiably that they may be nearby. when it turned out the riots were in london, we laughed at our paranoia.

after another fruitless tour of the banks we had our, by now, regular breakfast of coffee and cake. outside of tourist hotels, it is about the only breakfast available but we weren't complaining. ethiopian coffee is - no matter where you get it - the best in the world. ethiopia "invented" coffee and this is reflected in both the quality and the price. the cakes aren't too bad either.

heading south towards lalibela, we once again wound slowly up through dramatic hills. the nice, big, red main road on the map was in actuality a single lane rutted mud track which wound slowly and, by now, tediously up and down round tight hairpin bends. the roadside was still as populous as when we had first entered ethiopia, and the smiles, waves, and demands for money were as prolific.

  
the main highway, nr mekele 

we turned off, on what looked like a shortcut to lalibela; encouraged by the first proper road sign we'd seen since entering the country. the road was very narrow and steep, though beautiful, isolated and exciting. after a while though, a grinding sound from somewhere under the land rover and a diminishing supply of fuel began to give us some real concern about the increasingly remote path.

upward and upward we climbed using the land rover's low range gearbox, usually in second or even first, slowly over the rocks and boulders. at one point the gps told us we were up around 4,000 metres, before we descended back into the valley again. we became increasingly concerned about how unused the road was. only one or two tracks preceeded us, we had seen no other traffic and when we passed through villages we caused such a scene that the children and even young adults worked themselves into a frenzy, mobbing the car - sometimes aggressively, throwing sticks and stones as we drove off to the calls of "brother, sister, where you go, where you go?".

by dusk we were worried about making it to lalibela, about fuel, nightfall and the villagers. our maps were inconsistent and unclear and the gps showed us to be well and truly in the middle of nowhere. thankfully, though, the land rover had stopped making unusual noises. when we did stop to ask passers-by if we were on the right road, they all nodded encouragingly. however, we were not too sure if they understood what we were staying.

we pressed on through the growing darkness, the mud covered headlights struggling to light the ruts sufficiently. an hour later we reached a tarmac road and shortly after we were amongst the lights of lalibela. we found a guest house and drunk three beers on the trot. it had taken us over five hours to cover less than ninety kilometres.

lalibela - 16th september

the day was spent visiting the famous rock-hewn churches - ethiopia's most popular tourist attraction. dating from the 12th century these churches are carved downwards into the rock. from the dusty, shack-lined streets they are almost impossible to see. we shunned the attention of the local guides and made our own way through the stone corridors and passageways. there were surprisingly few other tourists, making exploring fun. hermits crouched in tiny enclaves in the surrounding walls, bibles shielding their faces. white robed musicians drummed and chanted. the sound echoing though the dark stone passageways reminded us of scenes from indiana jones.

  
inside bet maryam church, lalibela 

lalibela itself is an isolated mountain town, and even with the tourist income there is extreme poverty. children are filthy, their clothes in tatters, and there are so many flies. one child that vied for our attention had a mass of flies crawling on the inside edge of his mouth. others had flies gathered on the unwiped mucus that ran from their noses. these were scenes more reminiscent from the ethiopia of tv appeals. a mineral water bottle without its contents can transform a child's face from a resentful, demanding scowl to a delighted, grateful grin. a few days later we saw an ad being run on the sheraton hotel's tv channel, asking for donations to help the needy. after having seen for ourselves the circumstances in which the majority of the ethiopian population appears to live, we could see that the people featuring in this advert had to some extent been beautified for the cause.

  
cruciform beta giorgis church, lalibela 

nearly at addis - 19th september

our route south to addis was another long drive. the road was better than many we had been on recently, but was still swarming with people, donkeys, goats and dogs. doves too were a new obstacle, often moving too late, spraying feathers across the bonnet and windscreen. the going was slow and we didn't quite make it to addis, despite having started at dawn. we stayed in a very cheap hotel, about 150kms outside the capital, exhausting the last of our funds. we tucked into our usual dish of fried meat and injera. 

arriving in addis, penniless and unable to get cash on a sunday, exhausted from weeks of long drives on bumpy roads, we ignored our budget and checked into the sheriton hotel where we knew our credit cards would be accepted. at about twice the price of the hilton it is an absurdly luxurious oasis, rising like a presidential palace from the surrounding desert of tin-roofed shacks. amongst so much poverty all the marble and gold opulence is certainly out of place, if not obscene, but just for 24 hours we were going to enjoy it.

addis abbaba for the week

  
waiting for our breakfast, awasa 

arba minch - 26th september

before entering ethiopia, we'd never heard of the 'omo valley', but as we travelled round the country, talking to other backpackers and asking what they'd enjoyed, it was a name that kept coming up. a mysterious and forgotten corner of an isolated country, peopled with exotic tribes and visited by few, it promised a true african adventure in every sense.

through what turned out to be a fortunate turn of events, we ended up travelling into this remote area with ester and ari - a young dutch couple travelling from cape town to holland in their nissan pick-up. we had met at the guest house in addis and reasoned that eight wheels were better than four - not to mention two winches. we had heard that the roads were rough, dry-weather roads - we were in the wet season. if the rainfall in addis was anything to go by then we had to be prepared for a lot of mud and the possibility of impassable tracks.

reasassured by the presence of our new companions, we set off on a week long quest to explore the valley and track down the notorious mursi tribe and the plates they wear in their stretched lower lips.

we met up at a town called arba minch, the northern gateway to the omo valley. having driven down separately we'd already had a taste of what was to come; having to cross a flood-swollen river. it wasn't really a problem, but the land rover set our hearts pounding when it jumped out of gear in the middle of the crossing - twice! all in all though, it was a promising start with our campsite spectacularly overlooking two african rift valley lakes.

arba minch - 27th september (am)

dorze is not in the omo valley, but is a mountain village located close to arba minch. it is isolated enough to still retain much of its traditional character, particularly during the weekly market that we spent the morning visiting. in fact we got a little bit more tradition that we bargained for.

the climb up to dorze was slow. the two 4x4s hauling themselves up and round the steep rocky hairpin bends. as we climbed we passed the usual throngs of pedestrians lining the road. excited by market day, or just by tourists they waved and smiled and danced. as always, we waved and smiled too, dancing as best we could in the confines of the cab, though we couldn't match their effortless rhythm and grace. neither did we have a suitable response to the 10 backflips one boy executed in our path.

as we neared the village the rain started to chuck it down and muddy brown rivulets quickly appeared in our path. we reached the village and parked up, staying in cars, waiting for the rain to cease. as we waited kids clambered onto the foot-steps bringing themselves to our eye level, some hung off the wing mirrors vying for prime position. children clamoured for our attention, moving between the two cars on the whim that something would make its way through the partially opened windows into their small hands. perhaps we were using the rain as an excuse not to move outside.

  
rainy market day, dorze 

after the downpour, the market was not looking too appealing, but we made our way across the sticky mud towards the slopes where the masses were congregating. by chance, we had visited on meskele, the annual festival celebrated with the slaughtering of bulls. the hillside was littered with their carcasses. we stopped by one of these unfortunate beasts believing it to be dead, only for it to rear up unsteadily on its front legs, a gaping hole where there should have been a neck, its head swinging from the spine; clearly in its last throes of life, but taking its time - five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes. we quickly back-tracked, jumping over the channels of rainwater mixed with blood, not breathing in the stench of slaughter that was in the air. on the hillside behind us we could hear the crowd cheering, screaming and briefly running clear as more zombie cattle lept up from the blood-stained mud. at this point we decided we had seen enough and returned to arba minch.

arba minch - 27th september (pm)

the afternoon's entertainment was much more pleasing to the eye. a cultural dance festival was taking place at the football stadium. different ethnic groups from the region had been brought together to perform. for many, this was the first time they had performed in front of an audience and what was even more incredulous, was that these tribes are normally warring over cattle and women. the day passed by peacefully as we watched performance after performance. the audience enjoyed the simulated battles, hunts and particularly the procreation which brought cheers from the crowd. we felt privileged to be there, particularly as we were allowed into the stage area and were in close proximity to the different tribes.

  
dorze dancers, festival

as the afternoon went on, the infamous mursi who at the beginning of the afternoon had been shielded from view slowly made their way closer and closer to esther and ari until they surrounded them. the tribes were becomingly increasingly interested in the few westerners that were there. when the performance ended, some of the performers came past and shook our hands and asked for their photo to be taken with the faranji (white person). under normal circumstance, if you want to take a photo you have to pay for the privilege. but not on this unique day.

omo valley - 28th september

  
hitching a lift, olive baboon 

our aim today was to get to dimeka via konso and turmi. it didn't look too far on the map but we guessed it would be slow-going. before konso the river had swollen; a congregation of women squatted on the banks washing their clothes, chatting happily, children lathering their bodies. the mud was thick and slippery as we approached the river but crossing was no problem for the land rover. the road took us through beautiful scenery, heading south when we needed to go north but eventually we made it round the escarpment. passing through the villages we occassionly stopped to take photos.

  
hamma people, omo valley 

on arrival we drove into the police compound where we planned to stay for the night. this didn't appear to be a problem so we made a quick tour of the market before wetting our dry throats with a refeshing coke. this we did at a very basic hotel where we were welcomed with a complimentary cup of tea and handed some beans. we were not too sure what they were, or if we should chew or swallow them but washed down with the tea they didn't taste too bad. once again, we were becoming the attraction with the locals in their garb peering in through the window at us, some even coming in and sitting down.

back at the police compound we were feeling pretty hungry and considered having one of the compound chickens killed but then not knowing how we would prepare it we opted for the 'tourist restaurant'. here we had the option of eggs. 'egg with anything?', no 'just egg' so egg it was. the enjoyment of our eggs was diminshed by the plight of a japenses tourist whose belongings had been stolen two weeks before and all he had was the clothes he was wearing.

jinka  - 30th september

at 6.00am we were awoken by ethiopian music playing from a policeman's radio; it was our cue to go. a short journey to jinka lay ahead - a dry-weather road with serious ruts, we averaged 15mph - it was lunchtime by the time we arrived. unfortunately, we had arrived on a day when only fasting food was available. this meant no meat and more eggs. that afternoon it poured with rain which made us a little bit nervous about the next day's drive into the mago national park.

mago national park - 31st september

it was dry when we left jinka but the rains had pushed the river to its limit. to get to mago we had to cross this river and at the crossing point it looked deep. the water surface was rippling which indicated a stony river bed which was good, but we weren't too sure just how deep it was. the locals were saying it was okay to cross but earlier we'd been told there was a bridge here so we weren't going to take their word for it. when a truck came through we guessed it would be okay and it was.

no sooner had we passed this obstacle when we were faced with an even bigger one. more water but rather than being a river it was a huge, muddy ditch stretching the width of the road. spurred on by the success of the first crossing we did not stop to test the depth or the consistency of the bottom and simply went for it. the land rover went first, lunging downwards unexpectedly in the centre of the ditch, a bow wave broke over the bonnet and splashed up against the windscreen but we were quickly out the other side grinning through the windows of a dripping land rover. it was worse for ari and ester as they now had to follow, aware of how deep it was. for us, ignorance had been bliss.

  
deeper than it looks, omo valley

the rest of the drive was straightforward. on reaching the park we set- up camp, hiring the services of a compulsory guard who would sleep by our camp and then escort us the next day when we visited the mursi. the mursi are known for their aggressive behaviour and intimidating tactics towards tourists, so before the event it was reassuring for me (claire) that we had an armed guard, albeit with a rusting kalishnikov.

the mursi - 1st october

two land rovers and a nissan (we had met a french couple at the campsite) covered the 50kms to the mursi village. there was more excitement with some serious slipping and sliding on the way.

  
armed guard and mud, omo valley 

visiting the mursi village turned out to be a bit of a strange one. on the way we were passed by a fleet of landcruisers ferrying tourists in to see the mursi. our first stop was just outside the village where some mursi were congregating. they were hounding the tourists, joustling for their photo to be taken. we got out but decided to wait until the village proper before taking photos. this warrior uncharacteristically smiled for the camera.

  
painted mursi warrior 

this girl didn't...

  
mursi woman and plate 

there are strict etiquette rules in taking photos. each person in the photo receives 2 birr, if the woman has a baby then 3 birr. this quickly adds up, especially when four of five of them jump into the photo. you also have to pay 30 birr just to enter the village. everyone wants their photo taken, and they pull at your clothes to get your attention, their fingers disappearing inside your pockets and if you don't want their photo then they become indignant. its a harsh selection process - 'not you, you...and put that baby away'. the women had a habit of swinging a baby out from behind their backs after agreeing the price and then demanding another birr.

on arriving at the village our guide jumped off the roof and went to talk to his mates, leaving us to fend the mursi off for ourselves. most of the time it was okay, but on occassion the mursi would press in on you, mimicking your voice, not allowing you to walk freely. we got some good photos though, and they had all made the effort with the body decorations and ornaments hoping to attract the most photos, and hence the most money.

after half an hour of this we were ready to go but where was our guide? the three vehicles lined up next to each other and hooted to alert the guide that we were off. on his return he clambered onto the roof whilst informing us that we had to pay the 30 birr per vehicle. at this point the mursi had positioned themselves in front of the vehicles. we paid for all three vehicles as we guessed the mursi wouldn't be providing any change and no sooner had we handed a 100 birr note over then we were accussed of not paying up. the mursi were getting excited at this stage and so were we. the mursi were shaking their spears, andy was pointing his finger whilst trying to get out through the window and our armed guard was sat on the roof, presumably daydreaming about being somewhere else. the escalating tension was broken suddenly as the dutch blasted their horn and sped off through the startled mob, the french and the english (us) following in quick succession. had the mursi ever been fortunate enough to have seen the dukes of hazard, i'm sure they would have been reminded of it that morning.

mago national park - 2nd october

we woke once again to the cries and whoops of baboons in the surrounding trees. being up in the rooftop tent, it feels like we're in the canopy with them. in ethiopia we've become accustomed to raising at dawn, usually as a result of the monkeys, roosters, donkeys, dogs or someone's radio. it's good to be up at that time, though the hassle too begins at dawn. often we climb down from the tent to find six or seven people standing, staring, waiting for our emergence. they will continue staring, mesmerised as we potter round the land rover, clean our teeth, whatever; it's all fasinating. this usually sets the tone for the day and can become a little draining, harmless though it is.

on this particular morning, one of the armed guards from another group was hanging around, sidling up as soon as i was down from the tent. he began by asking where we were going that day, saying we wouldn't make it, then that arie and ester wouldn't make it. the road was too bad, he said, but he'd be willing to help us, show us the way, etc. i could guess where all this was going, becoming increasly annoyed as he repeatedly lied and changed tack to try and manipulate a lift. we don't have the space, so i told him no but he persisted, hanging around, following claire about, peering into the land rover here and there. it wasn't even half six in the morning yet, and as had become a weekly event in ethiopia, i lost my temper. i was actually quite surprised to find myself leaping towards him from the roof of the land rover, where i'd been fastening the spare tyre. fortunately though, i didn't catch him. it was really an unpleasant incident, but all in all just the start of another crazy day in the omo valley.

jinka, arba minch, moyale - 3rd october

we made it back first to jinka, then arba minch. we crossed the rivers and slid through the mud, with a little less drama and ceremony than before. we smiled at the overexited mobs and (barely) avoided the donkeys. it was sad to be at the end of our little tour, and we were sad to be saying goodbye to arie and ester too. for them it was up to sudan and for us down to kenya.

after a day's rest, drinking beer, eating pepper steak and enjoying the view of the lakes at arba minch, we headed south to moyale and the kenyan border. shortly before reaching the isolated border a whirling whine became audible over the engine's usual rumble. we were about to traverse the most notoriously rough, bandit infested road in east africa, and that wasn't a good start.

  
when they see you coming... 

ethiopia: accommodation

ethiopia: other info

entry checks: we applied for our visa in cairo (not kharthoum where the procedure appears complicated) - cost $63 and took 24 hours (its now $20). the customs guy checked the back of the car & its contents at the border before driving to the customs house at shehedi where the paperwork was completed. a carnet is not a reqirement but we got ours stamped anyway. simple and straightforward - cost a dollar to get the car in.

costs: ethiopia is really cheap. a good meal costs £1, a beer about 30 pence, and a room with shower £4. the best coffee in the world with a piece of cake for about 20 pence. diesel is getting more expensive at 24 pence a litre.

must sees:the omo valley was the highlight of our time in ethiopia, if not our trip; seeing the gelada baboons in the simien mountains; the drive between debark and axum; the churches of lalibela; the royal enclosure at gonder and ethiopian shoulder-jerking dancing.