Sunday 2 December 2007

The long and winding road

This post was written at Lake Langano, Ethiopia, on 20 November 2007.

Our stay in Bahir Dar was rounded out by a day of sightseeing. In the morning, we took a cruise on Lake Tana, visiting a number of island monasteries. We only went into one (due to budget constraints – there is an entrance fee to each), but the murals inside were brilliant, telling various stories from the Bible and history.

While out in the boat we also had a look at the outlet into the Blue Nile. In the afternoon, we drove out to see the Blue Nile Falls. The falls, known as “Smoke of Fire” are hailed to be 450 metres wide, with spray reaching up to a kilometre away. We were both quite disappointed here though, as the adjacent Hydro scheme draws off most of the water, so the massive falls shown in the posters were reduced to a mere trickle. Worse still, we had paid to go and see them. Catkin wasn’t happy, and someone was going to get it…

First in the firing line was the unwitting carpark attendant, an employee of the tourism bureau. He had asked us what we thought, so we told him, suggesting it was unfair to charge to see the falls at low flow. He happily gave us the name of the Head of the tourism bureau and suggested we discuss it with him, and then had the gall to ask if we could give him a pen. This was his fatal mistake. After having been asked for pens by almost every child in Northern Ethiopia, Catkin let him know in no uncertain terms that he would NOT be receiving a pen from us.

So, the next morning it was off to the tourism bureau office. The Head wasn’t there (maybe he was hiding from Catkin?), so a deputy listened to what we had to say. He was very apologetic that the falls were much reduced from their original splendour, but it seems that is just the way it is, and I don’t think our suggestions to stop promoting them as they were, and in particular, to stop charging tourists to see them, will go too far. He did, however, give us some brochures on Lalibela, which was our next port of call.

He also, a bit unfairly probably, got a bit of an ear-bashing about the behaviour of the children we had encountered in Ethiopia. Almost without fail, after the initial “You! You! You! You!” greeting, the children demand money, pens, t-shirts, “a trouser”, food, medicine, etc. Often it is from children who look healthy, are well dressed and on their way to or from school, with a bag of schoolbooks, but they seemed to have picked up this bad habit of demanding something for nothing from foreigners. When you see the number of Aid agency vehicles cruising the countryside, you can’t help wondering if they are part of the problem rather than the solution, for all the good work they do. Anyway, suffice to say, a tourism department official wasn’t really able to comment on the education of the nation’s children. Later, in Addis Ababa, we happened to walk past the Ministry of Education offices, so I had to quicken our step and point to something on the other side of the road in the hope Catkin didn’t notice, or she would have been in there tearing strips off them.

Always keen for an adventure, we opted to take our ageing tyres on what would hopefully be one last voyage of discovery for them. We had been warned that the road to Lalibela was bad, with many stretches consisting mainly of sharp rocks and large sections under reconstruction by the Chinese. Anyway, it was worse than we expected. Our speed average 25-30km/h for most of the day. After our late start from the tourism bureau, we weren’t able to make the 300km or so by nightfall, so found a reasonable place to camp for the night. In the morning we only had about five or six people stop to watch us eat breakfast and clean our teeth, so it was a good result.

Lalibela is famous in Ethiopia for its numerous rock hewn churches. Of these, 11 are in the town itself, and you buy one ticket to see all 11. Unfortunately, the ticket price (for foreign tourists) doubled a year ago to an extortionate sum, but fortunately (for us anyway) the churches are grouped in three sites, so we quickly worked out that we could buy one ticket and share it. While I was waiting outside one site for Catkin, a “deacon” came and asked if I had enjoyed the churches. I asked why the tickets were so expensive, and was surprised to learn that the money pays the salaries of the priests and deacons. Hmmm…

The late afternoon was spent mending yet another puncture, but it was very pleasing to sit at the hotel at the top of the hill and enjoy a beer as the sun set.

From Lalibela, we were heading to Addis Ababa. More bad roads in all direction, but we decided to take what looked to be the shortest route (although not the main road).

We encountered more stone throwing little boys. I reversed back to one, but he took off at the speed of light. Another, I stopped and jumped out to chase, but my dreams of apprehending the offender ended in a cloud of dust when I slipped over in the gravel! The grazes have nearly all healed now, thanks for asking. Immediately after one incident a white Land Cruiser from Save the Children went past. I reminisced about collecting door to door in Warkworth for Save the Children when I was young, and now here were the very children that have been saved, throwing stones at my car! We joked about a new charity called Stone the Children. Ah, it was funny. We laughed.

The Scenic Route we found ourselves on for the next two days didn’t quite match what was on out map, but most of the time was generally heading south, which was the right direction, so we kept going. I don’t think many foreigners travel this way, as the reactions of the locals were totally different to what we had experienced in the more tourist oriented areas. The scenery was spectacular, crossing three deep canyons, with very steep descents and ascents. Low ratio on the transfer box got a good workout, and we only got two more punctures. And Catkin thrilled the locals in one town by driving the wrong way around their only roundabout, because “some cows were in my way!”

We even made our way into a closed area of roadworks, because we didn’t take the detour (which wasn’t marked…). Anyway, after telling the man in charge “we have to get to Addis Ababa, tonight” he let us through, and sent an escort to make sure we didn’t go the wrong way. We had been having trouble finding a good campsite that night, and it was now dark. We finally did find a spot by a river, and had our coldest night in the tent so far – down to minus 2.5ºC. Icicles all round. Pity I shaved the beard off in Sudan.

We only had a short distance to go the next morning to get to Addis Ababa, and most of it was on a very good asphalt road. Unfortunately, the ability and skill of the Ethiopian drivers is inversely proportional to the condition of the road. Actually, no. They are terrible whatever the road condition, but terrible and FAST on a good road.

There were a few things we needed to sort out in Addis, and top of the list were applying for Kenyan visas and finding the Michelin Man to see about new tyres (although it was now Saturday, so these would have to wait until Monday). In the meantime, we filled in the time with doing our washing and checking email. Although there is plenty of internet access in Ethiopia, all of it is dial-up, and all seems to run through a single server, so it is slow slow SLOW. As for our blog site, we couldn’t even get onto it, let alone publish the post we had been carrying around for a week. Very frustrating, but that’s just the way it is. In the meantime, we have kept writing the blog posts so that when we do get somewhere with decent internet (probably Nairobi now), we can foist them all on you at once.

We have ended up spending a lot more time in Capital cities on this trip than we thought we would. Lately, there have been visas to apply for along the way, and often we need to by a part or two for the Land Rover. We usually save our washing until we are staying in a proper campsite or hotel, and sometimes we even splash out and go out for a meal. Here, we went to the Addis Ababa Restaurant, and I had ribs. And it was just ribs with lots of meat and no vegetables to get in the way. Man, was it good. And I had beer, too. Ribs and beer – delicious.

Also in Addis Ababa, we caught up to Louis the Dutchman, whom we last saw when he departed Khartoum four days before we did. It was good to see him again, and get a few more pointers about our planned route south, as he has been that way before. He seems to have turned over a new leaf, too, as we never saw one bottle of Coke touch his lips, where previously we had seen him often drink three or four in a row.

Finally, on Monday, after applying for a Kenyan visa for me (British Catkin would have needed one, but South African Catkin doesn’t) and buying some exciting Land Rover parts, we found the Michelin Man, and he even had the right tyres in stock to match our (almost) unused spare. All was going well until we broke their hoist…

2 comments:

Mutti said...

Was the Michelin Man in a blow-up suit? Mutti

Trish and Pete said...

Turning into a bit of a cliff-hanger! Wonderful update, and good to see there is a lot to laugh about in the middle of all the rocks and dust. A most enjoyable read.

Love to you both XX