There are two parts to this page: the
Travel Facts section, and the
Diary section.
Key Travel Facts - Details that other overlanders might like to know
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When getting the visa, register vehicle details and keep hold of the letter/ receipt. They need this at the border.
Buy 3rd party insurance valid for all countries to South Africa (except Mozambique and SA itself) in Addis Abbaba at the Ethiopian Insurance Corporation. It is the tall building at the Southern end of Churchill Street, just West of the road. Everyone knows where it is, so just ask around. Four months 3rd Party cost us 70 USD and took about one hour. Apparently this will save lots of time at the borders (and has already saved us a police fine in Kenya).
If you want to see Lalibella, consider flying across from Gondar (approx. 80 US rtn.) to save a long detour (c. 2 days) on bad roads
Yohensen (CONTACT) is a good guy – guide / help / whatever
DIARY - How we're getting on, and what we've been up to
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Nights spent sleeping in proper buildings: Lots – so cheap it was hardly worth camping!
Number of punctures: Two. Both on the same day.
Number of cock-ups: Four hours driving in the wrong direction. We blame the maps of course.
Treating ourselves: Lunch at the Sheraton, even though they wouldn’t let us use the pool!
Slumming or Adventuring it: Exploring the tribes.
ETHIOPIA
Ethiopia is a completely different country. The calendar runs six days behind ours. Their clock starts at what the rest of the world calls ‘six’ (so midday becomes six, not twelve). They are currently seven years behind. And despite being an immensely fertile country, they seem over-run by part time beggars.
So, crossing over the border we realised we had arrived in a completely new country. OK, so this should have been obvious anyway, but the swarms of beggars and kids that surrounded the car made it even more so.
“Meester meester. I help you.”
“Mother. Brother. You give me money.”
“Give me. Give me”
… but the roads were much better (initially).
The immigration was completed quickly at the border, and a further 30 km south at the Customs Office the car’s paperwork was completed in ten minutes for only 1 USD. And everyone was being friendly and helpful.
Having stopped off in a little town slightly south, we ignored advice and overcame our cynicism, deciding to give a “Student” a lift. He was, quite conveniently as it turned out, heading to the same town as us and would be able to help us out. In the car it emerged that his family lived in Gondar, his father was working as a farmer near Metama, and that he was studying Tourism at a college in Addis. We would meet him later (by coincidence) in Addis, and Yohensen as he was called turned out to be one of the most genuine Ethiopians that we met.
GONDAR
We arrived in Gondar and checked into the Belegaz Pension (secure parking) where one of the ‘helpful kids’ took me off to get an oil change done. The best price his ‘good garage’ could offer was 200 birr – we got it done on our own at the Shell Garage later for 25 birr. Meanwhile another ‘helpful kid’ took our washing away, then making every effort over the next six days to hide away with our stolen clothes. But everyone else was lovely, and despite this we would recommend the pension.
The two main sites in Gondar are the Fasildas Castles and the Debre Selaise Church, so we decided to do these two. The collection of Fasildas Castles offers a charming respite from the hassle, where you can instead wander within the walled enclosure amongst the tall trees and big castles. The enclosure was built in the 16th Century, started by Emperor Fasildas, and then added to by each and every successor. There are quite a few castles to see, and the free guides are excellent.
Despite advice from the ‘helpful kids’ at the hotel that the Debre Selaise church was “really very difficult to find, and a very long way to walk” we walked out to find it. Following the main road, we found the church after about 1.5km. The church / monastry is peacefully situated on a hill, and again the guide was excellent making up lots of feasible stories about the various murals.
Heading back to the hotel we passed one of the little street kids.
“Ah Meeester. You remember me.”
“No.”
“Yes Meester. You my friend from earlier.”
“Nope. Don’t think so.”
“So, where you from then.”
“Russia.”
[Pause]
“Ahhh. No Meester, you joke with me.”
“Yes. Anyway, don’t you have a home to go to” (a little bit close to the bone)
… this little street kid would be around again.
The other ‘site’ worth visiting is the Goha Hotel up on the hill, so we spent a couple of evenings up there eating and drinking. For our first meal in Ethiopia we were not sure what to pay, so when the bill came for three courses each, some beers, wine and soft drinks at less than a fiver we decided that we would like this country.
SIMIEN MOUNTAINS
Having spoken to a few other tourists, and some of the more reliable locals, we set off for our two day trek in the Simien Mountains. Arriving in Dejun, a real hole but access to the park, we avoided the local scallies and got ourselves a ‘Scout’ to protect us against evils with his Kalashnikov, park entrance, and a couple of Germans who would be tagging along for the trip. With the car pretty full, we drove out along a stunning twenty kilometre track towards Sankabat, from where we would start our trek.
It was hot, and already quite high (about 2,400m) and fairly hard going. We had ignored advice to take a mule, so when the hills got steep, Nigel stepped up to the task admirably, carrying both packs. Fortunately, both were light since our kit was crammed into two day sacs. Tents, sleeping bags, water, cooking stuff, and as many warm clothes as we could fit in. Not very many.
As the day progressed, we got increasingly hot, knackered, and generally ‘done in’ by altitude. We finally stumbled into camp at about six O’clock. It was at about 2,900m, but the combination of that, with the steep climbs and heat had knackered us out! After cooking, and shivering round the fire we retired to our tents to shiver away a night with the sounds of jackals and hyenas around the camp. We awoke to frost.
Making a short trek above Ginch camp to ‘Saha’ viewpoint, we sat for a while. The view was quite stunning (again) and we spotted Wild Ibex (the only endemic families in the world) scampering around on the cliffs below. Then we began the long trek back, to collect the car, finally arriving back in Gondar for 9pm.
HEADING TO ADDIS
OK, so we had planned to head across to Lalibella, famed as the incredible site of enormous rock churches hewn out of the bed-rock, but after a day’s drive south we decided that we simply could not face the tough two-day drive east on appalling roads to see the sight. We opted to continue heading down to Addis Ababba, only making a quick stop at Bahar Dar. The Japs have made a kind donation to build the road, and it is now perfect tarmac for much of the way. It seems that much of Ethiopia’s infrastructure is ‘donated’ by one body or nation or another.
ADDIS ABABBA
Addis Ababba was a lovely place to relax for a few days, and also (quite coincidentally) to bump into the Overland Club again. It turned out to be a good chance to hook up with Juliet and Remmy, and we agreed to do a ‘tour of the tribes’ together.
Time in Addis was spent visiting the Ethnographic Museum (very well presented, and good background to the tribes), the National Museum (famed for ‘Lucy’ – one of the oldest pre-humans found at 4.5 million years old), and the Sheraton (which tempted us with Swimming pools, but did provide mince pies). We also visited the market and got quite a bit of successful Christmas shopping done.
THE TRIBES
Having decided that we would rather visit the south and see the tribes rather than Lalibella, we teamed up with another couple (Juliette and Remy) and headed to Arba Minch. Luckily we had plenty of fuel as there was none available and we still had another 5 hour drive to Konso where we would begin our tour. We arrived in Konso in the mid morning, early enough to collect the necessary permission slips to visit the nearby villages. Whilst Nigel and the guy from the other couple went to get permission and have a child try to pick pocket them by being over friendly I (gina) and Juliette (the other team member) spent 30 minutes teaching songs and playing games with the 30 children who were surrounding the car. Despite the obvious request for money or anything else that they could spy, this was great fun, the children loved it and Nigel and Remy returned to see us doing head shoulder knee and toes with the children. The children were really happy when they managed to remember how to do it.
Finally we were on our way to visit the villages, first village was Konso village, of course within minutes we were surrounded by children making request for various items, but soon we were being shown around with children in tow. The village sat amongst hill tops, the houses made of straw and mud, simple one room structures. There were some large structures where the adults may sleep. A few photos were taken but not too many as two other villages to visit and not enough Birr to go around as all of the children have been told to charge for all photos that they may be in. The second village, New York, as they call it, was the worst experience that we have had in Ethiopia, Hassle followed hassle. Although I would try to stand with Nigel, the children would force themselves between us, each trying to butter us up for money and gifts. We had strategically left all money and cameras in the car, so pickpockets would be left empty handed. After ten minutes we climbed back into car and had a conversation about head lice, so the drive to the next village was accompanied by immense scratching. At the next village we stumbled across a market where Nigel managed to purchase a pair of tribal shorts, although he was not sure where he was going to put everything. At Mechaka, the final village for the day, there was much less hassle and despite an elderly man who was upset that we did not show him enough attention, the visit was good, the village was much like the others that we had seen, apart from the excellent Heads Shoulders Knees and Toes rendition that the children put on with only minimal coaching. We had had a really good day and returned to Konso exhausted.
For our second Tribal Day, we had decided to head to Tumi for the evening so that we could catch the market there. We had heard it would be a colourful display of Hammer Tribespeople – famed for their colourful bracelets and braided copper hair. Note that today is where our ‘run of poor driving days’ starts. So, having set off early with our faithful Lonely Planet map for reference, we headed for Tumni. The route looked to be approximately 200km, and we had decided not to head for Jinka, home of the Mursi, since this was apparently 300km or so. After six hours driving on poor roads we found ourselves in Jinka. Arse. Still, we would make the most of it, and headed for a restaurant to get some lunch and decide what we would do.
Actually this ‘mistake’ would turn out to be for the better. Jinka is gateway to the Mursi villages, and the Mursi people are famous for the women’s stretched lips (stretched over the years with lip plates). We were told that we might have time to get out to the closer Mursi village, but would need to pay to enter the National Park and also to hire an armed Scout since the Mursi could be aggressive. Not quite sure what to do we headed for the outskirts of town, catching a group of Mursi wandering around the Market. We stopped to chat (as much as chat was possible, so rather to gawp and smile). Then we headed out to the National Park for a bit of a drive.
The drive into Mago National park was incredibly steep, and we found ourselves descending for over one hour into the Mago Valley. The increase in heat was incredible. At the bottom of the valley we spotted some dik-diks (small antelope) and warthog, before turning round. We knew that we had a fairly deep river crossing to pass before returning to the village so were keen not to be too late.
RIVER RESCUE
As we neared the river crossing we rounded the corner to spot a park land-cruiser bogged right down in the middle of it, with water lapping over the door sills. Bugger. Bugger because it confirmed that it was indeed a difficult crossing (something we were pretty sure of having only just scraped through it earlier), and bugger because we would have to get them out. Yet mostly Great because this would be an Adventure! The other driver’s face beamed back at us.
So, positioning ourselves on the steep edge to the crossing, we hooked up his tow-wire and started up both engines. Water and air spluttered from the river indicating that something had happened with his truck. And off we raced, first gear low-ratio, full power to pull him free. His wire simply snapped and he moved nowhere. OK, a re-think.
We would drive through first, and try to pull him further in and across the river using our rope. A less logical solution than to pull him out back along his tracks, but worth a go. First this required us to cross. After much faffing (low tyre pressures, tarpaulins across the radiator, numerous local scouts to wander around indicating water depth, bottom texture and the best route) and plenty of nerves, we were ready to cross. The other driver was always on hand to offer strong and certain guidance on what exactly was the best route – he was now quite clear that his was not in fact it. So, in first gear low-ratio we powered through without any real problems, a decent bow-wave forming ahead of the car. A hearty cheer went up from the crowd and I beamed a proud smile for the achievement.
With our cargo-ship tow rope retrieved from the roof, it was anchored to their car (after much under-water scurrying) and we were ready to try again. With engines roaring and spluttering, and much jerking and sliding, out they came. The driver’s smile broadened once again and we were ready to head back to the village, karma fully topped up.
MURSI EXPERIENCE
As we came into the village we stopped to chat to a rather tattered (even by our standards) westerner wandering in. He looked a bit worn out. He was in fact just finishing a three day walk back from a Mursi Village, having spent twenty-four days living with their community. He had got caught up in the middle of their current tribal war, had been shot at, had guns cocked in his face, and had everything stolen. He had spent every day unsure of whether he would survive and was, to put it mildly, still a little confused by the whole experience. He was certainly pleased to have some western company, his name was Will, and he was an American. He would introduce us to the Mursi in town (there were apparently quite a few) and tell us a lot about their culture, way of life, and current problems.
First we met the Mursi at their ‘hotel’ in town – a filthy and very basic collection of rooms down a small alley. We sat silently with them, exchanging some kind of smiles through the dark. Will had explained to us that the relationship with the Mursi is always quite strange. They are shunned and persecuted by the Ethiopians who barely tolerate their presence in the villages, and as such they have warmed to some extent to ‘Faranges’ (whites) who they identify with in some way as ‘different’ within the villages. But this never stops them asking for money, and through Will’s twenty-four days with the tribes he had never moved beyond the ‘give me everything you have’ stage. So, the Mursi were pleased to have us sitting around with them, probably happy for our company, and certainly expectant of food or gifts at the end of it.
Keen not to give money, we headed for the market with the Mursi to buy them some food for the evening. Will explained that they have been suffering recently since their crop has not harvested well, and many of the Mursi villages are now struggling for food. Combined with a war that they are currently waging with a neighbouring tribe, they have a very difficult life. The tribal wars are now conducted with Kalashnikovs and AK-47s, with grain and cattle traded for bullets. The death toll is high.
At the market we sat to one side with the Mursi whilst Will went off to get some potatoes for their dinner. We experienced quite an insight of their persecution. Whilst sitting as a group, local Ethiopians would walk past sneering, jeering and laughing at the Mursi. The children would openly antogonise them, and some of the older boys approached the group and would stand gyrating their groins in the faces of the Mursi Women. This was too much to ignore, and we found ourselves forced to push away the antagonists. The Mursi would also fight back for themselves, lashing out with their spears and sticks, but in an alien environment it was clear that they felt vulnerable. It was very sad to see such powerful tribes-people reduced to laughing stock.
The following day we returned to join the Mursi for some breakfast which we planned to buy. We had heard that Aloo-Chong, one of the Mursi, had had his money stolen whilst at the market the previous day, and we found ourselves facing a moral dilemma as to whether or not we should help reimburse him. On the one hand we had very indirectly led to his loss and could easily afford to replace the sum; on the other hand he must learn to guard his money and we were keen not to be viewed as walking wallets. We decided to buy breakfast rather than to refund the cash.
Meeting the group near their rooms, the food that we bought was quickly taken and distributed. Will explained that some of the Mursi were rather worse for wear having got very drunk the night before. Our naive picture of the Mursi as an innocent tribe struggling to save money in return for food was blown away. Further more, Will told us how some of the tribes-people would come into the villages to pay for local prostitutes. It was sad to realise that Aids, which is hitting East Africa so horribly, would also be penetrate the tribal villages.
We left Jinka with a much fuller picture of the Mursi tribespeople; their hardships, their lifestyles, and their integration with the local communities.
Heading back from Jinka we stopped at a market that we happened to pass through. The Hammer tribes-people were flocking in, and it was fun to sit around and watch them all arriving with their colourful jewellery and characteristic copper braided hair. It was not long before we could no longer resist, and joined in to wander around the market. I found myself trying a little of the ‘dairy product’ that all of the Hammer women were selling from their cases. The white gue was horribly rancid, forcing my face to make all kinds of contortions. I had to fight back the urge to vomit for several hours.
Meanwhile a Hammer Tribeswomen was stroking Gina’s skin and gesturing towards the T-shirt. It emerged that she was not simply curious about the texture of white skin, but rather could not believe that we could wear such filthy clothes, and was curious how our dirty skin felt!
Eventually we arrived back in Konso after a great day’s “Tribe Spotting”.
The next day saw the beginning of a bad run of navigation or car days. Setting off under the confident guidance of our National Geographic map and guidance from the man at the petrol station, we believed we were on the dirt track to Yabello. After four hours we stopped to check in a village that we were still on track, slightly curious that we had not yet hit the tarred main road. We were in fact about 100km in the wrong direction, and would instead end up joining the tar at Agere Maryam, 100km North of where we really wanted to be. Still, we had hit the tar! We dropped off Remy and Juliet in the middle of an evidently racist and grotty town, and headed south. With good roads and a long day, we miraculously made Moyale (Ethiopia). We had hoped to be their by 2pm, but instead arrived at about 7pm. Still, we were there.
Checking into our hotel, a local commented to me (Nigel) that “I don’t know how you wear such filthy clothes; it must be so harsh on your skin”. We decided that it was time to take a wash and get some laundry done.