Racing the visa
Trip Start
Apr 08, 2003
1
9
14
Trip End
Aug 2003
Khartoum,
Sudan
Monday, June 30, 2003
Once I had a visa I could head north on what is called "The Historical Route" around the highland area and then cross out of Ethiopia.
In Addis I bumped into 3 other travellers waiting to do exactly the same thing: Mike (Canada), Rob (Kiwi) and Steve (USA - but tells everyone Canada). After 2 months in the country I finally had the opportunity to travel with some other people. How novel!
Steve, Rob and I applied for our visas and were issued them 3 days later with a validity of 1 month.
Unfortunately Mike wasn't so lucky.
Because of the SARS outbreak in Toronto (Mike is from Vancouver - other side of the pretty big country) Sudan wasn't issuing tourist visas to Canadian citizens.
Doctor's certificates and explanations that if Mike had SARS half of Ethiopia would be dead now fell on deaf ears. In the end it took Mike 16 days of harrassing the Sudanese Consul to get the visa.
The wait was eating into our time left in Ethiopia. I'd budgeted 6 weeks to see everything I wanted to see in the north. We had 3 and a half weeks left until our Sudanese visas expired.
Rob and I had headed north the day before the visa was issued. I'd had enough of Addis and wanted to continue and wait for Steve and Mike to catch up in a fresh environment. The poverty, hassle and suffering in the capital was beginning to really effect me.
On the morning of our departure I was woken by machine gun fire near the hotel.
"Common in African cities. The soldiers fire a few rounds into the air to scare people away. Get it all the time in Mozambique," said Rob later.
Still, I prefer to wake up to an alarm clock.
Our first destination was Lalibela, the site of a group of ancient, rock hewn churches. Its 2 days north of Addis Ababa and situated in the highlands among a range of atmospheric mountains.
The drive was long and the scenery was stunning, maintaining Ethiopia's position as the the most beautiful landscape I've ever seen. The road was built by the Italians during their short occupation of Ethiopia before and during WW2.
The fascists may have been evil bastards but they sure could build fantastic mountain roads.
There isn't much too the town of Lalibela. A couple of dirt streets and mud huts on the edge of the church complex. The setting was pleasant though despite the attitude of the locals that it was funny to randomly beat the homeless kids in the street.
It got to the point where we were verbally abusing and threatening to fight the town's teenagers who took such glee in tormenting those weaker than themselves.
We weren't popular. It didn't matter though as Rob is a big bastard and tended to intimidate the weedy Ethiopian men easily.
I'm thinking about it now and for some reason Lalibela seemed to be an extremely violent place. I think it was because it is Ethiopia's spiritual capital. Religion makes people do strange things.
One afternoon on the way to the churches we saw a "crazy" woman get subdued and trussed up by a mob of people. Her dog, which was trying to protect her, was almost beaten to death before taking cover under a house.
The collective madness of the town seemed to overshadow the reason we had come there: the churches.
The churches were built (carved) in clusters in a small area.
The first cluster we visited was a big disappointment. The carvings were beautiful and pretty amazing but the scaffolding UNESCO had erected to protect them from erosion was appalling. They may have well wrapped them in black plastic.
The second cluster was much better. The weather protection on these was done much more subtlely (I use that word loosely). They tended to only obscure two sides of the church leaving the others open.
But despite the amazing scale, attention to detail and sheer grandeur of the churches the best thing about them was the tunnels underneath.
According to legend a network of tunnels connects every church in the area. Most tunnel entrances to the churches are blocked off now due to thefts of artefacts by private sellers. The tunnel system is still accesible though and crisscrosses the mountain side.
It was like an adult playpen and keep the four of us occupied for 3 hours, using torches to navigate dark passages, climbing through holes in rooves and floors and skirting the edges of ravines.
Great stuff!
After 4 days in Lalibela exploring, relaxing and getting drunk at night on the local drink tej, a potent honey wine, we heading west to Bahar Dar, a city on the shores of Lake Tana, the source of the Blue Nile.
The ride was 2 days and uneventful despite the scenery and Rob getting sick. We were worried it was malaria because he had stopped taken his pills. The next morning he had improved and we continued on. It was fortunate: the overnight stop was a shithole, literally. It was named "Nefesmechwa" which means "Outlet for wind"!
Bahar Dar is one of the nicer cities in Ethiopia aesthetically. Its almost on par with Awasa in the south. The lake is beautiful and populated by pelicans and flamingos. The streets are lined by palm trees and are only moderately filthy.
The main attraction in Bahar Dar is a series of island monasteries dotted around the lake.
After an epic bargaining session we organised a boat to take us out. Later we met an American staying at one of the nicer hotels who said that our price was by far the cheapest he'd heard anyone get.
The monasteries and churches themselves were a disappointment. Built out of mud and wood, most of them were being even more damaged by the men trying to repair the eroding walls.
The trip across the lake was very peaceful and the areas around the monasteries were gorgeous forest, possibly some of the least damaged in the whole of Ethiopia.
Bahar Dar would have been nice to spend a few days in relaxing but were running out of time on the visas and had to move. None of us really liked travelling this fast but it was out of our hands.
Early the next morning, as usual, we got a bus and headed further north to Gondar, a regional capital and attractive town with a large castle complex which the Portugese helped build.
We didn't stay long. Our next destination was Simien Mountains National Park. We'd come back to Gondar later as we had to travel to the border from there.
The next day in Debark, where the park HQ is situated, we bumped into a group of Poles we had met in Addis. They were Jarek, Aldonna and Martin. We called them the "Esteemed Polish Delegation" and invited them to join us on a 4 day trek in the mountains.
We departed the next morning.
There were no horses this time. We're all trying to preserve our money so we left our non-essential gear at the hotel in Debark, divvied up the food and humped our packs into the mountains.
The walk was difficult with our bags combined with the high altitude. The scenery was spectacular though and every ache, scrape and drop of sweat was worth it when we topped a hill and overlooked the amazing vista from the edge of the Simien Escarpment.
As we approached the camp, aching and weary and moaning chronically (well I was), we stumbled on a group of about 20 Gelada Baboons sitting around the road chilling out and grooming each other.
The Gelada Baboon is found only in the Simien mountains. Its called the Bleeding Heart Baboon sometimes because of a deep red patch on the chest of the male. The more vivid and red it is denotes his sexual potency at any time.
As baboons go, and I've seen a few now, the Gelada is definately the least ugly.
During the night Aldonna came down with a bout of diarrheoa. The Poles decided to stay at the camp while we continued on. They'd wait until we got back and we'd continue back to Debark together.
The next morning I was lucky enough to stumble on a little klipspringer (a little deer with big ears) hanging out near a watering hole on my way to fill up the water bottles. It looked at me for about 20 seconds before bounding off into the bush.
I was chuffed.
We headed out early and immediately encountered a huge group of Gelada Baboons. Over 250 of them were sunning themselves on the edge of the escarpment. Young males danced around in combat, trying to prove themselves to the females. Its was not unlike a Welsh pub on a friday night.
Our route took us right through the middle of them as the different family groups stretched out over 500m of escarpment. They're used to humans and looked at us with bored bewilderment as we sweated past, blasting off rolls with our cameras.
I'll have a hundred monkey photos now to go with my hundred zebra photos.
By midday we reached the Geech Abyss, the highest point of the escarpment. From there its 1000m straight down to the lowlands - absolutely exhilarating.
I gave the guys a scare when I was trying to get into a better position for a photo. My foot slipped on the dust covering the rocks and despite there being no danger of me falling everyone shit themselves.
Well, I found it funny even if they didn't.
We continued on until Geech camp. On the way the rain started, and built and built and built.
Eventually we took refuge in a grass hut in a village near the camp ground. We'd humped 5kms up hill in the rain and were soaked and freezing. There was 1km to go, still uphill, and the rain was only getting stronger.
We decided to push on rather than freeze waiting for it to stop.
On leaving the village we discovered that the hill we had to climb had turned into a 300m wide raging torrent. Jumping from one grassy mound to another we made our way up to the ice covered plateau where we were planning to camp.
Shivering and exhausted we slumped down in the grass hut they use for cooking at the campground.
Rob and I were in pretty good shape due to our walking boots keeping the cold off our feet better as well as thicker waterproofs (I'm so glad I splashed out on that expensive North Face jacket now). Steve and Mike had been wearing sandals though and were "pretty much on the verge of frostbite" according to Steve.
We got a big fire going and Rob made up some amazing tomato soup. It was the best meal I've had. I'd humped up a liter of the local booze, Araki, which is about 40% alcohol. Finally it came to a use besides giving us a hangover: warming up our miserable souls.
We all thawed and dried out around the smokey fire. I couldn't help thinking how lucky we'd been that the Poles hadn't come with us. They hadn't much bad weather clothing with them and with Aldonna in a weakened state already from her sickness we may have been in real trouble.
Later a Danish guy who was also hiking came over and chatted with us. He said his guide has been working in the mountains for 5 years and had never seen a storm like that before.
The next morning was clear and crisp. The previous day's exertions had faded into an adventurous memory and we set out for the nearby peak of Imet Gogo (3972m).
The view was stunning and we arrived just in time before the clouds rolled forward in front of that day's rain.
We were racing the weather. We got back to the camp and headed out to Sankobar, the camp from the first night.
My guts had gone a little haywire so I lagged behind. I walk slower than the other guys anyway but having to dodge off into the bush every 30 minutes to squirt made it worse.
We made it before the rain hit though. Our bodies were adapting to the walking with packs so we did move faster than we had been the past 2 days. Rob's super-carbo food helped quite a bit too.
The Poles were in much better shape and had no problems the next day walking back to Debark.
We all had to go without showers due to no water at the hotel (hotels in Ethiopia either have power OR water but never both at one time). Steve did demand a bucket of water to wash with but I wasn't fussed. I'd only been showering once a week for the last month due to the water shortages so being stinky and dirty for another day wasn't a big deal.
We went to the flashest hotel in town (not that flash but with Faranji food - spaghetti and vegetables) and ate and drunk cheap draft beer to our heart's content.
The Simiens had been worth every single minute.
The next morning we returned to Gondar and got settled at the Ethiopia Hotel, a cheap dive but situated in a fantastic old Italian Art Deco building which was erected during the occupation.
The Poles were heading up to a historical town further north called Axum and I decided to go with them. The guys were fed up with Ethiopia, especially the torturous buses, and decided to wait for me in Gondar and relax.
Axum was the last main sight I wanted to see in Ethiopia. I was pretty fed up with Ethiopia now too to be honest and wanted to leave as soon as possible. I had 5 busrides left in the country and, despite the discomfort, was planning to do them in 6 days.
Discomfort was the understatement of my life.
The ride from Gondar to Shire (the town before Axum) was not a busride, it was an exercise in psychological warfare.
I should've cottoned on when the bus guy wouldn't let us on straight away. Usually everyone just scrums in, taking the best seat they can find.
Instead they made us wait outside until everyone was ready to get on. Then the bus guy let one person get on at a time and made them sit in their allocated seat number.
Sounds great except there was no seat numbers on any of the seats.
This confused the Ethiopians almost as much as us and eventually it descended into the usual push and shove match. We ended up on the back seats of the bus (the worse). The seat wasn't rivetted down and slid forward as we drove. The area underneath was open to the road so we sat there for 11 hours being sand blasted by red soil and catapaulted into the ceiling on every bump.
Then it got bad.
Jarek had been feeling a bit sick the past 2 days. He'd decided to go on to Axum regardless.
After an hour on the bus he got sick, real sick.
He was running a 40 degree fever, had a blasting headache and was vomitting every 5 minutes. It was probably malaria.
His condition would've been terrible if he was lying in a nice, comfy hotel room. On the worst bus in Ethiopia it was... well, I have no idea how he held in there for 11 hours. He's a hell of a lot harder than I am.
We got to Shire around 5pm. The town is a 2km stretch of asphalt lined by shops on either side. It has a great, cheap hotel next to the bus station which was fortunate as Jarek could barely walk and Aldonna was out of her head with worry.
They got settled and I had a beer and something to eat with Martin downstairs. I explained how I needed to continue the next day - time was ticking on my visa. I felt bad for abandoning them but they understood my predicament.
The next morning I got up at 4:30am and cursed the Ethiopian bus system as I travelled to Axum.
Axum is one of the main tourist attractions in the country so I was bracing for loads of hassle and prices going up even higher than usual because I'm a faranji. Barring a couple of lamers at the bus station who tried to attach themselves to me as guides the town was a pleasant relief.
I got a cheap room in town. I break cheap hotels in 2 categories: those I sleep with a knife next to me for security and those I don't. This was one of the former category (but its usually just me being paranoid - Ethiopia is safe as houses. Too much malaria medicine makes you feel a bit persecuted).
The main things to see in town are St Mary of Zion church, where the Ark of the Covenant, is supposedly kept and a stellae field built during the Axumite Empire (around 100BC-600AD but don't quote me on that as its probably wrong).
The church was a matter of walking around the perimeter fence until you saw the building the Ark is kept in. You can't go inside so its not worth paying to get into the new church built next to it by Haile Selassie which looks like ET's spaceship.
The stellae field was cool. There's 2 main stellae, one standing and one smashed on the ground. There was a 3rd but Mussolini stole it and took it to Rome. Its currently outside the WHO HQ there.
The stellae are carved from single blocks of rock and dwarf similar efforts by the Egyptians (they've got bigger columns but they're made from several disparate pieces).
I visited a couple of other sites around town. By the standard of antiquities I'm used to from the Middle East they were nothing special.
But I was very pleased by the stellae field. It had made the gruelling trip worthwhile.
Back to Shire the next day. I found the Polish Delegation still entrenched at the hotel. Jarek had got worse after I'd left. The sickness was taking a toll on him and the stress on Aldonna and Martin.
I felt kind of lame talking about my little jaunt out to Axum with Jarek lying there completely incapacitated. I could sympathise with him tough, I've been there a few times on this trip.
The doctor came in the afternoon and gave him a glucose injection and an antibiotic injection. He'd had to do so as Jarek hadn't been able to hold anything down besides plain water for 2 days. He also wasn't sure what Jarek had as the blood tests had come back all clear. I wasn't surprised at this - I knew the quality of rural Ethiopian medical labs from my "clear" test in Gambella.
When I said my farewells that evening he was noticeably better. He'd held down some malaria medicine and some rice. I told them I'd write when I got to Khartoum so they could let me know how he was. Hopefully I'll hear something in the next couple of days.
I was almost triumphant on the journey back to Gondar the next morning. The bus was new and I had the best seat in the bus. Instead of worrying that my friend was going to go into a coma next to me I got to admire the incredible scenery as we drove through Simien National Park and the engineering quality of the Italian built road (which has hardly been modified by the Ethiopians in over 60 years despite being one of the main routes in the country).
Back in Gondar I met up with the guys and swapped adventures. They'd spent the past 4 days ferreting out the best value food and beer in the city so we lived well for our last 2 nights in the country.
The run to the Sudan border and arrival in Khartoum I'll write about tomorrow as I'm almost out of time for today. But I will note down a few final thoughts.
I've had a fantastic time in Ethiopia. I won't miss it though (except the cheap draft beer and amazing scenery). Its hard work and the disrepectful people make it damn difficult. 90% of them mean well but having a couple of hundred random people a day yelling out "You, you, faranji, faranji, where you go?" at you every day for 2 and a half months really wears you down.
The country has so much potential: incredible natural resources (don't believe the needing food bullshit - there's more than enough food there to feed the population if the government pulled finger), good education system, intelligent middle class.
It seems to be wallowing in its own misery though. People would rather put the hand out than pick up a hoe. Mike has been to almost 50 countries and thinks they are possibly the laziest people on the planet.
Who knows? Maybe one day they will get a government who really wants to pull their country out of the quagmire its in instead of keeping it there by ignoring its people and fighting pointless border wars with its neighbours.
Its probably not going to happen while the West keeps giving aid money to maintain the status quo - a status quo which is keeping a few people rich and our consciences clean.
I know that the sight of a blind 5 year old boy dressed in rags, standing in front of me on a bus with his hand out, saying "Money, money", for 25 minutes because I have white skin and the other people on the bus have black skin will haunt me for the rest my life.
