Read about Ron & Viv's journey so far through Africa - Southern ETHIOPIA to Addis Ababa - early to mid August 2007.
Ethiopia
The remains of what was once an Italian stronghold during WWII.
Local village shop front.
A young Arbore boy fully decorated and ready for any passing tourist with a birr to spend.
They put on a traditional dance, which they seemed to enjoy – Hamer women; 3 young kids enjoying the dancing.
The nearby village of Kolcho is set back a short distance from a high cliff overlooking a U-bend of the Omo River - Koro man (with gun).
Biruk with a couple of the local young Koro boys.
On the banks of the Omo River, and a canoe trip across the river to a village of the local Dhasanech/Galeb people.
Demelash Habtie Teferadegne OIC (back), and Admassu Tesfaye (front) the 2IC and head nurse of the health centre showed us around the Centre and the patients they had – this girl had come in suffering from cerebral maleria (she was lucky to be alive!!)
The Health Clinic at Keyafer – Viv & Helen handing over some handknitted garmets that Helen and Viv's Mum had knitted – they were most appreciative.
Konso boys ploughing the field with their cattle.
A beautiful sunset above the clouds on our drive back into Shasemene.
AFRICA TRIPEarly to Mid August – Southern Ethiopia to Addis Ababa
We were sill working our way thru' Ethiopian Customs – a fairly laid back affair with pleasant helpful people when we were approached by Biruk Desalegn , a freelance tour guide to the Omo Valley (ph: +254 725 27 18 01, email: elsabiruk@yahoo.com ), PO Box 135, Moyale Ethiopia. He seemed pretty nice with good English, so we hired him for the next few days – US$20/person/day, which sounded a fair price and we didn't even barter, so he was happy - it worked out well!!
Headed off and wound our way thru the people, carts, sheep, cattle and goats that were already crowding the main street – a few signs in English but most were in the unique script of Amharic that along with the Amharic language, is based on the ancient Ge'ez language which helps make Ethiopia so interesting and unique amongst African countries. Add to that a number of ancient cultures with their traditional attire and beliefs, a Christian religion that dates back to the dawn of Christianity, while the country was never subjugated to colonial rule (although the Italians tried in the 1930's but didn't have much luck) or missionaries. Then there are the fantastic monuments, castles and churches (does the fabled Ark of the Covenant still reside in one of the rock hewn churches? Many Ethiopians believe it does) along with an unusual and varied cuisine that has won world wide acclaim.
Then there is their calendar which is seven years behind ours (the new Ethiopian millennia - year 2000 - begins in September this year, I think), while their daily time starts, not from midnight, but from 6am – which means 10am our time, is 4am their time!
Added to all that is the grandeur of the natural scenery, some of the world's most unique and rare wildlife … and 73 million people crammed in to a country twice the size of Texas - or the size of South Australia! Yep, it sure is different.
Headed north along the bitumen road – which would be called a nd rate one in Aussie but was the best we have travelled on for some time – at least the potholes had been patched! We cruised along at 90-110kph!!! Passed thru a few towns and villages but the traffic on the road was minimal (which was good as the road was a tight fit for two vehicles ) while the countryside was cultivated in places with large areas of scrubland that was heavily cut for firewood and charcoal and used for grazing.
Got to Mega at topped 6000 feet or more, the country quite lush and heavily farmed. On the north side of town on top of a dominant hill is the remains of an old (1930's) Italian fort . There's not much left but we stopped and took a few pics before pushing on.
At Yabello we pulled in for fuel and a quick bite to eat. Biruk bought a plate of ‘mesto' - spicy goat meat on top of a traditional flat bread – Injera bread made from the grain called ‘tef' – the spicy meat was yum, the bread so so! The fuel was just 5.7EtBirr/litre, which is about 75cents Aussie – you bloody beauty! The Yabello motel (GPS 4°53'01”N 38°8'25”E) where you can camp is right beside the fuel outlet on the major intersection. It is well set-up with meals and drinks and good facilities.
From Yabello we headed west thru pretty high country which was well vegetated and along what was a pretty good dirt road towards the Omo Valley.
Konso People
The countryside from south of the Kenyan border north to Yabello and west to the small village near the Segen Bridge, the river acting as a boundary is the tribal lands of the Borena (sometimes spelt Borana) people who are semi nomadic cattle and goat herders. North of the river thru' Korso to Weito Bridge is the land of the Konso people and these people looked a lot poorer than the Borena people we had seen.
To Weyto Village
Headed off for the long drive to Weyto (sometimes spelt Weito) climbing the range, which was drier now. In parts the steep hillsides were terraced by low rock walls so that crops could be grown in the poor soils – a lot of work went into them (see our entry later when we came back thru this region)!
Had a puncture and had to change a tyre – the first one for the trip which is pretty bloody good considering the two vehicles have each done around 33,000km on these Cooper STT's. That's been over some appalling roads and tracks and we've been heavily loaded (each vehicle weighs around 4 tonne) for all that time. We had rotated the tyres in Nairobi and the wear between front and back had evened out – with about 7mm of tread left, or just over half, on all eight tyres for both Neil's Ford and our Patrol.
The radiator was standing up fine so our repair looks good! Neil hit a goat – they aren't supposed to be on the road but they are everywhere – out in the countryside or in the smallest village or town. They ignore a vehicle much of the time and it is almost impossible to miss all of them.
Tshemay (pronounced ‘Sameye') people
Crossed the Weito River which is the boundary of the Upper and Lower Omo Valley's and now we were in the land of the traditional Tshemay (pronounced ‘Sameye') people . The sun was close to setting as we dropped into the major depression of the Rift Valley and the scene was very spectacular. We stopped for a few minutes to take a pic.
Got to Weyto and pulled into the Hor Restaurant (GPS 4°53'01”N 38°8'25”E) and camp for the night. Cold showers, flush toilets (when they work), Kimberley cool beer, and a restaurant. Set up camp, had a shower and then went and had tea. Once again Biruk (pronounced ‘Brook') ordered tea – a plate of Tibs - a tasty dish of little cubes of fried meat.
Wandered down to the local village that sits on the outskirts of town. These are Tshemay people and they live a very traditional semi-nomadic life grazing their stock and growing a bit of maize. The trappings of a modern world are few – an odd alloy pot for brewing their traditional coffee along with a few plastic water containers – that's about it.
Their huts are built from sticks and brush and consist of a round sleeping area abouit 20-feet in diameter and about 5-foot high, which seems to be wind and waterproof, while attached to most of these is a thinner rectangular construction of twigs and branches that acts as a kitchen and living area. Here they cook their food on a small wooden fire, while sitting on low wooden stools, yarning to their family.
For the most part the women are naked from the waist up apart from their beads and jewelry. The kids, especially the boys are completely naked. They all knew the value of a photograph (2 Birr/pic) and kept us on our toes as we tried to take pics of them. You had to select who you wanted in a very meat market sort of way, get them to stand to one side, take a pic or two, then pay for the privilege before moving on to take another pic. At least we didn't have to run the gauntlet of a line of people wanting to sell you stuff!
You pay an entrance fee to the village, as well as money for any pics taken – that was the norm for all the villages we visited – wish it had been more like the Himba & Massai Villages we visited where you paid one fee and that got you into the village, with a look around and any pics or video you wanted. Mind you, you didn't have to walk the gaunlet of trinkets for sale, but we think we would have rathered that than the melee of taking pics.
Arbore people
Checked thru another police road block at Arebore (no worries with Biruk paving the way) and then stopped to photograph some well adorned Arbore People; boys and a women. With a crowd of village kids we headed on a short distance to another village where we were swamped with people of all ages wanting their photo taken. It was bloody bedlam and very daunting but Biruk sorted it out and we took a few pics and a scant bit of video (they didn't want it used) before Viv got roped into helping a young boy who had crook eyes. Before long there was a queue of kids and old men wanting eye drops all crowding around Viv – she was allowed to take a bit of video for her help, which was nice. We never got anywhere near the village proper though!
To Turmi Village and the Hamer people
As we headed south the road parallels the large flat expanse of Lake Stephanie , with the rugged, scrub covered range country off to our west. Now we were in the lands of the Hamer People and we soon passed a man, armed with an SKS (or AK47) and we stopped for a photograph. His ammo belt was full and we paid him a few Birr and gave him a few smokes and some lollies and he was very happy.
Got to the village of Turmi and pulled into the Evangadi Lodge (GPS 4°58'08”N 36°29'47”E) basically as you come into the township proper and there were a few travellers and overlanders already set up in the large pleasant camping area. The camp has a bar and restaurant, cold showers and (bucket) flush loos. Camping costs just 50birr (A$6.50)each.
Turmi, as it turned out is probably the major tourist town in the region and as it is central to the many tribes in the Omo Valley it is used by a number of operators as a base camp for day trips out to the different people. Because of that there are a few camps and lodges in and around the town. Nothing fancy (maybe a 1-star hotel in tourist speak, at best) but aimed at the White tourist none-the-less. A few stores selling basic goods and a couple of bars, local hotels and places to eat, along with a police post, but no fuel, make up the rest of the town.
At 5pm we headed over to the Hamer village which is only a few hundred metres away and watched them dance. We walked thru the village and there were a couple of women sorting out grain and another sowing up a goatskin for a dress and once again the trappings of a modern world were just an alloy pot or two and the ever present and valuable water drum.
The dance we watched is done after a good harvest or whenever good times have occurred and the boys and men and girls and women doing it were really enjoying it. It is quite suggestive at times. Young boys and girls were also joining in, or doing their own version off to one side. Squatting around the periphery of the dances were a few older men, some with an AK47 tucked between their legs or stuck in the ground with its bayonet beside them.
As we wandered back to camp we met a women carrying a 20-litre drum of water and another a pile of wood on her back. I chatted to the water carrier for a while – me in English and she in her own language – we laughed a bit and she played music on her bangles on her arms and although we didn't understand much of what the other said it was a very pleasant encounter. She probably thought, ‘Crazy white man!'
Next day we headed north east about 70km, descending into the Rift Valley, which gave us spectacular views across the valley of the Omo River. Crossed the Klizo River , which is quite a large stream with high steep banks, but it was just a trickle; even so the river is the boundary between the Hamer and the Karo people.
Karo people and village of Kolcho
Got to Murulle Lodge and Ethiopian Rift Valley Safaris, (GPS 5°09'50”N 36°11'37”E) which is run by a Greek bloke by all accounts. It is mainly a hunting camp= but open for normal tourists – at US$200/night, but I've got to say the camp looks a bit tired and old while the rooms, by all accounts, are pretty plain. Set on the very edge of the Omo River it would get flooded pretty often, but at least the whole camp is shaded by big trees. Camping is pretty expensive – supposedly US$8/person per night but we got away for half of that. There's a bit of shade, flush toilets and cold showers for your money, but no access to the lodge area!
The Omo River is wide (500-700 metres), muddy, and flowing very quickly. It's after the ‘Big rains' and later in the year it will slow but wont stop flowing. There are lots of crocs in the river, but no hippos, by all accounts. I guess they have been shot out during the poaching wars back in the 70s and 80s – along with much of the wildlife in the area and in the NPs that are part of the Omo Valley further north. With a bit more protection these days the animal life is coming back in these wilder remoter areas but with the burgeoning human population, you wonder what the end game will be.
The Karo village of Kolcho is set back a short distance from a high cliff overlooking a U-bend of the Omo River. It was a top looking spot. As we pulled up, the kids came out to meet us. We wandered over to the huts of the village and after a bit of discussion about video (no filming) (Viv not happy – you pay a village entrance fee, as well as money for pics!!) we had our meat market of people – young and old, happy and crotchety, the fit and the infirm all wanting their photo taken for just 2birr - kids were 1Birr. We took a few pics but none of the village itself and then headed back to the ‘safety' of the cars as the ‘in your face' style of requesting a photo being taken gets very wearing and intimidating at times.
Biruk purchased a goat (200Birr– A$26) from the village and it was brought back to camp. Pretty expensive, but they knew it was for the ‘white people', so the price was raised accordingly. We were to have an traditional feast – all meat – sharing with Biruk's tour guide friends and the Belgium women traveling with them. The goat was an old male and was obviously a prolific breeder as he was well hung, but like all, he was now past his prime and heading for the pot. He was quickly dispatched (Helen couldn't watch and even one of the native boys helping had his hand over his eyes while the throat was cut) and skun before being cut into quarters and squewered on stakes which were placed around a well burning, but not large fire. It was cooked over the next couple of hours (at least it was ‘cooked' and not raw) and then it was cut into small pieces and given to us. It was tough, a bit ‘gamey' and there was a fair amount of half cooked fat on it and there was nothing to go with it apart from salt and pepper! Helen, who doesn't eat much meat at all, done well to eat the meat that was piled onto her plate. Any of our scraps we had were rescued from the fire when we threw them away, or when we handed them over they were devoured by the few staff that had come down for the feast. The black guys (there were no women) including our crew and Biruk's friends loved the meat – ‘perfecto' was heard more than once. There was nothing left of the goat; even the skull was skinned and placed in the coals of the fire where it was well cooked and eaten by one of the guys. It quite an experience and one the buys enjoyed sharing with us. The crew also bought a bottle of wine, which wasn't half bad. It was late – well after 9pm when we called it quits and went off to bed to leave the guys still eating and yarning.,
Next morning the rubbish bag we dumped here was gone thru' and any plastic bag was rescued and washed, while any scraps were taken back to be used by the animals or the staff! Hell they see us Whiteys as a wasteful lot … and we are!
To Deminka and its market
We then headed for Demika and its market as it was a Tuesday. As we passed the villages along the way, or came to a road junction we had the kids dancing in front of the bulbar, or running beside the window begging for pens, money, or for us to take a photo.
At Demika we parked the vehicles in the police station yard for security and went over to a local restaurant where we had a traditional lunch time meal of Njera bread (pancake) (that we were beginning to dislike - too much of a good thing!! ) and a range of ‘wat' – a variety of sauces (many bean based). One thing is for sure, there's plenty of choices for vegetarians, and meals are cheap.
Wandered thru' the Demika market which was only small taking up a village block but there was a lot of different stuff for sale. Bundles of wood were waiting to be sold, while one group of Hamer women were selling ground red ochre that was spread on a hesian bag in front of them; others (it was a Hamer market) were selling curious, beads and material; one older women was selling a range of spices that were laid out in bags (she wanted 2Birr for a photograph); some were selling fruit, there was quite a range of coffee husks for sale while others had tobacco leaf. Small groups of cattle and goats were wandering thru the whole scene, but we wasn't too sure whether they were for sale or not.
To Omorate and the Dhasanech / Galeb people
Then we headed back to Turmi along the same road, passed thru the police roadblock and took the good dirt road to Omorate , which is a ‘border town' even though it is 30km north of the Kenya border - it has the border post, (GPS 4°48'20”N 36°03'05”E) the OIC being a good friend of Burik. The town, which is only small, is also located on the Omo River and acts as a gateway to the village of the Dhasanech / Galeb people . The river here is about 400 yards wide and flows swiftly and muddy.
Back in the time of a socialist government in Ethiopia the area was also the centre of a large irrigation scheme, which was built and financed by the Korean government. Today you can still see the machined flat plains along with the now silted-up canals running thru them for miles; the power station on the outskirts of town, which was used to pump water along with the power lines running from it, have fallen into complete disrepair. The many tractors and trucks used in this once important operation are lined up in rows with grass and trees growing amongst them. Interestingly the office is still manned and a few people still go out to work the government plots – on the only tractor still running - but not much is grown – or has been grown here for over 15 years!
We went down to the river and here was a staging point for the dug-out canoes that ferried people across the river to the villages on the other side. These canoes, made from a big log and about 15-foot long or so, sit low in the water and roll quite a bit but the helmsman is very well practiced and soon had us ferry gliding across the wide, swiftly flowing stream to the other side. Only a little water slopped in! The price was a pretty hefty 40Birr each for a return trip - I bet the locals don't pay anything like that.
We then got slugged a 100Burr a couple to go to the Dhasanech / Galeb village as well, this being paid to the group of elders (all men) sitting under a shady bough shelter just up from the river. Once we started heading to the village, which is located about 100 metres back from the low banks of the Omo River and most definitely on the river's floodplain, we were surrounded by kids, women with babies, old hags, old men, the sick, the lame and the misfortunate – all wanting their photo taken!
We only stayed a short time, took a couple of pics (Neil and Helen had decided they didn't want to take pics or video anymore) and wandered back to the canoe for the trip across the river. Once back we went to the local hotel for a cool drink and Viv near collapsed there. We got her back to the camp – she had been out in the hot sun for the last two hours – it had been hot all day, she had put a big cut in her head earlier that day, stopping for a ‘wee' and walking too close to a very large thorn on a thorn tree (lots of blood, and a headache – it cleaned up and healed well!!), our air conditioning in the car wasn't working and she hadn't drunk much.
Back towards Turmi
Next morning on our way back to Turmi we stopped to photograph a local with his cattle and then a couple of young girls. One was in more traditional garb with all her belongs wrapped in an animal skin all carried on her head. By all accounts her family were shifting their hut, belongings and stock to a new area for better grazing. She liked seeing her photo in the camera but interestingly it was her friend she gave the money to when I paid her the 2Birr.
Passed a few other gun totting cattle herders as we headed back east and a few scattered collections of huts – family groups you couldn't call them villages. Stopped in Turmi at the local hotel for a cool drink. The girls who came out of the rooms – one wearing a see-thru top – were definitely not house cleaners!
Headed along the road to Demika – the road being a lot quieter than the day before when it was market day and all the kids were out waiting for us tourist to pass by. Demika was also pretty quiet and we quickly passed thru the town heading towards Key Afar (or Keyafer).
To Keyafer and its market – and Banna People
At one stage as we crested a low hill a group of three kids down the bottom near the creek saw us, shed their clothes – blankets really – and started to dance – this happens all the time so it wasn't anything really new, it was just these three were so vibrant … and funny with the shedding of the clothes bit! The older one was well painted too and their antics got us to stop. We filmed then and took a couple of pics and paid them a Birr each and gave them a pen. They were ecstatic!
There are a few hotels in the town but few with secure parking so Biruk convinced the 2IC and head nurse of the health centre, Admassu Tesfaye, to allow us to camp in the grounds (GPS 5°31'11”N 36°44'01”E). We were only there a few minutes and a tour operator mate of Biruk asked how he could camp there, so he moved in – to a resounding pop of a radiator hose in the old 60 series he was driving.
As we set up camp a woman got carried in on a litter – she had been carried in from a village out of town suffering, as we found out later, blood poisoning, which had resulted in her not being able to walk. This is typical of the problems that this small health centre cares for – after malaria, intestinal worms and dysentery.
Demelash Habtie Teferadegne (email: demelash.dnh@yahoo.com ; ph:+251 (0) 912 150 397) was the OIC of the place as we found out later in the evening. He was a delightful bloke and we got on well.
Helen and Viv handed over some goodies to Demelash and Admussa – little knitted jumpers and caps for the babies that will be born here, which was received most gratefully. Then we took a couple of pics and then we were given a guided tour of the centre. It may have been a bit basic as far as Australian standard bush hospitals are concerned but it was all they had for the whole area and serviced about 43,000 people. One women was on an IV drip – she had been brought in unconscious suffering from cerebral malaria a few days previously and had been saved. She wasn't great but her prognosis was good. The other women who had been carried in the evening before was suffering from blood poisoning which had blown her knees and legs up, the former to the size of a small football – not good for a nomad who has to walk km to get water or to collect firewood.
If anybody would like to help this very important health centre you can try the contacts above or write to: SNNRP, c/- South Omo Zone Health Department, Bena Stemay Key Afar Health Centre, PO Box 121, Arba Minch, Ethiopia . It would be well received and would save a life or two, or make someones life a little easier. For more pics and info on the Health Centre, go to Keyafer Health Clinic page.
And as the UN and the NGO's (CARE, Feed the Children, etc, etc) drive around in their brand new 100 Series Land Cruisers (and we have seen dozens let alone elsewhere) there's not even an ambulance in the whole Omo Valley area of Ethiopia. Oh, and the UN are having a meeting in Addis at the moment about helping the poor tribal people of Ethiopia and northern Kenya – guess where? The Hilton! No wonder many people become very disillusioned with the goings on of the UN and all the NGO's who hang on its coat tails. We met one ex UN-worker who had been responsible for getting aid into the Sudan a few years ago and he was most disparaging about them – reckoned the whole lot should be ‘nuked'! And we've met many other locals and ex-pats who feel the same!
Viv, Helen and I then headed for the Key Afar market (held on a Thursday) (Neil had had enough of people and decided to stay back and ‘guard' the vehicles), which still wasn't at full swing but was busy enough for us. I bought a traditional stool/head rest and Viv bought some beads. Took a few pics of the crowds coming into town for the market. It was going to be a big day!
Back to Weyto (or Weito)
Headed off on the main road to Weito, which is being upgraded in a big way and we travelled on road works or detours for the whole way. In fact we travelled on roads that were being built for the whole day – we didn't see one section of ‘finished' road – it just doesn't make sense as the Long Rains (and Short Rains to a lesser degree) knock hell out of the half completed roads each year!
We came across a young pretty women in her traditional finery carrying her honey and butter to the market and we stopped and photographed her. She loved seeing herself in the camera.
Konso country
Stopped on the ridge overlooking the Weito River Valley for lunch. Now we were back in the territory of the Konso people. This country of the Konso People is heavily cultivated and we saw a lot less cattle grazing and no herders with guns. Now some of the bullocks were being used to pull a plough and there was a bit of that going on around the small farms on the mainly steep hillsides. There was a lot of terracing and this increased as we got closer to the important town of Konso. We stopped to take a couple of pics – one of some kids ploughing a field and another of a women carrying a huge bundle of green twigs and brush.
Crested the hill to the busy market of Konso – it was very crowded with people and we wended our way thru and headed down the hill and then turned north thru' cultivated country to Arba Minch. Nearly every piece of arable land was ploughed and planted but in places on the steep slopes bordering the rivers or streams the erosion was very bad. Some of the erosion gullies were 10 metres deep – near canyons really – cut by the fast flowing waters. The ‘rich red soils of Ethiopia' are finding their way into the lakes of the Rift Valley or north carried by the Nile to Sudan and Egypt. I guess that has been going on for thousands of years but it is probably worse than it has ever been and they will need to do something about it as they are loosing valuable agricultural land! In places they have tried to stop the erosion but they need better farming practices from the start.
Arba Minch
Climbed the hill to Arba Minch , which is a town in two parts (like Konso) with one part on the top of the ridge; the other down on the flat plains bordering the lake. Turned off the main road and headed down the rutted dusty street and stopped at the Bekele Molla Hotel and set up camp (GPS 6°00'20”N 37°33'06”E) overlooking the two lakes of Lake Abaya and Lake Chamo and linking Nechisar NP – it was quite a pleasant view but it was very cloudy. By all accounts these lakes are home to some of the biggest crocs in Africa – they probably get to feed on a few of the local cattle as well as the locals going by the NP requirement of not entering the park on your own because of ‘getting lost or eaten by crocs!”
We had tea at the hotel, which was a western style meal (Viv had fish and chips and I had beef and chips) and they were very nice – all for about 35Birr (A$4.30) each. The menu wasn't too bad in fact and the prices, to our Western eyes, bloody fantastic.
To Shasemene and Kofele
At one point along the main road – which was bitumised but was becoming potholey – a stream had burst its banks and was roaring across the road and had washed much of the downhill side away. Buses and trucks were queued up waiting to go across, broken down after getting across, or just waiting for the river to drop. There were people everywhere and a policeman. We wound our way thru and drove across – it was pretty deep in parts and shows the problem they have of when it rains and the rivers rush down – they take most of what is in front of them. In fact we had passed and crossed so many streams in the past week that once had bridges and now were just a rough muddy crossing passable when it was dry or near dry.
Stopped for fuel at Soddo, then Burik wanted some breakfast/brunch so we stopped in the centre of town and went to the Memories Hotel, which seemed to consist of about 6-8 rooms (as well as an outdoor verandah out the back) where you could sit and have a meal or a drink. It was busy and when you saw the spread the cooks had set up for a meal in one of the back rooms you could understand why. This is a 7-day a week operation and from early until late. The food was a variety of spicy bean dishes, salads, breads of varying sorts, potatoes and chips the table groaning under the weight of the delightful and colourful food. Burik said ‘You do as I do” but I couldn't take as much food as he. The food was quite good – the bread and chips especially along with the spicy tea. Viv filmed the cook and his spread and I took a couple of pics.
As we headed to Kulito the amount of people heading into town - and from the town - was an unending stream of humanity with hundreds of donkey drawn or horse drawn carts amongst the streaming masses. It was unbelievable - but Fridays are always a BIG market day!
Kofele and meeting Biruk's parents
Headed to Kofele, where Biruk's parents still live. He had rung them earlier to let them know he was bringing a few guests to see them. It started to rain big time as we climbed the hills outside Shasemene, which is located at around 6,000 feet but we climbed to around 8,000', the dirt road soon running a torrent and you needed 4WD it was so slippery and muddy. Once again the road was under construction with detours and the like – but like before most of the roadworks were being washed away.
We got to the village and then found our way down a back alley, passed the local market and down another backstreet to his parents place where there were dozens of kids, yelling “You, You, You” Give me Money!” We were the centre of attention with the gathering crowd but we were quickly ushered into the small house that borders onto the muddy but once was cobblestone narrow street.
We met his Mum, Tshgye Tirunsh, and then his dad, Deslagn Mekonin, came in well wrapped up to protect himself from the rain and cool weather – then he went out to look after the vehicles. There was a main living room/dining area and beside that the main bedroom separated by a curtain. We were given a couple of well padded and nice stools while a bench seat was pulled out for them. His Mumserved up a meal of local bread, nice bread rolls, spicy beans, spaghetti, potato and salad. At one stage Tshgye fed us, putting the food in our mouths – which is the custom, then Deslagn brought us some sodas. It was very, very nice of them as they certainly don't have much money. When Biruk gave his Mum 200birr (about A$26) she was so humble it was unbelievable. Viv gave Tshgye a scarf her mum had knitted from all of us as a gift for their generosity.
Shasemene
Got back to Shasemene and it seemed even busier than it was earlier – it was Friday night so it was ‘party night' and we booked into the Bekele Molla Hotel – a room costing just 60Birr (A$7.80) a night – for the two of us and with a hot shower … and importantly clean sheets! Why do we camp???? Mind you the rooms and general demeanor of the place is a bit run down but for less than 10 bucks, what the hell – they are clean!
Awasa
Next day headed down to Awasa and found our way to the lake's edge where the boat hire is located - back up the road is the dominant golden domes of St Gabriel Church. There's a guesthouse located back from the water's edge with camping. Now owned by an English women the place was a building yard when we were there, so we went and found our way to our campsite.
The Adenium Campsite (GPS 7°04'37”N 38°29'03”E) (Ph: 091 682 3265) is set one road back from the main street a couple of km north of the lakeside boat hire. There's good accommodation and a small camping area with hot showers, flush toilets, communal kitchen and laundry, owned and run by Jana Franke, but she will be leaving Ethiopia soon for an extended time, so the place may be running in a year's time or it may not!
While at Adenium we were treated to a traditional coffee ceremony , which was quite interesting and took about 40 minutes or more and as Ethiopia is the original home of coffee, these guys have a deep tradition with drinking the liquid and they now grow and make some of the best coffee in the world. First the girl, dressed in traditional Ethiopian clothes, set up the incense burner and coal-fired roaster, along with the coffee cups on a bed of flowers fresh picked from the garden Then the beans were roasted on a metal plate above smoldering coals laced with incense; the beans were then allowed to cool and then they were ground into a powder, then make the coffee before pouring the fairly thick dark black liquid into a very small cup – A ‘Strong Black' Ethiopian style. Enjoyed the coffee while yarning to Jana – even Viv and Helen had a cup and while it is a little bitter on its own, a spoon of sugar - which they have and use in quantities - soon made it taste very nice.
On to Addis Ababa
Next day we headed back to Shashemene and dropped Biruk off then we headed north out of town. I gave up on the driving and let Viv drive for nearly all the way to Addis as I was feeling crook. When we got to the outskirts of Addis I took over the driving again while Viv done a great job navigating through the suburbs into the heart of the city at Meskal Square and then onto our hotel.
The countryside we passed through for the entire way was either flat or lightly undulating and it was heavily cultivated with crops of tef, maize and more. There were also a few large freshwater lakes along the way and there was the occasional small fishing boat with nets pulled up on the shore. Mind you I didn't see too much of it. Viv got pissed off with the young boys who were wielding homemade whips (which they use on the cattle, donkeys and goats) – they thought it was good fun to hit the vehicles with the whip as we passed – Viv wasn't impressed!! We got hit a few times.
We've also had our fair share of stone wielding youths as we've driven along the roads – if you don't stop and give them something, they respond by throwing stones (even big rocks). Our sling shot is coming out and they'll get back what they give!!
The Baro Hotel (GPS 9°1'51”N 38°45'13”E) is a downmarket little place in the backstreets of the Piazza area just north of the centre of Addis, but it is the one that most of the overlanders seem to head for. There's a small secure carpark but you'd be hard pushed to put up a tent although I'm assured it's possible. Anyway at 100Birr (A$13) a night for their ‘fancier' and larger double-bed rooms with en-suite it's hardly an issue. There's a small restaurant and DSTV and the staff are friendly and helpful.
But the Sheraton it ain't! Our room had a reasonable mattress, the sheets were clean, but the walls were pot-marked with dodgey plaster repairs, the roof was stained where it had been wet, there was a musty smell about the whole place, while the carpet looked like a Harley Davidson rider had rebuilt an engine or two there. It did have electricity but the switches hung out from the walls on a foot or so of barely insulated cable and while the en-suite had running water (most of the time) and a flush toilet that gurgled a lot, you'd have to be very, very lucky to get a hot shower.
Anyway we stayed. Had lunch out at the cars as we couldn't get a room until 6pm. ‘Strange' , we thought as the rooms were empty. Then when we got the rooms the penny dropped. The rooms come supplied with condoms. Friends and lovers can share a bit of time here we guessed, and as prostitution is not frowned on in any way in Ethiopia – it is seen as a fair way for a women to earn a few dollars while for young men it is a near ‘rite-of-passage' to manhood, normally paid for by an older relative – the rooms probably get used for a bit of horizontal polka during the day.
Next day saw us at the Egyptian embassy and a few banks while we also went to the fancy, plush Sheraton Addis for morning tea! The traffic in Addis is not as maniac as Nairobi or Kampala and there's not as many kamikaze drivers either, which is nice. Now we wait for our Visas for the Sudan before we head north!
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Biruk, our Ethiopian guide for the Omo Valley.
A young Konso woman carries a huge pile of sticks back to her village hut .
Biruk with Neil, Viv & Helen on the road to Weyto.
Sunset on the road to Weyto, our first camp and visit to the Tshemay people.
The local Tsemay village and its inhabitants.
Next stop, on the road to Turmi and the local tribal group, the Hamer; we met lots of men carrying guns (there is still a lot of fighting amongst tribes - not tourists! ).
Headed northeast into the Rift Valley, and the valley of the Omo River and the land of the Karo people.
The wide expanse of the Omo River at our camp at Murulle Lodge.
A goat BBQ – Ehtiopian style (the goat was pretty old, and chewy!!!)
The busy Demika market, where the locals come to sell their wares; Viv trying to negotiate to buy one of the beaded back skirts of the Hamer woman – no luck!!
A very old and wrinkled Dhasanech woman.
The market at Keyafer
An attractive Banna girl on her way to market
Stopped at a little hotel in Soddo for Biruk's brunch – and what a spread at the Memories Hotel – Viv with the head chef.
Biruk with his Mum, Viv, Helen & Neil, eating the delicious meal that she had prepared for our visit.
A traditional coffee making ceremony – it was really good, even Viv & Helen, who don't drink coffe, enjoyed it.
Our hotel in Addis Ababa – the Baro Hotel and Viv in our salubrious (very basic) room working on the computer and the next web pages; washing drying on the roofs – Ethiopian style at the hotel..
