ETHIOPIA AT LAST!

Well as can be expected, we arrived in Nairobi in one piece. Flights were uneventful. I had a bit of a light Altzheimer moment at ORT. Packed all my wonderful hair products in my hand luggage, forgetting that one is not allowed more than 100ml per container. I did a double take, asked the guy if I could go back out, which I dually did and then went into problem solve mode. I was a bit lost for a solution in the short term, but then I remembered that there is a Woolies at ORT .Off I went to get little bottles, promptly sat down at the “to go” counter and decanted by shampoo, etc. I them asked for a manager and asked him to keep my stuff until we return on 9 Sept. Had a well deserved, very expensive G+T after that.

Arrived at Nairobi to typical airport chaos, many different Q’s, many different instructions, many unavailable papers that needed to be completed however we got through and was picked up with our Land Rover by the guy who used it before us. This was the easy bit. We then went into Nairobi, in the dark and in rush hour traffic. This lasts about 4 hours in the morning and likewise in the afternoon. Well, anybody who has ever complained about taxis or mini busses in SA should come and experience Nairobi traffic. It is CHAOS. If there are any traffic rules, it is clearly not like we understand it, or the only rule that there is, is that there is no rule. The next day Dick had to drive. He was anxious, but within a few hours was doing as badly as everybody else. Not staying in a lane, no waiting or giving way, hooting like a taxi. Somehow, I think he enjoyed it all. The next day in Nairobi was spent getting new tyres and doing our first lot of shopping. Despite the decision to go without wine for the month, a box of Namaqua red found its way into the trolley. We were just a bit “home sick”. Anyway we had been drinking Johannesberger red at the Backpackers. The Namaqua red was definite step up. That is a separate story!

On Friday morning we left Nairobi for Isiolo, mostly on tar, until about the last 15 km. When we hit gravel and that was the state of affairs for the next 2 days, anyway we slept in Isiolo for the evening in the courtyard of the hotel. It is one of those sixties saloon type places which had the outside entertaining area. It also appeared to have been last used in the sixties. All was a little “bouvallig”. Not to worry, we settled in ever so smartly for the night. The hotel manager, Joel, came to welcome us, the barman came to welcome us and no less than 3 security guards came to ensure us that we would be safe for the night. We even had a veranda, where we set up everything and cooked, etc. It was the first night in our roof top tent. Next morning we set off. Not too many showers along the way and loos are a bit of a “grillerige storie”
The night in Isiolo was strange in the sense that the world is so different. The Imam called several times from the nearby Mosque, the wind blew nonstop and made the strangest noises throughout the night and the motorbikes, read 125cc, went up and down. They are actually taxis. In the early morning we were wake up by the mosque caller again. The sound system was a bit dodgy, so it was truly a wakeup call. After all the needed good-bys to manager and guards, we were off on the “road to hell”, otherwise also called the road to Marsabit. We shook and hopped, we dodged and hung on and we ate DUST. There was not a place where we did not have dust in by the end of the day. As you might well be aware, there are many stories about the danger of this road. Well many people had assured us that it is perfectly safe, however when we arrived at Archer’s Post, about 50 km from Isiolo, we stopped and a local guy came to discuss the state of affairs. He told us that we should have a guard, etc, etc,etc. We played along and off we went to the Police, with him on the bonet. On arriving at the police station, we were met by several officers and other important looking people. Yes, we needed protection, but no, they are sorry, there are no guards available as they had all already been deployed for the day, but the district officer will be able to help, so off we went, guide on bumper and all. Arriving at the DO’s office, he had to be called and yes, we are not safe on our own and they care about our safety and we as Europeans are more at risk. How much for all this protection? KSh3000/= (Kenya Shillings), plus/minus R300, at which stage I declined the offer on our behalf and told him that I will just pray and I know that God will protect us. There was a bit of an attempt at God only protects those who take care, but clearly he did not understand faith the way I do. We all parted good friends. Them KSh3000/= poorer and us much happier. We arrived in Marsabit very tired, very dusty and sort of “gatvol” of the day. Booked in at the Mount Marsabit National Reserve Camp 2 for the night. Cost us $30 . Nice place, with shower or toilet!!! No water in shower and one of those hole in floor, squat toilets. This is taking some getting used to! Lovely lapa, though. Baboons by the troop, plenty birds and a warning of visiting hyenas at night. They didn’t come, though.

After a good night’s sleep, we were off on part 2 of the road to hell. Well, if we thought the previous day, was bad, the best was yet to come. We had to travel 260 km of which 120 was BADDER than BAD. How Dick managed to keep the Land Rover on the road I do not know. In saying this, I have to add that some of the local guys, travel at neck breaking and back breaking speed (Some claim 130kph!). We have decided that there can be no 2nd car market in Kenya, because all the cars are driven into the ground from new. Despite the road, the scenery is spectacular and very very varied. We saw easily more than 1500 camels, being herded in the desert. It was mind blowing. It looked like in Lawrence of Arabia! We also saw huge herds of cattle. Thin, but looking good. The tribe of the North of Kenya and the south of Ethiopia are the Borana and they are pastoral herdsmen.

About halfway through the baddest part of the road, we stopped to take a photo of a cell phone reception tower. There was a group of people waiting for a bus, or water or something. They all spend a lot of time waiting. Anyway, we were approached by a lone traveller on a motorbike, who wanted to know if he could travel alongside us, as he was battling to keep himself motivated and going on this terrible road. He is on an around the world trip and has been travelling for 3 and a half years. Difficult to understand that. He is a Swiss. He spent the rest of the day with us, which was good for him and interesting for us. Eventually at about 3.30 we arrived in Moyale, the border town. On the Kenya side all went smoothly. Attended to by the typical customs officer, with a stern face and over exaggerated “passport stamping” actions.
You then cross over to the Ethiopia side and you are immediately transported into another world. You drive on the right hand side of the road, there were goats and cows and dogs and hundreds of people in the street. We went to the passport office, which was a bit of a problem for the young man attending to us. The power was off and we had to wait. He made several calls to invisible people and eventually pulled closer a huge book where he laboriously entered our detail. All was a bit tiresome and confusing, as he could not understand the Swiss connection. Well with a last flurry of the wrist, the Passports were shuffled across the desk and we were out of immigration. We only had customs to go, but they were not there as it was Sunday afternoon. We all battled with that one. Dick went off to identify a bird and the Swiss and I decided that this was the time to take our first stab at Ethiopian coffee. Somebody, later we discovered that he was John, a tourist guard, offered to fetch the customs officer at home. Soon he arrived, looking rather worst for wear, either in sleepy, tipsy or both conditions. It was another drama to get all this sorted. Passport checks, lots of irrelevant questions, .slow writing and much assistance from various assistants. All rather amusing. Eventually we were legally in Ethiopia. All we needed was a place to stay and food. We managed this and were soon settled into an unofficial camp site at the back of a hotel, amongst building rubble and a, now familiar sight, of many spectators watching our every move and clearly discussing it in detail. We had a lovely evening enjoying our first Ethiopian meal of Injera, a sort of a pancake, but much bigger, and some goodies that you eat with it. This and 2 Ethiopian beers later had us all ready for bed, amongst much noise and discussions of the neighbours and the running of the generator. Luckily that switched off at 12, only to be replaced by the barking of hundreds of dogs, some ringing of bells and the invasion of our “camp area” of 2 “bushbuck” (possibly a Kudu and/or Nyala), one ate my newly acquired bar of Nivea soap and the other the bag of rubbish. There was also a minor disturbance when one buck was stuck with a plastic rubbish bin around his neck. Luckily the security guard came to deal with that. From then on it was only a few hours before the Mosque man’s call woke us up for our first full day in Ethiopia.