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Welcome to my travel log! You will find here a lot more than in the travel reports, stripped from political correctness. Enjoy! 
Dec 28, 2007 07:00 PM Hargeysa - Somaliland's tiny capital
Bloody good job I went to the Dire Dawa airport early. Ethiopian Airlines decided to change their schedule and remove the Dire Dawa to Hargeisa flight entirely. Yet, they failed to inform me or automatically re-route me. And I did reconfirm all my flights in Addis on the day that I arrived in Ethiopia! I had to wrestle a little with the personnel in Dire Dawa, who initially refused to do anything about it. They tried someone on the phone after I strongly protested. I do not know what they did but they put me on an early flight to Addis Ababa (that was leaving in 5 minutes - this is how lucky I was!) and said that I would get further information there. As far I as I was concerned, they should have re-routed me automatically and I would not want to care about their existing and missing procedures. It was their problem. I paid for my ticket. It was an international one and they had a obligation to provide transportation. I made it possible for them as I turned up on time for my route to be amended and still be flown from Dire Dawa to Hargeisa, whether that was via Addis Ababa or another city I did not care. I wanted to be in Hargeisa on Saturday afternoon!
As I was boarding the Dire Dawa to Addis Ababa flight, I had a feeling that they did not re-route me at all, but blagged me onto the domestic flight and I still would need argue my way in Addis.
It worked! With some miracle, the Ethiopian Airlines reservation and check-in systems were very slow in Addis and I was able to smoothly convince the check-in clerk that I was indeed supposed to travel on that flight from Addis. She was a little confused but using all the charm I had I slowly explained everything and she manually put on the flight. I almost could not believe my luck.
Somaliland did not welcome tourists well. It charged US$2 for arrival and made everyone change US$50 at a robber's rate 3500:1 whilst the normal rate was 6000:1! Then, the taxi driver charged US$10 for a one kilometre ride! I was not aware about the governmental theft so, I handed the driver 35,000 shillings thinking it was alright. Only at the hotel, did I find what was going on. I was not impressed. Not at all impressed.
The Ambassador Hotel was squeaky clean and looked very professional. The service was superb. As soon as I dropped my bag, I went down to the garden to eat something. It was only 4:30pm but the restaurant obliged happily.
I hesitated about the steak but I chose it anyway. Of course what actually arrived was not a steak that I expected. Instead, a flat (definitely pounded) piece of meat arrived with a trace of thick brown sauce. It was delicious! The meat was slightly less juicy that I normally like my steaks but it was not chewy and the pepper sauce was almost perfect - spicy, tingy, a little sweet. I was already thinking of having the same dish the next day!
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Dec 27, 2007 07:00 PM Kulubi - St Gabryel's Pilgrimage
I went to Kulubi, the place where thousands of pilgrims were going to celebrate St Gabriel.
The church was very modest and I really did not know what the entire hoo-ha was about. The crowd was infested with hundreds and hundreds of beggars, which frankly was a terrible sight. Fortunately, a few giant tents were open playing funky music (local and foreign) and serving food and beer. I tried food, but I did not like the very sour pancake-like bread. And I did not trust the kitchens’ hygiene. There was no running water and the tents were literally pitched in the bush and the meat was hanging from hooks right behind the provisional bar, sweating in the hot weather.
As expected, going back to Harar against the traffic was a problem. The boys, with whom I was partying in the tent, wanted me to stay in Kulubi for the night. I could have stayed in the tents for rent, but I preferred to go back to Harar. I was leaving Ethiopia the next morning.
I had to walk over 5 kilometres to find a minibus that was going in my direction - to Harar. And when I eventually found one, few people actually wanted to travel away from this holy place, so I had to wait almost an hour before the driver moved. As soon as the vehicle moved it was faced with an impossible traffic.
The road was completely blocked by buses and trucks which could not handle the climb. Other vehicles wanting to overtake them blocked the opposite direction. This created three lane jam on two lane road for 20 kilometres. I realised that there were many idiot drivers in Ethiopia, idiots with no imagination.
On this road again, I noticed guys with guns. I learnt that this particular region was not terribly safe, and travel at night was definitely a no-no. Hmm...so how safe would all those pilgrims, who decided to walk, were going to be, I wondered.
Back in Harar, I had a drink (a small bottle of Harar beer - well, I think there was only one size) at the Tourist Hotel club. It was a dodgy local hotel (my hotel Thewodros once was like that), but the club was lively and packed with people. It was very loud, so I could imagine how easy was to have a good night sleep there! Not!
A club right next to it pretended to be upper scale, where waiters dressed in sparkly waistcoats roamed the venue and all guests were searched at the entrance. Very thoroughly! Hookers were the predominant female character there. Although a few whores hoovered at the Tourist as well.
That was my last night in Ethiopia, and yet I did feel like staying up too long. I went to bed at about midnight.
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Dec 26, 2007 07:00 PM Harar - Buying a donkey
I hit the town in the morning at 8:30am. I took my guide. I did not want to see any museums or markets and suddenly my guide struggled to fill the day with attractions for me. I obviously could not visit any of the 91 mosques since I was not Muslim. So, I spent the morning walking about the old town, visiting all of the six gates. I eventually passed by the Muslim and cattle markets. And had a peak inside one of the museums. Teddy also took me to a traditional Harar house, where a local family lived. I sat in their lounge as he explained the various parts of the household.
At lunch time, I sat down at the Adil Cafe's balcony from which the Showa Gate of the old town was best viewed in the afternoon sun. The cafe’s position was perfect for people watching, particularly those who traded at the Christian Market. A good part of the old town and a table mountain were visible from the balcony, too.
I asked Teddy if he had a donkey. He did not. I asked how much would a donkey be. He claimed that a hard working ass would cost approximately 800 birr (£43). I told him that if it was true then I might buy him one. He took me to the donkey market and I got one. A female ass, so perhaps she could produce more donkeys in the future. Then we took the animal to his mother's house. Teddy had a plan to rent the donkey to people. This should earn him approximately 100 birr a month.
Then, it appeared that I had seen everything there was to see in Harar. And I was planning to stay another day in the town!Teddy proposed that I went to see the holy church, the reason of the annual pilgrimage. It was in a place called Kulubi, some 70 kilometres from Harar. The trip on a minibus would take around an hour. I thought, what the hell.
In Harar I found that not only was the Ethiopian calendar different, so was the clock. It was turned 180 degrees anticlockwise, e.g. it a had six hours lag. For example 8:30am by the European clock was 2:30am by the Ethiopian clock. Bizarre?
I snoozed at the Adil Cafe until tea time, watching people moving around, engaging in business, chatting, relaxing, watching others. It was like a theatre. And I was on the balcony enjoying it.
Quick shower and a short tuk-tuk ride later, I was sitting behind a small palm tree at the Rose Cafe & Restaurant sipping papaya juice through a white straw. I ordered pasta with tomato sauce, one of few non gut busting dishes from the menu. It was about twenty minutes before the arrival of darkness.
The juice was great. Pasta was slightly overcooked but otherwise not bad at all. The cafe filled up quickly. Locals (there must have been only about ten tourists in Harar at that time) came for coffees, macchiatoes, cakes and chips. The tables along the pavement full of people enjoying their snacks created a great atmosphere. The speakers gave pleasant modern jazz, blues, soft reggae and country music. It felt like this place could be just anywhere on the planet. No such thing was available in Aksum or Gondar, or Bahir Dar.
I let myself to be dragged to a nightclub. It was a bizarre one. It was based in an unfinished building. Naturally, hookers hoovered around. Some of them, I swear, looked like men. I stayed only until 11pm. I could not stand the character of the place.
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Dec 25, 2007 07:00 PM Harar - Feeding hyenas
On the plane (again) I felt suddenly so tired that I began discounting the option of continuing to Harar straight away after landing. Instead, a number of speculations about accommodation in Dire Dawa ran through my mind. My guidebook mentioned only two hotel options, so I asked this French couple if I could have a look at their Bradt guide. Their guide had a few options in each hotel category. I selected one close to the Harar bus station and having it noted in my guidebook, I felt a little happier.
And then, when I landed, I felt strangely refreshed, jumped into a taxi and went to the bus station to catch a minibus to Harar. The taxi driver offered a direct service from the airport to Harar for 250 birr, which was not too bad, but I wanted a more adventurous way. I was already spending too much on the extravagant way of travelling in Africa - in a private car. It was definitely time to go to basics again, e.g. chicken bus.
Fortunately, there were still minibuses to Harar. I almost hopped on one which was almost ready to leave but a dispatcher decided to put me in a different one. A completely empty one! I had to wait. After about 15 minutes, the van was almost full and yet, it did not leave. I am not sure what happened but there was an argument between the dispatcher and the drivers and I had to switch vehicles. It was a little disappointing because I had a better seat in the previous one. I could make a scene, since I was the only tourist at the station, but somehow I was in a better mood than the situation would suggest.
The trip took an hour. It felt like it took twice as long. It was pitch black when I arrived. Fortunately I found three policemen standing by the road. I asked them to show me the way to the Thewodros Hotel. They obliged happily but not in a lucid way. Typical! Bloody good job I remembered the map from the Bradt guide so I had a vague idea where I was going. I found the hotel quickly.
As soon as I stepped into the hotel, people started shouting that the hotel was full. That was a joy of arriving at a place during the hours of darkness having made no reservation! Luckily, a bunch of Americans, who arrived on the same flight with me from Addis and then with their own transport, did not like the rooms, so I could have one of them! Yeah!
It appeared that about a million of Ethiopian pilgrims from around the world were coming for certain Mecca-type celebration to a place called Kulubi 70 kilometres from Harar. Hotels in Harar and Dire Dawa were therefore all booked up and charged 50% more. So, having secured a room, for two nights so far, I began to have second thoughts about travelling to Dire Dawa for Friday night. If hotels there were booked up then perhaps I should better extend my stay in Harar. This was the true joy of travelling alone. I made all my decisions myself, last minute and without having to compromise with anyone.
As soon as I secured a room, I had to sit down to have a pint of fresh draft Harar beer. Thewodros restaurant served it for 5 birr. I was indeed tired and just before retiring I went for a short walk in the old town. I was kind of hoping to find at least one of the two recommended drinks places. I found both, one of which was no longer in business.
Unsurprisingly, I was found by many official guides who wanted to show me the town. I was falling on my face, almost literally, and, as politely as I was able at that time, I made sure that they understood my physical state.
Anyway, Teddy found me (this must have been a very popular name), a local guide, who did not give up that easily. I told him that I was going on the pre-bedtime stroll and did not care about the hyenas. Well, he claimed that I was really close to the feeding place, so I thought I might just do that. In fact, it was near but he took me the long way, because he wanted to show me more. He did not make this mistake on the way back - I made sure of that!
Mostly young hyenas came. I was surprised that they would come so close and look almost habituated, but still really shy. I came alone for the feeding and then these scavengers were more comfortable and approachable. But a group of wealthier locals arrived with their posh merc and the animals became more alert and increasingly more shy. I even felt sorry for the hyenas, yet I guess I should not have. They were in fact being fed, instead of taking to the wild and getting their food like all other wild animals.
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Dec 24, 2007 07:00 PM Axum - A little disappointing...
A home of Queen Sheba, allegedly, was the place for me to spend Christmas Day. Also allegedly, the Arc of Covenant built by Moses to store the stone tablets engraved with the Ten Commandments was being kept at one of the churches. If that was not the best and holiest place for spending Christmas then, where was it?!
Having arrived an hour late, I was picked up by an apparent representative of my hotel, who packed me in a taxi saying that the hotel's shuttle was broken and I needed to take this 80 birr ride. I naturally protested having read that a regular taxi should be 30 birr or 10 birr if shared. So, he said we could wait for other people in order to share the ride. But then he changed his mind and put me in a van.
En route to the hotel he, unsurprisingly, made a sales pitch. He started on a very wrong foot though trying to convince me that instead of Aksum I should go to Debre Damo Monastery, some 95 kilometres away. I just exited an aircraft and he thought I wanted to spend two and half hours in a van straight away! No, no, no.
After arrival at the hotel, he asked 700 birr for a city tour, which was supposed to include guide, entry fees to seven sites around Aksum with stelae, churches, ruined palace of Queen Sheba, and the chapel with the arc. I had to educate him again by saying that I never paid so much for a half a day city tour in Ethiopia and that I was not stupid enough to pay it in Aksum! He eventually came down to 400 birr but took the guide off, but included airport transfers.
Aksum, after Gondar and Lalibela, felt like a tourist trap. It was definitely the least spectacular place on the historical circuit. The palace of Queen Sheba was a total ruin, and had never been what it was said to have been, the royal tombs were grey and uninteresting and the stelae were in a mess created by the Italians. Again! A large area of the most important stelae site was cordoned off for construction work - an erection of an obelisk previously stolen by the Italians, and now returned. I was rather unimpressed with it all.
At least I was one of the first tourists who were allowed to see the burial chambers under the stelae. They had only opened two weeks before I arrived.
The church, whose chapel, reportedly housing the arc, was not impressive and of course no-one could see the arc. Rubbish!
Aksum was also disorganised. One could not get a ticket for the main stelae site at the site. One had to take a ten minute trek to the main piazza and find a courtyard (there were no signs) and an unmarked building where two resigned guys were selling tickets... Then, of course, one had to hike back. There was no information anywhere about anything and this had been a UNESCO World Heritage site for decades!!
The night fell quickly. The sun set at 6pm on the dot and darkness spread upon the town 30 minutes later. Unbelievably, one minute after the sun hid behind the mountains, the temperature dropped by over 10 degrees and kept dropping and dropping. I rushed to my hotel room to put on a long sleeve shirt, of which I only had two. One was already unusable, sweated and smelly. Luckily, the other was fine and was not wrinkled too badly.
Back on the hotel's terrace, from which the main stelae site could be admired in full glory (yet it was not so impressive in fact), the silhouette of table mountains on the background of dusky skies made up for many disappointments that day. Almost!
I was not sure if I wanted to go out. The hotel was again situated a little out of town and on a hill. Somehow, the idea of having to navigate dark streets without a map in the unknown territory was not necessarily thrilling. Second of all, I have not heard of a good entertainment place and did not see any along the high street. And climbing up the hill in the middle of the night was not the way I would enjoy concluding my night out. At the other hand, the hotel was full of old Germans on a packaged tour! What can I say?!
I went looking for a party. On the main street, I did not find it. I stopped for a cold drink at a bar with a terrace and then kept looking for a while. I did not necessarily want to step into a seedy venue, some of which I think I spotted. So, after about an hour, I turned back to the hotel. Walking at night in Aksum was not as bad as I thought. At least the way to the hotel was lit and the full moon on cloudless sky did the rest. Also, the hike up the hill was relatively easy, considering the elevation of 2100 metres (6890 feet) above sea level and extremely dry air.
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Dec 23, 2007 07:00 PM Lalibela - Ethiopia's Jerusalem
Surprisingly, the flight to Lalibela was on time. At the airport and on the airplane, I again saw the same people, who either lingered with me in Addis Ababa or travelled from Bahir Dar to Gondar one day and two days before. It appeared to me that these were the only tourists in Ethiopia at that time. Well, not quite of course, but it felt like it.
The aircraft flew over an incredible scenery - steep barren mountains, multiple canyons, gorges and valleys of rivers that almost dried out.
No taxi service was available at the airport, which was 25 kilometres away from Lalibela. And it was all the way up the mountains. However, many hotels, and all the mid range ones, normally would send some form of transport and charge about £2. It took approximately 45 minutes to the town. That gave me only about an hour to visit some of the churches before they closed at noon for lunch.
Mine, and many other mid and almost upper range hotels, were located at the far end of the village - a long, uphill and exhausting hike from the churches. I think the distance was 2.5 kilometres. I had to leg it and be fast if I wanted to see anything that morning. When I got to the top I was properly knackered.
The entry fee doubled since the last update of my guidebook, six months before. And the guides were asking 200 birr (£11), which was 50 birr more than the book suggested. I only had 450 birr on me. Having read that Lalibela had no banking facilities, that stirred my blood a little. Yet, there was a bank in Lalibela indeed. So I could breathe much easier.
By the time I was done with the ticketing formalities and being screened by security, fifty minutes only were left before the site was closing for lunch. Not much. The guide was insisting that it was enough to see first six churches. He was wrong. Well, he was not aware that I was going to take many pauses to shoot my photographs. So, I did not have time to visit all of the churches’ interiors.
At the time of closure, I was standing inside the Church of St George, perhaps the most famous and definitely the most photographed one out of all ten (eleven) churches. There are in fact ten churches in Lalibela, one for each of the Ten Commandments. This is how the King Lalibela designed them. However, nowadays one of the churches is divided in two, hence both the local guides and the literature talk about eleven temples.
The midday sun created harsh light and I made it clear to my guide that I would want to come back to the Church of St George just before the site was closing for the night at 5pm. I loved that church and I wanted to try to take better pictures of it. It deserved it!
The EU, although with good intentions, was ruining the character of the site. Huge steel roofs were being constructed over the churches to protect them from the elements, particularly during the rainy season. The roofs were enormous and elevated with massive shiny steel legs rising directly from the base of the churches. The fate of the lovely Church of St George was apparently the same. That is going to be a crime! One would hope that more subtle roofing solution was going to be designed for this one. For example, a temporary giant tent raised high by ropes only during the wet season, would not ruin the atmosphere of the site that much. And for the dry season the church could be uncovered like it was when I saw it.
I parted with my guide at about 12:15pm and made an appointment to see the remaining four churches at 3pm. In the meantime, I thought I could visit the centre of the village, stop somewhere for a cold drink and perhaps find a bank. I just did not want to go back to my hotel and then face this tiring hike back to the top. Well, the centre of Lalibela was further up, so I sweated a little more, fried by the midday sun. To my greatest disappointment, no bar and no restaurant could be found for about 30 minutes as I kept dehydrating myself through my skin, drying out my mouth and leaving me breathless. I eventually had to stop at a local shop to get some water before collapsing to the amusement of local kids. Who, by the way, should have been at school, instead of following me pointlessly, but with curiosity. It almost felt like a group of young hyenas were following me, waiting for me to finally give up and die.
After downing about a litre of water in one go, I stood there by the road like a disillusioned zebra, panting heavily. Then, I made a few more steps up only to find a cosy local restaurant and bar serving 'ice cold' drinks. Having killed my thirst I thought that I did not need to check it anymore. And I still had about 500ml of water in my bottle. Five minutes of further hike and there it was The Commercial Bank of Ethiopia, Lalibela Branch. It was closed for lunch but one of the hotel options, which I was considering to stay at, was right opposite. I went in for a couple of bottles of Pepsi.
The Seven Olives Hotel was invaded by the Germans. Although it was perhaps better positioned in the village, closer to the churches and the facilities, but I was glad I was staying elsewhere. I did not want to listen to sixtysomething German women yapping about nothing and complaining about everything.
It took about 45 minutes to visit the last four churches, one of which (perhaps the most elaborate), the Church of Emmanuel, was covered by the ugly Italian roof. It was impossible to take a decent picture without the metal legs getting in the way.
So, it was perfectly reasonable to visit all ten (eleven) churches in two hours. This meant that the cheeky guides charge 100 birr an hour, which was £5.43 - few pennies short of the UK's minimum hourly rate, the same that virtually all bartenders in the UK got!
Overall, Lalibela was one of the more striking historic places I had visited by that time. The rock-hewn temples surely defied reason, but the fact that they were located amongst breathtaking scenery made them truly unforgettable. The multiple table mountains looming in the far background and the 200 year old round rural houses in between complemented the churches beautifully. I had no words.
My understanding was that Lalibela was on the rise. More hotels, fortunately kept in a traditional architecture (round huts), were springing up and the main street was paved with cobble stones. The road from the airport was sealed and every souvenir shop offered an Internet service, and the bank had opened. Yet, few decent restaurants existed, namely - two. I overheard one tourist educating one of the guides how Lalibela could improve by bringing more eateries. I could not agree more. As I was thinking about dinner, I did not have many options. One, of course, was Roha Hotel, where I stayed. The other was Seven Olives Hotel, whose menu I liked actually, but the hotel was at the other end of the town - almost an hour away, uphill all the way! This did not thrill me at all. Yes, I am a lazy pig.
It was Christmas Eve, and I guess I should have rather eaten fish, but I could not convince my brain cells to believe fish would be fresh and my ass would not make the night any difficult in the wee hours of Christmas Day. I am sure my grandma would forgive me. Hey, did I not just go to ten (eleven) churches? Christian ones!
And yet, I broke another Christmas Eve covenant by having alcohol that night. I wanted dark beer, but the bar did not have it so I had to settle for the St George beer, Ethiopia's favourite lager - a local solution to sun strokes, etc. Like mine. I definitely burnt the top of my head, which had become a Christmas tradition for me. Then, I stole Harar's thunder by having a bottle of Harar beer next. I was going to Harar in three days, and I guess I should have waited until I got there, but the bartender did not speak much English... Yeah, I do not want to go to too much detail. Interestingly, Harar was predominantly a Muslim city, and there was a major brewery based there, hmm.. I thought it was a bit odd.
Time came to hit the town again, the quite edible spaghetti settled in my stomach. I did not go far and two boys, one named Jolly, asked me for my email. I was very impressed with his English, so I agreed. Later, the boys joined me for a few cokes and sprites at the Megabi Cafeteria. I also bought them cakes. They really did not want anything from me but just to talk. Within a few minutes there were six of them at my table. English of most of them was excellent. I did not have to repeat myself too many times. And they were only between 15 and 18 years old. We laughed a lot for the entire evening, but when I learnt that they had to go to college for 8am next day, I called it a night. It was a good evening.
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Dec 22, 2007 07:00 PM Gondar - Ethiopia's Camelot and Simien Mountains
My scheduled departure to the Africa's Camelot, Gondar - at the opposite side of Lake Tana, was 08:30am, which required check-in at 7 o'clock in the morning. I arrived at the airport at 7:20 and was checked in three minutes later. The very slow lady at the desk claimed the flight was on time. And it really was.
On this flight I noticed that Ethiopian Airlines did not do a security briefing. That was a big, big minus.
Fifteen minutes on the airplane and I was in Gondar. The aircraft simply made a hop over the lake.
After checking in at the hotel, I walked downhill to the centre. My plan was to catch still good lighting for the photos I was going to take of the castles.
The royal complex was impressive. Many castles fell in disrepair but one of them was still rather well preserved. Inside its wooden floors and ceilings did not look their age. The guides inside the compound asked 130 birr for their service so I said I was going to pass and simply walk on my own. The territory was not vast and was quickly covered in less than an hour - and I was taking my time.
The castles, built in seventeenth and eighteenth centuries did look like Camelot-style defensive living quarters. All built of grey stone in a classic medieval architecture, unmistakable for strongholds. Each of the castles was built by a different emperor. I loved that the place was not swarmed by hordes of tourists. For the most of my time there I was the only obvious tourist in sight. In all, I counted four other white faces visiting and one Asian. There was also a local married couple who wandered about the castles with a personal photographer and a group of young Ethiopians, who arrived as I was about to leave. So, for the most part, I had the imperial enclosure for myself. I hiked from one castle to another snapping freely.
Weather was perfect for it. The sun was still relatively low on the cloudless blue sky and the thermometer showed 25 degrees Celsius. An optimal aura for walking around and soaking the local ambiance.
Later in the centre of the town, I met two schoolboys, one tenth grade, the other eighth grade, who tried selling me a trip to the mountains. I really did not want to go but frankly I was bit unsure what to do with myself for the rest of the day. And therefore I made them try harder and harder until I finally said yes. They were offering two hour long escapade around Gondar, to the place, where, allegedly, Queen Elisabeth II stopped for tea on her way from Gondar to Aksum. For the price of 350 birr I thought I might just do it. Otherwise I would probably spend the same amount of money at the hotel bar, which, by the way, offered a spectacular view of the town - all the way to the royal castles.
The boys picked me up 1:30pm sharp. As soon as the car made the exit out of the town, the smooth and quiet asphalt road turned into a dark grey gravel dirt track. It was firm though and I could go rather fast. Good!
First stop was at a view point by someone's farm. Local kids swarmed me, some asking for pens, which I strategically did not give out. The view was of mountains, but they were so distant. The second stop was at an extremely ruined house, which quite unbelievably hosted a tea break for Queen Elisabeth II. I made it clear that I did not believe that. This almost upset the guide. I explained that the Queen must have visited Ethiopia fairly recently, at least in the last 40 years, and the house looked like it had been a ruin for over a century.
The last stop was at the trail I was taking. It had to be my stop since the car broke down. The gear shift box collapsed. I feared that I would gave to walk back to Gondar. This would take me approximately twelve hours. Maybe longer. However the driver said that he would call for a mechanic and by the time I would have been back from my hike the car would be fixed.
The hike was easy. By the end of it I was closer to some better views. Two shepherd boys from the nearby village joined me for the walk. I originally thought that they were simply looking for their cattle. But no, they just wanted to be near me - a genuine white tourist. I snapped a few photographs of the dramatic landscape, sat down on the rocks, listened to a few songs from my iPhone and it was time to go back to the car.
It looked like it was fixed. The mechanic was still around, waiting to be taken back to Gondar. Good job he did not go back. The car was not fixed. It failed a few times on the steep road raising hair on my neck and just before the hotel, it went back to fully broken state. I was faced with legging up to the hotel by foot. I was not looking forward to doing this as it was a steep way up and I was dying for a shower. Yet, as soon as I started climbing up, the driver caught up with me. The mechanic made a provisional fix so I did not have to sweat anymore.
After shower, I descended onto the bar's terrace for a sundowner. I wanted dark beer but the bar did not have any so Pepsi had to do the honours. I liked Pepsi so it did not matter and I guess I was being a little kinder to my body (but not to my mind!!). The castles were glowing slightly in the setting sun and I attempted a few snaps. It was hazy so it was not easy to snap with much success. Well, the sunset was great. Our great star hid behind a table mountain quite spectacularly.
I could not decide whether I should eat at the hotel again or try a place in town. My stomach was leaning towards a pizza but my mind was not sure if there was a good pizza place, meaning a place serving good pizza. I was planning to go out with my schoolboys, who wanted to drag me to the piazza for a local concert and traditional dancing. That might be a good occasion to try a local place in town, I was thinking. Dinner at the hotel was served from 7pm and the boys were to pick me up at 7:30pm. I am quite capable of shoving up a meal within thirty minutes easily, but I did not trust the service. Service at Tana Hotel in Bahir Dar (the Goha Hotel of Gondar twin sister) was terribly slow.
I checked at the hotel what was for dinner and having realised that there was virtually no choice I asked about an Italian restaurant in town. The Toskany came recommended so I went there. Their excellent pizza could only rival the polite and professional service. A large 18 inch pizza was about 33 birr.
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Dec 21, 2007 07:00 PM Bahir Dar - The Tana Lake and Blue Nile Falls
I had to get up really early to check in for my 07:10am flight, which only looked like was going to leave on time. As soon as I boarded, the right engine developed a technical problem, which manifested itself by a thick grey smoke. The airline moved everyone back to the terminal. It was already 08:40am and I was still stuck at the terminal typing these words. I definitely was not a happy bunny. With every minute of this delay, time for my visiting Lake Tana's monasteries and the Blue Nile Waterfalls was shrinking mercilessly. Ethiopian Airlines had a 07:30am flight to Bahir Dar in addition to the one I was booked on, but I missed it even before leaving the broken aircraft. And the airline was not rushing in to try to re-book passengers onto different flights.
Then, about 10am I was back on the plane. It took off ten minutes later and two minutes into the flight a terrible noise came out off the left engine. The aircraft swiftly turned back to the airport. Several fire engines met the landing. At 10:30am I was back at the terminal. Little information was given and many passengers, myself included, got seriously irritated. Eventually, 12 noon was announced to be the time of my departure. If I was lucky, that was. And I was not. The plane left 1:45pm!
One thing was certain. Ethiopian Airlines were not as great as they claimed. The troubled aircraft, Fokker50, was really old and unclean. The personnel was unhelpful, impolite and unwilling to empathise with the passengers, whose holiday was clearly ruined. Like mine!
Six hours late in Bahir Dar and I was screwed. I had to cut my programme by two thirds. There was no time for visiting more than just one monastery. But I was determined to see the Blue Nile Falls.
Bahir Dar was attractive and its wide palmtree planted boulevards right next to the lake made it look civilised. And it was clean. The community centre complete with public swimming pool (fifty yards from the lake!), a bar and pool tables impressed me!
Tana Hotel sent a shuttle to meet the aircraft. Two guys who came with it threw a sales presentation at me yapping that they could fix me the rest of the day. They asked £120 for it so I laughed as hard as I could and told them that a ceiling must have fallen on their heads. Eventually I squeezed the price down to 650 birr (£35) which I still thought was a little steep for what I was getting.
What I got was an hour on the lake with a visit to the men only Monastery of St Gabriel and a three-and-half hour escapade to the waterfall. It was expensive locally, but for me it was still a good value.
The monastery was about 20 minutes boat ride on a rather rough lake. I got a little splashed all over despite the boat having screens and an elevated roof. The island on which it stood was small and steep. The round church was an excellent example of an odd and intriguing architecture. I really liked it. However, the greatness of this monastery was (no, not that it prohibited women on the island) its museum. It had a great collection of silver crowns, goblets, bronze crosses from all over Ethiopia, and seriously old books and icons. The silver items were almost completely black. My question was why those were not polished and the answer was that polishing would make the items thinner. And that was highly undesirable.
As expected, the dirt road to the falls was bad. Yet, I thought it might be worse.
On the way, I noticed guys wrapped in white cloth carrying machine guns underneath. I spotted the barrels sticking out. They were lingering by the road mingling with the locals. They might have been the police or military or in fact militia or bandits. I promised myself that next time I was going to ask the driver or a local to find out.
The car went as far as the dam, where the Falls Visitor Centre charged foreigners 15 birr. Then, a short ride through the village to the Nile's shores where boats waited to take visitors to the other side. The boatmen demanded 10 birr one way. Allegedly there was a bridge somewhere but my guide (20 birr) did not offer that option. From the other side, there was still good 15-20 minute walk through the grazing fields before the waterfall could be heard. Well, I came in a wrong season (should have come in September or October) as the fall was only one sixth full. The dry part of the escarpment did not leave much to imagination though. One could easily picture how much greater the waterfall must be at the end of the wet season.
Kids who followed me around playing traditional flutes and trying to sell me embroiled or woven cloth annoyed me a little. They were too much of a nuisance and would not take 'no' for an answer. As a whole, the Blue Nile Falls were worth the trip. The gorge was gorgeous and its top offered superb views to the waterfall. I came down the cliff as close to the spray as possible. I could feel the speed of the water on my whole body. Not only my eyes and ears enjoyed the thunder of water coming down but the immense power pushed the air with such a force that my body (not at all slim, no, no) was shaking. I loved it. I did not feel that heavy then and it massaged my ego, if only superficially.
It was a day full with adrenaline. Five hours of delay pumped a great deal of it into my bloodstream making me figure out scenarios what if I did not reach Bahir Dar that day (a chain reaction would kick in as I had flights every day, the last of which was not a daily flight!) and how I might need to scratch plans for one of the countries altogether. Then, the lake and monasteries and finally, the picturesque waterfall.
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Dec 20, 2007 07:00 PM Addis Ababa - first impressions
The flight into Addis Ababa first took me to Jordan's capital, Amman. It is a considerable detour that increases flying time significantly. Well, that was one of bmi's new routes. I always wished bmi the best but how they are going to make money on the new routes is beyond me. The aircraft to Amman was 70% full in economy and only 15% full in business. Then in Amman, the majority of passengers disembarked and the plane continued to Ethiopia almost empty.
All the way to Jordan the flight was smooth. Then, almost immediately after Amman, on the second leg of the flight, multiple turbulences hit. Rain over Jordan justified that but the clear skies over the Sahara did not. Bizarre. The plane started shakkking the most as soon it entered the Sudanese airspace. It was still over 2 hours to Addis and I, at that time of night, would prefer a smoother ride for snoozing.
On the way from the quite impressive Addis Ababa’s airport, on the complimentary Hilton shuttle, I could not help noticing how relatively tidy the city was. In the afternoon when I went on exploring a little, I could confirm that Addis Ababa, Africa's fourth city was much cleaner than many capitals I visited on the continent.
Yet, Addis had little to offer in terms of sightseeing. The University of Addis Ababa was one of the more pleasant places and the Holy Trinity Cathedral was the other. Many interesting architecturally structures were presidential or government buildings and, in wonderfully African way (paranoid way), photography was prohibited. The African Union complex was interesting because of its purpose but not visually. It was near Hilton, where I stayed.
At the university I met a first year student, Tanow, who came from Gondar to study English language, English literature and general linguistics. He thought he might want to become a journalist. Although he admitted that there was no free press in Ethiopia. For example, he would not be able to write anything positive about Eritrea. In a newspaper scattered at the airport I read that Eritrea suffered from a dictatorship and anti-regime forces were being mobilised in Sweden to liberate the nation. (?)
I did not expect much from Addis as far as photography was concerned. In general its architecture was based on concrete blocks. Few new glass-and-steel high rise buildings mashroomed randomly around the city however nothing spectacular to dedicate card memory to.
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Nov 17, 2007 07:00 PM Santana - old Madeiran architecture
I slept in. I took seriously too long in the morning and if I had any plans made for that day, they were not going to work anymore. I told the receptionist exactly that. I enquired about public transport to see a selection of places featured in the postcards displayed in the lobby. He claimed it was not going to be easy. It was Sunday and it was late. I then picked one of the places (featured on the title page) and asked about taxi fares. Ha! I had to negotiate.
After a few over-the-phone fare wrestling sessions, I was on the verge of giving up and just spend the day in Funchal. However, the receptionist came up with an idea that I rented a car - with a driver. I would prefer to drive myself, but he claimed that it would be too expensive due to insurance. If the rental was not busy that day, they could give me one of the mechanics to drive me to that place for half the price. I agreed to that!
My driver’s name was Ze. He was the best thing that happened to me on Madeira. He did not speak English, or Spanish, or Polish, or Russian. Only Portuguese! That complicated things a little, because I could not have a conversation with him. My Portuguese was not existent. I knew few words learnt on Brazilian airlines and from songs. So, our conversations were short, snappy and to the point and sadly not very frequent.
Ze was exceptionally friendly. I was really impressed! I was treated like a king. He was patient with me while I was trotting through the mud to take photographs from an optimal position. The good lad went an extra mile, actually a good few miles, to show me more than I expected from this short trip. I do not even think that I was paying for that much.
Miraculously I was able to explain, or he was so clever that he understood, that I wanted to take many photographs of the island. He asked what types of pictures I wanted to take so I said that mainly landscape and architecture. I think this is what triggered Ze to take me to places that were not agreed on the price plan with his boss. He showed the eastern peninsula, the northern coast, parts of the eastern coast and the mountains of the interior. He took me to a local country bar to try the famous punch. And he did not allow me to pay for it! I was so dismayed with such a friendly attitude of his! I loved it! I really, really loved it.
I did want to see the eastern peninsula of Sao Lorenco, but with weather being so bad and no transport, I did not expect it to happen. And of course of staying in bed too long was the other unfavourable factor. This one was my fault, though.
Little I knew that Ze was planning to stop by the peninsula on the way to Santana, the place I agreed with the boss to visit. He had to take a considerable detour to Sao Lorenco and that was his first great surprise to me.
After the rains, the slopes and the approach to the view points were muddy and extremely slippery. I was sinking in the reddish mud like a yak. I was very aware that my boots were going to soil the interior of the car after the escapade... Poor Ze, who followed me to the viewpoints like a bodyguard, must have been aware of the same thing. Anyway, I managed to clean the boots in a puddle and with some grass. I did not want to ruin Ze’s evening, who would need to clean the car after the trip, for sure.
The peninsula was long and picturesque. The road did not lead to the very end of it. Instead, it stopped at the view point, just before an observatory of some kind. That was enough for me. I stayed about twenty minutes contemplating the views and snapping a few photographs. It was almost raining, so I could not stay too long. My camera was not waterproof!
Santana, my primary destination, was a small place with traditional reed-roof houses. When I got there, I knew that it was not what I had expected. I thought the houses would be located in a park or something and that there would be more of them. It was not like that.
Actually, Ze was not sure where those houses were exactly, when I asked him. I was a little concerned that we were not going to find them. Fortunately, they were right by the road.
Ze parked right outside. It was raining (I mean pissing down) a little more. This pissed me off considerably. I quickly took a few pictures and it felt like a good time to have something to eat. A little cafe was just across the street. When we finished our lunch, it was still raining. Ze kept treating me like a king. He insisted that he should go out in the rain to bring the car right at the door of the cafe so I would not get wet.
I thought we were going back to Funchal. I thought it was the end of the trip. The end of the party. I was wrong. Ze took me along the North Coast as far as São Vicente. We passed through São Jorge, Ponta Delgada, Boa Ventura. The landscape was pretty dramatic - high cliffs, green mountains, pretty little villages.
At Ponta Delgada, there were two more of the traditional houses. Their construction was very similar but they looked slightly different than those in Santana. And wetter. Interestingly, one of them had two entrances. It was odd, because both were leading to the same room.
After Ponta Delgada, Ze lost his way. He wanted to show me something in the mountains, but was not sure, which way to go. That was strange, I thought. For Madeira is such a small island. Ze had lived in there all his life - he should know the island really well. It was funny a little. He had to ask the way. We stopped and he asked a very old doña. She mumbled a lot and did not want leave the side of the car! Ze almost had to push her away not to run her over.
We found the way and reached São Vicente. It was not very interesting. This is where we turned back to Funchal. And still on they way Ze stopped at a local, atmospheric bar and bought me Madeira’s famous punch! Ha!
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