|
The roads in Northern Ethiopia are such that you have
two choices for
travel, you can fly or you can take three days in a
bus.
The biggest
problem with the buses is that the Ethiopians believe
that fresh air is
actually a deadly gas, so the windows remain firmly
closed. This is in spite
of arid heat and a proliferation of chickens and goats
inside the buses.
Faced with these choices we decided to not take the
ethnic option.
Flying on Ethiopian Airlines however is also an
ethnic option. Though the planes are only 10 years
old, the aircraft
stink. And so we came to Lalaibela and the hidden
churches of central
Ethiopia. The churches would have been amazing in that
they had been hewn
from the rock, but they were covered in archaeologists
scaffolding. I
decided to hike up to a monastery and see that
instead.
The air got thinner as I crossed the 10,000 ft mark.
But the tiresome
teenagers still followed me up. I finally squeezed
through a fissure in the
rock to find the monastery covered in scaffolding.
"Bollocks" I muttered and walked down. But not before
I had paid my two
dollar entry fee. The church may be many things in
Ethiopia, but Poor it is not. They charge like raging
rhinos for
entrance fees, supply you with poor guides who then
proceed to harass
you for tips.
"He mister what about teep for guide"
"But Winston, I told you to fuck off three hours ago,
you've pissed me
off, followed me, and now you want money for not
leaving me alone.. I think
not"
" I am sorry"
"So you should be"
"NO! I am very sorry"
"Yes so you should be"
"NO No, you do not understand, I am sad"
"Oh, tough shit so you should be"
Ethiopia is ruined by the touts and teenagers who will
not leave you
alone and demand money for "services". This is almost
demanding money with
menace.
The menace being that they will not leave you ever, until you
engage one of them. Some idiot tourist must have paid
them too much money in the past.
Another series of short flights had us in Addis. We
steeled ourselves for
the 18 hour train ride to Harar, the muslim city state
of the east. The
train line would drop 1500 metres on the hundred year
old tracks that were
once built to link Addis with the Sea. The present
tensions and thus
closed border with Eritrea have given the train a new
importance. There is
no sealed road to Djibouti, only a dusty track that
all the tankers and
lorries have to struggle through. The railway allows a
smooth passage of
freight. Well smooth by African standards. The
irony... there is a perfect
paved road that goes to Assab, the port of Eritrea.
But the train was not to be, I caught a horrific
bronchitic cough and
Charles was subjected to Haile Selassie's revenge. So
we spent two days in
Addis. I e-mailed and read, Charlie slowly groaned his
was back to
humanity. After he had recovered slightly we decided
to hire a driver and
Landcruiser and head off to the Awash National Park.
The road out of Addis
dropped down to 1500m and we cruised out of the rain
into the warm sunshine
of the Ethiopian lowlands.
"This is the home of the Ethiopian Airforce" said
Abebe our 40 year old
driver. "In the Derg (commie) time they were too
popular"
"Really, why?"
"Because we spent so much money on the Airforce, they
had lots of pilots,
very good pilots. Now they are living lovely lives in
Harare or Kenya."
"Doing what?"
"They fled, after the Derg left they fled, and they
now train the other
airforces of the world" His voice had an edge of
resentment in it.
Abebe confirmed my suspicions that Ethiopia did waste
it's money on aicraft
and arms. He also acted like every other Ethiopian, he
had the "we are
Ethiopians, we are strong, we are right" attitude. It
would be admirable if
his nation hadn't just missed another famine last
year.
Ethiopia is supposed to be in drought, and yet it
pissed down with rain in
the North, the West, the Centre and the East. I
suppose the drought is a
shortage of sensible government, not rain.
Awash Park was beautiful, it consisted of African
plains, and incredible
mountain behind, (MT Fantale) and the 300m deep river
gorge on the other
side. There were no lions, but the birds and deer/ibex
thingies were
stunning.
Abebe was such a nice chap, but there was one thing he
couldn't do. And
that was drive. Twice he bogged our Landcruiser. Once
I managed to get him
out by putting Charlie on the bumper and driving out,
but the second time
he panicked and revved the engine so hard that he
sank us in to our
chassis. His company had provided no spade, no sand
ladders, no rope, no
highlift Jack. And so we dug with our hands. And we
dug and we dug and we
dug.
"Abebe Does this vehicle have Differential lock"
" NO"
"Right......" I started digging deeper. It was a
thankless task. In three
years in Africa I had never been bogged like this.
This was the "unprepared
nightmare". Abebe was so nice throughout the whole
process that we could
not feel angry with him,. and digging in mud with your
hands is great fun.
(not).The Armed scout who accompanied us dug too.
Charlie dug at the read
axle while I dug the front. We found wood and trees
to stuff under the
wheels. We used the shenzy mechanical jack on a stone
to get some leverage
off the mud and break the suction. And we dug, and we
dug. The light faded
and we dug!
"When will it get dark?" I shouted at Charlie.
"10 minutes"
"Oh no..."
We dug harder. The mud caked in our fingernails,
thorns in the soil
scratched at our hands, our clothes became plastered
and we dug and we
scraped with a fury. Then I hopped in the vehicle,
placed the others
carefully to bring the weight over the unbogged wheels
and then I drove. No
where. The car didn't move.
"Great!"
The sun dropped below the horizon. We were bogged in
the African Bush.
Around us were animals and shifta.
"******** Brilliant"
"The Scout says one of you should go with him and get
help" said Abebe
helpfully.
"Cool, I'll go" I wanted some exercise.
And so Zowudu shouldered his AK 47, I grabbed some
water and we set off to
find help. The little Ethiopian's pace was incredibly
fast. I stumbled to
keep up. The Sky was now deep purple and grey.
"Look IBEX" he whispered as the animals cantered up to
look at us.
"Look Dik Dik"
"Look Bird" Zowudu kept on pointing stuff out. What I
did not want to hear
was "look Lion". I had visions of him squeezing the
entire magazine off with
his eyes shut and then our being at the mercy of the
Animal!
"Hey Zowudu, if we see a lion, give me the gun. Me
Good shot, bang! Once
Lion Deadi!"
Zowudu looked at me uncomprehendingly. I made a mental
note to snatch the
AK from him if the worst came to the worst. I worried
that I would not be
able to find the single shot selector switch in the
dark. I had not fired a
communist weapon since Australia in 1992. I knew where
the cocking handle
was, and I could remember roughly where the selector
switch was, but could
I do all of this in the dark, remain calm, and drop a
lion with an
underpowered warsaw pact 7.62 round? Why had Zowudu
not brought a .303???
Idiot.
My biggest fear was a pack of Hyenas. They were far
more viscous than
lions, and Zowudu told me he only had 21 rounds of
ammunition.
On and on we strode. Were almost running now. It was
completely dark apart
from fork lightening that lit up the sky. A cool wind
blew and I zipped up
my fleece.
I thought "some people pay hundreds of dollars for
this experience" Then I
actually started to enjoy myself. here I was walking
through the african
bush with my own personal scout at night. It was
wonderful. My mind
wandered and I listened to all the animals as the 9
kilometres drew to a
close.
"Hawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu"
"Hyena" Hissed Zowudu.
"Hawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu"
The call was longer and closer now.
"Hmmmm great" I muttered.
Just then Zowudu started shouting at something. The
something shouted back.
There was a pause and then an unmistakable:
"Clunk"
"OHhhhhhhhh fuuuuuuuuccccccccccck!"
Someone had just chambered a round in a rifle. I
drooped back yards behind
Zowudu and prepared to throw myself to the ground.
The shouting increased, Zowudu moved further towards
the clunk sounding
more agitated. As the old expression goes my heart
stopped. Someone was
about to start shooting. The voices changed and Zowudu
beckoned me on,
"No problem" He shouted.
"I strode over to an old man under a tree.
"Tenatellen Windimi" (Hello brother) "Oh look at that
rifle, what is that
lets have a look"
The old man grinned a toothless smile. He opened the
bolt and Pushed the
chambered round down into the magazine. I snatched the
303 jungle carbine
from him. I pulled the magazine off, cleared the bolt
and fired the empty
chamber.
"I'll just hold onto this for a while if you don't
mind." I slipped the
magazine back in. I was not keen to be armed, I was
keen to be around
disarmed people. Guns at night in African hands are
dangerous and I was
worried. Eventually a supervisor arrived and we
chatted in the total
darkness.
"My friend the park vehicle is not here"
"Do you have radio contact?"
"Our radio is maybe broken"
"Maybe or definitely"
"Definitely"
"Right well now what?"
"Our vehicle will maybe return in some time"
"Maybe or definitely"
"Oh definitely"
"Right" I handed the old man his 303 rifle back, (made
safe with the safety
catch firmly on!) and lay down on the earth.
"Wake me when the truck comes" I said and fell asleep.
An hour later the landcruiser appeared, with much
cajoling seven Scouts
piled into it, they drove to our vehicle, pulled us
out. (with some
technical assistance from myself) and we drove off to
sleep in the camp.
The drive back the next day was uneventful, I flew out
the day after that,
convinced Kenya Airways that I was a commercially
important person, got
lodged in the Hilton Nairobi and flew on to Zanzibar
where you find me
today. Air traffic control made their usual screw up
and asked Nkwazi the
Kenya Airways captain to Land on top of Abdul the Gulf
Air 767 captain.
Luckily Nkwazi was no fool and we overshot the runway
and circled until
Abdul departed the runway. (very slowly I hasten to
add). There were 300
people crammed into Zanzibar Airport, and the baggage
handlers worked like
demons to unload both aircraft by hand. Thirty minutes
after landing I was
standing in the Zanzibari Sunshine.
It's good to be back by the sea.
|
