Khartoum

Hi all

Well, we've left the cool mountains of Ethiopia and are now in the heat and hurly-burly of Khartoum, well and truly into the zone of Arab Africa. And what a different world it is.

We crossed over into Sudan from Gonder on Thursday. The road to the border on the Ethiopian side was atrocious and cost me one flat tyre (our first in 8,000 kms) and one fancy rear shock absorber (which must have been hit by a stone and subsequently lost all its gas). As soon as we crossed over to the Sudanese side, we were on tar, much to our pleasant surprise.

One of many pleasant surprises Sudan had in store for us that day, as it turned out. We were expecting the people to be friendly (it's the one thing every traveller tells you about Sudan), but we were still taken aback by the extent of their hospitable welcoming. Everywhere we looked we were greeted by warm, friendly smiles, bereft of the begging hands we'd become used to in Ethiopia.

That night we camped wild, our first night in the desert and a special landmark for all of us. It was also a relief just to be camping again, after so much time in hotels (camping wild not being much of an option in Ethiopia, simply because of the numbers of people everywhere).

The next day we made it all the way through to Khartoum where, once again, we've been the recipient of amazing hospitality from our friends, Sean and Amy Hughes.

Just as well, because we've had to deal with some serious bureaucracy. Driving in from the border we had to stop at every town we passed through to have our passport details entered into a register. Once we got here, we then had to go and register at the Department of Aliens (visions of Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones!). And now, before we leave Khartoum for the northern desert, we have to secure travel permits from whichever government department it is that issues travel permits. By the time we've figured that out, our 14 day visas will just about have expired.

 A wonderful moment today when we met our tour guide contact for help with securing the permits (we're hoping to cross into Egypt via the land border with Sudan). Having already admitted that there wasn't much in the way of tourists in Sudan, he then confessed that in his two years as a tour guide, the sum total of groups he had guided was…..four! Not exactly a booming growth area, then!

We're in Khartoum for one more day, servicing vehicles etc, and then we head north towards Egypt. It's an utterly new experience for all of us, and we're enjoying every moment of it!

More from Egypt.....

Gus

 

Ethiopia

Greetings from Ethiopia. What an incredible country this is! We've visited the rock-hewn churches of Lalibela (800 years old - see the photo), seen the relicts of the ancient civilisation at Aksum (2,000 years old!) and wandered through the magnificent castles and palaces of Gonder that were built in the 17th and 18th century and rival anything in Europe for their opulence and splendour. Anyone who thinks Africa is backwards clearly hasn't seen Ethiopia. When Europe was in the Dark Ages, Ethiopia was one of the most advanced civilisations in the world.

 

Although some things have been very familiar to us Zimbos. Frequent power cuts, periodic fuel shortages and horrendously slow internet connections. Just to make us feel at home!

 

Thankfully the kids have enjoyed it. The long dark passageways carved into the rock, the caves, the paintings, the gold and silver crosses, the mummified bodies and (best of all) the fabulous tales of the secret hiding place of the Ark of the Covenant, have been enough to command the attention of even the youngest in our team (Max, aged 6). Yesterday they had their annual Timkat ceremony, when they take a box purportedly carrying the Ark of the Covenant out from its hiding place and parade it around town. We were there to see it, and we were duly impressed (see the attached photo).

 

Sadly we've lost Jake in the last few days. He flew down to South Africa to start his new boarding school there, and we were all mightily sorry to see him go. Monday was his first day of classes. Naturally we've heard nothing from him, but we're quietly confident he'll be fine. He's certainly the only one to have started the trip to school from an airport (Lalibela) at 2,600 metres above sea level!

 

From here we move on to Sudan on Thursday (would that be the 22^nd January?!). We'll be sad to leave Ethiopia, but mollified by the knowledge that we get a second crack at it again in March. Meanwhile, as there's no alcohol in Sudan whatsoever, we shall be drinking more than our usual quantities of beer tonight in preparation!

 

More soon!

 

Gus

 

Poles Apart

Well, we've made it from Nairobi, and here we now in what could
rightfully be called the capital of Africa, Addis Ababa. It's been an
incredible stint. We crossed the equator at Nanyuki, on the slopes of
Mount Kenya, dropped down into the wild bush of northern Kenya,
running the gamut of bandits along the fabled Moyale road, and then
climbed back up into the highlands of Ethiopia. Too much to recount in
a single blog entry, but I though I'd give you a taster by recounting
a single day that illustrates the astonishing contrasts of this part
of the world.

It was Sunday 4th January, and we woke up at Lake Paradise, a crater
lake inside Marsabit National Park, and one of my all time favourite
places. Marsabit is a mountain that rises out of the desert in
northern Kenya. While all around it is flat, dry scrub, Marsabit rises
high enough (over 2,400 metres) to create its own micro-climate, and
is shrouded in luscious cloud forest, full of elephants and buffaloes.

Despite not having to make an early start, were still up at sunrise.
The dawn was just too beautiful to miss. After a relaxed morning
enjoying this incredible venue and catching up on diaries, homework
and some long overdue tree-climbing escapades, we packed up for the
stint across the Chalbi Desert up to the Ethiopian border.

Within half an hour of leaving Marsabit we were back down to below 600
metres (we camped at 1700 metres) and in the midst of wild desert.
Although I've been to plenty of deserts before (and the Kalahari and
the Namib both count as some of my favourites), there's something very
special about the Chalbi. Not only are the roads absolutely
bone-crunchingly abysmal, but the scenery is punctuated by these
sudden volcanic mountain ranges rising up from the flat, flat desert.
Add to that the extraordinarily colourful people that you encounter in
the middle of nowhere (from fully clad Samburu warriors to the camel
trains of Ethiopian Borana), and the ever-present threat of Shifta
(Somali bandits that have been the bane of travellers in this area for
as long as anyone remembers), and you see why traversing this desert
stimulates the senses in a way that few others do.

Mid afternoon we stop for a photo opportunity. The cars have been
shaken as hard at it is possible to shake a vehicle and so far have
withstood everything we've thrown at them. But when we come to move
off, Mahali, our vehicle, won't restart. It's obviously a wire
somewhere that has been shaken loose. If we can find it and reconnect
it, all will be fine. But there are a lot of wires in a Land Cruiser,
so it might take some time. With one eye firmly fixed on the horizon
for Shifta, Robert and I roll up our sleeves and start the
examination.

After a few minutes, we're beginning to fear a problem with the
starter motor. Ordinarily this wouldn't be too serious, but Mahali is
an automatic and you can't push start her, so this will require us to
remove and replace the starter motor in the middle of the Chalbi
desert. Not everyone's idea of a good time (although secretly I'm
getting somewhat excited at the prospect of working through the night
while the kids keep watch and the mums keep the coffee flowing!).
Fortunately for everyone, I finally find the loose wire just as we're
about to start disassembling the starter. By 4pm we're back on the
move.

The next settlement we reach has a police post where the cops run a
profitable business selling armed escort services to passing
travellers. What they do is tell you horror stories of Shifta attacks
(in our case it was a Land Cruiser just like ours that had supposedly
been attacked the previous week, and the driver killed and his
passengers left stranded in the middle of the desert), and then offer
to provide an armed escort for a fee. When you have a mother and
children in the car, it takes considerable willpower to turn this
down! But, knowing this to be a fictional story, we did.

Nevertheless, as we drove the subsequent stretch, there were a few
nervous moments. A wandering nomad materialised from out of the bush
just in front of us at one point, clutching what appeared to be an
AK47 in his hand, and I was convinced we were about to be ambushed.
Drawing level with him I saw it was in fact an axe, not an AK, and
breathed a furtive sigh of relief, hoping Mands hadn't noticed me
flinching. She was too busy telling the kids a story, though, so I
got away with it!

As the sun started to set, we pulled into an isolated Catholic mission
station on the Ethiopian border, and sought refuge in the grounds of
the hospital. With characteristic generosity the hospital
administrator offered us his own personal garden as a site for our
tents. This is bandit country, and no-one questions the need to find a
safe place for the night. The last thing we hear, just as we drift off
to sleep, is a hyena outside the confines of the mission.

From here we're off up to the rock churches of Lalibela in northern
Ethiopia. On Monday we collect our visas for Sudan, too, which opens
up the way for the next leg, and then on Saturday we bid a sad
farewell to Jake, who flies down to South Africa to start his boarding
school. His departure signals an end to the holiday and the start of
"normal" life as a family on the road in Africa. That means schooling
for the kids during the day and homework at night. Universal groans
all round!

Not sure when we'll next get to an internet connection. Probably
Khartoum around the 24th of Jan. Till then, then……