Seasons on the Move

Mesket Enscarpment to Lalibela – February 13

We caught a ride by the side of the road near the bottom of the enscarpment. The mini-van took us north to Lalibela, home to rock hewn churches and the centre of the Ethiopian Orthodox world. Oure trekking days were over.

We stumbled upon Michael and Matthais, who had left us in Gonder and went further north to Axum, at a restaurant at the top of a punishing hill – Ethiopia is full of them. We dined with them and then went to another azmari joint to take in some traditional music.

The place was actually more of a tej beat than a proper azmari place. Tej is an Ethiopian honey wine that is served in laboratory beakers. Fab and I slammed back a few beakers and then decided to leave. The azmaris were subpar and the tej too strong. Besides, we had rock hewn churches to see the next day. We bid farewell to the Germans, telling them to visit us in Canada, and retired for the evening.

Mesket Enscarpment – February 12

The trek to Yadukulay, the third and final stop on our trip, was anything but easy. The entire walk was down the rocky face of a steep hill. My knees took a beating and Fab twisted her ankle. It was impossible to find solid footing, although you wouldn’t know it by the amount of Ethiopians that constantly flew by us. It was like walking down a landslide. As Julian said, ”Who in their right mind thought this would be a good trekking route?”

We got to Yadukulay just before sunset. To celebrate our punishment incurred during the day, Fab and I downed a bunch of Bedele beers.  We were joined by another trekking group later in the evening. It consisted of two boring Canadians from Victoria and a smart ass limey from Sheffield.

The other group’s guide, Mariam, gave me a history lesson around the camp fire. She hated Hallie Sellassie, thought he was out of touch and full of himself (the rest of the Ethiopians present disagreed), admired Menelik – who she called the great importer and improver, and idolized Tewedros, the great innovator, inspirational force and unifier of Ethiopia. Like almost everyone else in Ethiopia, Mariam despired the Derg, the Communist party that overthrew Selassie and plunged the country into decades of war. Oh yes, and Mariam also told us that the older generation of people in the country still say, “I swear to Haille Selassie” when they want to ensure others about their truthfullness.

Mesket Enscarpment – February 11

The walk during the day was easier than the first, more of a leisurely stroll than a trek. We took our time over the 16km distance and had a drawn out lunch underneath some acacia trees, sipping warm soft drinks and eating cold injera. After finishing, we stopped by a monastery to watch some ongoing restoration work.

We approached the site for the night, Atero, through a wind swept field bustling with gelada baboons. Like a lot of Ethiopians, Esubayu considered the baboons a nuisance and tossed rocks at them to get them out of our way. Fab told him to stop. He did. Too bad he didn’t throw rocks at the kids that threw rocks at us when we passed through a village along the way.

Because Atero is at a higher altitude than Wajela, the night was considerably cooler. I don’t think the temperature was too much lower, but the site is perched on a unprotected bluff overlooking the valley and the wind was fierce. When we retired for the evening, the candles we had lit in our room quickly melted into hardened pools on account of the substantial draft sneaking in through the sod walls.

Mesket Enscarpment – February 10

We met our trekking group by the side of the road mid-morning. Along with Jules, Fab and I, there was an older Irish couple from Belfast, John and Carmella. With them was Esubayu, our guide for the trip. Our packs were packed on the pack mules and then we were off.

Compared with the trekking in the Simien Mountains, the walk along the enscarpment was a piece of cake. Aside from one rocky yet gentle slope, there was nothing challenging about the day. The views weren’t as impressive either, but then again the Simien Mountains are a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

We got to the camp after a few hours of walking, just in time to have a pancake snack with home made honey and hot tea. I took the opportunity to take an ice cold open air shower in a reed enclosed cubicle overlooking the surrounding valley. Fab sat and read “Lolita” on the edge of the enscarpment and basked in the warm sun.

Our accommodation for the evening was in individual tukuls, small round sod houses with thatched roofs. The site, Wajela, was newly constructed so all the bed linen, which contained intricate stitch work, was fresh and clean. At night, after an injera dinner and  traditional coffee ceremony, we retired to our rooms and read our books by candle light.

Gonder to Filakit – February 9

We got on a bus to Filakit, a small town that apparently no Ethiopian had ever heard of, at five in the morning. By noon the bus had broken down in the middle of nowhere. Fab, Julian and I, along with David, an American we had met in the wee hours of the morning, sat sweating in the bus for five frustrating hours. Kids outside the bus poked at us with sticks and yelled “Faranji, faranji!” for hours on end.

Around five o’clock we decided to give up on the bus and hitch our way to Filakit, about 20km down the road. We were accompanied by a group of small children that mocked us and threw rocks at us from behind. Seriously, the children in this country are out of control.

We had no luck with our thumbs until we came upon a road construction site operated by a Chinese company. David convinced the foreman, River, a young Chinese man with coke bottle glasses, to give us a ride to Filakit in one of the team’s dump trucks. Us faranjis got into the front cab while a group of Ethiopians piled into the back.

Within fifteen minutes we were in Filakit, just as the sun disappeared for the day. Since the broken down bus had forced most people to overnight in Filakit, we couldn’t find a room. Luckily, the group we were due to trek with, TESFA, was affiliated with the Save the Children office in town and they had vacant rooms.

We traded our left over food from the Simien Mountains trek for a couple of rooms and a home cooked meal and dined by candle light (the power was out). David told us about his work with an NGO in Uganda and how he was raised in Madagascar and Tanzania. Fab and I talked about our trip and Jules silently fumed because David was drinking all of his water.  

Gonder – February 8

We spent the entire day in the hotel compound soothing our ankles and washing our clothes. The Simien Mountains had covered everything we owned in a thin, fine layer of dust. I read Saul Bellow and sipped macchiatos. Fab drank tea and perused Nabokov. Michael and Matthais paid a visit to the man who promised us a 4WD and demanded a partial refund. Jules drank Coca Cola and wrote in his journal. The next day, we were due to begin another trek along the Mesket Enscarpment.

Simien Mountains to Gonder – February 7

We froze during the night and awoke with frost covering the outside of our tent. The puny sleeping bags we had rented in Debark didn’t do anything to ward off the cold. Both Fab and I tossed and turned throughout the night. The altitude made it hard to get comfortable.

We had a minor skirmish with the cook after breakfast. She had bought too much food and it looked as though she intended to keep the extras. The problem was not so much that there was food left over, it was that we had paid for food that we never ate and she obviously had no intention of cooking. On top of that, some of the food that we bought (and didn’t eat) was missing. We politely asked for the rest of the food which the cook begrudgingly handed over after Gemma argued with her in Amharic.

Our final trek of the trip took us up from Geech camp towards Imet Gogo, supposedly the finest lookout in the mountains. Unfortunately, we didn’t quite make it there on account of Michael’s problems with the altitude and his stomach. Instead, we stopped at a narrow viewpoint overlooking the Geech Abyss. Down the side of the adjacent hillside we saw Walia Ibex timidly peering out from a cave and gelada baboons fighting over territory. Giant Lobelia trees and volcanic rock surrounded us. We took in the views for a while before beginning our descent.  

The walk back was gruelling, all loose stones, uneven ground and steep hillside. My knees were punished severely. The final portion of the trip took us through dusty farmland. Children covered in dust tended to flocks of sheep and shouted, “Fananji, You! You!” as we passed by. The wind was howling and our entire group struggled to keep the swirling dirt out of our mouths, ears and eyes.

We were met on the side of the road by a mini-van hired to return us to Gonder. We had paid for a 4WD so we were all a little pissed about the prospect of a ride back over the bumpy gravel road leading out of the park.  Sure enough, what should have been a two hour ride in a Land Cruiser turned into a four hour ride in a bone rattling mini-van going 20km an hour. Yet another argument was going to have to take place once we got back to town.

Simien Moutains – February 6

We awoke in the morning to a heated argument between Gemma, our guide, and a bunch of mule handlers. The handlers wanted to use three mules to carry our gear, but Gemma figured we only needed two. Gemma lost the argument. To make sure they weren’t ripping us off, Gemma took us to see the mules being loaded. All three were used. I actually quite like mules, find them aesthetically pleasing, with their rabbit-like ears and humble disposition, the way they look to the ground as if shamed by the fact that they are not horses. I also like their mohawk hair-dos. Horses, with their free flowing manes, remind me of arrogant heavy metal stars. I’ve always been more partial to punk rock.

The trek was much harder than the day before. We went from peak to plateau to valley and back again. I’m not sure whether going up was harder than going down. Up was harder on the lungs, down harder on the knees. It didn’t help that I was wearing sneakers and not proper hiking boots.

We lunched by a small creek surrounded by gelada baboons before making the final ascent toward Geech camp. As we neared 3700m, the altitude began to take its toll. Suddenly, the colours seemed more intense, I had a headache, felt giddy and my ears were ringing. I know that 37oom is not all that high, but it was the highest point on planet earth that I had ever been to.

We stopped to for a rest in a small village and were immediately surrounded by kids selling warm Coca Cola and St. George beer. One girl played faranji mind games with me by holding out a handful of blue eggs and whispering, “One birr, One birr,” all the while rolling her R’s to extreme lengths. Other children, covered in dust with dried snot encrusted beneath their noses, spoke Amharic in hushed tones to me and giggled when it became clear that I had no idea what they were saying.

I got about another twenty meters up the hill before I had to stop. I felt light headed and my legs were buckling underneath me. Matthias gave me a glucose tablet to dissolve in my mouth. The pill gave me a burst of energy that I am convinced got me to the top of the hill. Michael, still struggling with a stomach virus, needed a tablet to get him moving as well. However, while Matthias was sympathetic to my condition, he playfully harassed Michael with taunts in a thick German accent, “Look at you. You are weak! The little boy and the girl are stronger than you. You are not a man, you are a child!”

W e got to Geech camp just as the sun was going down. By nightfall, the temperature had dropped near zero degrees. After dinner, we warmed ourselves around a camp fire and stared up at the sky, now ablaze with pin pricks of light. The moon was tucked into the black back pocket of the sky and the Milky Way cast a blurry band across the hemisphere like a giant fade out to white. It was nights like these that I wished I knew more about the constellations.

Simien Mountains – February 5

We got picked up a 5am and transported to the Simien Mountains park headquarters in Debark. On the way there, the truck got a flat tire. This caused every child in the surrounding area to rush over to the vehicle to get a look at the five faranjis. A couple of the kids spoke basic English, just enough to entertain the rest of the kids that didn’t. We stood around like zoo animals unsure as to what to do.

Putting together the trek at the park headquarters was a snap. We had everything worked out within ten minutes. Good thing we didn’t eat it and book a trek in Gonder. We piled back into the 4WD with our guide, scout and cook – all easily affordable – a sped out to Bujit Ras, the spot where our trek would begin.

At Bujit Ras, we got out of the vehicle with Jemma and Jemma, our guide and scout. Just off the side of the road, a little ways past Bujit Ras camp, there were hundreds of gelada baboons, a primate endemic to the Ethiopia highlands. Geladas are best known for their “bleeding hearts”, patches of pink flesh on their chests which become engorged with blood when they are either aroused or enraged. Our trekking group walked out into the middle of the large pack and sat down to watch them as they picked roots out from the dry earth.

Our trek continued along the enscarpment and provided grand views of the mountain range, formed by years of volcanic activity. I thought the area looked similar to the Grand Canyon although much different in shape and scope. The landscape had muted colours and the yellow grass and faded greens of the trees made the blue sky pop in contrast. The walking was fairly easy but we stopped continuously to take in the scenery.

We reached Sankaber (3250m) camp in the late afternoon. As we approached the camp, a domesticated baboon ran down to greet us. The little primate took to Fab immediately and followed her around for the rest of the day. Fab named the female baboon Petra and played with her in between the tents at the camp. Petra even searched Fabiola’s head for fleas and plucked out her leg hair, shoving the findings into her mouth. Unfortunately, an American hag got her guide to chase Petra out of the camp, proclaiming that “it was only a matter of time before the baboon starts attacking people.” This caused her guide to whack at Petra with a long, thin reed. Fab yelled at the guide and told the bitch off. Good for her.

Gonder - February 4

We checked out of our flea bag motel and checked into some more comfortable digs. In the forecourt of our new hotel, we met two German guys, Michael and Matthais, who had unfortunately arrived too late to grab a room. Both of them were studying soil in southern Ethiopia and were using their school break to travel around the north, in particular the Simien Mountains, which was good news for us because we were looking to put together a trekking group. Michael was deathly ill with a stomach virus so we helped them find another hotel.

In the afternoon, we went down to the Royal Enclosure (Fasil Ghebbi). The 17th century castle complex, made from rock hewn stones – an Ethiopian specialty, had four domed towers 32 meters in height, a crenulated parapet and was considerably damaged by British bombing in the 1940’s during a campaign against Italian occupation forces. Inside the complex, trees dropped lavender petals onto the gravel pathways creating a soft, purple blanket.  We had the entire complex to ourselves so we lingered for a while, taking our time to discover the place and enjoy the tranquil environment.

We walked two kilometers out of town to reach the other signifigant site in Gonder, Debra Berhan Selassie Church. Erected in the 18th Century, Debra Selassie is known for it’s ecclesiastical artwork, in particular the 104 cherubs painted on the interior roof. The church is enclosed by a stone wall featuring twelve towers representing the apostles along with a thirteenth tower representing Christ constructed to resemble the Lion of Judah.

The artwork inside the church was impressive. There is something about the Ethiopian style of painting that I really like. It has a certain innocence, like children’s drawings, although the skill involved in the paintings contained within the church were far removed from that of an amateur. An old priest in a long yellow robe showed us around and informed us about the biblical legends depicted on the walls. He even let us sneak a peek in the inner sanctuary of the church, something not often seen by tourists.

At night, we met back up with Matthais (Michael was still out of commission) and arranged for a vehicle to take us to the Simien Mountains the following morning. The prices for pre-booked treks were ridiculous so Fab, Jules and I, along with the Germans, decided that it would be best to go to the park headquaters and figure things out for ourselves. Besides, it seemed wrong (and lazy) to pay someone an exhorbent fee simply to avoid the hassle of putting together a trek.