Kilimanjaro at last

 We reached Nairobi after midnight, having left Isiolo after 5pm. That was a drive and a half. Our friends the Stegens welcomed us with open arms, fed us royally and gave us beds. Next morning we welcomed the next crew of drivers: Ian, Jason, and Chris, all work colleagues of Andy's from N.I. We all managed to catch the midday shuttle bus to Arusha and by Friday evening had booked into our hotel in Arusha, and were sorting out our stuff for the climb which was due to begin on Saturday. The drive from Arusha to the start of the climb takes a good few hours because you need to visit the main gate in the Kili National Park first to register, then you head for your starting gate. In our case it was on the opposite (north) side of the mountain so we didn't get started until after 3pm on the Saturday. Fortunately it was a short leg.

This photo shows our second last camp on the way up, high on the slopes of Kilimanjaro, next to Mount Mwenzi. Next day we crossed the high saddle plateau to what they call "Base Camp" at Kibo huts. From there we were due to begin the summit ascent at midnight and hopefully reach the summit between 6 and 7am on Thursday morning.

Looks like we made it. We took a day and half to get right back down off the mountain! We said goodbye to our team of guides and porters back in Arusha at our hotel, spent Friday night there, and caught the bus back to Nairobi the next day. Lorraine and I flew out of Nairobi on the Tuesday morning. See the continuing journey on surfingafrica.net

The road to Nairobi

From Kombolcha we made it to Addis by mid afternoon and joy of joy, found our recommended camping site fairly easily. It was an oasis of green near the railway station in the heart of town. The only trouble was - barking dogs! From sundown to sunrise, they howled, chorused, revelled, socialised, held barking competitions, and generally did their darndest to keep us awake. This however was not what decided us to move on, rather it was the realisation that we had only just enough time to make our rendezvous with our Kilimanjaro climb organiser in Arusha, Tanzania, on Saturday 5th March if we pushed on rapidly now. This late realisation blew our second night in Addis out of the water and forced us to commit to being on the road to reach Nairobi by Thursday 3rd, pick up next driving crew on the Friday from the airport, and get down to Arusha by Friday night. We were due to meet our man at 8am Saturday morning. So, no tourism I'm afraid. So from Addis on to Dilba where after much searching we found shelter in the compound of the "Get Smart" hotel. We did, and overnighted there. Then down to Moyale on the border between Ethiopia and Kenya, where after a relatively easy border crossing after a wait of about 2 hours while the border officials had lunch, and an interesting attempt to buy diesel from three garages in Ethiopia where they all wanted more than the official petrol pump price, until we managed to persuade one petrol station boss that we were genuine travellers and not Kenyans trying to get a cheap fill up, we found on the other side, a Catholic Mission with quiet grounds where they let us stay the night. About midnight we heard loud revellers beating a noisy homeward path. Manchester United had been playing, and won.

 The road south from Moyale to Isiolo  is over a hundred miles of nasty, corrugated, lumpy, bumpy vehicle bending breaking dirt road which if you are lucky you may manage to drive unscathed in a day and a half. We bust a radiator and an automatic transmission oil system. We limped into Isiolo about 3pm after a wonderful night at Henry's Place in Marsabit, the usual overnight spot for travellers on this road. We also saw elephant, deer, warthog and camels in abundance.

Radiator repairs in Isiolo. Andy removed it and the guy in the shack repaired it.

Lalibela to Addis Ababa.

 The road out from Lalibela was another 40km or so of dirt road, some of it sensationally rucked and rumpled. We then had another long descent on tarmac which took its toll on our brakes. Eventually we had none, and resorted to chucking the car into lowest gear and praying for it to stop. On reflection, and taking the path of least resistance and labour, we decided to bleed the brakes, on the assumption that maybe the fluid had boiled and created air bubbles. This being the only show around we soon had an audience of children and young people, who laughed rudely when Andrew got some brake fluid in his eye. An older man in the crowd laid into the kids with a stout stick, which improved their attitude somewhat. The bleeding seemed to do the trick and we beetled off towards the nearest town to buy some more brake fluid.

Having had the delay with the brakes, we realised Addis in one day from Lalibela woud be impossible, and so we broke the journey by overnighting in Kombolcha, where we found refuge at the Tempole Hotel, where a Man United Match was in full swing on TV, accompanied by a commentary in a rich Scottish accent.

The Lalibela Rock Churches

 After a night plagued by the noise of barking dogs and wedding revellers,  we switched hotels (or rather hotel compounds - a cheaper way of availing oneself of hotel facilities by in effect camping in the hotel grounds) to a beautifully situated hotel on the outskirts of town, "The Mountain View Hotel". Our second night was much quieter!

 We decided we needed a bit of excercise so after obtaining the services of a guide, Tessfau, we asked him to take us up a nearby hill, a spectacular rock massif, and he told us that there was a monastery up there which we could visit. So, in increasing heat and dust we climbed up an amazing mountain path which alone would have done justice to many a challenging path that we have climbed in the past, and arrived at our first church carved out of the solid rock.You can see the spectacular situation it enjoyed!

 After lunch we visited the more popular sites, and saw the iconic buildings which had been hewn out of the ground. They are still used for worship, which makes them all the more wonderful.Apparently King Lalibela at whose behest the more majestic churches were constructed had had a vision in which he was told that Lalibela would in effect become an alternative Jerusalem, and that he was to carve out 12 rock churches. He used so many labourers that this immense piece of construction was completed in a comparatively short time.

Lalibela at dusk

 Taken from the verandah restaurant of the hotel in Lalibela, by weary grateful travellers!

Bahir Dar to Lalibela

The road to Lalibela, home of the UNESCO World Heritage Site Rock Churches, is mental, in more ways than one. It ascends over hundreds of kilometers to a high plateau of about 2,500 meters in height, involving a road trip of stunning beauty and alpine type twists, turns and ascents.

 There were so many places we wanted to stop and take photos that had we done so we would still be there. If this had been in Europe there would have been a view point every 100 meters or so. As it was, all we got every now and then were groups of workmen doing repairs or adding finishing touches under the watchful eye of the Chinese engineers whose government is financing many of the roads in Ethiopia.

Eventually the road to Lalibela itself becomes a 40 km dirt road, which leads you a merry dance over arid valleys and dry river beds, giving for an extended off road experience of challenging proportions, especially when you tag it onto the end of an already long day full of driving. We considered ourselves fortunate to have arrived in Lalibela before nightfall.

Bahir Dar

 Bahir Dar sits on the southern end of a large lake called Lake Tana. The place is dotted with islands and peninsulas which hold monasteries in profusion, many of which were founded during the 14th Century. We opted to visit a monastery on the Zege Peninsula, which is famed for its incredible jumble of murals depicting bibical scenes. These are between 100 and 250 years old. The road out to the Peninsula was a fairly hairy dirt road, which went on for more kilometers than we had reckoned, and terminated in a small village from which a footpath led to the monastery. We had picked a festival day to visit and the place was crowded with pilgrims and vendors of a variety of souvenirs and tat, plus the usual suspects trying to sell us guiding services or anything else that human ingenuity can come up with. We were quite peckish by the time we reached the village so we picked a local eatery to have lunch in. This got rid of the touts for a while, as they had the good sense not to accompany us inside. The food consists of the main dish served on a bed of sour cooked dough called injera, made from tef. It is fermented for around three days before it's used. In this restaurant we had scrambled egg on our injera. You eat it with your fingers, wrapping injera round the meat or egg in the middle.This meal came with another type of bread as well, which you don't always get.

The circular church was "guarded" by a man toting a genuine rifle. We were of course pleased to pay the admission price and take our shoes off at his behest. Turned out he was a deacon in the church, but that didn't prevent him asking for yet more money at the end of our visit. Is this the way forward for our deacons? Kalashnikovs and entrance fees?

 Rush boats like these are still used by fishermen on the lake. On the return journey we got stuck for a while behind a lorry, and you can see the dust it kicked up on the road. We were glad to get past it.