Up to the North!

We applied for the Visas on Monday – which was surprisingly easy after all the negative feedback we had gotten (We cancelled the tourist application, as that is a nightmare – go for the transit visa if you ever have the need). It only took a few smiles, some photo copies $61 and 3 hours of our time. A semi pleasant experience, considering we picked a day when there were about 400 locals applying for work permits.

But that all worked out, as Jared mentioned we got them Visas! They look amazing, they have a hologram and everything, definitely added some street cred to our passports!

Getting them meant we could leave the bad odour city known as Addis, and head for the greater Northern part of the country. (Just to clarify, I strangely did enjoy our time in Addis, it’s a really cool place, it really is. The place has everything you would expect in a big city, and since everything is so cheap, we took full advantage, and made the most of it. Coffee is generally R1,50 and it’s really good, a meal that an average man will struggle to finish is around R10, and most importantly a draft is R2,00! On top of that we had an insanely cool hotel room, and due to all the embassy visits, got to see most of Addis! There are just some things there that are different to what were used to, like the distinct and constant faeces odour – Let me quote Mattie here “The proportion of my day that I spend smelling pooh is ridiculous” and the city has a disturbingly large amount of poverty, with no evident, or remotely logical structure at all – Jared quote here – “It seems like the city is designed by a beginner playing Sim City 2000”.

So let me fill you in on all the gaps, the reason for the slack updates is that the Internet is a bit of a scarce resource up in the North, but now that I found a decent place and need to download all the pics from lalibela, I thought I would take the honour of the general update!

Back in Addis we met a really cool Dutch chick, Esther, at our hotel, who is doing volunteer work in a school in Debra Zeit which is just South of Addis. After our visa application on Monday we decided to go visit the place down South to get out of the city for a while , and see the impressive lakes! It was only an hour on the bus, and once there we took a horse drawn cart to the Crater Lake, where we were planning to camp. We all packed lightly, as it was only to be a one day event. This meant that Jared and Mattie decided against bringing a sleeping bag or any other such luxuries hehe, The lake was amazing, I have photos, but internet is slow, so they will come some time later – same goes for the rest of the story too, I’m really sorry… The sun set, and the temperature started to drop a little, so we started to search the bags, and found all the essentials! We had an ipod, little speakers, a torches, tabard, a lighter, and… well we didn’t need anything as you can see the three of us are starting to make a good team! Real hardy travellers! Anyway, apparently… They don’t like farangies (How locals refer to us white folk) to just randomly camp on the side of the lake, so for the rest of the night we had an angry guard telling us to leave in Amharic, and numerous random guys, who did speak English translating and trying to get money out of us. To make a long story short, we had a great time, but due to lack of warmth, rock hard pebbled stoned floor, constant dog barking, and never ending groans of discomfort none of us really slept, at all. Except for Esther, who proved to us she can sleep anywhere any time, under any conditions. The next day was a bit tiresome, but ended really well, when we were given our Visas! We drew money, booked bus tickets and went home to sleep.

Up at 4, to catch the bus we had been dreading for days. Reason being, the trip to lalibela is a 23 hour bus trip, on a bus very similar to a golden Arrow bus as you get in cape Town. Another thing that makes bus travel in Ethiopia uncomfortable is that people are very superstitious and don’t believe in opening windows as it lets in disease and bad luck. So we really weren’t that keen.

But once we got on we were ushered into the “VIP” section in the front of the bus and spent the next to days in our own little “section” with the bus driver and the conductor! It was glorious, it was nothing like our prior horror story of the Moyale-Addis trip. This one was pure luxury! So we got to lalibela well rested, and set up our camp at the Lal hotel. We convinced Esther, who has been in Ethiopia for 3 months already but never ventured North, to join us. Even though she got screwed around a bit by the highly effective Ethiopian airline systems, and is really scared of flighing, she made it to lalibela only 6 hours later than expected. It was awesome to have some more company and to finally find someone, who actually followed up their word on meeting us somewhere! Thanks Esther! You’re awesome! hehe,

While we waited for her, we got ourselves a guide and went to see the Northern and Eastern monasteries of Lalibela. They are amazing! It is insanely difficult to comprehend what they really are. Let me give you a very brief history lesson… When King Lalibella’s was in power, which was at around 1260, the man had the great idea to create churches. But instead of building them, he summoned 40 000 men, and got them to carve 11 immense churches out of the mountains! By hand! It took 23 years to complete, and they are astounding! All chipped away out of the mountains, all 11 stand there in all their glory. The guide was great, and as you can imagine, I went wild with the photos. The first church we arrived at in the morning, had a full service going on, and the stairway to heaven was lit up in all its glory! The three of us also visited the room in one of the churches dedicated to King lalibela, which guarantees us a place in heaven, so we’re set for life!

All the churches are still in full use, and each one has its own priest who looks after everything. We had never seen so many different crosses before, as each church has a different variation of a cross, and we were shown each one. The best part was that each priest puts on a pair of shades before you can take their picture, to protect their eyes form the flash –classic!

At 4, Esther finally arrived, and made it just in time to see the most famous church of all, St George cathedral. This is the church that is carved in the shape of a cross, and is built with no supporting pillars inside. To sum in all up, it was an excellent day, and we all feel holy!

We spent the night trying out the local beverage, Ethiopian Ouzo, which led to a very eventful night. Which may have ended the life of a pool table, and a slight disturbance of peace in the very tranquil Lal hotel resort. But in the morning, no-one seemed to have minded, so no harm done. Only an immense hangover with Jared, Mattie and Esther. I for some reason was wide awake at 6, and went for a walk, only to stumble onto a Mass service at the St Mary’s Cathedral. I watched this for the full procession, and found the 3 of them slowly coming to life when I got back to the tent. As you can imagine, the rest of the day was a bit slow, but we did give Esther the full tour of all the churches again, as she missed those, and had a day at the market. We almost bought ourselves a donkey, as they go for only Birr400, but when we considered the extra travelling costs we would have to endure with busses etc we decided against it!

This morning, we got up at 3, and made the trek up to the bus station at the top of the 3km high mountain of Lalibela. It only took us 30 minutes, which was really impressive! I thought. However, when we got there we were informed that there were no busses to bar Har Dar, and we should just get a bus in that general direction. So we did. It was classic!! Mattie and I sat on one side and Jared and Esther on the other. As you may have heard, the farming population of Ethiopia is not big on motion by motorised vehicles. So there we were at 4 in the morning, on a bumpy dirt road in some very uncomfortable seats, when the people both in front and behind Jared and Esther started getting a little nautious and throwing up… All the time!! It was hilarious, they both put their feet up, as the gunk was slowly moving around! Mattie and I were in hysterics! We had to turn up the volume on the ipods to block out the horrific sounds! It was so so good, really made our day – well Mattie and Mine at least! Then when we got to the end point we found a Land Cruiser bakkie, who agreed to drive us to Bah har dar! Much to the dismay of the bus driver also waiting for clients, who accused the guy of stealing his customers! It didn’t end there thought, the agro bus driver ended up blocking the whole road with his bus and demanded we came with him! It was quite a scene, it attracted the attention of everyone in the town, who formed a mob around us. People seem to have a lot of free time around here hehe. There is always time to watch some farangies. So after some negotiating, we travelled in style in the back of the cab, lounging out on our bags in the sun! The locals found it hilarious to see 4 farangies sitting in the back of a bakkie driven by 3 locals – awesome!

We made good time, and are now in Ba har dar. If everything goes according to plan we should be in Karthoum on Friday and catching the train to Egypt in the weekend! You’ll hear from us soon.

Quick update

WE GOT SUDANESE VISA's TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hella stoked. Should be there in 10 days or so. Hella hella hella stoked.

Nairobi to Addis

And so we have found a glorious internet café with a connection that (nearly) never fails. We can now share with you all the story of our wonderful 6-day journey from Nairobi to Addis Ababa, a journey we will never forget, or recover from.

It all started on a Tuesday morning. We awoke at Nairobi backpackers with the idea of getting a taxi into town and then a bus on to Nanyuki. To our delight though, Ken (the crazy owner) told us that two other people had hired a private taxi to take them all the way to Nanyuki, non-stop! We bargained a fantastic deal with them, and soon found ourselves on the way to the equator. This was not after some sad goodbyes at the backpackers though. That lovely man in the background is Ken, the rest are fantastic Canadians. They rock.

The taxi ride was uneventful, much to our pleasure. We just sat, listened to iPods and watched the Kenyan countryside pass us by. The bus driver though soon had other plans and cranked his stereo to a world record breaking level, rendering our mp3 players somewhat useless. He especially enjoyed turning that volume knob all the way to 11 when the “Jambo, Jambo Bwana!” song hit the airwaves. For those who have traveled in Tanzania or Kenya, I’m sure you will agree that this could constitute a mild version of hell. Besides that though, completely uneventful.

Reaching the equator was quite something. As we crossed over the line, the three of us just looked at each other, we all knew that this was a major milestone and the adventures of the Northern Hemisphere would soon begin. We couldn’t wait!

Jumping for joy at the equator.

Once out of the taxi, we immediately ventured down towards the line that cuts the globe in two. The area around the great sign had an eerie silence about it – as if it had been expecting the arrival of the three brave South Africans. We were soon greeted by Chris who, while putting on his glorious satin red tie, told us all there is to know about the equator. He then answered the question that we had been biting our tongues to ask, “Does water actually spin the other way in the Northern Hemisphere?” He walked us 20m south of the sign, and water spun anti-clockwise. We then proceeded to the actual equator, where it did not spin whatsoever. And then finally 20m north of the sign, where it spun clockwise. We were in awe of this magical man! The rest of Nanyuki was spent drinking a beer south, north and on the equator, and NOT getting sunburnt. I didn’t even put on suncream, I didn’t wear a hat and it was midday! I’m lank proud of that hey, the others didn’t believe a ginger could do it.

Matt was given a quick carving lesson in Nanyuki. We were impressed.

A quick matatu (minibus) ride from Nanyuki and we arrived at Isiolo. A glorified bus-stop more than much else. But we found a decent hotel, Matty gave me a haircut and we found plenty people to help us organize a ride on a truck to Marsabit. Reason being, no taxis venture past Isiolo. The road is considered too dangerous and any vehicle heading past this town needs at least two armed guards. The really fearless ones don’t travel in convoy, we eventually caught one of these.

Haircut. Bitchin'.

But the next morning, the one on which we were promised a wake-up call to catch the convoy when it arrived, we awoke to find a whole load of broken promises. And so we played some wicked hacky-sack, drank wicked juice and found a ride on a wicked hardcore Landcruiser. While Pd and I were waiting in the back of the Boeing 767 (that’s what the owner referred to it as) we saw this flash of a blonde mop and Matty appeared, as if from no-where. He had been sitting outside and, without warning, was treated to the strident cock of a soldiers G3 assualt rifle. That soldier sat down in the front seat and another joined us in the back. He too held the rifle in the air and cocked it loud, for all to see and hear. This should be fun.

The "Boeing".

The assualt rifle.

The three of us in the back of the "Boeing".

The ride was long, dusty, uncomfortable and definitely not as exciting as the presence of assault rifles led us to believe. But it did take us to Marsabit, which was one step closer to Ethiopia. Marsabit itself was also quite small and mainly used as a stop-over to Moyale. I know these names mean nothing, but the few of you not too lazy can look them up on a map and get a better idea of the route. I am lazy though, and so you will not find a map here.

That evening I spend sound asleep in our room, while Pd and Matty were treated to tea at the house of a local camel tour operator named Dube. Once they returned they told me all about the great trips that he takes tourists on, and I was super keen. But then found out that instead of riding the camel for 7 days, you walk next to it, through the desert. My enthusiasm soon died.

Again we were promised only the best of things in Marsabit, but this time chose to believe none of them. This proved wise. Nothing left the town during the night or following morning, each hour we checked, but we did organize ourselves a ride for the afternoon. And so, after the mechanic completely refitted a new right rear spring, we were on our way. A convoy of 5 or so goods trucks storming through the desert. It was unreal!

The truck on top of which we sat through the desert.

We were first treated to a magnificent sunset and then to a night’s sky so bright and clear it still shocks me. At one point a shooting star made its way across the sky, burning bright orange and then red, the whole event lasting around 4 seconds. We honestly could not believe what we were doing.

After a much needed night’s sleep in the middle of the desert, we were taken to the Kenyan side of Moyale, a border town with the actual border running right down the middle. We followed the advice of past travelers and went straight into Ethiopia, where we were in for the surprise of our lives.

The language called Amharic, which they speak here, is completely illegible. We couldn’t understand a word spoken, nor read any of the signs. But we did find a hotel! Well, sort of…it was more like a bar and disco area with a few rooms scattered around the edges. I think it was a brothel. We weren’t deterred though, and so put our bags down, ordered a beer and Pd went to the toilet. Well, he tried to at least. He just returned, shaking his head and sat down, shaken to the core. He led us to what had surprised him so, and there before us was the toilet on the right and the shower on the left. Wait no, the toilet on the left and the shower on the right. Oh shit, I mean…okay, we couldn’t really tell the difference. The only real give-away was that the shower had a make-shift shower head on the roof. Besides that they were exactly the same – a hole in the ground, concrete floors angled towards the hole, and crap everywhere. I have never seen anything like it. And for those already accustomed to Swahili-toilets, this was nothing similar. At least with the latter there is a ceramic sculpture semi-resembling a toilet.

The rest of Moyale was just as dirty, helluva exciting though. At one point, while sitting on the side of the road, we were approach by the town-loon. We kept on shouting (translated), “NO, NO, NO!! THE PRIME MINISTER OF MALAWI IS UNDERNEATH THE GROUND!! NO!!” He would then point towards the sky and bow his head. Once he spotted Pd though, he quickly made his way toward the Dutchman and hugged his shins, kissing his knees quite provocatively. It was when his hand headed towards Pd’s groin that we quickly left.

A local called Danny took us to a bar to try some locally made Ouzo (75% rocket fuel) and on the way the crazy-man had tracked us down again. This time he was walking down the road urinating. It the middle of the afternoon. Urinating. This though didn’t stop him from chasing us down the street, still urinating. He urinated for about 3 and a half solid minutes. What a bladder man, what a wicked large bladder. Urinating. That’s a nice word.

From Moyale it was a 2-day bus ride to Addis Ababa. It was an emotional roller-coaster. At first we were stoked and the bus was comfortable. Then it changed, and not for the better. It became cramped, stuffy (Ethiopians believe it bad luck to have air enter the vehicle, hence no air-con and no open windows) and disgustingly long. As you can tell, I don’t really want to talk about it. I have asked Pd and Matt to both write this bit, but they have declined. The memories are just to painful to relive.

Police checkpoint during the hell bus ride.

At the halfway point where we would spend the night in another brothel, receiving the Ethiopian wake-up call (don’t ask, but it involves prozzies), a glimmer of hope flashed before us. We found some cheap beer and a tv playing the cricket. We then lost the cricket, the only source of joy in our lives at the time – besides the cheap beer of course.

But we are here! And Addis is wonderful. Super cheap – draughts are R1.50, meals R2.50 and Raybans R20. We love it.

Ethiopia

So we are here! After six relentless days of travelling we have entered into the country that is proving to be the biggest culture shock of the trip so far. Very few people here speak English, it's really only Amharic here, which is a dialect of Arabic, and so we can't understand a word. The signs on all the buildings are in Amharic, which basically looks like the sribbling of a 3 year old child, rendering them completely useless. We have deciphered that the word toilet looks like an alien evolving. Sounds wierd, but it's worked so far.

We'll definitely write a post about the 6-day adventure to get here, but the internet at the moment is quite temperamental. The government has a monopoly over the internet, landline and cellular providers - which means that we can't get much done. Even our blog is banned in Ethiopia. We can only load posts, not access the actual website. So, posts may become a bit infrequent from now on, but all know that we are alive, well and having the time of our lives!

Hell's Gate

“Everything the light touches is our kingdom.” Mufasa’s words echo through my head as we see Pride Rock for the first time. We had lazily woken up that morning after a vicious night at The Carnivore, with Ken (the crazy-ass backpacker owner) urging us to accompany him to Hell’s Gate National Park. So after some quick budgeting, we were in. Plus, Hell’s Gate is the place where Disney sketched all the plans for The Lion King. Not going there would be sacrilege.

So that evening we set off, arriving at the campsite in the dark. On the way we were attacked by thorn trees – Martin the driver had left the handbrake off on a slope. And we thought that would be the last of the troubles…

After many beers that evening some of us decided to sleep outside, under the African stars. To let the truth be known I was really hoping to see Mufasa’s face in the clouds. Sadly though, the clouds did not appear. What did present itself was a cold wind much akin to that found on the top of Everest. This was okay for the others, as they had Everest-quality sleeping bags. I did not however. Mine is 10 years old and full of holes. I was determined however, and put my daypack in the sleeping bag with me. I don’t why at 4 in the morning I thought this would help. It didn’t.

The next morning was Easter and some smart people had brought chocolate. They were lank popular. Ken decided we should hunt for our candy, so he opened the packet of chocolate éclairs and through them into the veld. He was lank unpopular.

We had breakfast and headed off to search for the gorge in which Mufasa’s life was so cruelly ended. And we found it! It was killer. Sorry, bad adjective.

After leaving the gorge area, an incident occurred. Apparently the roads in Hell’s Gate are not exactly wide enough for an overland truck and a Toyota Corolla to pass each other safely. And as you can imagine, an overland truck will come off slightly better from said situation. We weren’t stressed though because the damage to the Corolla wasn’t that tragic, and surely a quick swap of details would leave us on our way? No. Not at all. For what we didn’t know was that in Kenya, the insurance companies will not pay if you admit liability. So, our driver claimed innocence, and so did the Corolla driver.

Needless to say, an argument broke out which eventually ended in Ken and a troop of overlanders – including Matt, some Canadians, some Americans, a German and three Brits we had so kindly offered a lift to (which by now they were seriously regretting) – heading to the ranger’s station to put down their quotes as witnesses of the accident. Pd, myself, a Dane, a Canadian and an Aussie stayed behind to kindly look after the bags. It then started raining, which sucked for those giving their testimonies, but was quick nice as the 5 of us on the overlander were dry and warm under blankets.

The dispute was eventually solved 6 hours later, with the sun beginning to set. That period had involved a lot of shouting, men with AK-47s, phone calls to people in high places and a wicked game of hackey sack. At the end of it though we were treated to the most spectacular of sights. Pride rock in the foreground. A beam of sunshine through the clouds in the background. All that was missing was Elton John, some giraffes bowing their heads, and a monkey holding a lion. (Picture of this to follow.)

“Hakuna matata, it means no worries.” – Timone

And to all of the wicked people on the trip, a big thank you. See y'all in Montreal.

The Carnivore

Before we left South Africa Jess (Jared’s awesome dad) gave us money to feast at Carnivore in Nairobi… It was something that the three of us had been looking forward to since the start of the trip, so arriving in Nairobi was warmly welcomed.

We took it to a level where we strategised ways in which we could slowly expand our stomach capacities, it was worth it!

The initial plan was to go the same night that we arrived back from Mombasa. However, for some reason none of us managed to get any sleep on the luxury 52 seater night coach, so upon arrival in Nairobi Backpackers we were all a bit under the weather. The experience of African bus night travel was an interesting one though. The leg room allocated per seat is about a third of that which you get on a 1Time domestic economy flight, and the back of each chair has a unique array of pointy bolts which force you to keep your wits about you while you choose the best sleeping position. Amazingly we managed to sit and sleep on the chair alone legs and all, using the chair in front of us only to hold on. Overall the bus trip was… ok, we did save ourselves some money, and made it to Nairobi a day and a half earlier, which in the end made up for time in Hell’s Gate… (next blog)

Anyway, back to the Carnivore,

So as I said we were all pretty knackered and decided it would be a waste to go to Carnivore that night. Now that that was out the way we jointly decided to postpone the night of Glory to Friday and spend the rest of the day chilling with the other backpackers and recovering a bit. That night ended up in Gypsies, one of Nairobi finest clubs/pubs, (allegedly), with us, thanks to locally brewed ‘Vodka’ to wake up with a mighty big, well, hangover. Which, for a change was welcomed, as we knew what was in store for us at 19:30 that night.

The day went by really slowly, and we ate minimal amounts of food, comprising mainly of snacks. So by nightfall we were just about self-digesting. We took Stanley out and made our way to carnivore. We had a Grande welcome and were shown to our seats to be welcomed by the ‘Doctor’ who prepared a vodka, lime and honey cocktail, designed to further whet the appetite. Called a Dawa.

So it started, we were brought our vegetable soup and breadsticks, the salad and sauce plate and then it started! The carvers with their lumps of meat and machetes surrounded our table and started carving and piling up our plates with…

Roast beef
Turkey
Crocodile
Roast Pork
Chicken Sausage
Pork Crackling
Roast Lamb
Beef Ribs
Chicken
Ostrich
Pork Ribs
Beef Sausage
Pork Sausages
Buffalo wings
… and this went on for about 3 hours, having the occasional time out, which is the only time we could actually see the colour of our plates. By the end of that we were…well… Beasted. Finally deciding none of us could have any more, not even a drink, we threw down the white serving flag, and surrendered. After desert all we could do was walk to the car, and went directly to bed. It was awesome! As they say at Carnivore, it was a BEAST OF A FEAST.

Just as a by the by, 2 years ago, before Kenyan officials made hunting illegal, Carnivore also served game. Apparently such as Zebra, Giraffe, Gazelle, Rhino etc, and if you ordered salad, or a vegetarian dishes a group of Masai men would pick you up on your chair and throw you in a pool of water. It’s a lot more civilized now, but what an experience! Thank you Jess!

Lamu

I hate computers. Maybe it is lack of sleep thanks to escapades in Hell's Gate (Thanks Ken), or maybe i just suck at computers, but i just lost the written records of our trip to lamu. It was really good, probably would have brought many a tear to many an eye with its rich geographical descriptions and witty recollections of prostitutes, island nights and dhow captains. However thats gone, so what follows is a rough hack of what happened. Sorry.


After a nice train ride, a night camping in Malindi (this is where the prostitutes fit in, it turns out that the Da Gama campsite is just the garden of where all the whores of Malindi live), hot sticky 6 hour bus ride, and short ferry. We arrived in Lamu, where we had our first taste of liquid heaven, or fresh mango juice as its know there. So creamy, rich, sweet and glorious, and cheap, i could go on. I wont. Suffice to say that we drank a lot, maybe too much, and yet it still lingers in my dreams.

We also went on a 2 night dhow trip, us the hungarians, captain ali and his two crew. Fist day was just a long sail, arriving on Kiwayu island (near Somalia) at sunset, camped on the beach. Spent the next day snorkelling, chilling, eating crayfish and sailing to hell. Hell looks like a beach, believe it or not. We also got there round sunset, and after such a good nights sleep the previous night, how could this beach with its innocuous looking little flies buzzing around, be any different. I had the worst night of my life, or so it felt at the time. Between the little biting cane flies, buzzing mosquito's, and subterranean crabs seranading me with munching noises the whole night, i didnt sleep, and still have bites. The less said the better. Maybe the highlight of the trip (probably not) came at lunch time the next/last day of our sojurn on Peace Villa. While ali was preparing our daily standard luch of fish, vegetables and coconut rice, he gave us some fruit that he'd picked up, that looked a bit like a grapefruit, but was hard. He cracked it open and the penny dropped. It was the fruit Rafiki used in the Lion King to paint the picture of Simba on the rock. And they taste really good with curry powder.


The rest of our days in Lamu we just walked around, enjoying the high walls, ornate doors, and street food. Overall it feels a lot like Zanzibar, but maybe as i imagine it 10 or 15 years ago, before tourism took too strong a grip. And its also harder to get lost than it is in Stonetown. We went to the local cinema one night to watch Kill Bill (you have to enjoy some creature comforts of home sometimes).

I cant write anymore. All of my 'the's are coming out as 'teh' and i have to reread and correct every sentence.Next time i find some internet ill come back and elaborate. Right now we have to get to Nanyuki. It right on the equator and our next port of call. Kind of sad to be leaving Nairobi as its an easy place to slip back into old habits of weekend sports on tv, and we met some good people at Backpackers. But so is the nature of our trip, a bit rushed. Farewell Stanley, its been emotional!!