(In the following series of posts I revisit a journey in early 2007 to Ethiopia, through correspondence. You can see part one here.)
February 3, 2007
Friends:
I've just returned from a four day trip into the Sidama region, home to some of the world's finest coffee plantations.
German Martin suggested it. A good getaway from the city was what he needed; he knew of an old colonial resort with bungalows and asked if we wanted to join. The destination: Awassa, a midsized town about 300kms south of Addis. To get there we would travel the gradually arcing highway 6, one of the main paved roads that eventually winds its way down to the Nairobi border (I think the same highway that Paul Theroux describes during his own journey through Ethiopia in Dark Star Safari). This would take us down into the great Rift Valley, which cuts across Ethiopia and gives the country its reddish lakes - Ziwa, Shala and Abaya. We cruised out of Addis in style this time via Martin's old green mercedes, with its plush seats and plenty of power to overtake the wobby-axled lorries.
Awassa is a university town of about 200,000, where the streets are impeccably clean and everyone seems to ride the classic style Indian-made bicycles. The town runs along Lake Awassa, where the crowds congregate to promenade along the shore path, selling wares, meeting loves, eating snacks. These are Ethiopia's wetlands, packed tightly against the dry plains and red soils, and are naturally a habitat for birds of all sorts. Here I saw iridescent kingfishers snatching minnow sized fish, while magnificent long beaked black and white coloured storks with huge wingspans shuffled around on flat feet like penguins.
Our little resort was in fact more of a decaying colonial villa with tin roofed bungalows on a sprawling unkempt acreage. Everything gracefully run down; the evidence of an ancient pool at the centre, now home to a mosquito factory. The ever-present cockroach. I tucked my mosquito net tightly around the bed.
It was all worth it to wake in the early morning to see the warm glimmer of early morning sunshine on the lake, sipping fresh coffee and scoffing fresh bread with jam. Complimentary big stick to keep the thieving monkeys away, which were well aware of the routine and would make their way in packs to the patio surroundings, hoping to snatch a meal. I fed a local begging cat some bread bits - never have I seen a cat eat bread before.
We took a day trip down to Dila, about 100 or so km south of Awassa. Here the geography changed again, now rolling hills of jungle, green grass and deep red earth. It is deeply rural, everyone seemed to be munching on chunks of sugar cane. Along the sides of the road people were selling fresh papayas, pineapples, green coffeebeans (a dollar a kilo), and huge bundles of chat (also known as khat in Somalia, Kenya and Yemen). Here, they mix coffee with rancid butter.
We also made our way to Wondo Genet - home of Hailie Selassie's former private hot springs. An aging pool - actually a series of pools - jutting out in the moutainside, with a great view down the valley. The mineralized water was piping hot - gushing through a makeshift system, and was soothing after the bone jutting three kilometre donkey cart ride up to the top!
I've observed that the paper money gets worse the farther you get from the capital. In Awassa and beyond, the bills fell victim to what I call 'Ethiopian wallet' syndrome -- for fear of thieves, the locals hide their money under their armpits. That and the dirt make the bills truly rancid -- some are so bad you don't even want to touch them. So there is a bit of a game here -- you are always trying to get rid of the worst bills (and the servers in restaurants do the same to you!).
All the best from Addis,
Ciaran
February 3, 2007
Friends:
I've just returned from a four day trip into the Sidama region, home to some of the world's finest coffee plantations.
German Martin suggested it. A good getaway from the city was what he needed; he knew of an old colonial resort with bungalows and asked if we wanted to join. The destination: Awassa, a midsized town about 300kms south of Addis. To get there we would travel the gradually arcing highway 6, one of the main paved roads that eventually winds its way down to the Nairobi border (I think the same highway that Paul Theroux describes during his own journey through Ethiopia in Dark Star Safari). This would take us down into the great Rift Valley, which cuts across Ethiopia and gives the country its reddish lakes - Ziwa, Shala and Abaya. We cruised out of Addis in style this time via Martin's old green mercedes, with its plush seats and plenty of power to overtake the wobby-axled lorries.
 |
| The Great Rift Valley |
It didn't take long for the change of scenery and soon the the hubbub of peripheral urban sprawl, littered and dusty streets gave way to smaller smoother roads, wide open plains, big sky and classic flat-topped acacia trees (more like the classic wide panoramic Africa that I pictured in my head). The grass is parched, hardy and like little thick spears. The driving dangers changed from donkey carts and toyota corollas to just donkeys and the occasional traffic congestion (two cars) due to cattle herds. Ethiopian donkeys appear to enjoy bolting out of the bush and picking the middle of highway in the bare sun as a good spot to rest. Best to drive slow and wide. And don't forget about those lethal acacia spikes that are tough enough to puncture a tire.
 |
| Highway 6 heading south |
 |
| the gloriously lethal acacia tree |
Our little resort was in fact more of a decaying colonial villa with tin roofed bungalows on a sprawling unkempt acreage. Everything gracefully run down; the evidence of an ancient pool at the centre, now home to a mosquito factory. The ever-present cockroach. I tucked my mosquito net tightly around the bed.
It was all worth it to wake in the early morning to see the warm glimmer of early morning sunshine on the lake, sipping fresh coffee and scoffing fresh bread with jam. Complimentary big stick to keep the thieving monkeys away, which were well aware of the routine and would make their way in packs to the patio surroundings, hoping to snatch a meal. I fed a local begging cat some bread bits - never have I seen a cat eat bread before.
We took a day trip down to Dila, about 100 or so km south of Awassa. Here the geography changed again, now rolling hills of jungle, green grass and deep red earth. It is deeply rural, everyone seemed to be munching on chunks of sugar cane. Along the sides of the road people were selling fresh papayas, pineapples, green coffeebeans (a dollar a kilo), and huge bundles of chat (also known as khat in Somalia, Kenya and Yemen). Here, they mix coffee with rancid butter.
 |
| Cactus fencing is effective |
We also made our way to Wondo Genet - home of Hailie Selassie's former private hot springs. An aging pool - actually a series of pools - jutting out in the moutainside, with a great view down the valley. The mineralized water was piping hot - gushing through a makeshift system, and was soothing after the bone jutting three kilometre donkey cart ride up to the top!
I've observed that the paper money gets worse the farther you get from the capital. In Awassa and beyond, the bills fell victim to what I call 'Ethiopian wallet' syndrome -- for fear of thieves, the locals hide their money under their armpits. That and the dirt make the bills truly rancid -- some are so bad you don't even want to touch them. So there is a bit of a game here -- you are always trying to get rid of the worst bills (and the servers in restaurants do the same to you!).
All the best from Addis,
Ciaran
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