...not just yet. But the biggest obstacle is out of the way and we have our visa.
So the challenge to get through is still on...

I read very few Ride Reports
 

Yet this is one of two I enjoy keeping up on. Thanks.

--Alex

Thanks Alex!

School of St Jude, Arusha, Tanzania
 

Arusha, Tanzania

After finishing with the beautiful ring road around Mt Kilimanjaro I headed straight to Arusha, the major town in northern Tanzania. There is one major reason why I wanted to stop over in Arusha, that's the 'School of St Jude'. Maybe a year or two back I watched a documentary on Australian ABC television about the story of this school. I still remember how impressed I was back then. The more so I was now excited to see the school for real. So yesterday morning I made my way down to the town of Moshone and really found the School of St Jude there.
Let me tell you a bit about the concept of the school first. It all started just over 10 years ago with one Australian woman dreaming about making a difference. And so, with the help of friends and their donations she was able to buy a small piece of land in Tanzania and built a tiny school on it. The school should be there to support the brightest little minds in impoverished communities, kids who's parents would not be able to afford the school fees or who would only spend a couple of years at a cheap school and never reach their full potential. The school started with three kids back then, three kids and one local teacher.
10 years later there are now 1500 kids and several hundred local staff on two campuses. Still following the same old concepts. Every year up to 150 kids from the local area are chosen to start with grade one in the St Judes primary school. Kids to be accepted have to meet two conditions: they have to be smart and they have to come from a poor family. Their poor background will be checked by home visits of school staff, some visits as surprise for the family and also by talking to neighbours and other community members. The potential of the kid will be assessed by a simple test, similar to an IQ test. If the little one is accepted they will be able to enjoy some of the best education in the country for free. No school fees will ever have to be paid, all learning material is provided for free. So is the school uniform. And also the pickup and drop of with the school's own buses (all donated). And the boarding. And four nutritious meals every day. End even medical requirements.
When I visited the school I saw libraries stacked with donated books. Computer cabinets full of donated computers, all connected to the internet. And laboratories, sports grounds, clean comfy boarding houses. And all that is based on the initiative of one woman from country New South Wales and her ability to excite others with her dream and to raise funds. From three kids to 1500 in ten years. All financed by donations only. Not bad, hey? Teachers are all locally sourced and paid, every non-tanzanian staff is not paid and helps as a volunteer only.
I was very impressed not just by the big clean and modern school campus. But just as much by the clever concept to help communities by supporting their smartest kids. And the most impressive thing for me still is, that one woman alone had done this. I never met her but she surely has a lot to be very proud of.
Volunteers are only accepted with at least a one year commitment. So unfortunately it wasn't for me. Otherwise I would still be there for a few weeks.

Africa is a strange place. By now I can fully understand people saying it can make or break you. I find myself often in between. Africa extends your range of emotions to unknown limits. And often you go through the whole range within a very short timeframe. I remember many times when I was just ready to keep riding, riding straight home, riding fast and long as to get home sooner. It's those days when every perfect dirt road ends in deep sand. Days when you just keep dropping your bike for stupid reasons. Or days when every step you make you are followed by an army of touts and there is not one quite second. Or when inefficient procedures make you want to cry and keep you stuck for half a day. Or vital stuff breaks or gets lost. But it's hardly ever a full day like this. Because when you feel down the most, ready to fly home the next day, something will come along and pick you up. And make you want to stay. Something simple like a woman walking along the road within her group of donkeys smiling and greeting you with a friendly 'Jambo'. Or the little kid who, with wide eyes and small hands exlores your bike full of wonder. Or the friendly guy in one of the road stalls giving his best to make the best possible Chai tea for you and is proud as when you praise his efforts. There is stories of rain and sunshine, annoying mosquitoes and beautiful sunsets, chaotic cities and wide empty plains. It's mostly the people who cheer you up again and again and make you say 'it's all worthwile'. So suddenly you realise that yes, the traffic is a hopeless mess but what a proud achievement it is to have negotiated a way through. And you find yourself smiling when you're stuck in a group of donkeys on the road because it's actually a cool feeling to be there. And yes, the road is all sand and sand sucks but the landscape around you makes you feel all warm inside. And so I guess it is this wide range of emotions which make us travel, make us explore places like Africa. Because at the end it's emotions which turn into memories and provide us with the fuel to live of for many years to come. And emotions of that magnitude are hard to come by when you stay at home.

Since the day I am travelling alone I find these emotions come along much more intense. The positive and the negative ones.
So I can only imagine what this Australian woman did go through on her way of growing the School of St Jude out of nothing. With her own hard work.

The School of St Jude > Home

A typical day
 

Somewhere near Shinyanga, Tanzania

Since leaving Arusha three days ago there weren't really many highlights along the way. Nor did I expect any. In the lack of highlights just let me write about an average day. Like today. No highlights but nonetheless very cool.
Last night I camped at a beautiful spot around 60km west of Singida just off a little maintenance track for HV power lines. It was really in the bush, however the truck traffic on the main thorougfare between Arusha and Kigali was still audible in the distance. I pitched my tent within an area of thorny acacia bushes. To make room for tent and bike I had to clear away a branch or two and these guys really sting you.
Getting up this morning at around 7am, a bit later than usual, one finger on my right hand was pretty painfully swollen and I could hardly bend it. Crap, that's where I was stung badly last night by these bloody acacia thorns. However, after a bit of finger gymnastic it was movable enough to be usable again. Just hope these thorns are not poisonous. So I packed up and had a big breakfast of cooked oats and the leftover half pineapple from last night, still juicy and sweet. It was around 9 o'clock when I started my little Suzuki and negotiated a way along the maintenance path back to the main road. It was already quite hot and should become a scorcher of a day again. At around 10am I felt that I hadn't had a tea yet and started scanning the villages left and right for these little restaurants. Not much later I passed one, one guy sitting on a table with one of those typical flasks full of tea. So I stopped and sat down at his table. Turns out he is the restaurant owner. He spoke no English but we understood each other well enough that soon after I had a cup of hot spicey Chai tea and two delicious 'cibati' (= flat wheat bread) in front of me.
His beautiful girlfriend came along as well and sat down with us. She spoke really good English and was keen to prove it. So we had a long chat. Her boyfriend soon went back to work installing new lights in their little restaurant. But she and myself, we sat there for probably almost two hours. Just talking.
After that I just went across the road to buy some credit for my Tanzanian mobile phone. As usual the first attempt to recharge the account didn't work. So I was assisted by a middleaged guy who also spoke pretty good English. Half an hour later I felt very educated about the village's affairs and the way ahead. And had new credit on the phone. So, as with many others before, we exchanged email addresses and phone numbers. And he insisted to escort me back to the bike. Where we chatted for another 10 minutes or so about my little Suzuki and how massive she was. And then off I went.
Lately I am riding rather slowly, around 70km/h on tarmac. That speed is in perfect tune with the local traffic and quite relaxing really. Although the Michelin map showed some of today's road as gravel it was in fact all recently built tarmac. Easy cruising. There is a lot of people walking along the road. Or pushing fully loaded bicycles. However, there is almost no motor traffic apart from a few buses and trucks. So every person along the road kept turning their head and following me on the bike with their eyes. Some had a really surprised expression on their face, as if to say 'WTF is going on???'. Others just smiled. Some shouted something in Swahili after me. Others even raised their hand for a friendly greeting. But literally everyone stopped and turned their head.
Shortly after 1:30pm I reached the town of Nzega, a rather big dot on the map. Good place for lunch. Don't know why but even after all the good food earlier this morning I felt hungry again. So I stopped and ordered one of those delicious pancakes made of chips and eggs fried in a pan. The guy who cooked them did not understand any English so we showed a lot with our fingers. I ordered a pancake with one serve of chips and two eggs. Ordering food I hardly ever get right. So at the end I got two pancakes. Showing two fingers for having two eggs in my pancake somehow translated into two meals. But no problem, I had one packed in a bag for dinner. And ate the other one there and then. While a couple of kids standing around watching me and a couple of men standing around the bike and discussing various elements of it. After eating I took a photo of the kids. Which is always big fun. They just can't stop laughing seeing their faces on the little camera screen. And soon a big crowd formed around the camera.
After explaining some bits and pieces of the bike I was ready to set off again. The usual points of interest are: the highest number shown on the speedo, the ccm of the engine and the capacity of the fuel tank.
So I kept riding along a beautiful tarmac road. Through endlessly flat steppe. The landscape was very green because we are now in the 'small' rain season. Being so close to the equator there are actually two wet seasons.
It was a very hot day and after a while I needed some water again. I promply reached a village with one shop having a big ad for water painted on their wall. The shop owner spoke English which quickly lead to a short chat again. About motorcycles, their ccm and fuel tank capacities and about Tanzania and Australia. People are very proud when I praise Tanzania but I do so honestly because I like it here. Three kids sitting against the wall was too good a photo opportunity to miss. So I asked and took a photo and quickly had a curious crowd chatting and laughing around my camera screen again. I used the two new water bottles to fill up the old empty ones which fit much better in the bottle holders of my panniers than the Tanzanian bottles. And gave the empty bottles to a lady eagerly waiting to see where I would throw them away. There is always another use for them and she thanked me with a big smile. And I rode on.
The landscape got greener and more and more hilly, really stunning. Just the mix of colours: the blue sky with some white clouds, the green vegetation, the red bricks of the huts, their golden roof of straw and some grey boulders randomly strewn across the area.
Next time I stopped around 3:30pm. There was this massive Baobab tree next to the road. And underneath a couple of old ladies selling mangoes, They spoke no English whatsoever. But I was still able to purchase a beautiful mango for just AU$0.10 and to borrow a knife to cut it in pieces and eat it there and then. We had a lovely chat. They said something in Swahili to me. I replied with a random sentence in English. Which triggered a response in Swahili. And so on. A very relaxed way of having a conversation. All participants wondering what the hell the other one is talking about. Half an hour later I was on the bike again.
Maybe ten minutes after I found some huge rocks near the road. It's always a good photo opportunity to climb up there. And so I did. On my way down I noticed a car having stopped on the same spot. Having a flat tyre. The two guys in the car, Tanzanians but by their looks of middle eastern ancestry, spoke fantastic English and were really lovely fellows. We probably chatted for an hour about our respective lifes and pasts and plans etc. And about 'The Long Way Down'. Really cool. By then it was time to find a spot for camping.
When bushcamping, which happens most of the time, I usually start looking for a place from around 4pm. Usually I find a good spot by 4:30 with some time remaining till sunset at 6pm. That's the time when I sit down, relax, read a bit, write into my diary, check the bike and eat something. And observe the area. If no one turns up with any objections by sunset I pitch the tent. And so it happened today. Still in time to watch the sunset, the sun turning from yellow to orange to red. And the rise of the currently full moon, turning from red to orange to yellow. North of here, in the far distance, there is some lightning. Way better than watching television. I'm camping just a few hundred meters of the main road, some 10km east of Shinyanga in a little depression. A waterhole used by the local cattle owners to let their cows drink. But not after sunset. So I have the place all to myself.

Done 220km today. Pretty good day really. And tomorrow will be another one.

More pics...
 

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p.../153-lunch.jpg
I had a really good chips-and-eggs pancake for lunch here. And got a surprising second one for take away

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p.../154-water.jpg
The three kids sitting in front of the shop where I bought two water bottles from.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p.../155-rocks.jpg
'Together we will go further' - the writing on the big rocks where soon after a car broke down with a flat tyre.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/156-view.jpg
The view from the top of the big rocks.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/157-camp.jpg
My camping spot at the water hole.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/152-kibo.jpg
Totally unrelated but still a cool picture. Mt Kilimanjaro a few days back.

Very enjoyable read
 

Marco,

Thanks for your passion for your surroundings, people, geography, road state and for the descriptions of your state of mind whilst on the road. You paint a wonderrful word picture, backed up with just enough photos; well there could always be more photos! I really sense your delight, love and loneliness of your life while travelling.

That "little Suzuki" is doing a mighty fine job, long may she continue to do so.

Rosco

Mwanza, Tanzania
 

Holidays in Mwanza, Tanzania

It has been over one week now that I've been staying in Mwanza. I am stuck in Mwanza, partly by choice, partly by circumstances. And I love the place.
Mwanza is quite a big city on the shores of beautiful Lake Victoria. When I came here last Sunday I asked around for a place to camp and found a fantastic camping ground just out of town. Right on the lake. On the beach. Just really really cool. So I booked myself in for two nights, the amount of time I intended to stay in Mwanza.
There were a couple of things on my to do list for here. Like getting a new rear tyre organised, buying some more prestine looking US$ for the Congo. Doing the usual internet and banking and supermarket things. And Mwanza is great for that. I was also keen to get a tour to the Serengeti from here. Mwanza is much less touristy than Arusha or Moshi. And therefore cheaper. In fact, I seem to be the only tourist here. Which is good and bad at the same time. Good, because there are no touts here following you around and trying to sell you stuff. None at all, which makes Mwanza an extremely pleasant place to stay. But it is also bad because there are no tour groups into the Serengeti which I could join. And they won't let my little Suzuki into the National Park. Apparently too dangerous to be near the big animals.
So a new strategy was needed. I turned the table on the tour companies and this time it was me hasseling them. For it was now me who wanted their business and them who couldn't provide it to me. Soon they all had my mobile number and would call me as soon as they see another tourist on the horizon. And I put up little ads on all the places likely to be visited by tourists. Like supermarkets and restaurants. And have been crossing fingers since. Which of course required waiting and patience.
For the first time in this trip there was really a lot of rain. It's rainy season of course. And it does rain, hell yeah does it rain here. But only once or twice a day for an hour of a big thunderstorm.
Both, the rainy season and the distance of the camping lodge to Mwanza town made me move closer to the city where I found a fantastic local guesthouse. For far less than half the price of camping on the beach. With my own room and my own bed and my own bathroom. And pay TV! And protection from the rain. And me the only tourist there. Perfect.
And once you stay in a place for longer you become familiar with the surroundings. Just opposite the guest house is a big market where you can buy food for dirt cheap. Consequently I am there many times a day. For breakfast, lunch and dinner. And in between. I hope eating Mangoes has no negative side effects because I've been eating loads of them (for just AU$ 0.10 a piece). And fresh oranges, avocadoes, bananas, pastries, Chai tea, local bread etc. - just paradise. And of course everyone on the market knows me by now. As the 'Muzungu'.
And so does the group of young guys on their motorbikes (-two-wheel-taxies) waiting in front of the guest house. It's hard to not stand out with my little Suzuki amongst them. But bikies stick together and so we often share a Chai tea together and I get introduced to the trade of being a motorbike taxi rider. Thing is that most of them have no bike licence, the bike is not registered for taxi business and they actually don't even own the bike. So business often ends at a Police checkpoint where the profit of the day is paid in fines. But if business runs well they make TSH20000 (AU$ 12) per day. Minus petrol. And minus the bike rental fee of TSH6500 per day. And that is considered good business! However, during the day there is not many passengers for them. So they give me free sightseeing tours. Sometimes walking. Sometimes riding on their little chinese bikes. Or on my little Suzuki which is usually the preferred option. Which is fine with me, I get to see cool things and they get to look cool amongst their friends riding with the 'Muzungu' on his huge bike.
Also really awesome are the other guests in the guesthouse. There is a big group of people from the Congo, businessman with their sons and wifes and what looks like mums and grandmas. Awesome for me because I still have a million questions and doubts and worries about the Congo in my mind. And practising my old French from school we often sit together over maps in the evenings discussing their wonderful country. It's surprising how quickly my French skills came back out of the drawer where they lay dormant for most of the last 15 years. We discussed the upcoming Congo elections. And our proposed route. Which, according to them, should be okay. Hopefully they are right.
There is also a group of business men from Uganda as long term residents in the guesthouse on a business trip. They are really well educated, well travelled, speak a fantastic English and are great company. We often discuss the options of me starting a business in Tanzania, Uganda or Congo and becoming a millionaire within a few years. Sounds good, hey? One of them also does business in the Congo and got a lot of really helpful information for me. As much as the Congo will still be the most challenging part of the trip, I somehow lost my security fears a bit.
There are also many incredibly funny moments when the girls who work in the guesthouse try to teach me Swahili. We usually end up laughing our asses off when I try my new language skills on the motorbike guys outside and it means very different things to what I though it would.

So yeah, I stayed in Mwanza day after day. Time flies fast. Every day developed a completely unforeseen dynamic. By just me going into the city and letting things happen. And everyday has been a great day. As I've said, I love this place. There is so much happening here, life is so colourful. And the whole town is so friendly. People have an incredicle energy here. Just great.
However, Saturday I earmarked as the day to leave Mwanza. And on Friday I got a message from another tourist interested in going to the Serengeti.
Finally it worked! So I met with Pok from HongKong and we discussed our plans. He has spend many weeks in the country as volunteer and is now travelling around for a while. And luckily we immediately agreed on how we want to travel the Serengeti. Now, that there are two of us the whole Serengeti plan finally became affordable. However, we would give it a try and wait over the weekend when restaurants are busy and more people would read my ads and maybe one or two of them would come along too. So again, I ended up extending my stay in the guesthouse. And, to be honest, liked the fact to have a reason to stay. And Pok moved in as well.
So off we shall go into the Serengeti for three days, starting on Tuesday. It will be the time when the famous Wildebeast migration arrives there. So it will be good.

Mwanza pics
 

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...158-bikies.jpg
This group of motorbike taxi riders would soon become my crowd of friends and local guides in Mwanza

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...159-storck.jpg
The local rubbish tip and some big storcks looking for anything fishy in there

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/160-rock.jpg
Mwanza is located beautifully on Lake Victoria in an area of many hills and rocky outcrops. This pic shows part of the city from one of those hills.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/161-town.jpg
The town itself is quite big, one of the major centres in Tanzania. But it has kept an incredibly friendly environment. Tourists are welcome and will not have to go through the hassles of Tanzania's other major tourist centres.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/162-huts.jpg
The rocky and hilly conditions provide really beautiful real estate.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...163-suzuki.jpg
As usually my little Suzuki draws all the attention to herself. These guys, motorbike taxi drivers, have never seen a bike as big and powerful ever before. When I gave them a short demonstration and let them be my pillion passengers they always got off afterwards, beaming with a huge smile.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/164-kids.jpg
There is an incredible energy in the people here.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/165-lake.jpg
Lake Victoria

:rockon:.....bier

Serengeti National Park
 

Day 87 - Serengeti National Park

The Serengeti is a place that has fascinated me since I was a kid. Back then I had a few books of animal photographs. The typical coffee table style books full of pictures of elephants, lions etc. And of course there were the documentaries on TV about the Serengeti, the lifecycles in there, the big migrations of Wildebeasts and Zebras. And there was me as a kid dreaming about seeing it all one day. It was so far away and unreachable. And now, 25 years on, I was staying on the Serengeti's boundary!
Going inside though is neither easy nor cheap. Not easy because my little Suzuki is not allowed in there. Which is a pity when you're travelling on a motorbike. And when you're telling your story on a motorbike forum. So I hope you guys are not getting too bored about this post not involving my bike. She's actually enjoying her own little holidays right now. I parked her securely undercover in the backyard of my guesthouse in Mwanza. So she is protected from the daily rain. And marvelled upon by many of the guests. She also got fresh oil and a new oil filter, her chain is clean and shiney for the new layer of chain lube. There is no heavy luggage or heavy rider to bear for her suspension. So yeah, I believe she is happy to have a rest here in Mwanza.
It took more than a week to line up a fellow tourist to share the experience and cost of the Serengeti tour. And still, it would cost each of us US$555. Considering that renting a house in Mwanza only costs US$2.50 a month those $555 could have made scores of local people very happy. But that is just one of the daily dilemmas in Africa, one of those things you better don't spend too much time thinking about.
On Tuesday early morning we set off from Mwanza in a really cool LandCruiser. There was Emanuel, our cook, Gideon, our guide and driver and us two tourists Pok and me. It took only two hours from Mwanza and we found ourselves standing under the arc of the entrance gate into the Serengeti National Park. What a feeling. Through the gate we could already see the first animals!
It is rainy season right now. Which is why there are almost no tourists around. But it is also the reason why the Serengeti is green. The entire landscape, the plains, the mountains, the trees and riverbanks are covered in all shades of green. From a yellowish golden green sea of grass covering the endless plains to a healthy dark green of the Acacia trees scaterred across the landscape. And in between the animals feasting on the grass. Or feasting on the animals which are feasting on the grass. So, to keep it short, there are lots of animals. They are just everywhere. Antelopes, Elephants, Buffalos and Wildebeasts, Lions, Cheetahs, Ostriches and Secretary birds, Warthogs, Giraffes, Eagles and Vultures, Baboons and Monkeys, Crocodiles, Hippos, Hyenas and Zebras. And there is loads of them. Many of the grass feeding animals, most famously the Wildebeasts, arrived in the Serengeti just now following their century old migration patterns and the wet season down from Kenya into Tanzania.
Seeing them all there and seeing them up close in their own territory is an amazing feeling. And by that time I was very happy to have joined a tour and they didn't let me in on my little Suzuki. First of all for the many lions sitting right next to the road. I guess I wouldn't have stopped a meter away from them to take a photo. But with the car we did. And we had all the time in the world to just park there and watch the lions doing their thing.
Another reason why joining a tour is a good idea is the fact, that the car was equipped with a two way radio. So our guide could listen to reports from rangers and other guides. Reports of animal sightings where we could go straight there. So we went down roads I would never have gone down on the bike. But at the end there was always something cool to see. And lastly the LandCruiser was perfectly suited for this sort of trip because you could pop up the roof and stand in the car. Which gave you an elevated 360 degree view point in the open air without annoying car windows separating you from your animals.
So all together we had three really cool days out there. And two nights camping with the sounds of Hyenas and the roaring of lions around us.
Back in Mwanza we had a big welcome back in the guest house. Even local people in the guesthouse or around it never had an opportunity to see the Serengeti or any of it's animals. Locals would pay only a few dollars for NP entrance fee and camping but it is still unaffordable. And unreachable if you don't have a car. So ten minutes after being back I found myself sitting on a little chinese motorbike taxi in front of the guesthouse. With the entire crowd of motorbike taxi riders around me. And we were watching our Serengeti photos on the little screen of my tablet computer. And believe me, there were many photos. And every single one was watched with interest. Trying to catch a motorbike taxi then would not have been easy...

So yeah, I'm back in Mwanza, reunited with my little Suzuki in her holidays. A couple of my motorbike taxi friends invited me to come to their home and to do some sightseeing on the bike. Which is really cool for me to do. So I guess I will stay here for a couple of more days.

Serengeti pics
 

Just a few pics from the Srengeti:

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...6-giraffes.jpg
The landscape is covered in a beautiful green with animals scattered around everywhere.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...67-buffalo.jpg
There is the big African buffalo watching us with suspicion...

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...68-warthog.jpg
...or the little Warthog...

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...69-vulture.jpg
...or the vulture surveying the area from a tree.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...wildebeast.jpg
A big number of wildebeast arrived in the park, migrating here from Kenya.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...1-elephant.jpg
Elephants enjoying the abundance of green leaves.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...lionbabies.jpg
Lion babies are happily playing with their mum

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...173-hippos.jpg
Hippos enjoying a cool bath.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...4-lioncars.jpg
Most animals just ignore cars. They probably wouldn't ignore motorbikes though.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...75-leopard.jpg
Lazy leopard

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...6-lionlove.jpg
Lions are cool.

Marco,

I signed up so I can say thank you for your posts. I really appreciate that you take the time to share your trip. I've been following it on Google maps, and I am absolutely fascinated.

You are a terrific writer, and I also appreciate that you have a wonderful attitude, so very curious and grateful.

Great pics, too.

Thank you, and I'll be following you.

Cheers, mate.

Chris

Thanks Chris, I'm glad you like my story! There is a lot of cool stuff happening on a journey like this and it's sometimes not easy to find a way to put it into words in a way that you guys won't get bored.

I hope that you write as much as you have time for. I can't imagine getting bored by it.

Mwanza, Bukoba (Tanzania)
 

This time I must apologise for not posting any news for such a long time. I have been very lazy. And had some quite relaxing holidays lately.
I am still in Mwanza. When I first came here almost four weeks ago I only intended to stay for a few days enjoying Lake Victoria. But as so often plans change. First it was the daily downpour which kept me here. Also the task of getting a new rear tyre and waiting for it to be sent from South Africa. And the longer I stayed the more familiar I became with the place and the people. Up to a stage where I really enjoyed staying here.
When you are doing a motorbike journey every day is different to the day before. You go to different places, meet different people. Every day. Every day you start from zero again. Which is one of the most exciting things to do. But it is also tiring. So I often thought about what it would be like to stay in one place for longer. And to experience the life there to a much deeper extent. Instead of starting the new day from scratch you would have the previous day to build on. And that is what I did in Mwanza. Call it experimenting with living a Tanzanian life.

And I was really lucky here. Because I was able to make some good friends and was 'adopted' into a group of motorcycle taxi riders. Spending as much time with them as I could I soon met their families, was invited to several homes. There were poor families and rich families, small homes and big homes. There was a lot of good food. Some familiar, some not (e.g. fried grasshoppers). And many many stories. To many to post in here. But all really remarkable.

Let me just focus on one story because it was this family that I got involved with the most. There is Mr S., one of the motorbike taxi riders. He sort of stood out within the group because he spoke pretty good English and was obviously a pretty smart guy. So we often sat together out on the footpath after his shift just talking about life in Tanzania, life in Australia etc. He kept mentioning how much he loved school and that he dropped out of school some years back. And since then he is doing his taxi job to earn the money for going back and finish school. But the taxi business is quite tough if you are from a poor family. At the end of the day most of the money earned was paid to the owner of the motorcycle or for food to support the family of two brothers and two sisters. The very little money remaining was safely kept to be able to pay for school one day. That one day in the far distant future Mr S. keeps dreaming about.

When you are a traveller like me you obviously live on a budget. And as much as you would like to help with your money you just can't help everyone. But then you also spend an incredible amount of money on certain things. E.g. the Serengeti tour I did. Or to see the Mountain Gorillas in Rwanda soon. It is an incredible amount of money for local standards and it gives me a headache to think about what the same amount of money could do good for some local people here. So I try not to think about it.
But in fact spending so much time with these people and their families is an experience I truly enjoyed. Actually much more than the Serengeti tour. We laughed together, shared stories, ate together. And I was introduced into the life of a Tanzanian family. Which is an incredibly interesting thing for me and I loved every minute I spent with this family. It's been one of the things I wanted to experience in Africa. So I though in exchange for having such a memorable time here it's just fair to help getting this guy back into school.
So we sat together. Together with his friends. His family. His old teacher. For many evenings and nights. And developed a good plan for Mr S. to finish his school education. What I found most amazing then was the level of support we got from his friends. There was no jealousy, no 'why him and not me' attitude. But lots of real support and 'thumbs up'. And so the task of getting his school organised kept me busy for another two exciting weeks.
To get the most out of this opportunity we chose a school in Bukoba, some 400km away from Mwanza on the shores of Lake Victoria. Mr S. getting out of Mwanza guarantees that there is no distraction for him. No family urging him to work for a night to earn money for food. Or to skip school for work. And Mr S. is really keen to move to a new place too.
So Sunday last week his old teacher Mr D. and me, we took off on my little Suzuki towards Bukoba. Sadly if the school headmaster would see me around we would need to pay a large sum of corruption money to get Mr S. into his school. Because seeing a white guy means there is money to be made. So I stayed away from the school and Mr D. did all the negotiating and organising with the headmaster. And he was so successful in this that Mr S. had to come to Bukoba within a few days to attend an examination to be accepted to school. Sending him money for a ticket over the mobile phone network we picked him up two days later from Bukoba Port arriving on the ship from Mwanza. With the biggest smile on his face.
The three of us spent a whole week in Bukoba getting everything organised. We also found a nice place for Mr S. to live. A small room in a house up on a hill. Surrounded by banana trees. And with a small stream nearby to fetch water. Overall Bukoba is a good place to spend time in. There are beautiful beaches, everything is really green and fresh. There is a lively market. And friendly people. Really cool. After everything was organised and there was no more reason to ask for money I had a look at the school as well, into the classrooms, reading some excercise books and other material and talking to the academic master. And I'm pretty happy because it seems to be a pretty cool school. The whole thing was quite an experience! And Mr S. is very very happy, I wish you guys could see the big smile on his face.
Now I am back in Mwanza for one week before I continue on to Rwanda on Sunday to catch up with Martin again. Staying in Mwanza has been cool. But I can now really feel the urge to get going again. To get back into 'touring mode' and see new places. The wet season has finished very abruptly, rain on one day and sunshine the next. And sunshine ever since. And once I'm on the road again there will be more things to write about and I shall update this blog more often. Promised!
Meanwhile my little Suzuki is back in top shape. But I still have trouble with finding the new rear tyre. The tyre place in Pretoria really sucks. Can't count the number of times they promised me to call me back, to email me back, to have a quote ready. Nothing ever happened. For weeks and months. Just stupid promises whenever I called them. So 'stuff them' I thought and I'm getting my tyre now send by bus from Uganda. Which is not just heaps cheaper but also more straight forward. Just that I haven't got it yet. But maybe today. Or tomorrow with the next ship from Kampala. That tyre (Mitas E07) should then hopefully last all the way to Germany, I read a lot of cool things about this brand. But even my old Pirelli Scorpion did quite well, having done 13000km and still 1mm left on it. But it would surely die when we are in the Congo so I rather replace it now.
Crossing fingers that it all works out...

Bukoba Pics
 

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The MV Victoria sailing daily between Mwanza and Bukoba

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One happy student

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Senene - fried grasshoppers are a very popular dish in Bukoba

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The school in Bukoba which Mr S. will be attending soon.

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A typical classroom

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The new Catholic cathedral in Bukoba

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Bukoba beach at Lake Victoria

Hey great RR so far! Been looking forward to your updates. And thumbs up for doing some good. Like you say, you cant help everyone. But to help just one makes a world of difference to him and his family, and you end up feeling good yourself without going broke. And be careful in the DRC. With the recent elections it sounds like there is a little unrest. Im sure you have heard the news...

Thanks Gripforce,

yeah, the DRC is worrying us a lot. We now talked to many people coming across the border from the Congo. What they say seems to be not too bad (as far as you can say that about the DRC). At least for the area we intend to go through. Unrests are mainly concentrated in Kinshasa and the Katanga province. But we sure will check things out first before we enter too deep.
Right now we are in Kigali, Rwanda. There is internet access here but only very slow. And I mean really slow. So sorry, but today there will be no pics.
Hope you guys enjoy the following three reports!

Last days in Mwanza
 

Leaving Tanzania

It has been a very emotional farewell from Tanzania. After exactly two months in the country and just over four weeks being based in Mwanza. I again realised how quickly I got attached to the people around me. And they became good friends with me. But it was time for me to go. Definitely time to hit the road again. So the night before I left we went to the pub together. Just to listen to music and have a good time and a beer or a coke (for my muslim friends). And the next day really everyone turned up to say good bye. The guys from the motorcycle taxi gang, the people from the guesthouse, the family of my friend who I support to go back to school. There was a lot of hugging, shaking hands, good wishes and tears. A farewell not unlike the one when I left Sydney five months ago.

But even before that there were a few exciting last days in Mwanza. First of all I met a friendly Police officer who kindly told me that there is a helmet law in Tanzania for motorcyclists. Don't get me wrong, I usually wear my helmet every single time when riding. Just not this time because it was only to go to the copy shop maybe 200m away. Sorry, my mistake. However, I had a nice chat to the officer, had to promise not ever to ride without helmet again and got away with no fine.
Second thing to happen: there was a delay of my new tyre being delivered from Uganda. For reasons that only African people will ever understand and I don't want to go into too much detail here. However, it again delayed my departure from Mwanza for a few days.
By coincidence, on the day of my originally planned departure though, there was an accident on the road. On the little brawl that followed one of my friends from the bike taxi gang got arrested and put in jail in the local police station. The circumstances are another thing that only local people might understand but not me. And with this local understanding some of these friends tried their best to talk to police and get some information about why he is in jail. Or how to get him out. But nothing could really clarify the situation or help him. Some amounts of money mentioned in the process were not very helpful either. So the next day I offered to see if I can help. And went to the police station. Where I was promptly allowed to see this guy. And talk to him through the bars of the prison door. Man, it was a really poor image that presented itself to me. There are no beds. Just concrete floor. Totally overcrowded with people. Not sure if there are any toilets either. It certainly smelled like there are none. And my friend standing there, obviously having not slept all night and probably not eaten much either. One police officer explained the situation to me and gave me the mobile number of the case officer to consult about possible ways out of this situation. I called her and arranged a meeting one hour later. Where I expected to be told a large sum of money. But as so often, everything changed in an instant.
When I went back to the police station an hour later I run into the officer who caught me the day before without helmet. A really cool guy. He promptly took over my case. I didn't come anywhere near the actual case officer. An hour later I walked home together with my friend. No money asked. I will never forget the moment when my friend came into the office where I was waiting with the police officer. Barefeet. Smelling of a mix of old sweat and urine. Seing me sitting there, whispering in my ear: 'Marco, tonight, you and me, we are going HOME!'. Believe me, that really really feels cool!
And if you imagine the series of coincidences that lead to his release: first of all me being there in Mwanza and becoming friends with this guy. Second me being delayed by waiting for my tyre. Third me being caught riding without helmet which I usually never do. And finally to be running into that same friendly police officer again at the police station that day right in that moment when I expected to meet the case officer.
At the end my friend got away even without any charges, without any case. If it was not for this series of coincidences, who knows for how long he would have been stuck in there.
The tyre saga is also not entirely finished yet. At the end I got my tyre delivered from Uganda. Right size but incorrect brand. Instead of the MITAS tyre I got a VEE Rubber dirt bike tyre. I already wondered why they only asked for so little money. However, I am over it and have neither the time nor the patience to send it back and negotiate and wait for a new one. So I just strapped it to the back of my bike and started touring again. My old Pirelly is still okay for a few km and when the going gets muddy in the Congo the knobbly dirt tyre is probably a good turn of fortune anyway.
So I am back on the road again. I crossed into Rwanda today in Rusumo. A very easy and straight forward border crossing. No visa required (on my German passport), no chaos, no mess, only five minutes to get a temporary import permit for my little Suzuki and all finished. Very happy!
And Rwanda is beautiful, it's a paradise for motorbike freaks. A picture of thousands of lush green hills and perfect tarmac roads meandering their way up and down with many nice corners. And not much traffic at all. So you can really enjoy your ride. Around every corner another breath taking view opens into a green valley full of banana trees. And more green hills all around. Heaps fun to ride. In stark contrast to Tanzania Rwanda is very densely populated. There is houses and people everywhere, a continuous stream of people walking along the road side.
As a bit of a surprise however I quickly learned that in Rwanda you drive on the right hand side of the road. Which is an important thing to learn, right? After a few rather shocking moments I guess I learned that lesson now.
Tomorrow I will finally catch up with Martin and his girlfriend Esther again on the shores of Lake Kivu. I must say I really enjoyed travelling alone a lot. And had many awesome moments which would not have happened when travelling with someone else. Really cool experiences. But I am still looking forward to travel together with Martin again. It will be good to catch up again and share the rest of this awesome trip. Good fun to travel with a good friend.

Rwanda
 

Gisenyi, Rwanda

It has been another good day of ups and downs today. Literally, because travelling in Rwanda involves a lot of hills. I'm in Gisenyi now, or better WE are in Gisenyi now. Because since yesterday I am no longer travelling alone. Yesterday I met Martin and Esther again. We arranged to meet in Kibuye on Lake Kivu for lunch, me coming from Kigali and Martin and Esther coming from the South near the DRC border to Bukavu. And it became indeed a big lunch full of good stories.
So today we travelled together, the three of us. All the way from Kibuye to Gisenyi. Which is only about 100km. But it still took most of the day. First of all because we woke up to Esther's bike having a flat tyre. Fortunately there was a tyre repair place within walking distance. But as it goes in Africa things tend to take a while. Around one and a half hours later the tyre was finally fixed. And then it was the road which held us back. Don't get me wrong, it is a beautiful road between Kibuye and Gisenyi. Up and down green hills. With vistas on the left hand side over Lake Kivu. And on the right hand side over banana and tea plantations. Certainly one of the most beautiful sceneries for riding your favourite motorcycle. But the going on this road is really slow. It is a dirt road, a road with many many rocks littering the surface, with steep inclines and lots of narrow corners and also some hairy muddy sections. I learned that a combination of mud and my worn back tyre raises the blood pressure significantly. However, we had a lot of time to enjoy these 100km in first and second gear. As so often before the people along our route made travelling heaps fun today. Much more than in the countries we visited before people keep running towards us with excitement, waiving their hands. Kids in particular. And whenever we stop a big crowd forms around us instantly. The main interest is now directed towards us. No longer towards our motorcycles as it was the case in Tanzania. Here in Rwanda many many curious eyes keep watching our every move, children run around us chasing each other. And people try to communicate with us in any language they can. Mostly the local Rwanda language. It came as a surprise to me that French is not very common around the rural areas. Previously I thought French to be the official language. Which it is. But still, not many people speak it. Also to my surprise people in Rwanda seem to live much more in poverty than their counterparts in Tanzania. When you see the many modern high rise buildings in Kigali you wonder why there is so much poverty. But many people's clothes are absolutely in tatters. Particularly again for kids who are often a pity to look at. Except of course for their big white eyes and their big happy smile when they see us.
Gisenye has a border crossing into the DRC, into Goma. We stopped there today to inquire with people arriving from the Congo about the situation on the other side. Martin did the same thing at the border crossing to Bukavu. So we had something to compare with. And most interestingly there seems to be a consensus between people advising us where to cross and which route to choose. Because the most direct route involves too many 'people with guns'.

Ah yeah, the Congo really worries me. Worries me a lot. Currently I am really not sure if I want to go there. People we met kept warning us about rebels, about road blocks, many guerillas armed and drunk and stoned, and the need to pay them lots of money etc.. It is a really dodgy place to go through. But there is no alternative if we want to get to West Africa. There is also some conflict following the disputed election a few weeks ago. Currently this conflict is not affecting our planned route. But who knows what may develop from this??? I guess we will find out once we cross the border in around two weeks time...
At the same time I must say I miss the people of Mwanza. It was such a great time there, living the Tanzanian life. And I very often think back to it. I still receive phone calls and text messages from these guys on my mobile phone, invitations to celebrate Christmas with their families, pleas not to go to the Congo and to rather return to Mwanza. And I find it very hard to say no. Because one part of me really wants to be back in Mwanza. But now I am a traveller again. And part of a team to explore Africa.

We will soon have Christmas. And to properly celebrate we booked ourselves in for the Mountain Gorilla trekking here in Rwanda. Many Africa travellers I know pick this one as their most memorable experience in Africa. And so I am really looking forward to it. Once we are back I will probably exitedly type my longest report ever about meeting the Gorillas and you will all fall asleep reading it. So stay tuned!
On a second thought this will most likely be posted after Christmas anyway. Internet is very hard to find in Rwanda... So even though you cannot read it in time - I wish you all a very happy Christmas. And thank you very much for following our journey over the last five months.

Rwanda again
 

Today is Christmas day, another Christmas without family. So it actually does not feel much like Christmas. We are camping next to a small path in the North of Rwanda, surrounded by lots and lots of children. Most in tattered clothes, watching our every move in excitement. Right here Christmas does not seem to matter.
But even in Rwanda you can see the occasional Christmas tree, mostly a chinese plastic model with many colourful flashing lights. Or sometimes you hear a Christmas song out of a shop or a small stall on the street. In these moments you remember to think of your friends back home and how different their Christmas is.
Yesterday, on Christmas Eve, we went to see one of the highlights for all Africa travellers: the Mountain Gorillas in the Parc National de Volcanoes in Rwanda. Very early in the morning we set off from Ruwengeri to meet our guide in the NP head quarters at 7am. From there it was another 30 minutes ride to the start of the track. And man, that was indeed some of the roughest terrain I have ever ridden my little Suzuki along. Rocks and ruts and mud, the whole lot. Pretty scary if you have the wellbeing of your lovely bike in mind.
Once at the start of the track our small group assembled for a short briefing and then up we went, up the volcano. We were incredibly lucky again for having a beautiful sunny day after many days of rain. Our group was eight tourists, one guide and one security officer with a big gun. His job was to protect us from the aggresive buffaloes in the park. Seing his big gun we felt a lot safer. Although it wasn't the buffaloes to worry us. Because we soon learned how the buffaloes stay away from the gorillas. For a Gorilla can easily kill a buffalo if it feels treatened by it's presence.
It took us a few hours of hiking the steep and muddy terrain until we found our designated gorilla family. It was a group of twelve gorillas, three Silverbacks, three babies and the rest some females and juveniles. All sitting around or sleeping or playing within a few metres of each other in the lush green shrub that makes up the volcanoe's vegetation. We were given one hour with these friendly gorillas. Friendly because they literally ignored us. Sometimes coming really close, even within a metre of us. Or walking around us when we blocked the path. These apes were not concerned about the 10 people standing around watching them. The other way around was a different matter though. For us normal people, not habituated to have a 200kg gorilla running past with maybe a metre to spare, it is quite a chilling experience. But cool, really cool. Of all the animal tours and game drives etc. we ever did in Africa, the gorilla trekking was by far the most exciting. You're not sitting in a car, you're not protected by a fence or a cage, nothing. You're just out there in the bush, small and vulnerable. And you are there at the grace of a family of huge animals. And that is a pretty sexy feeling. Also because these guys act so human, you can tell their intentions by the expressions on their face, they play with their babies same as people would do. When they look at you with their big black eyes you would almost expect them saying "G'day, how are you?". It was a really awesome way to spend Christmas eve.
And today, on Christmas day, we went riding our bikes again. From Ruwengeri to the border with Uganda. There we sold the little 125ccm tanzanian motorbike of Esther. Because she will fly back home after Christmas. So then it will only be Martin and myself, taking on the mighty Congo.
In the last couple of days we asked every person we could get hold of with a Congo registered car or truck about the situation there. Some simply advised us to stay away as far as possible. Others were more specific and explained us the situation in more detail. About which roads have a high probability for rebel attacks (e.g. the road south of Bukavu averages a 40 armed attacks per week). But alltogether we plotted a route through the Congo which might not be the shortest but the safest. Many truck drivers agree on that route, it is doable by semi trailer, the likelyhood of rebel attacks is less than on all other routes. And just in case, these rebels are supposed to be friendlier, asking for money first before they shoot. So let's cross fingers. Another issue is the recent election. Both, the incumbend president Kabila and the leader of the opposition claim to be the winner of the election. Some people predict this may lead to a civil war. But most expect that Mr. Kabila has such a broad support that the opposition will simply not get the numbers together for any serious trouble. Trouble so far is restricted to the capital Kinshasa and some southern provinces far away from us. So we should be fine.
But on a serious note, this report will probably be the last one for a long time. We don't expect much internet access in the following weeks and we expect a slow going. We should be out of the worst by mid February. Till then, for our own security, I don't want to publish our exact route here on the net. But I promise to tell you guys our Congo adventures once we are back in a safe location. And I promise to turn around and get out of that place as soon as we smell trouble.
Until then, take care!

Merry Christmas to you, too, Marco. Thanks again for writing.

Take care, and good luck. I'll be waiting for your posts in February.

bier

Happy New Year from Rwanda
 

Today is our last day in Rwanda. Esther is already in a plane on her way home to Germany while Martin and me, we continue our journey. Just the two of us.
During the last few days we saw a lot of dead people. Rwanda is unfortunately famous for the genocide against the Tutsi group which happened during only a few months in 1994. But it left more than one million people dead. The memorial sites around the country are countless. Every town has their own story and their mass grave. Most of the time just a faceless concrete slab and a plaque. But there are a few sites which stand out. And yesterday and today I visited four of them.
Yesterday I went to the small town of Gikongoro, a very nice ride for 140km of excellent tarmac through green hilly landscape. Today's memorial is on the compound of a polytechnical college, a school building and a few boarding houses. On this site, just during two days in 1994, 50000 people died. Being hacked to pieces with machetes or other sharp instruments, being smashed by timber clubs with nails or simply chopped up with axes.
After the genocide 1000 of those casualties were exhumed and mumified using powderised lime. And these 1000 bodies are placed back into the rooms where so many of them died. So you go from room to room, each one filled with the smell of rotten flesh. You go there and see these bodies, completely white from the lime powder. But still in the position in which they died. Mothers hugging babies, others bent in agony. There are kids, women, old people, young people. You see these horrible injuries, many smashed heads. And most disturbing of all the expressions in their face, frozen in time from the moment of them dying. Room after room the same picture, rooms filled with bodies in agony. 1000 of them. And you know there are still more than 49000 still in mass graves on that very same compound. A very impressive memorial indeed.
Then today I went to the countrie's main genocide memorial in Kigali. There it is mainly the story which is told. Told in text and pictures, original radio excerpts and videos. And although it might not be as spectacular as these bodies in Gikongoro, the story alone is good to make you shiver. And it is on this very site where 250000 casualties are buried. A quarter of a million people who were killed just in this one town alone. Killed for no reason.
Then there is also the church of Ntarama which is left untouched from the day the genocide happened. 10000 people died in here, sheltering in the protection of the church. But to no avail. The bodies have been buried in a mass grave on the ground. But today you still see their clothes piled up, torn and stained. Huge piles of them. And you see the blood stained floor. The holes in the wall from the granades. The various belongings of the people hoping to survive in there. Bags, pens, water bottles etc.. And you see the brutal instruments left behind by the killers. Machetes, axes, wooden clubs, chains.
On one wall you see a thick black substance. Our guide explained that this was the spot where babies got smashed against the wall. That black substance is the mix of skin, blood, brain and hairs of countless babies.

And finally there is the church of Nyamata, another church which offered a false sense of protection for many. 20000 people died here. In Nyamata the mass graves are open. So you can climb down and are stared upon by 20000 skulls, many with cuts and holes through the bone or bits and pieces missing. The bones of all the victims are put in huge shelves, really overwhelming to stand in between those.
Seeing all this really kills the happiness out of your day. But fortunately Rwanda today is a much happier place. And much praise has to be said about the people and the government to rise out of this mess from 1994 and create a safe and modern society. Rwanda is the first country we visited where people are very happy with their government. And seeing where they are coming from and where they are now they have all reason to be proud.
In the Rwanda today you have expensive european cars, I-phones, street lighting, drinkable tap water and traffic lights. Most roads are excellent tarmac with good footpaths and working drainage. Plastic bags are banned and everything is really clean. Remarkable for Africa, hey?

There has also been a big change for us. Both, Martin and me developed a really bad feeling about our choice of route lately. We both could feel the heavy weight of the DRC on our mood. And we started talking about alternative options to get to Germany.
Information from people who just came out of the DRC or who work there is really really discouraging. We talked to many at border crossings to Rwanda. And they strongly advised us not to go. With much weight on the word STRONGLY. Rebel activity and armed robberies or killings are numerous in the provinces of North and South Kivu and Orientale. There is one stretch of road with an average of 40 armed hold-ups per week. And these are exactly the three provinces we need to go through to get to Kisangani. And biggest current issue is that after the election the violence continues with the failed opposition candidate threatening to form his own government and fight the one of Mr Kabila. So currently there is two presidents in the Congo. Many people see a valid chance of the DRC sliding into a civil war any time from now. Probably sometime when we would be right in the middle of it. On top of that the many thousand km of really miserable road, lack in petrol stations etc., not a pleasant place to go through. Other countries on our list like the Centralafrican Republik or Niger deteriorated too to a degree that the security situation is more than bad. There is only 11 countries in the world which the Australian government advised to 'Do Not Travel' and recommending that if you are in one of those 11 countries you need to get out now. Countries like Afghanistan, Iraq or Somalia. And also DRC, Centralafrican Republic and Niger. And even though often this government advice is on the pessimistic side of things, both Martin and me did not like the fact to travel through this dangerous mess for the next couple of months and along many thousand of km. After all we are here to enjoy our time. And it's hard to enjoy when you are scared. For valid reasons or not. There is a huge difference in researching the internet from your safe living room in Sydney and talking to the people on the ground coming across the border. Watching the expressions on their face when we say we go through the DRC.

So we revised our route to go along the eastern countries, back to Tanzania then Kenya, Ethiopia, Djibouti, Eritrea, Sudan and Egypt. These places will be very different from West Africa but nonetheless interesting. Believe me, this was a very very tough decision and we put a lot of thinking and consideration into it. Because West Africa is really luring us. Just the way to get there causes us so much trouble. But with our new plan we still have many options. Because fortunately we have a lot of time. Depending on our time and condition on arrival in Egypt we shall decide which way to continue from there.
As for the next couple of days we will do a lot of riding through Tanzania and Kenya and then spend much more time in Ethopia, a country which both of us are keen to see. And no more worrying about the Congo. Happy days again!

Rwanda Pics
 

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Typical scene in Rwanda. It is all very green and hilly.

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Another new friend. More than in other countries big crowds form around us whenever we stop with our bikes.

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My little Suzuki and a tea plantation

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Silverback Mountain Gorilla in the Volcanoes National Park

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Juvenile Gorilla

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Chameleon

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Volcanoes National Park in the distance

Happy New Year everyone!
 

Everyone thanks again for following this blog. It's really good to know there's people out there interested in what we are doing in Africa!
I wish you all a very Happy New Year 2012 full of adventure and dreams realised!

We are now on our way back through Tanzania and Kenya. And our New Year's celebration will be in Mwanza. We decided to go through Mwanza again for saving us the money for another Uganda Visa and Uganda motorbike insurance. It seems like destiny keeps pushing me back to this place. But here we know people and we had a welcome like kings when we arrived back at my old guesthouse with the motorbike taxis in front. Really really cool.

On Jan 1st we should then continue around Lake Victoria to Musoma and Kenya. 2010 will be another year of good fun!

Hi Marco

Its the British cyclist you met in Southern Tanzania. Sad news about the DRC, but the trip through Ethiopia etc... should make up for it. I'll be heading up to Ethiopia from Nairobi in mid-February, so looking forward to reading your posts.

Wayne

Hey good thinking about re-routing. As much as I was looking forward to news from DRC, its a smart choice to avoid trouble like that. Happy New Year and good luck in the upcoming travels. At least we can look forward to more frequent updates!

Sounds like you and Martin made a good decision.

Be advised that the US State Department has recently issued travel warnings for Kenya, Eritrea and the Republic of South Sudan. Current Travel Warnings

I hope this New Year is as adventurous for you, and, vicariously, for us, as the past one has been. BTW, how close were you to that silverback?

Great blog BikingMarco, really enjoy it. I'm happy to hear you guys have decided not to follow up with the DRC, a very wise decision indeed... You might wanna think long and hard about the Sudan, too. Perhaps not much better than the DRC really.

Anyway, keep the nice posts and pictures coming. At the end of your trip I would also really love if you could make a post about the highlights of your travels, and recommend to anyone going to Africa only for a few weeks the "unmissable" spots to visit.

Will keep following your travels! Take care and travel safely.

Sam

Hey Wayne, good to see you here on the forum. It's been a long time since we met in Tanzania, maybe we can do it again. We are in Nairobi now and head up towards Ethiopia soon.

I sure will put these things together. But it will be a list of personal favourites. So dont blame me if you guys dont like these places...

Another year, another country. I wish you all a happy New Year from Nairobi, Kenya.
We had a pretty good New Year celebration with my friends in Mwanza. I liked it because it was pretty low key and heaps fun. Low key because no one had much money for fancy drinks. Or any drinks actually. And heaps fun because Tanzanians know how to have a good time without spending extraordinary amounts of money. So we stayed in a big group. Every beer lasted for an hour. And we listened to cool Tanzanian music in the pub and danced around. It was a good time and it went on till the early morning hours. However, the midnight point was pretty much ignored by everyone. But yeah, why not.

The next day, first of January, Martin and me, we left Mwanza. To go straight to Musoma and the Kenyan border. It is a beautiful tarmac road all the way. Passing by Lake Victoria, the Serengeti NP (with lots of Wildebeasts and Zebras next to the road) and the beautiful Rift Valley. We rode through green valleys and up green hills. Everything looks green and fresh and it is so much fun to ride along there and just enjoy our free life. The border crossing into Kenya was very easy, no fuzz at all.
On the other side of the border a very different picture presented itself to us. Whereas there was not much but empty landscape on the Tanzania side, in Kenya there were busy streets, towns and lots of people. Lots of people everywhere. Particularly on the street. And shops, banks, restaurants, mobile phone agents - everything was there in big numbers. Traffic became much more chaotic and potholes more frequent and deeper.

Re-routing our journey along the East coast of Africa might have avoided Africa's worst trouble spots and opened up brand new places of awesome interest. But it also created new hurdles to get over. Like the visa for Ethiopia. I never thought it would be so difficult. But you simply can't get it from Kenya. No way. Drives you crazy. Because it is so pointless. You can fly in and get a visa at the airport in Addis Ababa on arrival. You can come from the North and get a visa in Karthoum. No problem. But if you come from the South there is no way. Same person, same passport, same destination but no way. T.I.A. (...this is Africa). So our passports are now on the way home. Because the visa is cheaply available in your country of residence. Just the DHL transport for your passport is not cheaply available. $150 for the return journey. Fortunately they can put two passports in one parcel so we can split the costs. As so often before the typical degree of efficiency in Africa kept us busy for the whole day. For one simple purpose: get the passports to DHL and then sent to the embassy. It required us to visit three different DHL offices across Nairobi, 50km there and back and in between. 50km in hair raising traffic with seemingly millions of cars which without any noticeable order negotiate the pothole littered streets. Or just stop somewhere on these streets. Somewhere you would never guess.

Nairobi is a very different place compared to the Africa we experienced during the last few months. The city centre is filled with modern high rise buildings. It is by far the most modern city since we left South Africa. There are shopping malls which would not be out of place in Sydney. Apple computer stores, tablet computers, original branded mobile phones, designer clothes and brand new European cars not even seen in Sydney. And many white people too. In fact, here on our campsite (Jungle Junction) there is one Swiss couple, one Japanese motorcyclist and every other guest is German. German people seem to overrun this place. Most with chic BMW or KTM motorcycles and latest-on-the-market gear. Or huge trucks purpose built for travelling. It is kind of cool to be surrounded by travellers. Although many have different ways of travelling and seem to be a bit in a rush. A rush to make it to all the sightseeing highlights as proposed by their guidebook. We will need to stick around here for a week or so to wait for our passports to return from home. And I guess it will be a tough week.
It came to me like a sudden shock when we arrived yesterday. Walking through a modern air conditioned shopping mall full of white people in good clothes. And camping in a 'German Village'. I miss the friendlyness and the team spirit, the sense of togetherness we had when we were surrounded by local people. Don't get me wrong, these tourists are friendly, really friendly and helpfull of course. But in a very different way and only up to a certain point and no further. There is always at least a bit of distance to be kept, always a bit of competition going on. I guess I am quite spoiled now by the great experience I had in Mwanza and all those other places. Being part of a local group of people for so long and feeling that spirit of 'we are together' as it is so common in Tanzania, the 'looking after each other' sort of thing. Being in this shopping mall yesterday, walking past these incredibly expensive shops, there was this urgent need to run out, jump on my bike and get out of that place. So to summarise my current state of emotions I would say I feel terribly out of place.

However, being in Jungle Junction, my little Suzuki really feels well. There is many cool and clean other bikes for her to share adventure stories with. I purposely did not clean her so she really looks tough compared to the others. It is the only DR650 around. And she is a little star because you cannot buy her kind in Germany. So her sheer existence is a surprise to our new found German friends. There is also good tools to borrow. And clean bits of cloth. E.g. to clean the chain. It's amazing how a ripped piece of old cloth can make you happy. Just in time today my little Suzuki also told me about her desire for a new fuel hose. By drenching the parking lot of the fancy shopping centre with smelly fuel from her ripped fuel hose connection to her carburator. Well done, this shopping centre surely deserves something dirty. Similar thing as it happened some months ago in Zimbabwe. These fuel hoses came together with the Safari tank and seem to be of inferior quality compared to the original Suzuki ones. Knowing that there is a Suzuki store in Nairobi I shall treat her with a replacement of all fuel hose bits and pieces tomorrow. Also the gear shift lever became a bit shaky lately, so much so that it already scratched some lines into the engine cover. Which is not good. So I have to do something there. But generally she is still doing well, extraordinarily well for the conditions we got through. We almost reached the 30000km mark by now, all done together, little Suzuki and me, the two of us. 20000km since leaving Sydney. And 15000km since arriving in Johannesburg. And there are still the same tyres from Australia on her too, the ones I bought before I left Perth. Not once did she brake down, not once did she stop. There was never any serious trouble with her. It seems like she likes me too. Really really cool.

Me and to an even further extent Martin go through a bit of a period of frustration at the moment. For re-routing our tour, for the trouble with the visa, for being stuck here to wait for our passports. It is good to be together and get over this. We are already looking forward to another country, to Ethiopia. And the rest of the trip. But we also still look for options to get to Germany. Which is not easy now that Syria is closed. There is no way to go overland. There is an option to go to Libya and Tunisia and by ferry to Italy. Or there is a ferry from Israel to Italy. Ot a freight ship from Egypt. But to be honest, we want to ride. Ride all the way. Not cheating by taking a ship. So we also consider the route Sudan - Saudi Arabia (apparently it is easy to get a transit visa for Saudi Arabia in Karthoum) - UAE. By then I am almost closer to Australia than to Germany though.
Don't know, but the guy who invented visas should simply be shot.

Nairobi pics
 

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...80-skyline.jpg
Nairobi is quite a modern city, much more than I would have expected for this part of Africa.


http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...81-friends.jpg
These guys work for a car wash place not far from our campground. It is part of a project to keep the youth of the street and generate them some income. I could never get past that place without being called in for chatting for a while. It's been really cool and I still find it is the people who make you like a place or not.


http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/182-city.jpg
Big advertisement banners give Nairobi city a lot of colour.


http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/183-city.jpg
Traffic in Nairobi is quite chaotic. There is always some flow but in no way is it predictable. Overtaking into oncoming traffic, lane splitting, going on the footpath, just stopping somewhere - it is all part of the mix.


http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/184-city.jpg
Typical street scene in Nairobi city.


http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/185-city.jpg
Nairobi CBD features a lot of modern skyscrapers.

Last post from Nairobi
 

We can be heaps happy with our progress lately. We were able to secure two more visa for the onward journey. The Ethiopia Visa was given to us after DHLing our passports home and back. And the Sudan Visa is cheaply available here in Nairobi within a few hours. Since we dont need visas for Egypt in theory these two visas should see us through the rest of Africa. Unless of course we can secure a visa for Djibouti (which is easy) and Eritrea (which is not easy) in which case we would do a loop through these two countries as well.
While waiting for our DHL package to return to Nairobi we had the opportunity to have a closer look at the place. I really like Nairobi. It is such a colourful place, so lively. once you dodged the traffic to make it into the CBD you will find a buzzling modern city with lots of people moving around or sitting around. Even though it is a big city people are still of the friendly kind who have time to say hello and shake hands with you. Sometimes totally out of the blue.
Because of the epic traffic conditions on Nairobi's roads there is a lot of pollution in the air. But apart from that the city is really clean. The inner city at least. It is a different story in the townships just outside.
Not too far from our campground there is such a township. I often went there because of an awesome market to buy mangoes or drink some fresh juice. And again there were some cool people to connect with. This time it was a bunch of young guys working for a car wash within a project to keep young people busy. Whenever I got near that place there was a lot of shouting and waiving hands so I just had to go in every day to chat for maybe an hour. In return for me choosing their place to clean my little Suzuki they took me along to their lunch place. Oh sh..t, I can tell you. Lunch was a big timber cutting board full with 'meat'. For everyone to share. But it was really not meat on there, more a mix of smelly fat, cut intestines, sliced cow tongue etc. And a million flies hovering over it. As a matter of politeness I ate some while the other guys dug in. There was also a cup of 'soup' which I had no chance to refuse. Apparently it gives you heaps energy. And it did. It was very watery with some white foam on top. And tasted like destilled meat soup, I never before experienced such an intense meat taste. Without finding any meat in it. Straight after I was sweating profusely, I guess this soup provided more energy than I needed. And so I promply felt very sick a few hours later. It's just no good for western stomachs. Not seriously sick but sick enough to hang around toilet facilities for a day. However, it's all fine now and I am fit to continue the journey North. So from tomorrow on we will make our way towards Ethiopia. The first time for me to cross the Equator on land.
There is still one worry though. Due to the unsuitability of the sandy Turkana Route for Martin's heavy Africa Twin (that's what everyone says) and me not being keen in battling hundreds of km of deep sand either we need to cross the border at Moyale. And it is in Moyale where just during the last few days more than 20 people died in tribal clashes. Apparently they recognise tourists as being neutral in their feud though. So we hope and cross fingers.

Thanks for sharing your adventures. I admire the way you interact with the locals. Great story!

Great reading.
 

Hi,
Just a short note to say how I have enjoyed reading your posts. I arrive into Cape Town from Buenos Aires at the start of March with my KLR650. I'm really looking forward to Africa and your blog has made the last few weeks at my work all that harder to suffer through. I wish I was there now.
Kind regards
Ben.

Leaving Kenya
 

A lot has happened since we left Nairobi. A lot of riding actually. And some lessons in bike mechanics.
Firstly I must proudly say that for the first time ever I checked and adjusted the valve clearance on my little Suzuki. It seemed like a major operation to me. To open the lid of her little engine and screw around in what is underneath. But hey, in Jungle Junction Nairobi there is a whole bunch of DIY bike mechanics who could group around and watch and teach me and lend me the tools. So now I feel much better for being sure it's all checked and okay. And proud that I now know how to do this.
Also Martin's Honda had some trouble, loosing power uphills and only running on one cylinder. Fortunately his bike has a second one. It took a while to identify the problem as a bit of fuel pipe which was bent just a bit too much.
With both bikes running at their best we were now fit to leave Nairobi and go North, across the equator, beyond the Little Suzuki's 30000km mark and onto the infamous 520km Isiolo - Marsabit - Moyale Route. The so called Trans East Africa Highway. Which sounds like a six lane major arterial road. But apperently it's not.
Since it is the main route between Kenya and Ethiopia and in fact the major of the two possible border crossings I am sure many of you guys know this route from your own experience. For all the others let me quickly explain what we heard about it before we went there.

1.) it is called the Bandit Highway known for the many armed robberies along the desolate and lonely route

2.) somewhere in this forum you will find the story of a French tourist who got shot in the back by bandits along this route

3.) just days before we left Nairobi more than 20 people died in violent clashes in Moyale and Isiolo

4.) the road is of such quality that out of a group of 9 BMW bikes coming from Moyale 8 needed new shocks in Nairobi

5.) in Jungle Junction in Nairobi you can see a Best Of cabinet of shock absorbers molten to something like charcoal along this route.

Sounds really tempting, hey?

But we had no choice. And so we went.

First of all we were really surprised for how long the tarmac continued beyond the mark on our map. In fact the first 137km North of Isiolo is perfect brand new tarmac. The map only showed 30km. That gave us a good head start.
But what came thereafter really met our expectations. Between the end of the tarmac and the town of Marsabit the entire road is deeply deeply corrugated. Not in a way that you go over it with an 80 speed, I guess you probably need a 200 speed to smooth these things out. Or the only other alternative is to go slow. Learning from other peoples experiences with their shocks we rather went slow. First and second gear, something around 15-20km/h seemed appropriate without diving in too much. This should be a long long journey. You try on the left hand side of the road - you get shaken to the bones. You try on the right - same story. The other side of the road looks always better from this side of the road. But it's not. You try to accelerate along a smooth bit and WHAM these corrugations you didn't see in the glaring sun shake the fillings out of your teeth before you can even think of slowing down.
If you go so slow through a desert plain so close to the equator of course you get baked. Soon our water bottles contained hot water. Quickly vanishing into our thirsty throats. And the dust clouds you keep diving in when there is an oncoming truck soon give all your stuff the identical look. Ocre brown, very cool.
But the landscape is simly awesome. Flat desert, some Acacia Trees with their flat crowns, some hills in the distance, the air flickering in the heat, black volcanic rocks littering the landscape. Every now and then there would be a herd of cattle. Or camels. Accompanied by a few local people in what we would describe as traditional african outfit. Guys wearing feathers in their hair. And hundreds of layers of tiny necklaces around their neck. And a long spear in their hand. Really beautiful people.
Apart from that there are also many huge ostriches along the road, quickly running away from the sound of our slowly approaching engines.

The first night we camped some 60km South of Marsabit, just bushcamping. Believe me, you're groggy enough to not care about bandits too much. But anyway, we hid away behind a small sand hill just off the track and shuffled our tyre tracks so no one would see any evidence of us from the road. And no one did.
The next day the same game continued till Marsabit. Which is a surprisingly decent size town. With shops, restaurants, two petrol stations and even a bank with Visa Card ATM. I had to withdraw some extra money to be able to afford all the extra water along the way. Man, was it hot there. So much more than in Nairobi.
Also in Marsabit we met two Germans travelling the same route North in a Mercedes 4WD. We actually met them on our way out when they just came back into town to grab some lunch. But they promised to catch up with us along the way and camp together with us somewhere. Which was really cool for us.
So off we went. Initially the road North of Marsabit was nicely graded and you could almost go into 3rd gear. Which excited us heaps. But not for long.
The landscape changed from Acacia Steppe to grass desert. Flat to the horizon. No tree, no hill, no shade. And most significantly: the 'road' was now a track of deep deep loose gravel. Two tyre tracks. And on their side and in between them a wall of loose gravel. It formed something like railway tracks for us. Once you're in you can't get out. BUT: these railway tracks were not as clean as real railway tracks. No, much too often there were big boulders in them blocking the path, or holes where somebody dug out a truck. Or sometimes the gravelwalls grew too high and collapsed back into the path. Ever tried to climb up a 30cm wall of loose gravel parrallel to your wheel with a fully loaded touring bike to avoid an obstacle? Heaps fun!
While the scenery emptied out more and more the depth of loose rocks within our 'railway' track increased more and more. Until it was a multi km fishtailing adventure bike race between Martin in the right track and me in the left track. All this became particularly cool when there was oncoming traffic. With two wheels in each of our tracks. Ever played chicken with a truck, lights flashing?

Again, we went through loads of water in the heat and were really really happy to see our German friends waiting for us at the side of the road just after sunset. To guide us to their beautiful bushcamping spot a hundret metres off the road. And they treated us to an ostrich egg. Really nicely cooked with fresh tomato and onion, perfectly what we needed. It's incredible how big these eggs are. Apparently similar size to 20 chicken eggs. And this one really filled two big cooking pots!

So today we are still on that same road. You don't travel far in second gear. Bit till now our shocks are still in great condition, not a hint of oil leaking. That's when we say it was worth it!
Today's strech between Marsabit and Moyale included many washed out sections, sometimes metre deep cave-ins of the road surface. The surface further north is of the rather clay or sand type of material. And in the recent rain it got washed away on many creek crossings (=big hole in the road and clean concrete pipe inside). The typical scenarios road engineers back home have nightmares about when designing culverts. This of course led to a few trucks getting stuck when it was fresh and wet. And they got dug out. Which left some more half meter deep ruts over a few hundret meters length or simply deep holes which now, in the dry, are pretty much like cast in concrete. In between those ruts sand or clay at least is a surface type which does not seem to corrugate so well. So we achieved quite unbelievable speeds on some of these sections!
Bush camping this time happened on a water hole just 25km South of Moyale. By then it was dark, the border would have been closed at 6pm anyway. So we decided to go there today instead. The environment here up north is much more varied and better for camping. There is more bush, more trees, everything is more green and fresh. But still hardly any villages, hardly any people around here.
Continueing today we soon arrived in Moyale. A really strange town when you get in. People stare at you stranger than in other towns. The road goes steeply uphill and is deeply washed out. Just right in the town centre it is business as usual, a buzzing town with shops and restaurants. Just something seems to be strange on it, can't explain what.
The border crossing again was very simple. On the Kenya side we met two really friendly guys to do our paperwork. One working for immigration (=paperwork for us) and one working for Customs (paperwork for our bikes). All done quickly and friendly and for no costs.
Same on the Ethiopian side for Customs. Filling in a form, stamping the Carnet, finished. Just immigration - well, it was closed for lunch. Reopening 4 hours later. Doesn't seem to worry anyone if the only immigration officer on this side of the border quickly goes for a four hour lunch session every day. I wonder what his menu must look like. However, we used the time to visit -half illegaly- the Ethiopian side of Moyale, changed money, bought petrol, had a cold drink, had lunch and soon these four hours were gone. Back in the immigration office we met an officer who had not enjoyed his lunch break as much as we expected him to. Whatever it was, it still made him angry. But he could not vent his anger on us and filled our details into his book instead. And then, with the full weight of his job's responsibility he stamped our passports. And when I say the full weight I mean it. Like a cricket bowler his arm described an almost full circle to gain enough momentum for an explosive and powerful touchdown of his rubberstamp into our passports. Once this task was finished he simply threw the passports roughly into our direction and left the office and us sitting there.
So we are now in Ethiopia, another great country to explore. Let's go!

Again, the bikes did a fantastic job in the rough terrain during the last few days. Our shocks still seem alright. I am very glad now that I upgraded them back home. No bolts got lost and nothing else got shaken apart. I am still travelling on my old Pirelli tyre with next to no profile left on it. But even that one went across these millions of sharp edged loose rocks without any harm. Even hitting the occasional big rock neither rim nor tyre had any complaints. Motorbikes are really way tougher than I would ever have thought.

Now there should be some pictures... But there aren't... Not from this Internet cafe. The connection speed simply does not want to know about pictures. Sorry guys.

Ethiopia
 

Ethiopia did not make it easy for us. But it is worth every bit of effort that you put in there. At least of what we have seen now we can say Ethiopia is beautiful.
When we came across the border in Moyale our usual priorities kicked in again: money, food, petrol. We knew there are not many ATM outside Addis Ababa so we had to exchange some US$ cash for Ethiopian Birr at the bank in Moyale. Just to be able to survive till we get to a bigger city and have a chance to withdraw money at an ATM. We don't like using our US$ for everydays money because it is like an emergency cash reserve for us which is hard to replenish once it is gone.

However, the real challenge that met us a bit later was petrol. Coming along the Marsabit - Moyale route we both saved weight as much as we could and only had minimal petrol with us to reach Moyale. And in Moyale, both Kenyan side and Ethiopian side of the border, there are petrol stations. But no petrol. Sorry finished, try next town. One hundret km away. Good luck. So we bought extremely expensive petrol at the black market to reach the next town. A town called 'Mega' and pretty big on the map. But same problem. Petrol station yes. Petrol no. Try next town. One hundred km away. So again we used the expensive services of the black market to just make it to the next town, Yabello. Getting there, two petrol stations, no petrol. Sorry, try next town, eighty five km away. But, in a major change of luck, even the black market was sold out. Also, asking a Police man, there would not be petrol in the next town or the one after. That's the sort of problem we tryed to avoid by not going to Malawi. But now it caught up with us in Ethiopia.
But when you are on holidays you are in good spirit and problems don't exist. The big towns with their empty petrol stations are not on our route anyway, we wanted to turn west into the Omo Valley. So, lucky as we were we could buy some petrol from the local Tuk Tuk taxi company, enough to take us the 100km to Konso, the first place of any size in the Omo Valley region. And cool thing is, in Konso there was petrol available at the petrol station. In strange twists and turns first there wasn't, then some local people discussing the matter and suddenly, 10min later petrol was flowing out of the pump with the 'Kerosene' label. To the normal pump price. And yes, it was petrol, not kerosene. So we both filled up every corner of our tanks and the reserve jerry cans and should now be fine to travel freely through the Omo Valley and into Arba Minch, a big town where apparently petrol is available again.
The Omo Valley is famous for it's colourful people. There is so many little tribes, just occupying a village or two. And being distinctively different from the tribe in the neighbouring villages. And all living peacefully together. There is people decorating themselves with feathers, others with layers of colourful necklaces covering their entire neck. Others decorate their bodies with scars, often thousand little dots forming lines and other patterns on the skin. Some like rasta hair, others short hair, others have whole designs woven and cut into their hair. Really beautiful people. It is the first such big area we travel through where people don't usually wear western style clothes.
But everyone also understands the value of tourism and that spoiled the charm of the area. To visit one of the old traditional villages you need to pay for your permit, a parking fee and take a guide with you who of course costs money. To take photos of people you don't usually just ask and snap but here ask and pay and snap. Tourists even need to pay to visit the market. But even the area outside these 'traditional' villages is still worth a visit and really interesting to see. We didn't see any of the 'payable' villages.

And then we had another flat tyre day. For Martin's back wheel. The perpetrator being a big fat rusty nail. In the peak of mid day heat. But in Africa, even in the middle of nowhere you are not alone and soon we had a few local hands helping us while many tourist cars just went past. The tyre was quickly fixed. But 15min later flat again. The patch just came loose. Probably too hot here. But again, within minutes a whole heap of helping hands around. Tyre fixed. Air pumped in. Flat again. Tube removed. Patch came loose again. Don't know why, but I heard from others too that there is trouble patching tyres in extreme outside temperatures. These bloody patches just wouldn't stay on! Fortunately we carried a spare tube which finally solved the problem and prevented it from becoming a heat stroke problem for us. There was no shade whatsoever on that road.
The next day we spent entirely in the Omo Valley and with it's colourful people. Already in the morning we were greeted by a whole bunch of them. We spent our night bushcamping, just somewhere far from anywhere. Yet there they were in the morning. Some topless, others covered in goatskins and some in colourful woven blankets. Just there watching our every move. Trying our every thing. And if they like it asking if they could have it. Even my motorbike jacket was deemed so useful that they asked to have it. But really good people too. You say no and they give it all back to you without discussion.
The rest of the day we spent riding through beautiful environments. In the Omo Valley you are almost alone on the road. No other traffic. One one side there is always the mountains. Green and lush and close. The other side is usually flat. And green too. And in between it's just you and your motorbike. Zooming along a perfectly graded dirtroad. A little white dustcloud following you. Warm wind blowing in your face through the open visor. Every now and then you see people walking along or just standing there, getting to new heights of happines by just seeing you. Kids running after you. Others dancing on the spot. Adults waiving their hands. Shouting something towards you. Often also asking for money or food or water. There is just too many of them. As soon as you stop a happy crowd will form around you. Trying and testing everything they can get their hands on. Pushing the buttons on your bike. Saving strange points into your GPS. Playing around with straps and zippers of your luggage. All at the same time. You want to check a lot before you start going again. Like me going many km with my lights on high beam. Who pushed that button again?
There are many good reasons to stop. People are certainly one reason to make every stop memorable. Food is another one. There is this typical sour dough pancake called Enschela which is just fantastic. Or freshly baked bread in the morning. And really really aromatic tea. Lots of good stuff for someone like me who is always hungry.
Tomorrow we will leave the Omo Valley and make our way further North towards Arba Minch. Where we hopefully find an ATM. And also my little Suzuki will need some fresh oil. To stay happy for many thousands of more km.

Late pics from Kenya
 

Finally we found an internet connection fast enough to upload some the old pics from Kenya. Here they are:


http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...86-equator.jpg
It's the first time for my little Suzuki and me to cross the equator on land.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p.../187-cargo.jpg
And we thought we carry a lot of stuff on our bikes...

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/188-rock.jpg
The road North of Isiolo is still beautiful tarmac and awesome scenery.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p.../189-camel.jpg
Camels. Just like that.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...b/190-road.jpg
Martin riding the deep car tracks between Isiolo and Marsabit. These sections are easy and real fun to ride.

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...91-village.jpg
Typical small village between Marsabit and Moyale.

South Ethiopia
 

Another good day has passed. We are currently discovering Ethiopia. And enjoying this country a lot.
After the Omo Valley we headed North to Arba Minch and then towards Shashemene via the little mountain village of Dorse. It is a really stunning landscape, particularly the mountains near Arba Minch. We made it up to the highest point my little Suzuki has ever been, just over the 3000m mark on the road. You can imagine the view from up there over the flat landscape with the Rift Valley lakes, really cool.
The roads we travelled on are mostly tarmac of decent quality. Other than the countries we travelled through previously there are no speed humps in Ethiopia. Which is something we both like heaps. I still remember the little 'hills' that some towns in Kenya put on the street to slow down traffic to less than walking speed.
The road up the mountains to Dorse and back down on the other side was not tarmac. But seriously one of the most scenic routes we've been riding for a long time. The road itself was really rocky, lots of loose stuff that makes you go sideways. But going slowly has the advantage that we could really enjoy the scenery. Other than in the Omo Valley people up here are not constantly shouting 'You you you!!!' or 'Give me one Birr'. No, up there they are greeting friendly when you go past. And that's it. Also, because it is so high and quite cold there, people wear blankets and hats made of wool. And these are so colourful, most with a striped pattern of all colours of the rainbow. With red and orange dominating. This follows through to their huts. Up there they are made of a mixture of straw and mud. And doors and window frames are painted in all colours.
Similar to the changing scenery we also noticed some stark differences in the people. And the way they interact with us. In the Omo Valley, a very touristy area with lots of 4WD vehicles full of visitors, local people often ask for money. When you are riding or when you are stopping. Children often shout it straight into our face 'YOU YOU YOU!' - the constant soundtrack of the Omo Valley. It sounds pretty rude when you first encounter it. But when you see the mostly smiling faces of the kids or when you take your time to stop and make some fun with them, they are really cool. And obviously do not mean to be rude. Stopping, pointing at them with your finger and shouting back 'you you you!!!' usually leads to a lot of laughter on both sides. That's the cool thing of having time. You can wait and go past the initial 'you you you' or the compulsary asking for money. Once you are past that and they finished their 'routine' you meet some genuinely friendly people.
Whenever we stop somewhere people literally start running towards us, kids and adults. And in no time we are surrounded by a huge crowd. A crowd that often stops the traffic on the road. Out of that crowd there are always a few people who speak English and who lead the conversation. If you ever feared public speaking, come to Ethiopia and you will find your perfect training ground. How to entertain a whole village? Just stand there and unpack your water bottle. That is seriously the most interesting thing they must have witnessed all week. You want to walk around your motorbike? Well, you can't. There is no room to walk. And the coolest part of your motorbike? Beyond doubt it's the mirrors. They are the big favorites for the girls in the crowd. Every time you keep going again you need to adjust the mirrors. And check your switches and buttons. Fortunately my little Suzuki has not too many buttons. So all I need to do is to switch off the high beam and the indicators. It can get a bit stressful but if you take it with humor you get over it. Just part of life here.
We also find if you are friendly to them they are friendly to you. Many people make a huge effort on the road to greet us when riding past. They run towards us waiving both hands. Some kids are dancing. Adults jumping up and down with thumps up. And we always greet back. Waiving hands or with thumps up or something similar. And this seems to give them a feeling of success because we can see them laughing and shaking each others hands and high-fiving each other in the rear mirror. Or they just jump up and down in joy as soon as we waive back. Often Martin rides some 100m ahead and kids start running towards him but are to slow. Standing on the road and disappointedly looking after Martin they change their expression completely when they realise that there is another one. And when I start greeting them they smile and laugh as if they've seen Santa Claus. No one has so far thrown any stone at us. As it seems such a common experience for many other travellers in Ethiopia. But maybe we are just lucky and will get into the stone throwing areas later.
Last night we camped very safely. Looking for a school to camp (they usually make great camping spots and can be found in every village) we were shown behind the school and camped in front of the Ethiopian Federal Police building. And these police guys made good company. They all spoke really good English, they let us camp there for free, they let us charge our electronics on their power plugs. And we sat and talked into the evening together with them and a teacher from the school.
Tonight we camp at Lake Shalla, a beautiful lake in the Abiata Shalla Lakes NP. As far as we can tell we are the only tourists in the NP. The guard at the front got really excited when he saw us and even left his office to come down the street for 200m (where we stopped to decide what to do) to greet us and tell us about the NP. In all his excitement he was happy to only charge us the NP entrance fee and not the fee for our bikes or for camping as it was written on the big signboard at the entrance. And also the compulsary guide to accompany us was not so compulsary any more if only we stay. And so we stayed. The NP features two lakes and a lot of barren dusty landscape full of Acacia trees. It gives you a bit of an outworldly feeling. You ride along the sandy tracks, through creeks of volcanic hot water. There is a lot of dust in the air. There is an Ostrich next to you, looking down on you. And there is these two volcanic lakes showing different colours. The one we camp on is a mix of reddish brown and orange water colour.
Other than in National Parks in Australia here there are people living. With their livestock. So it is not unusual to see cows and donkeys. Or huts and schools. Consequently there is not much 'wildlife' around, mostly birds. The spectacular ones like Ostriches. Or the big ones like Flamingoes and Pelicans. Or heaps and heaps of little ones, diving into the lake. Whole flocks of them. And the only people here are some local families. Covered in blankets and sheets, black faces watching us out of dusty layers of woven clothes. And white teeth smiling. People here in the NP don't talk much. They communicate in gestures. For example when pitching my tent two kids, maybe 8 and 10 years old silently helped me getting the pegs in, passed me some rocks to use as hammer. No words, just smiles. When parking my little Suzuki on the sandy terrain, before I could say or do anything they already brought a big flat rock to put underneath the sidestand. And as quickly as they came they disappeared again. So here we are, just Martin and me and our bikes on the shores of Lake Shalla. The setting sun paints the dusty sky in many shades of red and orange. Everything is shown in an awesome light. A few Pelicans paddle noislessly along. Really cool.
My little Suzuki has had quite a hard time again. To make her happy I treated her with some fresh golden oil in Arba Minch. But the terrain is quite demanding. After the 500km shock busting rough road in Kenya to Moyale here in Ethiopia it is the condition of the tarmac road. Our problem, I think, is that people are to poor to have cars or motorbikes. There is no traffic on the road. Only a few buses and trucks. And some big diesel 4WD with tourists inside. Consequently, if there is no traffic, the road is used for other purposes. I have never seen so many cows, donkeys, sheep or goats on the road before. No one seems to care and they hardly make room for you. We sometimes have to fight our way through a big herd of cows with big threatening horns. And worst of all, these guys keep dropping stuff. Which you unexpectedly keep hitting. So to no surprise the underside of both our brave bikes are literally covered in shit. It brakes my heart to see my little Suzuki in so much shit but what can you do?
The other tough thing is dust. If there is no demand on the road there is no maintenance either. So often there are long sections of road with the tarmac missing. Washed away or just broken away. And in there it's deep fine dust. And due to the constant stampede of cows the dust keeps forming long brown clouds, carried along the road. Even worsened by the occasional bus or truck. This dust penetrates everything. My camera, packed in it's case, wrapped in a waterproof bag and being inside my backpack still had dust on it. I don't even dare to look at my little Suzuki's air filter.
However, she is running really fine. The petrol you get here seems to be awesome. She is much quiter, seems to have more power and also consumes less fuel than usual. But petrol is still hard to come by. There is just no demand for it. We went past many service stations and all their pumps just had diesel written on it. And it's true, all vehicles we meet use diesel. We never heard of anyone having such a petrol problem in Ethiopia. So we hope it only affects the area qe are currently in. But here in Ethiopia, more than in any other country before, I am really really glad to have my 30l long range tank.

It seems like escaping the Congo does not end our security concerns. Just two days ago apparently six tourists got shot and killed in North Eastern Ethiopia. Many others got seriously injured, some kidnapped. We actually planned to visit that same spot in a few weeks time. It is an active volcano with a constantly boiling lava lake, something I have never seen before. Let's hope the situation is getting back in control quickly up there.

Awesome updates Marco!

First pics from Ethiopia
 

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Martin riding alongside the mountains in the Omo Valley

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Making our way through a bunch of cattle

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Mirinda and Coca Cola in Armaric alphabet

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The combination of the atmosphere saturated with dust and the setting sun presents the environment in some unreal light show.

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The rocky mountain road near Arba Minch

Ethiopia
 

Hello again from beautiful Ethiopia. We are still travelling in the Southwest of the country. And will reach the town of Nekempte tomorrow. And the capital Addis Ababa soon after.
If you would ask me right now what the first thing in my mind is when thinking about Ethiopia I would say it's dust. Dust seems to be a defining element for this country. It is omnipresent. Huge clouds of it are everywhere. It looks amazing when we ride up the hills and see this huge dustcloud down in the valley below. A brownish orange cloud which is set alight from the top by the sun. The sun never sets at the horizon, it always disappears way above it in the layer of dense dust. And for us, dust is everywhere. While typing this I am sitting at a beautiful camping spot next to a coffee plantation, probably 200m away from the main (dirt) road. Everytime a vehicle comes past, 3 minutes later a dustcloud penetrates the tent. It's just incredible.
And you should have seen my airfilter lately. My little Suzuki's airfilter is a foam element, soaked in some motoroil. I put an extra filter layer around it, like a sock completely covering the foam filter. That way it is easier to keep clean. And this sock had literally an almost one mm thick cake of dust, sticking together with soaked up motoroil, around it. I would bend it and whole pieces would brake up and fall down. All that must have happened since Nairobi where I last cleaned it. Maybe 10 days ago. Most of the distance travelled since then was in Ethiopia.

However, don't get me wrong. I am not complaining. Because Ethiopia is really beautiful. Riding through Ethiopia is like watching a movie in which identical scenes keep being repeated in various awesome combinations. These scenes that go past you would be: a road filled with donkeys. Or a road filled with cows. Or a road filles with donkeys and cows. Just standing on the road. Doing their donkey thing. Or cow thing. While we are fighting our way through, often only centimetres to spare. But these beasts do not move. Another typical scene would be smiling people in tattered clothes running towards the road frantically waiving both arms at us and shouting something in Amharic language. Another one a colourful ancient Isuzu bus standing on the road side and people loading or unloading numerous big rice bags full of things. Or another one a typical small town with the road completely clogged with blue 'Bajaj' Tuk Tuks and donkeys and cows and people. All going on both sides of the road and in all directions. Or some are not moving at all, just standing there, enjoying the scenery.
Or the most typical picture, of course, one of these ancient colourful Isuzu buses driving in front uf us. And we see nothing. Our whole world then is just a brown and orange haze of impenetrable dust. Until we finally can catch up and overtake.
This is Africa at it's best and I love it. Again, seeing the same little Suzuki I used for commuting just over six months ago surrounded by donkeys on a dusty road in Southern Ethiopia is something unreal. And the same little Suzuki will commute with me again to our office in North Sydney in some seven months from now. That will be just as unreal. No more donkeys then.

Ethiopia is pretty densely populated, particularly along the roads. So it is often impossible to find a good bush camping spot. Most of the time we retreat to camping in school compounds instead. This is really easy here. There is a security guard all night. So there is someone to ask for permission. Which is usually granted. And schools here feature a big grassy common area, perfect for camping. And the kids seem to love us as their early morning surprise when they get to school.

However, last night was different. Let me just tell you a story about the ups and downs and how quickly things can change.
In the afternoon we arrived at a town called Jima. Jima is famous (at least locally) as the town where coffee was 'discovered' and started it's success story around the world all the way to Starbucks centuries later. So we had a coffee in Jima in recognition of the importance of this place for the world. The other thing Jima is famous for is the old royal palace of the ruler Abar Jifah some 10km out of town on a hill. So we decided to visit that one too. Which proved a bit more difficult because nothing here is signposted and this palace is also not found on any map. So it took a while to find it. When we came close we met another group of tourists. And they recommended us to ask the security guard at the palace to camp there, it would be a 'really beautyful camping spot'. Perfect! We knew that by now the palace would be closed for the day but having the prospect of 'palace camping' we rode up there anyway. And found it. And the security guard. As soon as we stopped the bikes outside he started running and was never seen again that evening. No security guard, no access, no camping. So we asked people there, forming the typical crowd around us, for other places to camp. And achieved nothing. There was one unfriendly fellow in a suit who barked at us that we should go back to town and stay in a hotel. So we went back just a few metres and noticed a school on our left. Perfect! People around us assured us, it was no problem to camp at that school. Perfect again! All we needed to make sure was to ask the security guard of that school. We would find him in the nearby school administration compound. One guy out of that crowd really stood out in excellent English and stayed with us as our friendly translator.
Arriving at the administration compound we met the security guard. It was the unfriendly guy with the suit. And now also with a big gun hanging lazily over his shoulder. Not perfect! He barked at us again why we rich tourists don't stay in a hotel in town. And we need to call the headmaster of the school and ask for permission. He also barked the headmasters phone number at us. So we left the administration compound. And called the headmaster. Our translator doing his best to talk to him. But mobile phone networks in Ethiopia are not the same as in Australia. Even he could not understand the headmaster in this broken phone connection. It was now starting to get dark. And Martin and me, we gave up on that school. We rather try to find some other place before it was completely dark. We just did not seem to get anywhere by trying it any longer here. So we went down the hill towards the town again. And down the hill it went from there. When we reached the school administration compound the unfriendly suit guy jumped out of the shadow of a tree. And demanded us to stop, his gun pointed directly at Martin. So we stopped. But not fast enough. So angrily, with the gun still pointed at Martin he lectured us that 'Stop means Stop'. He also called Police and we would have to wait for them to arrive. This even shocked our friendly translator. Who bravely stayed with us to calm us down.
Some 15min later the local Police chief arrived. No uniform. But accompanied by another guy with a big gun. Also no uniform. But our translator assured us it was indeed the local Police chief. Who probably had to leave his Sunday evening beer behind to attend our matter. Not a happy man. Also, whenever our friendly translator tried to talk to the Police guys he was promptly pushed aside by the unfriendly suit guy who instead talked to the them, looking extraordinarily important. Soon the Police demanded to see our letter of introduction from our government. We of course did not have one. Because we did not need one. Big problem! Having a passport with a valid visa did not seem to count for him, our important looking Police chief did not even spare a look at our visa. He instead called the Federal Police to come here and take over the matter. Until their arrival we need to wait there. It was now very very dark. But our friendly translator stayed with us all the time, assuring us that everything was 'no problem'. Everything that happened only happened the way it did due to the 'uneducated village people'. Which, to us, was even more reason to concern. Because it were these 'uneducated village people' who had the guns here. However, the real village people stayed around to, reassuring us, being really really friendly. But powerless.
Much later another car arrived. That's a lot of action for this place on a Sunday night! It was a marked Police car, full with uniformed people. The unfriendly suit guy jumping straight to them. But this new Police rather talking to the crowd around us. Completely ignoring us. After 5 minutes of this I lost patience and went to them too. The new Policeman now asking me, in perfect English, what was going on. So I told him. That we just asked if we could camp at the school. And starting with that question everything else started to happen automatically. Culminating in his arrival. Which made him laugh. He was obviously not of the 'uneducated village' type. Also the unfriendly suit guy had by now disappeared. He was probably not taken serious enough to honour this scene with his ongoing presence. So our Federal Police friend quickly let us know that everything is fine, we are free to go. But we cannot camp at this school. At which time, instantly, the people of the village invited us to camp on their little grassy public village green. Or even to stay in one of their houses. Police had no arguments against that and went off.
So we stayed one late night camping on the village green. Had friendly company till late. Sharing stories. It ended up being a really cool night. This is Africa!

Pics from Southern Ethiopia
 

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Little Suzuki and donkey cart

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A crowd curiously watching us whenever we stop.

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The United States of Africa

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Creek near Lake Shalla

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Bushcamping

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Sunset over Lake Shalla

More pics
 

We have fantastic connection speed here in Nekempte. So let's show some more pictures:


http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...03-ostrich.jpg
Little Suzuki with an Ostrich

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Yes, this is actually the road!

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Salty beach near Lake Abiata

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Flamingoes in Lake Abiata

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View across a valley near Nekempte

Yikes! Happy that your little misadventure turned out well! I've never had a gun pointed at me but I'm sure it's not a very pleasant feeling...

Keep up the awesome reports and be safe at all times!

Sam

lovely stories - info on nekemte addis road
 

Hi Marco!

Really enojoy reading you stories. You`re a great writer! I havent been following your trip earlier, as I just logged on to search the Hubb for information on the addis nekemte road. Incredible to see that you just passed nekemte one of these days!

I`m planning to travel that stretch in a car 4th of february, and would love to get some detailed info, especially on bridges, or lack of them. I`m trying to plot the route on tracks4africa, but the map wount let me pass one of the rivers. probably just software issues, but would be nice to get updated info.

And again, your stories are really putting me in a good mood. I dd three months motorcycle journey around madagascar some years ago, and reading your posts brings back memories! If you are still in addis around the 2nd or 3rd of feb, maybe we could grab a cofee or something if time permits. would love to share some stories.

all the best, and safe travels!!

Johan

Nekempte to Addis Ababa
 

Hey Johann,

the road between Nekempte and Addis Ababa is going through, no worries. The 137km before Addis is brand new tarmac, no problem at all. Between Nekempte and there though the road is a huge construction site. River crossings are no problem, the road would be suitable for 2WD cars all the way. BUT it is rocky, really really dusty and slow going.

I am sure you will enjoy it as much as we did. And the hot shower in Addis even more.

Good luck,

Marco

Addis Ababa
 

Just a short one today. After a long dusty ride since Nekempte we are now in Addis Ababa. The big lively capital of Ethiopia.
To get here from Nekempte our map showed us a big fat red line, representing a sealed major road. Reality presented us with a 200km construction site. Featuring some of the worst sections of road we have done so far in Ethiopia. Rough, rocky and unbelievably dusty. Often the surface was covered in deep layers of superfine dust. The bikes just dived in and somehow floated across. With big clouds behind them. But when a bus just flies through this with some 80km/h the resulting dust clouds are just spectacular. There are no words for it. It's huge. It's like the perfect dust storm. For many hundred metres you see nothing. You ride blindly through an impenetrable curtain of orangeness.
However rough the road was though, our bikes did an excellent job through it. Here in Addis I just got the airfilter out again. Just two days after I cleaned it it was again completely covered in a thick brownish layer of hardened dust. It's good to have some hot water here. Apart from that the bikes are still happy.
Also, after half a year of daily use, the Pacsafe meshes around my side panniers start showing some signs of fatigue. Little bits of steel wire start to brake and then stick out as sharp little needles. One such worn area already ripped a few minor holes into the canvas of the panniers. So I decided to take the Pacsafes off. They are a real pain anyway if you need to quickly access stuff inside your panniers. After all these months in Africa I believe we can trust people enough and even without Pacsafe protection nothing will be stolen from the panniers. We shall see.

Addis Ababa is a surprisingly nice city for it's size. I guess again it is the fact that most people cannot afford a private car which keeps the traffic flowing nicely and the air relatively clean. The mix of old russian cars and east german trucks in perfect condition and also the many communist style concrete buildings can make you think you are some years back somewhere in eastern Europe. If it wasn't for the Ethiopian locals. Even in the city they are more than friendly, often just shouting a 'Welcome' towards us or simply wishing us a 'Good journey'.
We plan to stay here for a couple of days. Undusting ourselves. And deciding which countries to go to next. Depending on paperwork. Eritrea currently is really hard to travel through. Of what we heard you are very restricted, need hard to get travel permits for every little area outside the capital. And an exit permit if you want to leave the country. Which takes some time to get. And then our preferred exit point, the border to Sudan, is mostly closed. So we consider visiting Djibouti and instead of continuing to Eritrea we would come back to Ethiopia. Issue here is that we need a new Ethiopia visa. For our current visa we had so send our passports to our home countries to get it. It's expensive and we don't want to do that again. So if we are lucky, Ethiopia Immigration might change our single entry visa to a multiple entry visa and we will go to Djibouti. If they don't then our next country will be Sudan. We shall see.

Not to forget, today is our national holiday back in Australia. So to everyone who follows us from back home, have a Happy Australia Day!!!

http://www.mhes.com.au/foreverfree/p...bb/208-bus.jpg
Long distance public transport in Ethiopia - these Isuzu buses are the workhorse of it

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In Nekempte town centre

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Typical scene for rural Ethiopia.

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Dust is everywhere.

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Private transport is mostly done using these donkey carts or horse carts. Private vehicles are very rare in Ethiopia. Often the streets in towns are clogged with these donkey driven carts instead.

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One of the kids of a family where we camped next door to.

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Dog watching the cattle

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Similar to the Masai in Tanzania big herds of cattle are often only controlled by one or two kids.

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Farmer proudly showing off his cows

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Again, whenever we stop a big crowd forms instantly around us. Martin once counted more than a hundret people. They might be hard to see but our motorbikes are in the centre of all this.

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Look down at the camera!

Marvelous report Marco! Wonderful style you have. I look forward to following along after just now catching up on all your adventures. :thumbup1:

still in Ethiopia
 

Hi again from Ethiopia. Since the last update we have left Addis Ababa and are now back in counry Ethiopia. Heading North towards Gondar.
We spent three nights in Addis Ababa, enjoying city life and trying to organise things. Enjoying city life is easy. There is loads of good food available in Addis. Not just the typical Ingera (something like a sourdough pancake). In Addis there is also pizza, pasta, salads... There is fresh stuff like youghurt. And fruit. Bananas, mangoes, pawpaws, even cherries. And they sell fantastic fresh fruit juices. So yeah, we really enjoyed city life in Addis.
Organising things is not that easy though. I don't even know where to start here. But seemingly easy things are being made so so incredibly complicated. It's unbelievable.
I thought it might be a good idea to have some more cash US$ for when we go to Sudan. What I had in mind was an easy transaction - withdrawing Ethiopian currency from the ATM, take it to the bank and exchange it for US$.
Well, I soon learned that there is a procedure to follow. Some banks simply do not hand out hard currency to non citizens. Full stop. However, the 'Commercial Bank Of Ethiopia', which I understand is government owned opened up a chance if I would go to their head office. There, at the foreign exchange counter I was friendly told that I can only receive dollars if I have a visa and a flight ticket to a country which uses dollars. Well, I had a visa to Sudan but obviously no flight ticket. So motorbike riders will never get Dollars? The poor guy at the counter never had to deal with such an unusual case. So I was promptly sent behind the counters to talk to the supervisor. Within the office section of the bank. I could just walk in. The administration section of the head office of the Commercial Bank of Ethiopia, a huge room with many desks and people working hard on them. No one seemed to have a problem with me walking around there aimlessly trying to find some 'Abraham'. No security, no questions, nothing. Once I found Abraham he listened carefully to my story, asked to see my passport and as so often, said 'no problem but I have to ask my boss'. Of course the boss was not around right then. Might be back in one hour. Maybe. So one hour and I was back too. Walking straight into the bank's back rooms as if it was the normal thing to do. No one seemed to be unhappy with me walking around there. And now the big boss was there too. So I could file an 'application to exchange Ethiopian Birr to US$'. It looked like a form for a visa application. Complete with passport number, visa number, full address, purpose of journey etc. And a field for 'ticket number'. Which I left blank. Big boss filled in that I was travelling by motorbike. The completed application had now to be handed in to be approved, signed and stamped by someone important somewhere else. Which took a while. But it was approved! So happily I received my copy of the stamped form. To take it with me out to the counter. To be able to exchange my money. And soon I was the proud owner of some fresh US$ notes and a declaration to explain the origin of my foreign currency. Which I am supposed to keep till I leave Ethiopia. Just as a matter of comparison: changing Dollars to Birr takes 5 minutes. Changing Birr to Dollars 3 hours.
Patience is certainly a commodity of great use in Africa. Sometimes we can't help it but there is not enough patience in us for the procedures here. Just one more example: we wanted to visit Djibouti. Sounds easy. Visa for Djibouti is also easy to get, no problem. However, since Eritrea is closed for overland travellers from Djibouti we would need to come back to Ethiopia. If you remember, to get our Ethiopia visa we needed to send our passports to our home countries so that the local Ethiopian Embassy could stamp a visa in it. Which is expensive and a lot of trouble. Entering Djibouti would void our current single entry visa for Ethiopia and we would then need to send the passports to our home country again to receive a new visa to return to Ethiopia. We did not like that idea. Alternatively, since we were already in Addis Ababa, we could (maybe) change our single entry visa into a multiple entry visa. Not sure if that was possible, opinions about that vary a lot. But we could ask at Immigration. So we thought. Go there, ask them, change visa - all good. Maybe one hour? So we went there. Immigration in Addis Ababa is a compound of multiple huge buildings. And there's a million people in there. Once we made it through the metal detector at the main gate we could read a huge signboard telling you where to go for which purpose. We narrowed our choices down to an office for 'foreigner reception', a 'visa office' and a 'general information'. The 'visa office' sounds good, right? Arriving there we found a queue all along the aisle and back. Lots of patient people. We waited for 15 minutes, there was no movement whatsoever. We tried to jump the queue just to ask if this visa change is possible. Or if this would be the right office for our inquiry. But we got pushed out of the room again without reply.
Befor we wait here forever for nothing, let's ask at the 'foreigner reception'! Over there, in a queue of probably a hundred people there were no more than five foreigners. Instead Ethiopians extended their ID card or did all sorts of other domestic stuff. Why was it called 'Foreigner Reception' again? The queue was just huge. Should we really wait here for hours just to find out if or if not our visas can be changed? No thanks. So we started our walk across the compound to the 'General Information'. Which was a big hall in a separate building near the main entrance. In there again, a hundred people formed a big impenetrable crowd around the information desk. There was one (!) lady, all by herself, working on that desk. Well, that was one busy job. She however did not seem to be too stressed. We could see it would take hours before we would get anywhere near that desk. Just to ask for information? By now both, Martin and me, were beyond the limits of our patience. I admire people who can sit there in a chaos like this, sit there with patience beaming from their face. Sitting there watching a non-moving queue for hours. But for us, there and then, we just couldn't do it. We just couldn't. I though we are patient people. I guess we're not. We would have waited if we knew they would change our visa. But what a gamble! Waiting many hours just to ask and then waiting many more hours to get it done?
So, consequently, we will not be able to visit Djibouti. But at least we keep our wits together. And keep enjoying Ethiopia.
I am mow sitting in my tent, hidden behind a Eucalypt plantation some 500km north west of Addis Ababa. Close to a little dirt road just west of Lake Tana. There is clear sky with millions of stars above us. Martin is writing his diary in his tent while I am typing this report. It's cold, really cold here at night. Our elevation is close to 2500m and we have winter. From the distance the wind carries the howling of dogs and the voices of people across to us. From a village somewhere north of here. The half moon is illuminating the landscape outside the tent to a degree that contours of our surroundings remain visible. Mostly Eucalypt trees, stockpiles of straw and lots of rocks. Some cold black shadows of mountains in the distance.
Since Addis Ababa we mainly travelled on tarmac roads. In Addis I installed the cheap Vee Rubber knobbly rear tyre. I wonder for how long it will last. But right now I am very happy with it. The old Pirelli Scorpion was completely bold after the 18000 exciting km it carried the bike around. All the way from Perth to Addis Ababa.

We travelled through the Blue Nile Gorge, a big canyon carved by the Blue Nile, overshadowed by two big bridges. The Blue Nile will now be our companion for many km, we will meet it again and again. Until it flows together with the White Nile in Karthoum, forming the Nile river. Which will stay our companion for many thousand more km through Sudan and Egypt. As for now, it was the first meeting with any of the Niles. And we met an already impressive river.
The same Blue Nile Gorge was the scene of a horrific accident less than a week ago. An overland bus overshot one of the many bents down towards the gorge. And rolled down the steep embankment. Until a tree stopped it in it's path many meters below the road where it caught fire. 42 people died here. Less than a week ago. The burnt out wreckage was still there. As was the gap in the concrete barrier. Not far from the wreck in a clearing next to the road we found dozens of used rubber gloves and wrappings for emergency medication on the ground. A very sobering sight.

The landscape here appears much dryer than down in Etiopia's south. Everything now shines with a golden touch, a reflection from the neverending fields of cut straw. During the day it gets very hot. It was probably that heat which has molten the tarmac. The road is filled with deep ruts, molten into the bitumen. Often there are subsidences, the tarmac not broken but continuing smoothly into a hole. Or forming wave patterns. In many sections the white centre line forms a snakeline, weirdly offsetting to the left and to the right.

People here look among fhe poorest people we have met anywhere on this journey. Clothes are dirty and ripped. Most walk barefeet, dusty black feet on the hot rocky ground. People are very thin, skin and bones really. They are of a different kind up here in Amhara region. Still greeting us friendly along the roadside, they no longer crowd us or our bikes when we stop. Nor did they come to our tents tonight or last night. Just watching us from the distance for a while and then continueing their things.

Similar to other areas in Ethiopia people stick closely together. We often see men holding hands. Or walking along with their hands on each others shoulder. There's always groups of people. Groups of men, groups of women. And groups lf kids. Who greet us the loudest.
For us, the petrol problem has re-occured since leaving Addis Ababa. In average only one out of ten petrol stations has any petrol for sale. At the moment we survive thanks to my big long range tank and Martin's two 10 litre jerry cans. But we don't know what the situation further North will be like, even further away from the capital. We heard even on the Sudan side of the border there will be no petrol for some hundred km. A southbound overlander told us that the closest petrol stations to either side of the border who sell petrol are still some 750km away from each other. We might have a real problem there and might need to fill some Coke bottles to take with us.

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Snapshot from Addis Ababa

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St George's church in Addis Ababa

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My freshly installed cheap VeeRubber tyre. How long might it last for? I will get a proper rear tyre in around two weeks. The VeeRubber should hopefully make it that long.

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Our first glimpse at the Blue Nile

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The road West of Lake Tana is pretty rocky.

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We camped here in the backyard of a local Police station for one night. The Police building is made of timber, mud and dried cow droppings. Helped with some corrugated iron sheets.

On the road to Axum - Part 1
 

Another 'Hello' from Ethiopia. I am sitting here by myself just outside my tent halfway between Gondar and Axum in Ethiopia's North. The moon reached it's three quaters full stage and is brightly illuminating the landscape around me. Down South the grey walls of the mighty Simian Mountains are visible as a dark shade in the moonlight. Somewhere up there, looking down, is Martin.
Two day ago we left Gondar, one of the old capitals of an ancient Ethiopian empire. Back then, in the 15th century, it was emperor Fasilada who transformed Gondor into a beautiful wealthy city, an envy of it's time. With mighty castles, beautiful churches, and big baths. Most of it is still visible today, some in ruins, others still in use. For it's contribution to the history of Ethopia Gondar even achieved Unesco World Heritage listing. We spent three days there, exploring all the treasures and enjoying city life once more.
Unfortunately Martin's motorbike is in some trouble. Has been for some time but it is now escalating. The old typical problem with Africa Twin bikes struck him when his petrol pump stopped working. Well, that happened some weeks back. Back then he was still able to get 300km out of a tank by force of gravity alone, without petrol pump. For some reason the range decreased dramatically over time though and is now only less then 200km, sometimes the bike already stops after just over 100km. There is still a lot more petrol in the tank but gravity alone is not enough make it flow to the carburator. Combined with the problems in sourcing petrol in Ethiopia this is not good. For our next stage in this trip, the 'historic circuit' from Gondar to the Simian Mountains, Axum and Lalibela, our route leads us through very remote areas with reputedly bad roads and an uncertain fuel situation. So Martin better left his bike in Gondar for the time being and is travelling by bus. Whereas I don't like buses (I mean old dirty slow overcrowded Isuzus without aircon for days on end) and keep travelling with my little Suzuki. Along the way we will catch up every now and then until we complete our circuit back in Gondar. Currently there is a parcel somewhere on it's way to us from Germany. Containing the new fuel pump, some fuel hose and other spare parts for the Honda. And a new front tyre for Martin and a new rear tyre for me. Until the parcel's arrival I will travel on my cheap Thai made Vee Rubber tyre. Which, I must admit, is surprisingly good. Particularly for the gravel and dust roads around here. My little Suzuki is handling that stuff perfectly thanks to the new tyre. It's a big improvement from my worn out to boldness old Pirelli tyre. You don't read too many positive opionions in the HUBB concerning Vee Rubber tyres. But I really can't complain.

So today was my second day riding alone. I met Martin yesterday in Debark and started from there towards Axum this morning. I was also able to source three water bottles full of dirty petrol in Debark. The only petrol available after engaging the whole town to find some for me. Leaving it for one night made most of the flakes settle and the water content accumulate at the bottom so that I had some four litres of clean good petrol to use this morning. It should take me beyond Axum and I hope somewhere along the way there would be more petrol to buy. I really hope. Petrol is currently my headache number one.
The road North of Debark today was stunning. I can honestly say it was the most scenic road I ever took my little Suzuki on. Just past Debark the road descends down from the mountains. Offering views into a huge valley of the Simian Mountain range. The world here shows all shades of brown, it is incredibly dry and apart from some scattered green Acacia trees you see only golden brown grass on dark brown soil. For the rest of the day the road continued along the edge of the mighty Simians, meandering down into the valley and up again along a cliff into of the mountains. You don't know where to look first. The Simian Mountains are basically a plateau at an elevation of around 3500 - 4500m. From the outside they appear as a huge wall of steep grey rock. When they road traverses a valley it's elevation is only around 1500m. At the edge of the Simians it looks like some little mountains did brake away. There is tall pinacles and big dome shaped mountains rising high from the valley floor. And there is one little gravel road winding it's way through this. And one little Suzuki with it's lone rider disappearing in the shear vastness of the landscape. Going up into a fresh cold breeze and going down again into a dry and hot oven. There's eagles and vultures circling above, monkeys playing on the road. There is waterfalls right next to the road. Where I could clean the dust off my visor. I really loved riding this road, absolutely loved it. Every metre of it. Even if it was slow going. It's rocky, dusty and very steep. Steep in inclines and steep in corners. But slowly and steadily my little Suzuki and me, we travelled along, climbed up, rolled down and held our breath with every new vista around the corner. Neverending smiles inside my dusty helmet.
Part of the road are still construction site. And in these we travelled litterally within the construction area. Around the working bulldozers. In between the trucks. And beside the excavators digging up dirt into the tray of a waiting truck. Some parts of this are truly hair rasing. E.g. if a bulldozer is halfway through bulldozing an area he will simply revers out and make room for you to pass. But you need to pass beyond his halfway-through mark and then climb a wall of rock to continue along soft dirt till, some fifty metres on, the road resumes. This is a particularly cool adventures when the soft ground has been soaked in water to avoid dust. But my little Suzuki made it through all this, slowly but steadily as usual. I am very happy to have an off-road capable bike like her in these circumstances. It's an awesome bike.
Dust remains our companion in Ethiopia. It is everywhere. It stopped accumulating on the bike because there is no room for more dust. Fortunately along this route there is not much traffic so the dense dust clouds from buses and trucks are not too numerous. For the many 180 degree corners though I kept catching my own dust clouds. And when these clouds hit you they do it properly. I just cleaned my airfilter sock again this evening, fully covered in thick brown dirt. And this is only half way to Axum. And the map shows the dust road continuing many more km beyond Axum.
For the beauty of the road today I made only 100km. Took me all day. Because I took a million pictures. It's hard not to. And again, when I stopped I met friendly people and time just flew by. At one stop a group of people sitting on the ground waived to me and pointed into their big metal cups. So I curiously turned around to see what they had in there. Well, they called it beer. But I would not call it so. It was a mustard coloured liquid which profusely smelled like vinegar. And tasted like vinegar mixed with alcohol. And they drank it out of half litre cups. In order to not ride after drinking and not to upset my poor empty stomach with stuff like this I better stayed away from it and had a Pepsi instead. But I must have been sitting there for over an hour, they played Etbiopian music for me from their little chinese mobile phones speakers, one guy even danced, we shared some tomatoes with chilli and tried to communicate without speaking each others language. A nice and welcome break during the mid day heat.
For camping I found a pretty good spot as well. I turned into a small road signposted as a Farmers Cooperative. It turned a bit bumpy and crossed a small river but after a while I found a building with some people working in the green corn fields around it. They agreed to me camping there for one night. It is really cool because here is a river to wash the dust off myself. There is a view towards the big rock walls of the Simian Mountains. And there is good company. It is almost embarassing how friendly these people are. Most went home after finishing their field work for the day. But some stayed. And they insist on sleeping here, in the field, with me. So I will sleep in my tent and three others promised to return after dinner to sleep in the open on the dirt around my tent. Even though they have a home with a bed, a wife and children. Just to keep me company. My repeated assurances that it was not necessary did not help. So I will see if they really return. Turning them back would be rude and not polite, so what can I do? I still feel bad though.

On the road to Axum - Part 2
 

Another day, another town. I am now in Shire (say 'Sheere'), a town that was previously known as Inda Silase. It is quite big and offers a lot of comfort for dusty travellers like me. First of all, and most importantly, the service station sells petrol! I took no chances and immediately filled up the tank of my little Suzuki until it overflowed. Also, there is a tar road! And this will continue almost all the way to Lalibela, 750km south of here. My map still shows the dusty gravel road continuing some 200km further. Which now means no more dust! To celebrate these two happy events I booked into a cheap hotel (AU$ 2.80) overlooking my new favourite OilLibya petrol station (to make sure it was not just a dream). And also let the hotel wash all my clothes. Which returned probably a kg lighter for having all their dust removed. Happy times!
From where I camped last night it was only a 85km ride along a much better quality dirt road. The construction along this section was much more advanced. So I found a perfectly smooth and nicely graded and compacted gravel surface, ready to have the tarmac put on it.
Last night, by the way, the three guys came back as promised. And slept next to my tent. Unbelievable. And people here get up so early! Just before sunset, some 6:30am they already showed signs of anxiety why I was still sleeping. So I had no chance but getting up too. But still, it was nice. One of my new friends there gave me a long tour around the irrigation area. It is quite a smart system, built by UN people three years back. Basically some water is diverted out of a river along a half meter wide concrete channel. Which ends up back in the river maybe 2km further. In it's side wall the concrete channel has some openings every few hundred metres which can be opened and closed. If they are open, some water will flow out and into little dug out channels in the soil. Where it feeds a whole network of small channels within the corn or tomato or onion fields. Where exactly the water goes is controlled by people blocking these little dirt channels with little mounds of soil. Simple but very effective. At the end of the tour I was even given a big paw paw to take with me and eat later!

Now, that I am here in Shire I will probably stay for a day or two and then continue to Axum, another ancient World Heritage listed former capital of a powerful Ethiopian empire. I am travelling the 'Historic Circuit' after all, so bring on the ruins!

On the road to Axum - pics
 

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Gondar, Royal Enclosure

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This little Suzuki did an awesome job up and down the rough serpentine road north of Debark

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It easily one of the most scenic routes you can ride your motorcycle along!

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The scale of the landscape is such that you feel really small. Everything is drenched in shades of brown. Partly by the light reflecting from the dry vegetation, partly by the layer of dust covering everything.

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Rock domes at the edge of the Simian Mountains and small rivers down in the valleys provide a spectacular sight.

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The UN sponsored irrigation project where I could camp for one night.

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Just imagine the sense of freedom you have when you ride your favourite motorbike along the edge of the world. The wind at this elevation is cold which gives you goose bumps, yet the sun burns your skin. The same cold wind carries the dust and the smell of dry grass to you. Every bit of you is covered in dry dust. You hear your bike's engine as you slowly move along the dusty road while this sound combines with the sound of crickets and some donkeys and cows in the distance. Every now and then you meet people, covered in dusty blankets for warmth walking along the road, raising their hand and bowing their head to greet you. You have this for days. The only bike rider in an endless landscape. You're happy. You feel free!

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Old remnants of war on the road side. I guess these parts of a tank have been resting here since the Eritrea - Ethiopia war in the nineties

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The road meandering up and down. What you can't see is the rocky surface of the road or the sometimes 100mm deep dust layer hiding the sharp rocks underneath.

The first six months of this trip are now completed. Which means we are beyond the half way mark. I thought it's time for a little half way statistic:

Countries travelled: 11

Km since leaving Sydney: 24000

Flat tyres: 1 (near Mpika, Zambia)

number of times of having the bike dropped: stopped counting long time ago

Number of oil changes: 4 (Perth, Kasane, Mwanza and Arba Minch)

Bike parts replaced: chain, sprockets, tyres, brake pads and spark plugs in Perth before leaving Australia at 5000km
left mirror and speedo light bulb after it arrived damaged in South Africa after the flight at 5000km
fuel hose in Nairobi (started to rip open alongs it's seam) at 19800km
rear tyre in Addis Ababa at 23000km
That's all!

Highest Elevation: 3500m (Dorse, Ethiopia)

Lowest elevation: sea level (Indian Ocean beaches in Western Australia, Mocambique and Tanzania)

Number of serious river crossings: 1 (Luangwa River, Zambia)

Visited capital cities: 8 (Pretoria, Mbabane, Maputo, Lusaka, Dar Es Salaam, Kigali, Nairobi and Addis Ababa)

Countries having their National holidays during our visit: 5 (Swaziland, Mocambique, Botswana, Tanzania, Ethiopia)

Photos taken: 1430


And some personal stats:

Most favorite country: Zambia

Most favourite city: Mwanza, Tanzania

Most impressive natural sight: Serengeti NP, Tanzania

Most impressive man made sight: Gikongoro Genocide Memorial, Rwanda

Most scenic road: between Debark and Maitsebri, Ethiopia

Favourite local food: chips mayai, Tanzania (omelette of chips, eggs and veggies)

Least favourite local food: some local fruit similar to custard apple, never remembered the name, giving me the worst diarreah on this trip, Ethiopia

Top three things I miss from home: 1. friends and
family
2. clean toilets
3. clean drinkable tap water

Thanks again everyone for following our adventure for this long! Your interest keeps us going even further!

Finaly cought up with you in real time.
 

Just wanted to say how much I have enjoyed travling with you. You have done a wonderful job of putting me in the pillion seat.:thumbup1: By the way this is the first time I have sent a reply so if it comes across as awkword please forgive.:scooter:

Wow bbarr, thank you! I feel very honored for being the receipient of your first ever HUBB post! Cheers mate!

Axum, Ethopia
 

My last day in Shire (or Inda Silase, still unsure about that town's real name) turned out to be a pretty cool day. In a surprising turn of events I run into two fellow Aussies who were also stuck there for a day, waiting for their bus South. Lea and Andrew from Melbourne principally travel by bicycle, however, the road between Gondar and Axum is steep and rough enough for them to decide to catch a bus instead. All three of us having nothing really to do in Shire we spent a great day together having juice and coffee and dinner. The first Aussies on this trip since Zambia! It's been nice hearing the homely accent again.

Continuing the 60km to Axum I had to remind myself how awesome everything around me actually is. It's weird, after all those months in Africa you get so used to things. Really cool things. Like the line of people in traditional dress you're passing along the road. Or how you switch down to first gear to negotiate your way through a group of donkeys and cows on the road. How you park your bike next to a Camel at the petrol station. Or how you overtake an ancient colourful Isuzu bus with local music blasting from a speaker outside. Or how you compete for road space with the blue Bajaj Tuktuks in towns. Pretty cool feeling to be right in there with my little Suzuki.

The road to Axum has taken me finally to my destination, I am now comfortably camping at a nice hotel in the old royal city. And Axum is awesome. Not at first sight. To be honest, I passed through without even noticing I was there. 15km later I asked someone and promptly had to turn back. Back in the 1st century AD Axum was the centre of the universe for northern Africa, the mighty capital of a huge empire ranging from Egypt to the Middle East and covering much of modern day Ethiopia, Sudan, Eritrea, Somalia and bits of the Arabian peninsula. Apparently a flourishing rich city full of palaces and grandeur.
Today it is a small town, almost forgotten by the world. Although for orthodox Ethiopians Axum still is the centre of their world. Or better the 'Mariamtsion', a huge church which is said to house the Arc of the Covenant. For non-historians like me: the Arc of the Covenant is the box which contains the original stones which Moses received on Sinai Mountain inscribed with the ten commandments. Not surprisingly there is a constant pilgrimage going to this church, people from all over Ethiopia come here to visit and to buy their 'icons' for home. These 'icons' are really cool little things. Cheap ones are made of timber, expensive ones of brass or even silver and gold. They are small, like a matchbox or a packet of tissues. Some are shaped like a cross, some like a book and some like the legendary 'Arc of the Covenant'. What they have in common is, that they are all handmade in a monastery near Axum (so I was told). And all have one or two little 'doors' behind which colourful scenes of the orthodox belief are painted. Hand painted. Each one is unique. They sell for between AU$ 5 and 25. Like a little antique shrine to take home with you.
Whatever the legend says, no one actually knows if the Arc of the Covenant really is in Axum. The church does not let anyone near that shrine. Apparently if you come to close you go up in flames.

However, the whole pilgrimage story pushes the grand history of Axum in a far corner where it is easily forgotten. There are fields of obelisks, there are tombs to rival the ones of the Valley of the Kings in Egypt. Old palaces in ruins. But no one there. In most of the sites I was one of only a handful of visitors or completely by myself. Which makes the whole thing really awesome. Axum is Indiana Jones Central.
My personal favorite is the tomb of King Kaleb, some 2km outside the city. It's actually two tombs, maybe even more. No one bothered to check yet. On arrival I showed my ticket to the guard, an old man who spoke next to no English. Since I was the only visitor he accompanied me to show me the highlights. Tombs underground are pretty dark so he brought a candle as well. To explore an ancient tomb by candlelight is pretty special. I brought my torch but left it in my pack, candlelight has so much more flair. Like in the Indiana Jones movies my grand-dad-guard walked in front, the candlelight flickering. He held it close to a wall when there was something to see, an hieroglyphic inscription or a little cross. Only visible with the candle right next to the wall. There are pictures of animals hewn in stone. Or arrows pointing down. Pitch black around us. Only the little candle light and the white teeth of my volunteer guide visible in the darkness. When there was an old ancient arrow pointing down my guide hammered against the floor with a little rock. And it sounded hollow. What's underneath? No one knows. Again no one bothered to check yet. But it makes you feel like an explorer. You start checking the walls for inscriptions and actually find some. You knock along the walls with a rock in search of a secret doorway. In Axum you can. Nothing is shielded from you, no barriers, no ladders, no walkways. It's all really exciting. You climb and crawl and discover things along the way in the flickering light of a candle. As I've said, Indiana Jones Central.
On a completely different site, a km or so away, there was the probably most significant bit of stone for Ethiopian history. A big rock, maybe 2m high and 1m wide, inscribed with a story of victory of the old Aksumite Emperor. The cool thing is, this story is inscribed in Sabean language, in Greek and in the ancient Aksumite language. So with the help of this stone the old Aksumite language could be put up next to the known Greek language and be decoded. Significant as this stone might be, it is housed in a tiny ugly shed with corrugated iron roof, there is no signpost anywhere around this shed, nothing that even remotely makes you aware that you are at an historic site. In contrary, once you are lucky enough to identify that this is the shed you want, you need to walk around and find the guard to unlock it for you.
That's the thing that I don't get in Axum. Historic monuments which would be regarded as being sensational in the western world seem to be completely forgotten here in Ethiopia. Archeologists know there are numerous tombs underneath a field of obelisks, tombs of rulers or other wealthy Aksumites, probably unopened for two millenia and full of treasures. But no one checks them out. Outside the fenced obelisk fields you find obelisks everywhere, some standing, some leaning, some broken on the ground. Thousands of years old. Now on some private farmland with cows grazing around them. The more spectacular sites are almost impossible to find. Nothing is signposted. And the official map of the Tourist Information shows some of them in completely the wrong location. And does not show any street names anyway, so it's just useless. On a second thought - streets have actually no names here. Consequently you often rely on little street kids to show you around. Or an expensive tour guide.
Apart from the ancient monuments modern Axum is a very pleasant town. People are friendly (often shouting a 'Welcome to Axum' across the street). There are many kids who try to sell you little Amethyst rocks or icons but they are really playful and make your walk between the monuments very entertaining. Most tourists drive from site to site. So someone like me, who is walking, assures the full undivided attention of these kids. I don't know why but I really enjoyed walking with them crowding around me, they are unbelievably inventive why I would urgently need a $1 Amethyst right now. We ended up all laughing and they did not seem to mind me not buying anything.

Axum is pleasant enough to hang around for a while. So I guess I'll wait here for Martin to finish his Simian Mountains trekking and to get here by bus. There is still no news about the parcel with Martin's new fuel pump. We just hope it will get to Ethiopia soon.
Martin will continue by bus till then and me with my little Suzuki. After Axum I plan to see the Tigray Rock Churches, churches hewn into rocks not dissimilar to their famous counterparts in Lalibela. Just older. And much more low key. They are in pretty remote locations and will be hard to find. Something like stopping at the right place along the road and then go bushbashing for some km. Again, the map of the Tourist Information is pretty useless, showing neither any distances or names on it. So it's gonna be a lucky exploration again!

Axum pics
 

Axum is an old place and the main reason for visiting the town is to see it's ancient monuments. So we have to go through a couple of pics with old stuff.

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An area of obelisks in Axum. Each obelisk typically stands for a tomb underneath. Hardly any of those tombs have been explored yet.

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The entrance of one of the tombs you can visit.

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The famous stone with inscriptions in Sabean, Greek and Aksumite language. It's hidden in a tiny shack without any signposting. If you find the guy with the key to the shack you can visit the stone.

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The 'Lioness of Gobedra'. This ancient picture of a lion is hidden in a field of big rocks halfway up a mountain. There is no chance you find it without any help. I found this friendly guy who led me there in return for a Coca Cola and a paper copy of this picture.

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The 'Palace of the Queen of Sheba'. All that is known about these ruins is that they have no connection to the Queen of Sheba.

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No joke, I was surprised how many people here know about Australia. When I ask them where they know all these bizarre things from, they state that movie. $0.45 from the local DVD store.

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Camels are just part of the streetscape in Axum.

Fantastic stories, love reading them :thumbup1:. Have lots of fun, take care and keep your 'Little Suzuki' rolling :scooter:! Maybe one day I'll see you in Germany jeiger. I'm from Holland.

Tigrai, Ethiopia
 

Sometimes you get more than you bargained for. And friendliness can change your day. So it happened to me today.

Currently I am sitting in a cheap hotel in Wukro. AU$1.80 per night in a clean room with electricity is not too bad, is it? The area I am travelling in at the moment is in Tigray Region in North-Eastern Ethiopia. It is an area full of churches hewn deep into the rocks. These churches are old, almost as old as Christianity in Ethiopia. According to unofficial counts there are 140 churches around here. The most fascinating feature for most is their locations.
The Tigray area is basically a dry desert plateau of 2000m elevation above sea level. Rising out of this plateau are huge red sandstone rocks in their elevation beyond 3000m. It is not a mountain range, just some big singular high peaks. And it is there where almost 2000 years ago keen monks or even saints chiselled churches into the sand stone rock. In the most remote locations high above the plateau or often right on top of the mountains. Even today it is not easy to visit some of these churches. They are masterfully camouflaged into the rock, often all you see is a door on the rockface. Completely invisible from the ground. They are also very hard to find. Far away from any road, hardly ever signposted. Once you found the best stopping location on the road the real adventure begins. Getting to the church involves long walks through rough terrain, sometimes climbs up onto the cliff face or even someone to pull you up on a rope.
While Martin is still travelling by bus (we're still waiting for his new fuel pump to arrive) I used the freedom of having my motorcycle to visit a few of these remote churches during the past few days. Locations like the Debre Damo monastery, a big monastery of 150 monks living up on a mountain top. The only access being an old weathered leather rope. Or Maryam Biznan, one of the rock hewn churches far from any civilisation. Maryam Biznan is a 23km ride from Hawzien, the nearest town. A ride along a lonely sandy road. And then a more than one hour climb up a mountain, traversing a tunnel through a rock wall up on the mountain top and more climbing on the other side. The scenery here is just breathtaking. The whole scale of the landscape is massive. A flat plateau with red mountains sticking out of it. From up there you can see the mountains around Axum and Adwa, more than 100km away. And everything in between. What's best is that I usually book into some cheap hotel before going to those churches. And leave all my luggage there, all but my small backpack for camera and water. So I can ride these awesome lonely dirtroads without luggage. That is so much fun! Even my old enemy sand is now heaps cool to ride through. Incredible what a difference in the fun factor it makes to have no luggage! I just love riding here, every minute of it. And my little Suzuki seems to enjoy this part of Ethiopia just as much. The two of us. Searching an endless landscape for tiny churches hidden up in the mountains.

However, today was my most remarkable day in this area. As so often if you have time for people it will change the course of the day.
I was to visit the Abuna Yemata church today, a church described as one of the hardest to get to and one to be located in the most impressive setting. It is pretty expensive to get there, it's usually a 100Birr entrance fee plus a 250Birr for a compulsory guide plus tips for the priest and the guy to watch your vehicle etc, much more money than I was prepared to pay. My strategy in these cases is to overwhelm the others with friendlyness and play the poor guy at the same time. Playing the poor guy is not even that hard. Because after all this travelling without having any job the money drains away much too easily. So when people ask me for ridiculous amounts of money I tell them exactly this story. That I am travelling for one year without earning anything. And I am here to learn about THEIR country. Ethiopians are very proud of their country and when you show interest in them and their place they really appreciate it. And it changes the mood very quickly into them trying to help you to get the most out of your visit without having to pay high tourist prices. Win-win for all.
So this morning I just showed up at the end of the road to climb up Abuna Yemata. Right there a couple of people already waiting, happy to see a tourist. And offering me to guide me up to the church. Me telling the usual (true) story and showing the empty pockets of my dusty pants had an unexpected effect. These guides no longer asked for money but explained me the way. One guy tasked to guard my little Suzuki with all the luggage said he would be happy with whatever amount I would be happy to give him. So I left my little Suzuki there and started making my way up. One of the guides walking with me saying he is happy to come with me. 'Money no problem'. Just like that. And I was happy to have some company too, why not.
Shortly after we run into the priest of the church. Usually you give him a 100Birr tip and he goes with you to unlock the church. The priest looked pretty old. Later I learned he was only 55. Orthodox priests enjoy a lot of respect from everyone here. My guide kissing his golden cross and his hand and bowing down for him many times. The priest apologised that he could not come with us today because he had a strong headache. He did not speak English but in his gestures he was a very friendly guy, calm and concious of his status in the society. At this stage part 2 of my strategy came into effect, 'overwhelm them with friendliness'. After respectfully greeting him I offered to give him some painkillers. After completing more than half of my journey I still have not used any of my Panadols. So I have heaps in my panniers. And these are incredibly hard to come by here in rural Ethiopia. I unpacked my old cup and filled it with fresh water for him to flush down the big tablets. So needless to say that the priest was heaps happy, thanking me many times and promptly halving the money to receive the key for the church. Instead of him the dean would climb up with us. So the three of us, the guide, the dean and me made our way up. And what a path it was. One hour to reach the church from where my little Suzuki was happily parked in the shade. One section, probably 10-20m high involved climbing up a perpendicular cliff face. With a 200m drop underneath. All there was where tiny little recesses to put your toes or fingers in. No shoes here. So all three of us climbed up there barefeet to maximise control. If you ever needed an adrenalin rush, hanging on your toes and fingers above a 200m void is a sure way to get one. No ropes, no security. All I was assured of was 'god's blessing'. Maybe I am exaggerating here but I am not a climber. Never was one. Never interested in being one. And this was way out of my depth and easily the scariest thing I've done in Ethiopia so far. And at this stage I surely was very happy for my two helpers guiding me up that cliff wall. They patiently showed me where to put my toes and fingers. I must say just me, by myself, I would not have made it. But determination brings you further. Now I WANTED to see this church. Hanging on that rock wall I really wanted to. And slowly but steadily we achieved new hights. Up there, on a tiny V-shaped section was the centre of this area's orthodox world. First we came past a cave full with bones. Bones of the priests who devoted their life to this church many centuries before we could climb up there. Since the fourth century AD. Some white sun bleached skulls curiously watching us from their cave. The rock walls up here had many writings and orthodox crosses chiselled in. There was another cave used as a baptising chamber (How the hell do they get these babies up here?). And then there was the main church. Just a door in the rock wall which noisily swung open. It opened a large man made cave to us. Three rockpillars left standing to support the remaining 200m of rock above the ceiling. The floor was covered with straw mats. And the walls were covered with incredibly colourful paintings. These paintings were done in the fifteenth century. But they still look as if they've been done last week. An amazing display of colours showing saints and other important persons linked to the long history of Abuna Yemata. The atmosphere in there was truly intense. My guide explained every bit of painting. Slowly and calmly and obviously with a lot of respect. This is the place where, for centuries until now, the village would meet to pray. The priest, hidden behind a curtain of colourful cotton would preach in the ancient language of Geez. In front of the curtain the dean would translate to the village people. In the dim light of a church hewn deep inside the rock. Watched over by the colourful faces of all saints of importance, looking down from the ceiling or the walls. A procedure unchanged for centuries.
Back then churches were built far away from villages on purpose. High up in the mountains to make the journey to them as tiring as possible. Because when you arrive there after a long hard journey your mind would be clean and free for focussing on religious matters. Also these remote locations protect from any disturbance. In fact, deep inside the rock of Abuna Yemata it was absolutely silent. The rock shielded us from all outside sounds. And every word we spoke inside could be spoken quitely and calmly and was distributed through the entire church by the echoing from the rockwalls. An atmosphere of calmness I rarely felt anywhere else. Truly a place to relax.
Every Sunday midnight (!!!) and on many other occasions people from the surrounding villages come up here to attend a three hour service. Old people and young people. One apparently 85 years old. Decades of weekly climbs kept him fit enough to continue to climb up there in the dark midnight hours in his high age. The devotion of these people to their church is really incredible. But it is also this belief, this church, which keeps the village together. As I would soon learn. The village of around 50 people sticks together like one family.
During our climb up and the even scarier climb down I could really well connect to my guide. So once back at my little Suzuki he was happy with the little money I could afford to give him and even invited me to his place to eat lunch together.
Let me tell you a little side story here. In orthodox tradition, if you marry, you celebrate for 4 months and 2 weeks. There is usually a large room in the house of the husband's parents reserved for this. During these 4 months and 2 weeks the husband and wife together with the five best friends of the husband will live together in that room. Other friends and family will occasionally drop by for some slice of this 'celebration'. 'Celebration' here means eating together, drinking together and playing music and dancing and also playing traditional games together.
Well, destiny had it that my guide was one of those five best friends of one newly wed husband. So he did not live in his home but in a 'celebration room' some three km away. Unable to take passengers and luggage on the bike we parked my little Suzuki safely at someone's house near the church and walked through the harvested millet fields to his temporary 'home'. A long walk through a sunburnt countryside. Once there the celebrants started celebrating us. Ethiopians are very hospitable. And having a guest from far far away is seen as a big honour. Which naturally made me feel a little bit awkward. When they started thanking me for 'sacrificing my time to visit' them I was really puzzled because it was actually me feeling thankful for being invited to their home. There were many people. Also the priest, now free from headache and smiling. What followed were many hours of celebrating together. The traditional way. Someone always explained the tradition to me and asked if I was okay with it. Who am I to decide anyway? Of course I was okay by default. So we ate Injera together. The traditional way. Using our fingers to feed each other Injera into their mouth. Strange feeling to feed the beautiful bride next to me with my hands. Then we played games. Games involving four small carved timber sticks and hitting each other with them. Or card games. We played the drum. And we danced around a timber pole. Dancing around a timber pole to the beats of a goat skin drum really hypes you up and feels good. My skills in traditional Ethiopian dance (lots of shaking your shoulders to very repetative music) are, quite frankly, not so awesome. But they provided good entertainment for sure. So we really had a fun time. And I learned a lot, really a lot, about Ethiopia in these hours. Feeling incredibly grateful for this opportunity I couldn't believe the guide thanking me on our way back to my little Suzuki. For showing interest and making time.

Cool hey? Starting with competing for my business to hire a tour guide. Diverting through a friendly talk and walk. Ending up celebrating the wedding of a best friend together. And all people involved getting much more out of it than just doing business for money. These are the days I live for here in Africa.

Again it was one day full of emotions. Unsure expectation, will I struck a deal to visit? Deep fear when nervously looking down from that rock wall. A sense of achievment upon reaching the top filled with adrenalin. Calm relaxation and sheer astonishment inside that beautiful church. Forming friendship on the way back down. Happyness when sharing the fun of the wedding celebration. And a really good feeling going to bed after such a great day. Again, memories which will last on for a long long time to come

I suppose this experience at Abuna Yemata church would be hard to repeat at the other churches. Again, it's people much more than places to provide the memorable moments. So I am very reluctant to visit other similar churches in the area. And might just see the most impressive ones from the outside. It's the location, the walk and climb to get there in this huge environment, that impresses the most anyway.

Tigray Pics
 

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Maryam Bisnan, a rock hewn church high up in the mountains. It took me more than one hour to get here from the road. All you can see from the outside is this.

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The sandstone rocks in the vicinity of Maryam Bisnan are decorated with religious symbols.

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The view from Maryam Bisnan down into the endless landscape of northern Ethiopia.

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Leaving tyre tracks on a typical gravel road. Near Hawzien.

Abuna Yemata
 

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The view while walking up to Abuna Yemata. We have not even reached the steep cliff face yet.

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Up there we have to go. No rope. No security. God's blessing alone helped in this case.

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That's me at the top, happy to be alive.

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The inside of the Abuna Yemata is incredibly colourful. These paintings are almost 600 years old, on the walls and ceiling of a 1600 year old church. The entire church is chiselled deep inside the rock. The cavelike flair, being surrounded by paintings of faces looking down on you and the total silence make for a really intense atmosphere.

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The dean who climbed up with us to open the church. During the hairy bit of climbing up the rock face he helped me a lot guiding my hands and feet and by taking my backpack.

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Trust is everything. Underneath this 'bridge' is 250m of nothing.

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Safely back at the bike. You can't see it but Abuna Yemata is high up inside the right rock finger in the foreground of the big mountain.

more rock churches
 

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Long shadows in the evening twilight. The church of Abraha Atsbha in the background. The actual church is dug inside the rock behind the building on that hill.

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View from Abraha Atsbha down into the valley.

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It is a very pleasant change to be able to ride without luggage. The dirt roads in this area are heaps fun.

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Mikael Imba church. It is hard to believe but the entire church was carved out of one monolithic rock. The church building is one with the surrounding sandstone, the interior was simply hollowed out.

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Inside Mikael Imba church.

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The orthodox church has earned a huge importance in the village life. Procedures are strictly followed and people highly respected.

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Villages in this part of Tigrai Region consist of houses quite far apart from each other. Houses are built as closed circles with all windows and doors towards the inner courtyard. Almost like medieval castles. Each of these circles consists of many houses, one for each generation of the same family. Building material is usually bare rocks, put together without the use of any mortar.

Sekota
 

Time is flying by and so are my km. I am still in Ethiopia, currently in a small town called Sekota. Martin is still travelling by bus and we should meet again in Lalibela tomorrow or the day after.
There were not too many highlights to write about since leaving the area of the rock churches. First I stayed in Wukro for three days. There was no particular reason for staying for three days except that I really liked it there. There was a cheap hotel, cheap but clean and good. I sort of became part of the family who owned it. We shared our meals, they let me take part in their coffee ceremony every evening. There was satellite TV. But for some reason everyone in Ethiopia loves to watch Wrestling. So that's what was shown on TV all the time. However, there were two small but lovely dogs as well. Really playful ones. So it was fun to stay there.
When I arrived in Wukro I had no idea about the place. So when I asked a random person for advice on a cheap hotel I met a young guy called Alex. He showed me the beautiful hotel I quickly learned to love. And he also showed me around town. He had no family, no mum or dad, but earned a little money from washing cars to afford his own room (AU$1.75 rent per month) and his own simple but happy life. We became good mates during these three days and I met many of his friends and girlfriends as well. And took part in the local Tshat chewing session. And shared cheap food with them. So it were three days of a simple life but three really cool days.
Tshat is quite interesting stuff. Strictly speaking it's a drug. But not a powerful one. It's green leaves which you chew and chew and chew for hours. People say it makes you happy and keeps you focussed and awake. To be honest, I could not feel any effect apart from it making me a bit less tired, similar to a cup of coffee.
But the procedure to consume it is pretty cool. Because it's really social. You sit together in a group of friends. And while you're chewing you talk about the world, the universe and everything. A typical share of Tshat lasts for around two hours of chewing. So plenty of time to talk.

After three good days in Wukro I moved on to new places. Going South the road was just fantastic again. Beautiful tarmac meandering up and down the mountains. With views that just make you stop and say 'Wow!'. The road takes you up to elevations of beyond 3000m. Whereas my little Suzuki seems to have no issues with this height (I thought carburator engines have trouble at heights???) I certainly have my problems with it. Because it's freezing up there. I mean, I'm in Africa! I don't want to wear four layers of clothes. But I had to. Man was it cold.
That night after a happy day of great riding I stopped tired and cold in a town called Maychew. Still at an elevation of more than 2500m it was cold, so cold. So first priority was to find a place selling hot coffee. And from that moment on things took their own turns.
What I did not know was that right at this time Maychew hosted the Tigray Region Athletic Championships. So the whole town was filled up with over 5000 young hyped up athletes from all over the state in party mood. Before I even had a chance to order my coffee I was surrounded by a big group of them. Three of them automatically took over my case and before I knew I had my coffee. And a cheap room. And dinner. And personal guides for the town. No one asked for anything in return, people here are genuinly, honestly friendly. And that is a really cool feeling. Funnily enough the three guys 'adopting' me are part of the team representing Wukro. Of course they also knew Alex. So in the evening we sat together and watched a few of my many photos. Photos from Ethiopia, places of their country they have never seen. And photos of Australia.
After a freezing cold night I went for breakfast the next morning, keen for something warm. At the time my three friends were competing in the 100m sprint race. But anyway, I entered the restaurant and immediately was invited to sit on the table of a group of maybe 5 other athletes. Chairs shuffled aside to make room. From somehwere a clean spoon appeared and I was invited to share all their food on the table before I even had a chance to order my own. Man, that stuff had a lot of carbs and protein. But hey, they were athletes. As I learned their speciality was martial arts. Better take care with these guys. But we had a lot of fun on this table, communicating with broken English and a lot of excitement while drinking cheap but hot tea. One even offered me his sister to marry! On the photo she looked really cool. But however, I decided it was time to go. So I left Maychew, buying some black market petrol in plastic bottles on the way out.

The beautiful road continued South. Now mostly downhill into much warmer elevations. Really cosy actually. Past Lake Ashange and into Korem town. From there I opted for going West onto a dirtroad to Lalibela. Lonely Planet decribed that road as 'rough and dusty'. But to my surprise it wasn't. It was a wide and perfectly graded smooth gravel road. Once more winding it's way through a stunning landscape of brown mountains, high and cold mountain passroads, deep valleys and far horizons. I just kept shouting 'wow wow wow!!!' into my helmet, really awesome to ride along there. Every now and then I found a small village to enjoy one of the excellent Ethiopian coffees before riding on again, riding west towards Sekota, shouting 'wow wow WOW' at every corner that opened a new view deep down into another valley.
Arriving in Sekota I was really surprised that out of all places it was here that petrol was available for normal prices at a petrol station! Quickly I had two new friends as well. Two young guys in clothes I would describe as 'rotten'. But really friendly again. They helped me finding a room. Although most places were booked out ('rooms finished') we finally found one for me. Which made them almost more happy than me.
Guest houses in Sekota don't have water. Water is a really rare commodity here. So when my two friends decided that I need a shower (if two people in dirty rotten clothes advise you to take a shower it surely means something...) we tried to find water. There are 'shower houses' in town where you can go with your soap and towel, pay two Birr ($0.30) and take a shower. But nothing is easy in Ethiopia. Most shower houses had 'water finished'. Soon I was frustrated enough to give up but my friends insisted I need a shower (can't imagine it was so bad). And finally we found a shower house with water. Finally. And I must admit that shower felt really good.
Afterwards my friends showed me a good place for dinner. But refused to let me buy a dinner for them. Instead, while I was eating a fantastic Enjera they started scavanging food scraps and unfinished meals from the other tables. But would not accept anything from me. Them being more happy than me for finding me accommodation, shower and food we went back to my room together and chatted for a while longer.
My two friends were 16 and 25 years old. The 25 year old going to school in grade 9. The 16 year old never went to school. They make some tiny amount of money by washing cars and helping out in a restaurant as waiter to earn some food scraps.
After a while they said good bye and got ready to leave. When I asked them how long they have to walk home they said they don't know. With some obvious embarrassment. I soon learned they were on their way to sleep on the footpath. Their parents are divorced and both only have a mother to go back to. But the mothers live in a rural area far from here and in such poverty that they can not support the family. So these two sons went out to town to support themselves.
Quite frankly I was shocked. These guys, super friendly and helpful all day long. Happily laughing, chatting with me while showing me around town. Now leaving the hotel room which they organised for me. To sleep on the cold footpath. They would not accept anything from me. No food. No money. Not sleeping in my room. Nothing. The only thing they asked for I did not have: exercise books for school. What can I do? What a weird twist of things?

I decided to stay one extra day in Sekota and to spend one full day with these kids. And there are more of them. I instantly met two more. One badly limping. It's an injury on the sole of his right foot that happened seven months ago. Hoping I could do something using my little first aid skills I had alook at his foot. Removing the old bandage there was this stench of old puss. And what a horrible picture it was. The underside of his foot was wet, dirty, black and full of puss. It's a miracle he could walk at all. I really felt the pain by just looking at it. Not much we could do here apart from thoroughly washing the foot clean and put a new bandage on.

Out of the four kids three never went to school.

Finally at least they accepted that I buy some cheap dinner and share it with them. As bad as their state might look, these kids are really proud people. They would not accept any food for lunch from me. And even dinner was hard work of convincing them.

Africa keeps shocking me. In positive and negative ways. Quite often it is a world I truly do not understand. Full of processes that make no sense. Until someone explains the background and opens my eyes to give the 'Oh sh...t, of course!!!' effect. I guess that is one major reason why I still, above all else, find the most impressive thing in Africa to be the African people. Their sense of community, of belonging, their friendship and hospitality, their way of looking after each other. If you make time to learn to know them you will often be shaken in your foundations for how they live. And for how happy they are. I feel now how learning their stories changes me. And it changes my view of life. I don't know into what. But, I guess, this is what will be the longest lasting heritage out of this journey.

Awesome!
 

Marco,

thank you for sharing your trip report and your experiences with us. I find them very touching. Your genuine respect for the people you are meeting on your trip is nothing but impressive.

I don´t think this world will become a better one if everybody lives the life of the Western societies. Living in Germany, where we can enjoy such a high living standard and still a very good social system I am constantly asking myself why the heck the people make such an unhappy impression to me. It can´t be because we are lacking in material things, healthcare or food. Maybe what you are experiencing is vital for the future of mankind. The persuit of wealth it sure is not.

If someone knows how to do it, it would be great to set up a little help fund via Paypal so that you can give a little bit of support along your route. I would be willing to pitch in. Maybe you still have a German bank account, I am definately willing to donate to the cause. Even if it only is enough for a wool blanket and a plastic tarp for your Ethiopean buddies, or payment for first aid, whatever. Shoot me a PM if this is OK for you.

Whatever, let your friends know they have our utmost respect and admiration on how they are living their lifes! :thumbup:

As far as I am concerned, even though my life has been pretty rough the last few years, your posts make me feel the priviledge to live in one of the wealthiest countries on this planet.

Thanks so much for sharing. I am glad I found your story.

Gute Reise.

Thanks Pete, thanks for your very nice reply. As you can read from my posts, travelling in Africa gives you a lot of reasons for thinking. I was thinking about the issue as well as to what is the best way to help. For that reason I am sure I will come back to Africa one day, better organised. Your idea with PayPal is good. But here in Africa due to lack of internet and bank accounts still difficult.
As for my journey now I am able to make a lot of contacts. Let me go back to Australia first and then use these contacts to do something.

So I guess I will meet you in Germany sometime!

Bis spaeter!

more pics
 

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One of my new favourite dogs guarding my little Suzuki at the guest house in Wukro.

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My new friend Alex and me in Wukro.

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The perfect road. Serpentine section between Wukro and Maychew.

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Riding at elevations over 3000m. Bloody cold up there.

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My little Suzuki being truly 'little' in this environment of giant valleys.

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My two street kid friends and me in Sekota.

Lalibela
 

One of the must-do destinations in Ethiopia is undoubtedly Lalibela. A small town high up in the mountains which is known in the world for it's rock churches. It is only a 128km ride along a beautiful gravel road to get to Lalibela from Sekota. At first I was a bit hesitant. After the good times I had in the local towns during the last few weeks Lalibela would be the Mekka for tourists.
But when I arrived there, I was surprised. Instead of the expected touts following me around or people begging for money or inflated prices Lalibela offered many 'Welcome to Lalibela' greetings. Most restaurants served local food for local prices. And kids were more interested in me playing soccer with them then in money. Who would have thought?
I arrived in Lalibela just after lunch on a beautiful sunny day. From other travellers back in Addis Ababa we got the good advice that there is a cool restaurant with amazing views into the valleys around and they would accept campers. And to my surprise they did. The 'Ben Abeba' is a real upmarket restaurant offering good quality food for a pretty upmarket price. It's design is amazing, very modern. You could compare it to a space station out of the Star Trek movies. And it's location high on a hilltop (elevation 2500m) offering 360 degree views around is even better. Ben Abeba is co-owned by an Ethiopian guy and a Scottish lady. Both are really friendly and welcoming and allowed me to camp for free anywhere on the property. And also for Martin who was still stuck in Sekota waiting for transport.
To visit the famous rock churches you need to buy a rather expensive ticket. Which is valid for five days. So I bought one straight the next morning and started visiting some churches by myself (no bus on Sundays for Martin between Sekota and Lalibela). There is eleven of them in Lalibela. And they are all awesome. If you imagine you find a big rock. Then you start from the top, digging a deep hole into it but leave a big cube standing in the centre. So looking from the top you see a rock cube with a deep trench around it. And then you start hollowing out that cube. Like a cave. But inside you leave pillars, arcs, steps, walls. Into the walls you carve doors and windows. And into the pillars and ceiling you carve beautiful ornaments and crosses. You don't build anything, don't add anything. Just take away the rock. And what's left standing is a church. Made of massive rock. Which is one with the rock around it. A church that will last forever. And this is Lalibela. Times eleven. And one thousand years old. In short: it's awesome.
For the fact that it is number one tourist destination in Ethiopia these churches give you heaps freedom for discoveries. There is no railings, no prohibited signs. So you can climb up onto the roof, explore some dark tunnels and see where some paths carved deep into the surrounding rock will lead you. There is absolutly no signposting. And the tourist information run out of maps long time ago. So it's all up to you and your imagination.
On my first day of church exploration I found a great place to relax during mid day. Up on the rock edge, right next to where the churches had been carved out. And by coincidence this was also the favorite lunch spot of one of the security guards for the churches. An 80 year old skinny man whose main task was to check tickets of visitors. He was joined by his 18 year old grandson and two other family members. Ethiopians are friendly people and the old man insisted I share his lunch with him, some Enjera with goat meat. So I had to. And we sat there together with his family during his entire two hour lunch break chatting. His grandson translating. We connected so well there that I was even invited to come to their home for dinner later on.
When people invite me I usually accept. And either leave them a tip afterwards or a little present. I find this way you can experience local life as genuine as possible.
That evening I met a big family of uncles, aunts and many many happy kids. We had fantastic Enjera and great coffee. The grandson then offered me to show me another rock hewn church high up in the mountains the next day. Which I gladly accepted.
Funnily enough Martin sent me a SMS that he managed to secure a ride in the tray of a truck from Sekota and would also arrive in Lalibela that evening. So after dinner I waited at the Ben Abeba restaurant. There is literally no traffic around Lalibela at dark and from the high location of the restaurant we could see Martin's truck slowly moving through the night from kilometres away. Finally, for the first time since leaving Axum we managed to see each other again!
Martin and two other traveller friends now also camped at the restaurant and joined us to climb up to the Asheton monastry the next morning. After one and a half hours of climbing, up at a breathtaking elevation of 3300m, we found a church even older than the famous ones down in Lalibela. But it was the view which was the most impressive thing. I guess we could see for hundrets of km into the valleys. Down towards Lalibela, the river Jordan and the mountains around us.

There is alot of history in Lalibela. But it's also the people who make you want to stay for longer. I ended up staying for five days. While Martin started his journey to Addis Ababa in order to pick up the parcel containing his new fuel pump, my new back tyre and other spares for us. During these days people literally competed against each other as to who will invite me for coffee and who for dinner. And with whom I spend the morning and with whom the evening. It's a really welcoming folks up there. Consequently during these five days I drunk as much coffee as I normally would in two years. And had a lot of good food. And made many new friends. And we had long nights of drinking Tej (some strong local honey wine) or beer, we tried traditional Ethiopian dancing (mainly moving your shoulders and neck), listened to traditional music in small local bars and played a lot of Pool.
It was a fantastic time and I really loved Lalibela. For it's churches. But even more for it's people. The old guard and his grandson. The crew from Ben Abeba. And the people from the street who made me feel so welcome to their town.

Now I am in Debre Tabor, a big town along the road between Lalibela and Gondar. Still at an elevation of 2700m it is pretty cold here. Debre Tabor is not famous for anything but seems to be a nice place to stay for a day. On my first night I was already shown to some local traditional music place and had a lot of fun trying to dance Ethiopian style. And was invited to more good coffee.
Tomorrow night Martin will (hopefully with the local bus system) get to Gondar where his Africa Twin is still parked, waiting for the new fuel pump. We will meet there again, install all the spares from the parcel and then continue our journey together towards Sudan. Once again two friends on two motorcycles.

Lalibela pics
 

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One of the eleven rock churches in Lalibela. It is hard to imagine but the whole thing is carved into a huge rock. First a hole was chisseled into the rock with a big cube left standing. And then a church was carved into that cube. The original rock is still there as steep walls surrounding the curch.

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Meeting people while relaxing on the rock next to the churches. The old man works as security guard in the church compound, his grandson (on the right side) would later be guiding us around Lalibela.

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St George Church is one of the most beautiful ones. Also carved deep inside a rock.

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We were very lucky to be allowed to camp at the Ben Abeba restaurant, a pretty high standard restaurant on a hilltop. The setting is just beautiful and the views are amazing. You can see the rather modern building of Ben Abeba in the distance.

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People in Lalibela are very friendly and we got many invites for coffee or enjera into people's homes. This picture was taken inside the livingroom of a family. Standards are pretty poor, walls are bare and the floor is usually just dirt. But hospitality is rich and these people happily welcome you to their home.

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St Gabriel, another church carved out of the rock.

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Inside these churches you find a pretty intense atmosphere. It is dark, cold. You smell the burnt incense. And it is usually very quite. Except when a big group of tourists arrive with their guide.

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Me with some new friends.

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Ben Abeba has a very special design. When we arrived the restaurant was still in construction but already open for business. It provided one of the best campgrounds we have had in Ethiopia so far.

Bad luck
 

Unfortunately it looks like these will be the last pics for a while. It's hard to believe but in the security guarded campground of our hotel in Gondar my backpack and my old motorbike pants got stolen out of the tent. Unfortunately my camera was in the backpack. And my passport and Visa card in the motorbike pants.
Police is confident they will find the perpetrator soon. But this confidence might not mean much in Africa. So I might be stuck in Ethiopia for a while longer.
I keep you posted..

Sorry to hear about the theft. Hope things will get sorted out soon.

Enjoy your trip, after all, it is about travelling and meeting people.

It would be nice to meet you, Marco. The beer is on me! bier

Okay Pete, we´ve got a deal!:thumbup1:



On another positive note - even the thiefs here are nice persons. One day after the theft a plastic bag mysteriously found its way back to my tent. Inside the bag my passport, motorbike keys, credit card, driver licence ...

The camera is gone though. But I still have a small little point and shoot. So dont worry, there will be more pics!!!!

your costs so far
 

Biking Marco

Can you give an idea of what this has cost $$$$ so far.

and as you leave Africa, What you expect the European Part of the journey to be.

Marco,

Sorry to hear about the theft of your stuff, including your camera. I have a Canon G9 in very good condition you can have if I can get it to you. As unpredictable as your itinerary is that might be difficult, but I can mail it anywhere you'd like. I'm in Hawaii so I think perhaps a week or a week and a half to get it to East Africa.

Chris

update
 

Okay, after the recent two short posts it is time to let you know the full story about stuff disappearing and reappearing in Gondar.
As many travellers know, touring Africa can be a risky business. We were very lucky so far, more than most people spending so much time on this continent. Up to now the theft of my ugly old mobile phone in Rwanda was the peak of negative experiences in Africa for me. This time in Gondar though it was much more serious.
When I arrived here Friday night I just pitched my tent, put all my stuff in there and was very hungry for dinner. Same as last time in Gondar I camped at the Tarera Hotel. It is relatively cheap but has a fenced compound and security guards. Sofia and Jordi, two overlanders we keep meeting along the way were here and keen for dinner too. Martin would arrive the next morning by bus from Addis Ababa with the parcel from Germany.
Quickly I got out of my dirty rotten motorbike pants, grabbed all the money out of them and put on my (rather) clean pants. And the three of us went for dinner.
Coming back an hour later I found my tent open and pretty messy inside. My two bike panniers stood next to the tent outside. Easy to realise that someone has been messing around in the tent. Oh sh...t, now it has finally happened! I guess the thief was in a hurry, all they grabbed was my motorbike pants and my little green daypack. The big motorcycle panniers remained unopened, just pushed aside to make room. They are definitely too heavy to run away with.

Problem was that inside my motorbike pants was my passport with the Ethiopia and Sudan visa, my driver licence, my motorbike keys and my credit card. Inside my backpack was the spare keys for my little Suzuki, my camera, my head torch, my Swiss army knife, my toilet paper and most importantly my banana bisquits. Banana bisquits are hard to find and they are awesome.
However, we quickly rounded up the hotel manager and the security guards and discussed the situation. They did not seem to be much surprised and asked why I don't keep my stuff at reception. But why? What do I pay for? What are the security guards doing here? However, too late now.
So a big group of us including Sofia and a hotel manager went straight to Police. On a Friday night you can't expect much from Police. But at least they wrote down my details and a list of what's been stolen. The list of stolen things in much less detail than the list about me. Strange questions. Why was it important which religion I am? Or what will the do with the name of my grandfather? Which grandfather anyway? Or does it help to know at which grade I left school? But only cooperation brings you further and I calmly answered all the questions. 'The next morning' they said I would meet someone from the Tourist Police. Case finished for Friday night.

And surely the next morning at 8am two guys waited at the Tarera Hotel for me. One from Tourist Police and one from Tourist Information. And both were really helpful. And appeared to take the whole thing very serious, particularly my stolen passport. They promised to do whatever they can and said it was likely I will get my things back.

In Gondar there are a lot of dodgy people, particularly around dirty cheap hotels like Tarera. They keep whispering to you that they can change money for you on the black market. Or can help to find a bike mechanic. Or can help you in whatever else.
A stolen passport is a serious thing. I had only one week left to enter Sudan otherwise my Sudan visa would expire. No chance to make it back to Addis Ababa in time and get a new passport from my embassy. And from here a new Sudan visa would be much more difficult to obtain than in Nairobi. My lost passport would be a certain split up between Martin and me for the long term of this journey. No good. So I decided to not just leave it to Police but also talked to two of the dodgy people, hoping they know more dodgy people who know dodgy people and finally can find my stuff with someone. They promised to use their dodgy connections to help and disappeared. As dodgy people do.

Less than two hours later hotel staff found a strange plastic bag next to the dry swimming pool. Containing my passport, my driver licence, my motorbike key and spare key and my credit card. But no banana bisquits.
How did that happen? Of course no one knows for sure. I called my two dodgy helpers and the helpful guy from the Tourist Police to let them know. They all seemed to be very pleased. The Police man came straight to the hotel to inspect the findings and was all smiles. So was I. He told me that after we met this morning he sent out a message through some sort of forum for bad guys (not the HUBB!!!) that the thief please may return all the documents important for me but useless for them. No idea if it was this message or the stirring action of my other two helpers. But as friendly as Ethiopian thieves are they brought me back my most important things.
All being in a good mood I also asked the Police man if he could send out another message through the same dodgy forum. That the tourist would be keen to get his camera back also and would pay some good dollars for it. He liked the idea and promised to do so. And my two other helpers started now focussing on the black markets spreading the same message. That was Saturday morning.
The rest of Saturday we spent installing all the spare parts from Martin's parcel from Germany. And my new Mitas E07 rear tyre. Martin's Africa Twin is back in perfect shape now. Installing my new rear tyre proved very stressfull though. I thought I get it done in a tyre shop. Bad idea.
I should have run away when they asked me if I had tools.
A shop to repair tyres??? BYO tools? However, I gave them the tools and immediately 10 people were around my poor little Suzuki trying violently with my tools and their big hammer to get the wheel out. Once it was out the same violence was used to get the tyre off the rim. 10 people at the same time manhandling their sharp edged metal bars to be abused as tyre levers.
When it comes to my little Suzuki I can get aggressive very quickly. Can't remember how often I had to call stop and push people away from the wheel. And to remind them to use our rim protection. And take care with the tube. And to not throw everything in the dirt. And to keep the brake disc on the top, not on the bottom. And to not step onto the brake disc. To notice the rotation direction of the new tyre. Etc. When they started to reinstall the rear axle with a huge hammer they finally crossed the line. I told them to back off and I finished off myself. Usually I'm not like that. But sorry, it was just too much to bear. After all it's about my beautiful little Suzuki! The whole thing took 2 hours. I grew older by two years during those.

Sure enough I found my little Suzuki the next morning with a flat rear tyre...

Sunday one of my 'dodgy' helpers and me, we chombed the black market spots for my camera. Incredible how many Ipods and mobile phones change hands here. We also discretely searched foto studios, they would be the most likely buyers of my camera. But no trace. There is also an association of people who take scenic photos for and with tourists. These guys claim they usually are approached first when a good camera looks for a new owner. Because they can actually use it. But no trace.
My helper and me, we continued investigating and spreading the message on Monday. It's kind of cool to be part of this and have a look into the dodgy side of Ethiopia. I think I like the idea to become a Police investigator, it's kind of thrilling. But all to no avail. So I guess the camera is lost. If I was the smart thief I would wait too before letting the camera resurface.

Tourist Police promised to keep investigating. My two dodgy helpers promised to keep their eyes and ears open and to contact me if they find a trace. The tourist photographers too. And also the people in the photo studios. How serious they are in their promises, I don't know. The reward I offered might increase their seriousness. But I guess for me the camera is lost. And somewhere some bad guy will take good photos while chewing on awesome banana bisquits.

Fortunately I backed up my pics just before. So not many photos are lost. Most importantly, I have my passport and can continue to Sudan with Martin. Which I shall do tomorrow, on Tuesday. Using my spare small pocket camera with the broken display from now on.

The rest of today I spent with one of my dodgy but friendly helpers, chewing some Tchat to relax and drinking some tea. To forget about the frustrating last few days. And to enjoy Africa once more. It worked.

I also bought some Strawberry bisquits. 'Banana bisquits finished' the shopkeeper said.

cheers
 

Hey Chris, that is a great offer and much appreciated. A G9 is an awesome camera for travelling. However, I think to send it here is indeed difficult. Postage costs and customs clearance will cost more than buying a new camera in Sudan. Apparently cameras there are pretty cheap. So I guess it's best if I look into that first.
I also still have an old Canon Ixus with broken screen. Not ideal but good enough to shoot some pics for the time being.

Thanks again and cheers from Gondar!

costs
 

Up to now we average just under US$1000 per month per person to live here. That is an average across some more expensive countries like Kenya and some cheaper countries like Ethiopia. It does not include buying any of our equipment, all that was done before leaving Australia. We also live cheaply and skipped some of the major tourist attractions and National Parks. They can be very expensive (e.g. climbing Mt Kilimanjaro = $1000).

Costs for Europe I expect to be cheaper. I've got family and friends there and will not do much sightseeing.

Looking forward to more of your stories and photos Marco - great stuff to date! :) Good to hear you got the paperwork back - wish all thieves were so friendly! That was a serious risk they took bringing it back.

First days in Sudan
 

It took a few more days in Gondar to finish the police report about my stolen things. But finally I was able to leave. Martin has been waiting for a while at the Sudanese border. I arrived there on Friday. And the next day we crossed.
Crossing from Ethiopia to Sudan is quite easy and straight forward. If you have your documents together. Our two Spanish overlander friends had no Carnet for their car. No Carnet - no crossing. Martin and me, we had our Carnet for the bikes. And within an hour we were free on the Sudanese side of the border.
At the border crossing we met three more friendly young overlanders, two South Africans and one English man on their way to Capetown with their bicycles. Only that one of them had to stop cycling in Karthoum because of knee problems. Now he is travelling with the most awesome motorbike I've ever seen (apart from my little Suzuki). It's an orange Egyptian made Jawa motorbike, 350ccm, two stroke. And best of all - it has an orange sidecar. It's a real beauty and the beauty of that beast surely compensates for the fact that it breaks down every now and then. But these three will surely have a cool journey - two bicycles and one old motorbike.

But back to Martin and me and Sudan. What a difference a border can make! On this side of the border the excellent tarmac road coming all the way from Gondar simply continues. But everything else changes. The landscape is totally different. Most of today we travelled through flat terrain. Flat to the horizon. There is hardly anything, only some scattered little Acacia trees. But not many. The landscape is covered with golden yellow dry grass. Dotted with some black rocks. Everything is dry. And hot. Really hot. You can feel the closeness of the Sahara here. And you can see it. The air is filled with dust. Strong northerly winds bring this dust straight from the Sahara. We started seeing this phenomenon in Gondar already. But up here it is getting more and more dominant in the environment. Everything has a yellow shine with it. Like looking through yellow sunglasses. The sun is visible only as a dim disk of light in the afternoon hours. The horizon vanishes in a yellowish haze. At night only the moon and the brightest stars are visible. You can smell the dust. And you can see it accumulating on the surfaces. Like on my little Suzuki over night. Many people walk around with dust masks. And day and night there is this strong wind. During the day it is quite hot. It blows from the right hand side and make us ride our bike leaning at an angle. The combination of hot air, the smell of dust, the strong wind on our skin, the eternally flat landscape tainted into a dusty yellow haze - it creates an awesome environment. I've never seen anything like it.
During the night the wind cools you down. Down to a degree that you need to use your sleeping bag again. All night long you hear the wind howling across the empty landscape.

But it's not just the environment that is different, it's also the people. They seem to be keep more of a distance here in Sudan. No longer do they run towards you, do they waive to you from the roadside or shout greetings towards you. No more 'you you YOU!'. English skills are much less developed so communication is quite hard. Most signs are written in Arabic only. But people are still kind, friendly, hospitable. Just in a more calm way, not so much in your face as in Ethiopia.

Sudan is an islamic country and you feel it straight away. Women hide their faces, men wear Galabiyas. There are no more orthodox churches. But many mosques.
Also we saw hundrets of camels today. Big herds of them, held in cheque by a few people using long sticks. It felt like the border between Ethiopia and Sudan divides two very different worlds.
Riding through Sudan today reminded me of Australia. Riding along the Nullarbour back in August was the last time I've been riding through such a flat and empty landscape along a perfectly straight road. It kind of feels cool. Cool that now, I'm in Sudan. I'm really here. On my bike. All the way from home.

As it is the nature of empty landscapes there are not too many highlights. So we travel quite long distances during the day and will reach Karthoum tomorrow. North of Karthoum Sudan will provide more things to see and do and we will spend much more time there.
Hopefully also in Karthoum I can replace some of the things that got stolen in Gondar. As much as it is a pity loosing my camera but it's also the little things which I really miss. Little things I carried in my backpack for ease of access and which got stolen with it. Like my pens. My head torch. My swiss army knife. Or my spoon. I never realised how important these things are.

Karthoum
 

Faster than expected we made it to Sudan's capital, Karthoum. Due to our short two weeks visa we need to hurry through Sudan at a faster pace than we would otherwise have done. To extend the visa is difficult as hell and expensive. We already spent two days in Karthoum just to register our presence in the country and to collect the necessary photo and travel permits. Sudan is by now the country requiring us to do the most paperwork. But hey, it's worth it, it's cool to be here.
Karthoum is quite a modern city, much more than expected. There are some beautiful high rise buildings along the rivers Nile. The city is cut in three by these rivers. There is the Blue Nile coming from Ethiopia, the White Nile coming from Uganda. Both combining here in Karthoum to the Nile River, a huge mass of water heading through the dry and barren landscape towards Egypt. Travelling through a desert like landscape for the last few days in the intense heat of the African sun I was very surprised to see such a huge river. And as for most cities the river forms the base of the beauty for Karthoum.
We stay at the National Camping Residence, some 7km from the CBD. And quite close to a western style shopping mall. With free Wifi Internet. And to my big surprise a shop in there had one Canon SLR camera for sale.
After mine 'disappeared' in Gondar I was obviously upset. For me a camera is a pretty important thing to have on a journey. More than any souvenir, photos are memories. And back home I found myself very often going through some old pics of previous holidays and started dreaming again. Photos of people, places, fortunes and misfortunes. For this journey, my biggest one ever, photos will need to do the same in the future. Not being able to take any or just taking crap ones with my broken old point and shoot camera was a big worry. So here was the chance. But should I really fork out a lot of money for a new SLR right here in Karthoum? It's pretty much western price levels for electronics.
I thought a lot about it and said yep, let's do it. And now I'm loving it. Took heaps of photos on the first day and am heaps happy with it. And will now guard it with all I have, no thief may ever lay hands on my stuff again!!!

Due to our short visa we will leave Karthoum tomorrow and keep heading north. There are many ancient sites, old as the famous monuments across the border in Egypt but creating much less publicity.
From what we have seen so far, Internet is a rare commodity here. So I hope we will find some and will be able to let you guys know what's happening with us in Sudan.

Sudan pics
 

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Other than Ethiopia Sudan is mostly flat and dry.

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Stopping for dinner along the road near Gedaref.

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Similar to the start of my journey through Australia the Sudanese landscape is empty and cut in half by one straight tarmac road.

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Sudan's capital Karthoum is a busy and well developed city. It was here where surprisingly I was able to buy a new awesome camera to keep our HUBB audience happy with photos.

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City scene - cemetary and mausoleum.

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Our bikes next to camels on the Karthoum camel market.

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AU$700 and it's yours.

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Donkeys still provide cheap transport for many. But they are not as numerous as in Ethiopia.

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Karthoum city

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Karthoum city

Great pics and great write-ups, Marco. Glad to hear you found a camera in Sudan. Which Canon did you get?

Thanks for sharing this adventure with us Marco. Glad to see you've got a new camera, pictures look great.
Ride safe.

Sudan is a big big country. And we have to rush through on our two weeks visa. Worse still, the exit from Sudan for us is only possible on Wednesdays. That is the day when the only ferry per week is sailing from Wadi Halfa towards Aswan in Egypt. So we either have to rush through in 12 days and take the ferry next Wednesday. Or we get to Wadi Halfa on the day of our visa expiry and have to wait for five days for the next ferry. Being half illegally in the most bureaucratic country of our journey. See how we go...

So far we have spent six days in Sudan. And since we got North of Karthoum Sudan becomes a great playground for adventurers and motorbike riders. It is all desert up here, dry and flat. The main road is perfect tarmac. Beside it there are desert tracks, awesome to ride along. There is a couple of ancient archeological sites here. Naqa, Musawwarat, Meroe. These sites are old, as old as the Pharaonic times 25 centuries ago. There are temples. There are pyramids. On the Meroe site heaps of pyramids. To get to these sites you need to go through the desert, sometimes for as much as 40km. The desert is flat and mostly hard surface. So technically you could go straight through it. But the paths are easier to follow and to ride along. Navigation is the only problem. Because these paths fork off, split up and combine again, sometimes go many km a different way. Martin and me, we enjoyed having our own private roads. Sometimes taking us apart so far we couldn't see each other. And then bringing us together again. It heaps fun. Some areas are sandy. But not too sandy as to spoil your fun. Most areas are smooth hard surface. At one time Martin and me, we lost each other along these tracks. Fortunately enough we both had GPS with the coordinates of our temples typed in. We ended up taking very different routes but meeting at the temple again. A big thumps up for the GPS here, without GPS it would have been incredibly hard to find these old temples in the desert.
Once there, we were the only ones. And that's what makes the Sudanese ancient monuments so special. No one trying to sell you things. No busloads full of tourists. Nothing. Just a Police post. One guy selling your ticket. No one else. You are free to explore these sites completely by yourself. Climb in and out and on top of things. It's really cool. Last night we camped right next to one such ruined temple. It's been almost full moon. The desert, flat and empty, at night is totally silent. No sound at all. And in the moon light you could see the landscape in faded colour all the way to the horizon. The air is now clear and hot. The dusty atmosphere from our first few days has magically cleaned itself. So now there are stars, the Northern sky. Very different from what we see in Australia. Very clearly we can identify the Polar Star now.
Today we kept going and visited the Meroe site along the way. The famous site in Meroe is an ancient cemetary. In Egyptian style every tomb had it's own big pyramid on it, some as tall as 30m. Not as big as in Egypt. But in much higher numbers. Figures say that there are more than 100 pyramids on that site. Many of them weathered away to a pile of rocks though. But there are still some 30 or so clearly identifiable. They are built of black square rocks. Which contrasts just beautifully with the orange sand dunes of the surrounding desert. And apart from us no other tourist there. Martin, who is not too much into ruins stayed outside. So I had the whole thing for myself. It felt like being a kid again, exploring the world. Everything looked strange and new. It's a magical place. There are big pyramids and small ones. Some well intact, some crumbled to dust, some restored. All of them facing exactly east with their entrance, all of them exactly parallel to each other. And all in a lonely orange desert under the scorching sun shining down from a blue sky. A perfect play of colours.
As much as I love the environment I strangely find it hard to connect to Sudan's people. Many travellers said that Sudan would be the friendliest country on our journey. But people here seem to rather stay away from us. Of course they are friendly and very respectful. But also keep a certain distance. And conversations are mostly empty small talk.
Also many travellers said they strongly disliked Ethiopia because of it's people. But I loved it there because of them. I found Ethiopia's people much more open. There were no boundaries and they would just come and greet you and talk to you, regardless if it's convenient or not. With naivity but with friendly intent. Some tried to rip you off. But most were genuinely friendly. And in conversations all of us learned something and had a good time. That's probably what the difference is - in Ethipoa it is easy to spend a lot of time with locals. In Sudan that did not work yet. And after a few minutes conversations simply dry off. I made some good friends while in Ethiopia. Not sure if I can do the same in Sudan. But I keep trying.
Tonight we are no longer camping in the desert. We found a great spot on the East bank of the river Nile near Ed Damer. It's all green here. The tent where I am sitting now, sweating and typing this report, is pitched under palm trees. You can hear frogs and crickets and the occasional boat. You can hear the mosquitos in their hopeless attempts to find a way into the tent. And we made it just in time to see the sun set over the river and a huge orange full moon rise over the desert. Riding your own motorcycle to the banks of the river Nile - a priceless experience.
It's a cool thing for Martin and me because it's very similar to how our friendship started many many years ago. Back then, when I was still living in Germany we were both into cycling. Using an internet forum for touring cyclists, not disimilar to the HUBB we arranged a bicycle tour along the river Rhine in Germany. It was a great tour, camping every night next to the river. Being free. Just like here. Now. Eight years later on the river Nile in Sudan. In all the years in between both of us kept travelling. Sometimes together. Often separately. But we stayed in contact. Even after me moving to Australia seven years ago. If you are into adventure it is not easy to find the perfect travel partner. I'm glad that Martin and me, we are a good team.

I'm also heaps happy with my new camera. Good to be able to take photos again. So let's see if this internet connection can deal with uploading them.

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You just have to love them - small desert track

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The old temple site of Naqa

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These old Bedford trucks serve as buses along the unpaved routes.

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Some desert tracks are quite corrugated.

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Two bikes in the desert

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Playing with my new camera - a long exposure moonlight photo of Musawwarat Temple

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Martin's 20 year old Africa Twin having just as much fun in the desert as my little Suzuki.

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Gravel road. Literally.

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Shendi is quite a big and busy town on the river Nile.

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These ancient Landcruisers are the backbone of short distance public transport or for really bad tracks. I like their unique colourful design.

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Pyramids in the desert - the Southern part of Meroe

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There are many more pyramids in the Northern part of Meroe. I was the only visitor during the two hours I spent on site. Not a single other person around.

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Some pyramids are in better shape than others. The one on the right hand side deteriorated into a big pile of rubble during the centuries.

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This is a great novelty for us in Sudan. Cool drinking water in good quality is available virtually every few km along the road for free from these earthenware pots. There is always a cup next to them which can be used for drinking or to scoop up water for our water bottles.

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Sunset over the river Nile near Ed Damer.

Another awesome day in Sudan just passed. It's 8:30pm now and it's really hot. Typing this I'm not inside my tent now. But outside. Sitting under a clear sky right next to my little Suzuki.
We are still on our rush through Sudan. On Wednesday we need to get onto the ferry to Aswan in Egypt. It's easy to get on for us. But, according to other overlanders, it's a nightmare to get the bikes on board as well. We have been very lucky in these things so far. So hopefully on Wednesday everything goes well too.
During the last few days we have been riding some amazing desert routes. Things have changed in Sudan. And there are a lot of brand new tarmac roads and bridges now. Much different from what the map or the guidebook or the GPS says. And it's a stunning scenery here. Most of our routes crossed flat deserts. Flat and orange. Or flat and yellow. Or flat and brown. Always flat to the horizon. Divided into two equally flat areas by a black straight line of bitumen. This picture goes on for hours. Without any houses, any people in between. And it's hot, so hot. Even though we avoid the mid day heat, usually having an extended lunch or some coffee, it's still hot. When you ride along these lonely roads with some 80km/h it feels like someone is holding a huge hairdryer against you. The air rushing past you with 80km/h feels hot on your skin. The wind will not cool you down. It just dries you out. Sometimes the wind will blow little clouds of sand onto the road. Sand clouds which seem to dance across the tarmac like little transparent yellow ghosts. And which magically change their ghostly pattern when you rush through them on your bike. We drink water in insane quantities here. Water which is available in big earthenware pots everywhere. We know it comes from the Nile river. People promise us it's filtered. But there is clearly stuff floating around in there. People drink it. So we drink it too. It's cool and tasteless. No problems so far.

We met some really friendly people yesterday evening. While Martin was waiting for me on the road a little yellow car stopped next to him and the guys inside invited us for tea at their home. It turned out to be a lovely evening. There was one lady who spent much time in Canada and spoke perfect English. The whole family seemed to be very well off and well travelled. We chatted well into the dark hours, the invite for tea extended to an invite for home cooked dinner and even an invite to camp in the backyard of their uncle (who was currently overseas). Two of our new friends would join us that night, just moving two of the uncle's beds into the backyard and sleep there in the open.

Today felt like the hottest of all days. So hot that Martin's GPS blacked out. Our water bottles, filled up with cool water from the earthenware pots very quickly contain hot water. Too hot to drink. How do people live here? It's not even summer yet, not even close to. There is hardly any shade. Parking the bikes for a few minutes means the seat will become too hot to sit on, the handlebar levers too hot to use and the helmet too hot to wear. But today we found the perfect hiding from the heat. At a little sidearm of the Nile, near the 3rd cataract we noticed a group of local kids swimming. So into the water we went. I guess I spent two hours in there. It's been just the perfect temperature, cold enough to keep you cool, warm enough to spend hours in there without being cold.
Along the way we visited some more historic sites. I don't want to bore you with lots of historical details. But there are many pyramids, royal tombs, temples and ancient ruined cities around to keep you busy. Most of fhem are decayed to a degree that it is hard to imagine the former glory of the place. Many are neglected. All are lonely places in the desert. Today we walked through the rubble of the old city of Jebel Sesibi. It's a big area of ruins on top of a hill overlooking the Nile. Great view from up there. What I found fascinating there was that we walked over so many bits and pieces of broken pottery. It's just lying on the ground. Big pieces and small pieces, some with colour, others without. Some still with some art work carved in. Just there on the ground. No one around, no one cares. We could have easily collected whole bags full of ancient pottery, pottery that is many times as old as the independend country of Australia.
Since yesterday we have been following the Nile on the Western side. Going North from Dongola it's all gravel road. Or compressed sand. Sometimes also loose sand. And again heaps fun to ride. I'm still surprised where you can go with motorbikes. And how much we have already learned riding them. Only a year ago I would not have thought it's possible. A big part of the path today was flooded by some irrigation gone wrong. So we had to detour around it. Through deep undisturbed desert sand. Crossing two steep walled irrigation channels, one filled with water. Gaining momentum through the deep sand, flying up the steep southern sidewall, down into the flowing water with a splash, using the same momentum to keep going up the northern embankment while mud is flying in a big arc from the spinning back wheel and rolling back down into the unspoiled desert sand. No problem on a motorbike.
Have you ever heard of Blackflies? There are millions of them here! They are tiny little bastards. They are harmless and do not bite. But in the mornings and in the evenings there is whole clouds of them, keen to explore your body with their tiny itching feet, crawling into your ears and your eyes and your nose and your mouth. During the little time it takes to open your water bottle and put it to your mouth you will already find a couple of them floating in your water fighting against a drowing death. But as soon as the sun goes down they magically disappear.
We are now only some 250km from Wadi Halfa. Where our short Sudan adventure comes to an end. People say it is the most aweful border crossing in Africa. We shall see.

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Riding through the desert is an awesome experience. When you're watching this picture from your comfy chair in your office, just imagine how hot is here. There is a constant hot wind from your right hand side blowing little flat sand devils onto the black tarmac. I guess you can also imagine the smell of the sweat running down your skin and mixing with the thick layer of sunscreen. But riding your motorbike through this endless landscape - man, you feel free, SO free. Probably even more than at the comfy chair in your office.

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My little Suzuki and the royal tombs at Jebel Barkal

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We spent many hours riding through the Nubian Desert between Karima and Dongola.

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One night we were invited to camp in the backyard of some newly found Sudanese friends. They themselves joined us by just moving two beds outside and sleeping in the open.

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Riding through a typical Nubian village in Northern Sudan

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From the hilltop ruins of Jebel Sesibi you have a great view into the Nile valley and the little villages with the big mosques along the river banks.

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Nubian architecture involves small open houses within big yards surrounded by walls.

Cheers Joe_Strummer, it's good to be able to take photos again. My new camera is a Canon EOS550. A much cooler model than my old EOS450. So cool in fact that there are more pics than texts in this upload…


Cheers from Wadi Halfa, Sudan

The Titanic effect
 

Sometimes you get more than you bargained for. It applies to our Africa trip much more than ever.
Leaving Sudan was much more adventurous than expected. It all started very easy. We found a good fixer to help us with all the paperwork. Many other overlanders describe the border crossing between Sudan and Egypt as the worst nightmare they experienced in Africa. The only way to travel between the two countries is the ferry between Wadi Halfa on the Sudanese side and Aswan in Egypt, a 17 hours boat trip on Lake Nasser. There is only one boat per week. And if you have a vehicle the amount of paperwork you need to do drives many travellers into sheer madness. However, thanks to our smart fixer Martin and me, we arrived in Wadi Halfa on Tuesday. And on Wednesday both of us and both of our bikes were on board the passenger boat to Aswan.
It's quite a decent sized boat, there were some 500 people on board. And lots and lots of luggage. Some people arrived with huge bags of firewood, some sort of grain and whatever else. Our bikes had to be sqeezed into the entrance doorway once everyone was on board. The fact that the bikes effectively made the exit impassable in an emergency did not seem to worry anyone. Why would there be an emergency anyway.
Our boat departed at around 5pm that Wednesday and a routine quickly developed. Martin and me and the other few overlanders on board stayed outside on the open top deck to enjoy the scenery. Most other people crowded downstairs in the hot and sticky common areas. The restaurant served some oily beans and bread with not much taste. In front of our bikes a small market appeared with women selling spices and small items. All spread out on some colourful sheets on the ground. Lots of people crowding around the bikes, items stored on top of our bikes. A really African atmosphere developed on board. Wherever we went on the boat there were people chatting, people eating, people smoking, people sleeping. Up outside on the top deck some Polish overlanders pitched a tent which heavily moved in the strong wind. Up there it was also the place for prayer. When the Imman announced prayer time over the loudspeakers big crowds gathered on the top deck, spread their little carpets and prayed facing the east coast of Lake Nasser. After watching a beautiful sunset we crossed the invisible water border to Egypt. Announced by big spotlights shining on the majestic temple of Abu Simbel right on the West shores. The huge statues of Ramses IV shining into the darkness of the surrounding desert and the lake. Rolling out our warm sleeping bags in a sheltered corner of the top deck we soon fell asleep under a clear sky full of stars.
At around 5am the next morning the loud voice of the imman out of the speakers woke us from our sleep. And soon a big crowd was praying next to us while we pretended to sleep in our corner. Watching the stars at the time I was wondering why they no longer prayed towards the East. Because now, according to the Polar Star our ship was heading East. Minutes later I was asleep again.
Just minutes after that an almighty rumbling noise of steel grinding onto something woke us up, the ship moving violently. People jumped up from their sleep. It was still dark. The boat leaning signinficantly to it's right hand side. And the back of the boat well below where it should be. Everything was now on some weird angle. What happened? Did we hit another boat? But there are no other boats on Lake Nasser. Announcements were made in Arabic language over the speaker. People nervously scrambled around the old timber boxes with the life jackets inside. Martin, looking at the lower deck at the back saw the rear of the ship being flooded. Shit. Whatever just happened, it wasn't good. More people in life vests crowded the upper deck nervously looking down the sides of the vessel into the darkness below.
What do you do? The boat was sinking. Just not yet. There might be more minutes. Or hours. Or it might not sink after all. But the leaning angle and the water in the rear seemed a clear sign. What to do? What to take? I just grabbed my passport, my credit card and the backup memory chip with all my Africa pics and stuffed it into my pockets. With our lifevests on we waited for the things to come. By now news spread around that we hit a rock.
We waited and nothing happened. The ship did not change it's leaning angle. The water level at the rear remained constant. The mood on board calmed down. And the sun started to rise.
Now having daylight the rock in the water was clearly visible to all. It sticked out of the water by maybe a meter. And continued underneath the surface as yellowish haze in the dark waters. Our ship sat on the part that sticked out of the water, the front well above the water surface. On the right hand side of that piece of rock. We seemed to be in a stable position but stuck. And alone. On both sides the coastline seemed much too far away as to be able to swim there. And what we saw was only desert. Yellow sand dunes against a blue sky. No mobile phone reception of any network.
With nothing better to do I started filling my small backpack with things I knew I could not replace so easily in Egypt. Like my documents, my little computer, my camera. My diary. Some presents collected during the journey. And my cash money. I was hundret percent sure that at this day my luggage would need to be left behind. And also my little Suzuki. During the collision Martin's bike fell against mine. At the same time as some people fell out of their beds. Martin put both bikes back on their side stand. The little market around them disappeared. Someone placed a life vest onto my little Suzuki. Would that help?
As far as I knew our boat was the only vessel on the lake. Apart from some slow freigt barges. And some small Police boats. How should we ever get 500 people back to dry land? Or our poor motorbikes deep down on the first deck? Blocking the exit?
And so we waited. And as we waited the situation on board calmed down more and more. Roumors spread. Like there will be another boat arriving at our position in four hours from Aswan. Or that there will be no boat. Or that there will be Police boats ferrying the passengers across. The Polish guys using a satellite phone. And also some Spanish overlanders talking to their embassy. One Egyptian passenger borrowing the satellite phone to call All Jazeihra. As he said - without the press nothing would ever happen. And nothing did happen. Arguments developed on board. With people fighting. And calming down again. The sun was shining and a cool breeze kept temperatures comfortable. At around ten o'clock the news seemed to consolidate around the fact that another vessel was on the way from Aswan to arrive here at 2pm. By now the food in the restaurant was finished. Also the tea bags. Only instant tea was still being served. People started taking their life vests off.
The mood on board was now litterally the famous 'we are all in one boat'. Many people talked to us. About many things, mostly about Egypt. And Islam. Many people kept praying. We were all alone out there on a rock on Lake Nasser, the 500 of us. The GPS showed our position miles away East of the usual course. We were now inside a bay of the Lake. And waited for help.
There is nothing we could do apart from waiting. It's such a helpless feeling. You don't know what happens to the boat. Rumours spread that if we had hit the rock just a bit more to the right the ship would have rolled onto it's side. Wind and waves could still do that. Or the pointless attempts of the captain to revers the boat off the rock with full engine power. We had no impact on whatever would happen to us. The knowledge of this really calmed me down. I don't know why but I hardly ever felt so calm as back then. Calm and also extremely aware of everything around us. Looking into the faces of our fellow passengers and knowing that most of them don't know how to swim. There was the young blind guy, being helped by an older man but always smiling. There were the ladies who the night before had their own little market stalls around our motorbikes on the lower deck. Still dressed into their colourful cotton sheets, sitting underneath the life rafts chatting. There was the Imman constantly praying with his little string of marbles in his hand. And so many more people with such an uncertain future at the time. Having my little backpack within reach I knew all I could do was done. Now it's just waiting.
It was around 3pm when two small outboarder speed boats arrived. Full with Police people who boarded via the sunken rear deck. And then, just after that, a small grey dot appeared on the horizon South West of us. An announcement was made that this was our rescue. The identical sister ship of ours. 'When boarding please take the same posotion as on our current ship'. It still took a long time for that grey dot to show the outlines of a ship and finally arrive. Although Aswan was to our North the ship came from the South because it had overshot our location by many km and had to turn back. Finally, 12 long hours after we hit the rock another ship carefully docked right next to us. I thought if worse had happend that morning these 12 hours would have had a very deadly potential for many of us.
Calmly but completely unorganised people started to jump across to the new ship on all decks. The two ships laid side by side, railings touching each other. With a significant height difference at the front and the rear.
Luggage was thrown across. Someone moved our motorbikes out of the way and crowds of people streamed through the door into the other ship. We were promised we can move the bikes across too once everyone else was on board. So we should be the last passengers to leave. No worries.
By design the only doors of the ships were located at the front part. The part which was raised by our ship resting on the rock. So even though the two doors of the two ships met horizontaly there was a step in height of around half meter. Which means the top of the door of the new boat was around half a meter below ours. And the bottom of our door half a meter above theirs. Which reduced the clearance of the way through by a meter. Enough to not fit the bikes through so easily. It took a lot of people to help, we had to turn down the mirrors, Martin had to take of the windshield. And still it was not easy to get the bikes through in the hot sticky air of the lower deck. Eventually though both bikes were parked across the exit door of the new boat again. With only minor damage and scratches. All good.
Now our new boat attempted to pull out the stuck boat from the rocks. Connecting the two with a long steel cable. The stuck boat in full revers power. Our boat steaming forwards. The steel cable snapped instantly. The stuck boat not moving. Our boat neither. Looked like the snapped cable did some damage to our propellers. Divers were sent down. While we were eating tasteless beans on board, courtesy to the shipping company. It took another hour till we finally got on our way again. Just when the sun went down at 7pm we were cruising North the four to five hour trip to Aswan. At around 9pm I was sleeping back on the top deck again under a clear sky of stars. Stirred up from the events of the day sleeping was not easy. Hours later excited shouting woke us up. 'ASWAN' people screamed at each other happily. It was now 11pm. Many came to us saying 'Welcome to Egypt'. 'Thanks and welcome home for you' I replied.
The same night all of us had to clear immigration, get all our luggage off board. Including the bikes. Which we parked at the Customs area. We would not see them again till Saturday. Customs was closed on Fridays. For all foreigners the shipping company arranged free accommodation in Aswan for two nights. While unloading local journalists started interviewing us.
Finally, after 3am on Friday morning we were sitting on our beds of the cheap hotel room. Happy to be there, so happy.
Saturday we hope to clear all the documents for our bikes. It's incredibly complicated and we hope that our fixer can help us here two so we can finish everything in one day. Fingers crossed. Welcome to Egypt.

Sudan - Egypt border crossing
 

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Arriving in Wadi Halfa, our last town in Sudan

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Parking the bikes in the exit way like this would not be possible in Australia. But here we were instructed to do so. Who expected an emergency?

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After we hit the rock - people scrambling on the open top deck where we were sleeping that night

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Looking down the side of the ship. The rock clearly visible under water.

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The part of the rock sticking out of the water had now a big ship sitting on it.

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12 hours after our accident the MV Sinai arrived to our rescue. It was the identical sister ship to ours. It was also the first time ever I have been rescued.

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Looking back at our original ship still stuck on the rock. The front raised out of the water and the rear very close to the lake surface. Small Police vessels managing the scene.

Wow!! Quite an adventure Marco. I'm glad you got rescued. I was afraid while I was reading this story that you two would have to leave your bikes on board the ferry. Whew! Good luck with immigration. Grant Johnson's account of the trials and tribulations he went through getting into Egypt make that place sound like the bureaucracy there is terrible. Be safe!!

Ron (USA)

Bloody Nora, what a yarn to tell when your old and grey that will be.