Day 136
Sleeping location: Unknown guesthouse, Abala, Ethiopia
Distance (km today/total): 0 / 10494
Estimated climb (m today/total): 0 / 70200
Driving: approx 8hrs
Distance (km today/total): 0 / 10494
Estimated climb (m today/total): 0 / 70200
Driving: approx 8hrs
Day in three words: Rock, salt, kids
We were awoken at 5.30am to walk back up to the crater. In the dawn light we could properly see its size; it was maybe 100m across and 50m deep, with sheer sides. This crater, and other smaller ones, were all inside a much bigger crater that was maybe 1km across. Each of these are remnants of previous eruptions, which there are a lot of. We walked up a small peak caused by a previous eruption and watched the sun rise over the lava field of swirling black shapes. In the distance were smoking vents and another patch of glowing lava. It was an incredible landscape, lifeless and like another planet.
After an hour we asked back down to “base camp” and had breakfast, which involved loads of pancakes, then drove back along the dirt road to the tarmac road. Instead of going back west we went the other way across flat desert, and soon arrived at the beautiful saline Lake Afrera. It was lovely to splash around in it, although not too vigorously as it hurt to get it in your eyes. Due to hot springs it was a lovely mixture of hot and cool water, and we floated around for a while - whilst not as salty and floaty as the Dead Sea, it was still easy to keep your head above water*. As an added bonus there was a freshwater hot spring next to the lake, which was a delightful place to rinse off in. We had lunch nearby, where a goat lingered around our (inside) table before pouncing on Sean’s leftover spinach. It gobbled it down in seconds, even putting its front legs up on the table for more engaged munching.
After lunch we had a long drive all the way back the way we’d come (the tour contained a LOT of driving), to the guesthouse we had lunch at the day before. When we stopped in a small town a small kid tried to kung fu kick me then ran away.
At the guesthouse we were luckily given a room for just the four of us. The other farenji hung around the guesthouse but we decided to go and explore the town for a bit. Immediately we were adopted by a horde of young kids who took a shine to us, and particularly to Sean thanks to his seemingly limitless energy for lifting them up into the air and swinging them round. One of them had a Barcelona shirt with “Misse” on the back. We went into a bar, thinking they wouldn’t follow us, but about 10 came in and immediately all started dancing wildly to the music until they were chased away by the owner wielding a broom. It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Even better, after a couple of beers we realised that the bar was also the town’s hotel and brothel. One of the children came to tell us that dinner was ready at the guesthouse, and a patron solemnly told us that we needed to go with the children because the streets were dangerous. On the way back Sean lifted one of the kids into the air directly under a wooden beam and whacked his head, but to his immense credit he didn’t cry at all. They breed them tough round here, which is probably why the kids were able to keep us safe on the five minute walk back to the guesthouse.
Dinner was a surprisingly tasty mixture of Ethiopian bits and bobs, including some phenomenal flatbreads. One of the young children of the guesthouse owner again took a shine to Sean** and asked to be lifted into the air about 50 times. After this a bond was formed and when we were playing cards he sneaked into the room, sat on the mattress next to Rebecca and silently watched us. Whilst still watching us he removed his sandals and started to bite his toenails; upon successfully removing a toenail he wasn’t sure what to do with it, so placed it into the pocket of the formal dinner jacket he was wearing over his tshirt. At this point Rebecca noticed that his sandals were made by “Abibos” and it all got too much and we had to remove him from the room in fits of laughter. After all this hilarity, plus two bottles of wine and some beers, our cards got very silly, culminating in a game of Higher or Lower with the modifiers:
-Aces low
-3: “highest of the high”
-Queen: “lowest of the low”
-Jack: lower than a queen
-6: make a noise like a chicken then carry out the rest of your go in the style of a chicken
*And also my cut foot, which did not appreciate being submerged in brine for ages
**a Seanshine
We were awoken at 5.30am to walk back up to the crater. In the dawn light we could properly see its size; it was maybe 100m across and 50m deep, with sheer sides. This crater, and other smaller ones, were all inside a much bigger crater that was maybe 1km across. Each of these are remnants of previous eruptions, which there are a lot of. We walked up a small peak caused by a previous eruption and watched the sun rise over the lava field of swirling black shapes. In the distance were smoking vents and another patch of glowing lava. It was an incredible landscape, lifeless and like another planet.
After an hour we asked back down to “base camp” and had breakfast, which involved loads of pancakes, then drove back along the dirt road to the tarmac road. Instead of going back west we went the other way across flat desert, and soon arrived at the beautiful saline Lake Afrera. It was lovely to splash around in it, although not too vigorously as it hurt to get it in your eyes. Due to hot springs it was a lovely mixture of hot and cool water, and we floated around for a while - whilst not as salty and floaty as the Dead Sea, it was still easy to keep your head above water*. As an added bonus there was a freshwater hot spring next to the lake, which was a delightful place to rinse off in. We had lunch nearby, where a goat lingered around our (inside) table before pouncing on Sean’s leftover spinach. It gobbled it down in seconds, even putting its front legs up on the table for more engaged munching.
After lunch we had a long drive all the way back the way we’d come (the tour contained a LOT of driving), to the guesthouse we had lunch at the day before. When we stopped in a small town a small kid tried to kung fu kick me then ran away.
At the guesthouse we were luckily given a room for just the four of us. The other farenji hung around the guesthouse but we decided to go and explore the town for a bit. Immediately we were adopted by a horde of young kids who took a shine to us, and particularly to Sean thanks to his seemingly limitless energy for lifting them up into the air and swinging them round. One of them had a Barcelona shirt with “Misse” on the back. We went into a bar, thinking they wouldn’t follow us, but about 10 came in and immediately all started dancing wildly to the music until they were chased away by the owner wielding a broom. It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Even better, after a couple of beers we realised that the bar was also the town’s hotel and brothel. One of the children came to tell us that dinner was ready at the guesthouse, and a patron solemnly told us that we needed to go with the children because the streets were dangerous. On the way back Sean lifted one of the kids into the air directly under a wooden beam and whacked his head, but to his immense credit he didn’t cry at all. They breed them tough round here, which is probably why the kids were able to keep us safe on the five minute walk back to the guesthouse.
Dinner was a surprisingly tasty mixture of Ethiopian bits and bobs, including some phenomenal flatbreads. One of the young children of the guesthouse owner again took a shine to Sean** and asked to be lifted into the air about 50 times. After this a bond was formed and when we were playing cards he sneaked into the room, sat on the mattress next to Rebecca and silently watched us. Whilst still watching us he removed his sandals and started to bite his toenails; upon successfully removing a toenail he wasn’t sure what to do with it, so placed it into the pocket of the formal dinner jacket he was wearing over his tshirt. At this point Rebecca noticed that his sandals were made by “Abibos” and it all got too much and we had to remove him from the room in fits of laughter. After all this hilarity, plus two bottles of wine and some beers, our cards got very silly, culminating in a game of Higher or Lower with the modifiers:
-Aces low
-3: “highest of the high”
-Queen: “lowest of the low”
-Jack: lower than a queen
-6: make a noise like a chicken then carry out the rest of your go in the style of a chicken
*And also my cut foot, which did not appreciate being submerged in brine for ages
**a Seanshine
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