Day 163
Sleeping location: Riyad Hotel, Worabe/Gorabee, Ethiopia
Distance (km today/total): 92 / 11635
Estimated climb (m today/total): 700 / 86300
Age of the graves: nobody is sure
Distance (km today/total): 92 / 11635
Estimated climb (m today/total): 700 / 86300
Age of the graves: nobody is sure
Day in three words: A Flickering Farce
The previous day we had clocked that there was a UNESCO world heritage site basically in the middle of Tiya, so after breakfast we went to check it out. The Tiya Stelae Field is a bunch of carved stones (stelae) marking the site of a load of graves. Nobody seems to know how old it is but between 1000 and 700 years is the general consensus. At the empty site we had to seemingly wake some guys up to let us in, and then negotiated the entrance fee. It didn’t feel like they got many visitors. The stones did have some interesting carvings, and a nice man appeared (unrequested) to explain what they meant. He was very enthusiastic, especially when telling us about the phallic and “pointed breasts” symbols*, and at one point he got behind a stone to show us what he would look like with pointed breasts. There were three sets of stones and he showed us round two, when we asked about seeing the third he said “eh no they are all the same” and then said his goodbyes. He didn’t ask for any money though, so we can’t complain.
The grave adventure only took about an hour but due to extreme faff we still didn’t leave until 11am. The riding and landscape was more of the same uneventful stuff as the day before, rolling hills on a bumpy road through wheat and scattered trees. There were a couple of longer gradual hills with the according long gradual descents, which were fun but slightly death defying thanks to the bumpy and occasionally potholed surface. Rebecca and I are finding it much easier to ride together now that riding is flatter, and this is reducing the hassle for both of us but especially for her; the kids don’t really mess with her when she has a stern bodyguard nearby. Today’s hassle was the usual flavour, but nothing aggressive again.
We got to the town of Worabe/Gorabee, which confusingly has different names on google and komoot, and found a standard “mid range hotel that you find in a big ish town in Ethiopia” without fuss. The main problem with the room (apart from the fact that OBVIOUSLY the hot water didn’t work) was that the main light flickered when it was allegedly switched off. I mentioned this to an employee and here began a farce worthy of Fawlty Towers.
The Ballad of Fat Man and Thin Man
Two men come to fix the light; let’s call them Fat Man and Thin Man. I show them that it is clearly an issue with the electrical supply, as the bathroom light is doing it too. They nod and decide to examine the light fitting anyway. Fat Man tries to stand on the bedside table to access it, but it/he is too short, so the two of them move the TV and our stuff off the table and move that into position. Fat Man gets up on the table and examines the light fitting, which is secured by three peg things. He spins the light cover, which is still within the grasp of the pegs, so obviously nothing happens. Ever the optimist, Fat Man continues to aimlessly spin the cover for several revolutions. Nothing happens, and he is stumped. Thin Man gets up there and figures out that the pegs can be removed, so he removes them and then the light cover. Fat Man gets back up there - lights are his speciality, you know. His first idea is to move the bulb from one socket to the other empty one in the fitting. This has no effect, because the problem is with the electrical supply, as I continue to tell them. He then tries unscrewing the bulb until the flickering stops. Success! He asks me to turn the light back on. It does not turn on, because the bulb is no longer screwed into the light fitting. He solves this by screwing the bulb back in until it comes on. Then he asks me to turn the light off. The light flickers once more, because The Problem Is With The Electrical Supply. Undeterred, Fat Man tries this twice more, perhaps reasoning that he just has to screw it in the exactly right amount. It does not work. By this point I am wondering if Fat Man thinks that lights are powered by love or something. Fat Man and Thin Man confer, then leave. Thin Man returns with a different bulb, because perhaps the bulb is the problem (it isn’t). Fat Man is no longer present, perhaps requiring a lie down after all that hard thinking. Thin Man puts in the new bulb, which flickers because THE PROBLEM IS WITH THE ELECTRICAL SUPPLY, but this bulb is much less bright and its flickering is faint enough that it will be ok for sleeping. I tell Thin Man it’s ok, and he looks very pleased with himself, which is like being pleased with your decision to fix your car’s transmission by trading it in for a moped. Thin Man puts the table and its items back in approximately the right place, then leaves, and I breathe a sigh of relief that I didn’t murder either of them during this escapade.
*He pronounced it “breastus” which was also great.
The previous day we had clocked that there was a UNESCO world heritage site basically in the middle of Tiya, so after breakfast we went to check it out. The Tiya Stelae Field is a bunch of carved stones (stelae) marking the site of a load of graves. Nobody seems to know how old it is but between 1000 and 700 years is the general consensus. At the empty site we had to seemingly wake some guys up to let us in, and then negotiated the entrance fee. It didn’t feel like they got many visitors. The stones did have some interesting carvings, and a nice man appeared (unrequested) to explain what they meant. He was very enthusiastic, especially when telling us about the phallic and “pointed breasts” symbols*, and at one point he got behind a stone to show us what he would look like with pointed breasts. There were three sets of stones and he showed us round two, when we asked about seeing the third he said “eh no they are all the same” and then said his goodbyes. He didn’t ask for any money though, so we can’t complain.
The grave adventure only took about an hour but due to extreme faff we still didn’t leave until 11am. The riding and landscape was more of the same uneventful stuff as the day before, rolling hills on a bumpy road through wheat and scattered trees. There were a couple of longer gradual hills with the according long gradual descents, which were fun but slightly death defying thanks to the bumpy and occasionally potholed surface. Rebecca and I are finding it much easier to ride together now that riding is flatter, and this is reducing the hassle for both of us but especially for her; the kids don’t really mess with her when she has a stern bodyguard nearby. Today’s hassle was the usual flavour, but nothing aggressive again.
We got to the town of Worabe/Gorabee, which confusingly has different names on google and komoot, and found a standard “mid range hotel that you find in a big ish town in Ethiopia” without fuss. The main problem with the room (apart from the fact that OBVIOUSLY the hot water didn’t work) was that the main light flickered when it was allegedly switched off. I mentioned this to an employee and here began a farce worthy of Fawlty Towers.
The Ballad of Fat Man and Thin Man
Two men come to fix the light; let’s call them Fat Man and Thin Man. I show them that it is clearly an issue with the electrical supply, as the bathroom light is doing it too. They nod and decide to examine the light fitting anyway. Fat Man tries to stand on the bedside table to access it, but it/he is too short, so the two of them move the TV and our stuff off the table and move that into position. Fat Man gets up on the table and examines the light fitting, which is secured by three peg things. He spins the light cover, which is still within the grasp of the pegs, so obviously nothing happens. Ever the optimist, Fat Man continues to aimlessly spin the cover for several revolutions. Nothing happens, and he is stumped. Thin Man gets up there and figures out that the pegs can be removed, so he removes them and then the light cover. Fat Man gets back up there - lights are his speciality, you know. His first idea is to move the bulb from one socket to the other empty one in the fitting. This has no effect, because the problem is with the electrical supply, as I continue to tell them. He then tries unscrewing the bulb until the flickering stops. Success! He asks me to turn the light back on. It does not turn on, because the bulb is no longer screwed into the light fitting. He solves this by screwing the bulb back in until it comes on. Then he asks me to turn the light off. The light flickers once more, because The Problem Is With The Electrical Supply. Undeterred, Fat Man tries this twice more, perhaps reasoning that he just has to screw it in the exactly right amount. It does not work. By this point I am wondering if Fat Man thinks that lights are powered by love or something. Fat Man and Thin Man confer, then leave. Thin Man returns with a different bulb, because perhaps the bulb is the problem (it isn’t). Fat Man is no longer present, perhaps requiring a lie down after all that hard thinking. Thin Man puts in the new bulb, which flickers because THE PROBLEM IS WITH THE ELECTRICAL SUPPLY, but this bulb is much less bright and its flickering is faint enough that it will be ok for sleeping. I tell Thin Man it’s ok, and he looks very pleased with himself, which is like being pleased with your decision to fix your car’s transmission by trading it in for a moped. Thin Man puts the table and its items back in approximately the right place, then leaves, and I breathe a sigh of relief that I didn’t murder either of them during this escapade.
*He pronounced it “breastus” which was also great.
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