Day 169
Sleeping location: Woito Lodge, Woito, Ethiopia
Distance (km today/total): 75 / 12079
Estimated climb (m today/total): 800 / 89500
Free condoms: 5
Distance (km today/total): 75 / 12079
Estimated climb (m today/total): 800 / 89500
Free condoms: 5
Day in three words: Entering the Omo
A combination of loud music, toilet trips, mosquitoes, fiddling with the mosquito net and a loud priest chant led to a blank space in my sleep between 3 and 5am, so we ended up sleeping in until 9am and being a bit stressed about getting away in time. I flipped Maggie over to do some work and noticed that both of her tyres are worn through to the blue inner shield thing in several places. I only have one spare tyre and I don’t want to pick favourites, so I’m just going to hope that they last until Kampala where I have some new ones waiting. Out of Konso we had to climb up a massive hill onto a hillside road with great views back down to the plains below. At the top was the Konso cultural museum, which I had wanted to go to until I realised I didn’t really like the Konso people. Their only apparent cultural traits are asking for money more aggressively than other Ethiopians and constantly trying to steal things from your bike. Mindful of this, I created some anti child defences which consisted of thorny twigs tucked into my rear pannier straps, to deter any little hands from reaching into them.
The next 35km was lovely cycling through rolling hills, most of them terraced for farming. The climbs got increasingly more punchy and the road worsened as we went on, with lots of loose gravel and some weird melted tar stuff. After my earlier insults the people were actually pretty friendly, albeit still very hands on, but the defences allowed me to relax when children chased. Begging, of which there is lots, now consists of just saying “OK” and holding a hand out. Whilst waiting for Rebecca I found some shade and peace in the unlikely form of an upturned lorry. It already had a man relaxing in it, but he wasn’t fussed about my arrival. When Rebecca arrived she immediately gave him some water because she’s nicer than me, so I felt bad and also gave him a (very melted) fake kitkat before leaving.
After the hills ended we had a big descent down into the Omo Valley, zippily covering 20km in about 35 minutes. It would have been even quicker but the road was in a bad way and also covered in livestock (standard Ethiopia). This brought us down to cycling below 1000m for the first time in 6 weeks and it was damn hot at the bottom. I stopped for lunch at a lodge and briefly met some Dutch guys motorcycling the other way, who gave me some good news about the route we are planning to take round Lake Turkana. Apparently it’s doable and only awful for about 10km. I also talked with a local guy named Alia who had a disconcerting resemblance to a young Samuel L Jackson and told me some interesting stuff about the local tribal customs. His dad was a witch doctor, which is way cooler than a plastic packaging expert (sorry dad).
After Rebecca arrived and we had lunch it was getting on 5pm and, as the next town was 40km up a 900m climb, we decided to stay the night at the lodge. It swiftly turned out to be a) actually a brothel, and b) way overpriced, but it was the only place in town* so we had to go for it. We got five free condoms in our room so I took them to ensure we got our money’s worth. I can give them out to begging children. Alia reappeared and we had a strange semi mystic chat, which was kind of a load of nonsense but it was interesting to hear his beliefs. As he left he informed me that he loves to drink the blood of a goat, direct from the goat, which is quite a thing. We also ate at the lodge, which was a mistake as the food took forever, although when it arrived and we saw that it had clearly been made by children this made more sense - they aren’t the quickest chefs.
*Actually it wasn’t, as we annoyingly realised the next day
A combination of loud music, toilet trips, mosquitoes, fiddling with the mosquito net and a loud priest chant led to a blank space in my sleep between 3 and 5am, so we ended up sleeping in until 9am and being a bit stressed about getting away in time. I flipped Maggie over to do some work and noticed that both of her tyres are worn through to the blue inner shield thing in several places. I only have one spare tyre and I don’t want to pick favourites, so I’m just going to hope that they last until Kampala where I have some new ones waiting. Out of Konso we had to climb up a massive hill onto a hillside road with great views back down to the plains below. At the top was the Konso cultural museum, which I had wanted to go to until I realised I didn’t really like the Konso people. Their only apparent cultural traits are asking for money more aggressively than other Ethiopians and constantly trying to steal things from your bike. Mindful of this, I created some anti child defences which consisted of thorny twigs tucked into my rear pannier straps, to deter any little hands from reaching into them.
The next 35km was lovely cycling through rolling hills, most of them terraced for farming. The climbs got increasingly more punchy and the road worsened as we went on, with lots of loose gravel and some weird melted tar stuff. After my earlier insults the people were actually pretty friendly, albeit still very hands on, but the defences allowed me to relax when children chased. Begging, of which there is lots, now consists of just saying “OK” and holding a hand out. Whilst waiting for Rebecca I found some shade and peace in the unlikely form of an upturned lorry. It already had a man relaxing in it, but he wasn’t fussed about my arrival. When Rebecca arrived she immediately gave him some water because she’s nicer than me, so I felt bad and also gave him a (very melted) fake kitkat before leaving.
After the hills ended we had a big descent down into the Omo Valley, zippily covering 20km in about 35 minutes. It would have been even quicker but the road was in a bad way and also covered in livestock (standard Ethiopia). This brought us down to cycling below 1000m for the first time in 6 weeks and it was damn hot at the bottom. I stopped for lunch at a lodge and briefly met some Dutch guys motorcycling the other way, who gave me some good news about the route we are planning to take round Lake Turkana. Apparently it’s doable and only awful for about 10km. I also talked with a local guy named Alia who had a disconcerting resemblance to a young Samuel L Jackson and told me some interesting stuff about the local tribal customs. His dad was a witch doctor, which is way cooler than a plastic packaging expert (sorry dad).
After Rebecca arrived and we had lunch it was getting on 5pm and, as the next town was 40km up a 900m climb, we decided to stay the night at the lodge. It swiftly turned out to be a) actually a brothel, and b) way overpriced, but it was the only place in town* so we had to go for it. We got five free condoms in our room so I took them to ensure we got our money’s worth. I can give them out to begging children. Alia reappeared and we had a strange semi mystic chat, which was kind of a load of nonsense but it was interesting to hear his beliefs. As he left he informed me that he loves to drink the blood of a goat, direct from the goat, which is quite a thing. We also ate at the lodge, which was a mistake as the food took forever, although when it arrived and we saw that it had clearly been made by children this made more sense - they aren’t the quickest chefs.
*Actually it wasn’t, as we annoyingly realised the next day
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