Angels of Ethiopia

From all I have written about Ethiopia so far, it should be already clear that the main problem we find again and again in this country is its people, particularly children and teenagers. Since the day we arrived and until today when I write these lines, already several months after having left, I have been trying to understand, to find a coherent explanation for this abhorrent behaviour. I don’t know if I have found an answer which explains all my questions (and frustrations), and probably there is not just one but several answers, but through talking to people I consider clever I have probably got closer to the beginning of an understanding. This post is dedicated to these people, whom I like calling the “angels of Ethiopia”.

Faith with Ethiopian flavor

Warning: many of the commentaries and opinions that you will be about to read might sound very harsh, but I promise they are the most accurate account of the frequently miserable experience that is crossing Ethiopia by bicycle. Given the radical difference that exists between those of us who travel by bicycle across this country (and those who walk the world too) and those who travel by any kind of motorised transport, I don't feel particularly well predisposed to accept any objections coming from those who haven't crossed it in the same way.

The Tigray region was the main reason, if not the only one, why our route across Ethiopia was almost double the distance that takes to cross the country along the shortest route. The one that pretty much everyone else takes. From the very beginning, my thoughts were that if we were going to have to suffer Ethiopia anyway, then we'd better doing it trying to find a way to compensate the bad with the best the country has to offer. In my specific case, I had been dreaming for years to visit this enigmatic region of the world of ancient religious practices and exquisite vernacular architecture. We arrived there with a very irritated spirit and filled with susceptibility after having accomplished the exhausting long odyssey of the “route of the Italians”, but believing once again that in this remote province everything would be much more relaxed. Once again, we believed wrong....

GIVE ME!

Warning: many of the commentaries and opinions that you will be about to read might sound very harsh, but I promise they are the most accurate account of the frequently miserable experience that is crossing Ethiopia by bicycle. Given the radical difference that exists between those of us who travel by bicycle across this country (and those who walk the world too) and those who travel by any kind of motorised transport, I don't feel particularly well predisposed to accept any objections coming from those who haven't crossed it in the same way.

In Gondar, little less than 200 km after having entered Ethiopia, is where the route that I had planned would split from the one that virtually all cyclists going through the country use. Although this involved almost duplicating the distance that it would take us to ride across the country, staying away from the comforts of the main highways, taking us across very tough roads in bad condition, the truth is that the Tigray route would also take us through one of the most fascinating corners of this country and its culture. At the same time, I believed that the more remote we went taking small tracks along which very few foreigners are seen passing by, it would make our lives much easier in this difficult country. I believed wrong....

YOU!

Warning: many of the commentaries and opinions that you will be about to read might sound very harsh, but I promise they are the most accurate account of the frequently miserable experience that is crossing Ethiopia by bicycle. Given the radical difference that exists between those of us who travel by bicycle across this country (and those who walk the world too) and those who travel by any kind of motorised transport, I don't feel particularly well predisposed to accept any objections coming from those who haven't crossed it in the same way.

The task of reading, researching and asking about a country that we are planning to visit always precedes the arrival to it and it is task that takes an undetermined amount of time. We dream, we inform ourselves, we learn and we procure to know as much as possible beforehand for things to turn out as smoothly as possible. In the case of Ethiopia, unlike most other countries, the information we obtain through other cyclists and walkers that have passed through, paints a grim picture, with stories that abound in hardships, frustrations and wild tales. After having read much of what has been written about it, it is hard to think of the motives that might lead someone to actually want to ride a bicycle across this country. Even worse, it is impossible to imagine who in his/her right mind would be willing to duplicate the amount of miles that are needed to cross it entirely using the fastest possible corridor and instead, choosing the most remote and inhospitable trails that will make everything slower and more painful. It is in this point where the adventurer ,the optimist, the idealist and also the naive in oneself all come together, to believe that if we approach a situation with the right attitude and the right quota of patience and tolerance, nothing can be that bad. It was with this very spirit and the extra positive energy with which the Sudanese had filled us with that we cross the border to Metema, the Ethiopian side of the border with Sudan.