13 - 19 February 2020

• 13 Feb (34.6 km, 21.5 mi) - Metema to Shehibi

• 14 Feb (81.7 km, 50.8 mi) - Shehibi to Wild Camp

• 15 Feb (19.5 km, 12.2 mi) - Wild Camp to Aykel

• 16 Feb (62.9 km, 39.1 mi) - Aykel to Gonder

• 17-19 Feb - Rest days in Gondar

Up, Up and Away!

We’re definitely not on the plains any more. Over the past two months as we cycled across Egypt and Sudan, we slowly gained elevation. But for all practical purposes, our route was pretty close to being flat.

Not anymore. As soon as we entered Ethiopia, we were cycling into the hills. This is a mountainous country. And on our way to Gonder, we had to ascend onto the Ethiopian plateau, the highest land mass on the African continent. To reach the highlands we would have to climb a total of 3,425 m (11,250 ft) as the road undulated up and down an endless series of hills and ridges.

Our first day in Ethiopia, we decided that it would be wise to keep the ride relatively short because we needed to regain our “climbing legs” after so much cycling in the flatlands. We set off in the morning with the modest goal of cycling 35 km to the town of Shehibi. Even though we have cycled through some very mountainous terrain in the past on other continents, we were not sure how difficult this was going to be. Well, the first day wasn’t bad at all. Even with the long string of rolling hills, the elevation gain of 228 m (750 ft) was very manageable. The constant ups and downs reminded us of the Ozark Mountains in Missouri. It was a good way to build our confidence for the higher mountainous stages yet to come.

But What About the Kids?

Children in Ethiopia don’t have a great reputation in the cycling community. In some parts of the country, particularly in some rural villages, mobs of kids ranging in age from 4-15 years old can be a real problem. The worst incidents involve kids that try to steal things off of your bike, or throw stones at passing cyclists. We would be especially vulnerable when huffing and puffing slowly up one of the hills. Many of the kids, and even some adults, beg from any Westerner they see, shouting, “money, money, money, money!” when they see you.

We’re happy to say we didn’t have trouble with kids on the first day. There was a whole lot of shouting of “you, you, you, you!” (the uniquely Ethiopian way of trying to get the attention of strangers). But when the kids approached us, they mostly waved or came close for a high-five. We enjoyed the interactions with these kids.

One thing that caught our attention was that there were relatively few private vehicles in this part of Ethiopia - far fewer cars and pickup trucks than in Sudan and Egypt. Instead, the tuk-tuks seemed to provide inter-village taxi services - something they would never do in Sudan or Egypt. In those countries, cars or mini-buses were the standard mode of transportation between towns. Tuk-tuks were only used by people who were commuting within the village limits. In Ethiopia there are small a number of mini-buses, but there are far more tuk-tuks out on the roads, shuttling riders from village to village. That turned out to be a blessing. Tuk-tuks, with their tiny engines, can only drive so fast. And being small, narrow vehicles, they can easily pass a cyclist with a nice margin for safety. This made the lightly-traveled road in Ethiopia feel quite a bit safer than similar roads in Egypt and Sudan.

However, tuk-tuks are not that stable on the road. And sometimes the drivers would get rolling pretty fast, especially on downhill stretches. On our first day in Ethiopia, we came upon a crowd that had gathered on the road, about halfway down a steep incline. As we wound our way through the other cars and tuk-tuks, we saw the cause of the traffic jam. A tuk-tuk had run off the road into a ditch, probably because the driver lost control on a the steep descent. It was a good reminder that we need to be careful, even if the roads don’t have a lot of traffic.

Even with a late start in the morning, we rolled into Shehibi fairly early in the afternoon. That gave us time to relax before tackling a challenging ride we had planned for the next day. The hotel in Shehibi was even more basic than in Metema, with barely-functioning, cold water showers and a shared bathroom. It’s run by two sisters and their daughters. They’re very serious women, with an aloof style that can seem unfriendly at first. We’ve noticed that lots of women in Ethiopia are very reserved, and are not inclined to speak with strangers.

When I went down to the courtyard to ask them if we could get a towel, one of the older women invited me to join them for lunch. I sat with the circle of six women while they ate a communal meal of stew and injera, Ethiopia’s unique, sourdough bread. Even though I didn’t understand much of what they were saying, they made a point of speaking with me in their basic English so that I could learn their names, and they could show astonishment that I would travel by bicycle. It was fun.

In the evening, we went out for a walk around the town. Several strangers tried to engage us in conversation. But by now we are pretty wary of such unsolicited advances while traveling, because they usually lead to requests for money or high-pressure offers to sell stuff to us. For the most part we do our best to ignore them, or politely tell them we’re fine and don’t need their assistance. However, as we were headed back to the hotel, we were approached by a guy who didn’t seem to want to sell us anything. We decided to turn the tables and ask him for a favor in directing us to a good restaurant. He was more than happy to help and took us to a nice cafe that served pasta, which was pretty good. The best part was that they served cold, fresh mango juice. It was delicious.

He joined us for dinner, and sipped a Pepsi while we ate. We learned that he grew up in Shehibi, he was a retired bus driver (from the route between Addis Ababa and Khartoum), and that he taught himself English by checking out English-language books from the library, which is pretty impressive. He was a really nice guy, and we enjoyed visiting with him. After dinner he invited us to have a beer with him and his friends, but we weren’t keen on hanging out in a bar - so we declined.

The Long and Winding Road

The following day we had a big ride in front of us. The next town with a hotel, Aykel, was 100 km away. The route ascended from the northern lowlands up onto the Ethiopian highlands, including nearly 2,100 m (6,900 ft) of climbing and many gradients over 10%. Since we had heard that wild camping in this part of Ethiopia is a bad idea - we wanted to try to cover all 100 km in a single day.

We had also heard about a heavy military presence in this area. There are many police, military checkpoints, roadblocks, and men with automatic weapons walking the roads. The military presence stems from conflicts between tribal groups, as well as with the central government. Checkpoints can really slow down progress on a bike, and we are inclined to stop when folks carrying automatic weapons express their desire to talk. Other cyclists we know skipped this section of road and took a bus. We haven’t taken a bus or skipped riding any sections since leaving Cairo, and we had not heard of any recent problems. So we decided to cycle through.

At this point in the trip, we have passed though many police/military checkpoints (perhaps 100+) across Egypt, Sudan and Ethiopia. Usually we have to stop, answer a few questions, and show a copy of our passports. Once in a while, they ask to check our bags. In a few cases, long conversations ensue which are often more about entertaining bored policemen than anything important. But here, the military personnel were very serious. They had a definite search image which we apparently did not fit, since for the most part they didn’t even want us to stop. Fine with us. We have grown tired of police checks anyway.

With all the challenges we faced, a nice bonus was that the scenery was absolutely gorgeous. The road winds its way up onto the Ethiopian highlands by skirting along the slopes of deep canyons and cutting through mountain passes flanked by tall, rugged cliffs.

Slowed Down by the Birds

Throughout the cool morning, we kept stopping to admire and photograph the wonderful diversity of birds along the route. On the forested slopes of these rugged mountains, we were captivated by the many colors, shapes and sizes of the birds, something that was largely absent in the deserts of Sudan and Egypt. The air was full of new and interesting bird songs. It seemed like every few kilometers, we’d see a flash of blue, white, or yellow that would have us pulling over to the side of the road to check out the new birds.

Unfortunately, by late morning we realized that our pace was too slow and that we should have been riding harder in the morning while the temperatures were still relatively cool. It was clear that we’d have to pick up the pace if we had any hope of reaching Aykel by dark. The birds would have to wait until another day.

The ascent up the northern escarpment was very steep, and the hills were relentless. The toughest hills reminded us of the moorlands in England with long, steep inclines - only these were quite a bit longer. On some of the ascents, we couldn’t make it to the top without getting off our bikes and walking. It was exhausting.

It also became incredibly hot as the day wore on. At this altitude, the sun just baked us as we rode. We both lost a lot of water and salt through perspiration. By early afternoon, PedalingGuy’s shirt, gloves, hair and arms were crusted in salt. 

Where Are the Cold Drinks?

The rural villages in this part of Ethiopia rarely have refrigeration. So, imagine our happiness when, approximately 70 km into our ride, we noticed that a small village shop had a refrigerator! We stopped to guzzle several cold drinks each, and it was fabulously refreshing. While we were there, The usual crowd of locals came over to stare at these two outlandish travelers. We were quite the attraction.

One teenage girl at the edge of the crowd kept snapping photos of us on her phone. We had acquired our very own paparazzi. It seemed like she took at least 10 photos, probably more. When we were finished our drinks, PedalingGuy used hand gestures to see if she would be willing to pose for a photo with me. At first she was shy, but her fellow villagers encouraged her to do it. After he took the photo, PedalingGuy let her see it on his screen. We got the impression she wasn’t happy with how it turned out, but we think it’s wonderful.

Wild Camping After All

Even with our stop in the village to get cold drinks, we still didn’t take in enough fluids. With the heat and steep hills, we only managed to cycle 10 more kilometers before we just couldn’t go any further. That meant we were going to have to wild camp, whether we wanted to or not. We chose a spot within sight of the road to set up our tent, reasoning that it would be better to be obvious about camping rather than trying to be secretive. We’ve heard tales from other cyclists that local people became suspicious of their motives when they tried to wild camp in a more secluded area. Camping near the road turned out to be a pretty good decision, because there was absolutely no traffic after sunset. Not a single car or truck passed by until 5:30 the next morning. It was likely that the road had been closed over night by the military.

As we were deciding whether to camp at this location, a young boy came by, driving some cattle down the road. He was mesmerized by our bikes. But after PedalingGuy took his photo, he ran away as fast as he could without saying a word, leaving his cows with us. We were worried he would go get an adult, who would tell us we couldn’t camp. But no one came by to hassle us. Later, an older man wandered over to see who we were. When he saw our tent and realized we were going to camp, he asked us if we would like to stay with him at his house. It was a nice gesture, but we had already put up our tent and we were exhausted, so we declined and he left. It was a nice gesture, and we appreciated the offer..

Unfortunately, PedalingGuy was badly dehydrated. He could hardly help me set up the tent, then he just laid on his sleeping pad in the tent for a long time, trying to recuperate. He looked miserable. A half-hour of rest, combined with a salt tablet and some water, finally started to help him feel better. He eventually was able to eat some food for dinner, and seemed to be mostly recovered by bedtime. We then spent a peaceful and restful night at the camp.

The Roof of Africa

In the morning, as we were packing up the tent, a boy about 14 years old discovered us. He watched us intently from the edge of the road. It was awkward packing up our stuff with him staring at us, and occasionally begging for money, food or clothing.

When we were finished packing, we left PedalingGuy’s bike at the campsite while we pushed my loaded bike up a narrow trail onto the road. As soon as we turned our backs, the boy went over to PedalingGuy’s bike and tried to steal his mobile phone (which was attached to the handlebars), and to open the handlebar bag. He was unsuccessful. And luckily, PedalingGuy noticed this quickly, and yelled and ran towards him. The boy ran away - and didn’t come back. It was a wake-up call that we need to be more careful in keeping watch over our equipment.

Out on the road, we saw our second traffic accident - a truck had somehow run off the road backwards, and into a ditch. There was a crowd of guys around the truck trying to figure out how to get it un-stuck. When PedalingGuy stopped to take a photo, the guys totally lost interest in the truck, and crowded around PedalingGuy for a selfie. I guess we were a welcome distraction.

It was a Saturday, and there were a surprising number of people out on the road, walking to Aykel. The highway was crowded with villagers carrying heavy loads, or driving cattle, sheep, or donkeys piled high with huge burlap bags. We surmised that there must be an upcoming market day in Aykel, and people were coming from all the surrounding villages to sell stuff. The crowded roads made for interesting riding, as we had to weave our way among the various herds of domestic animals. But it was easier for us than for any passing cars. There was a lot of honking as cars and trucks tried to clear a path and get through the masses of people and animals.

Even though the ride was only about 20 km, we were exhausted when we arrived in Aykel. Once again, the hills were very steep and long, with 820 m (2,700 ft) in elevation gain and gradients approaching 13%.

But the good news was that when we reached Aykel we had finally made it to the top of the escarpment, and into the Ethiopian Highlands. Often called the Roof of Africa, this lofty plateau forms the bulk of Ethiopia’s landscape, and contains the highest elevations on the continent - including 80% of Africa’s tallest peaks. Our path forward will still be hilly, but we won’t have to make any more extended climbs until we cross the Blue Nile Gorge… which is still a couple of weeks away.

We booked a night in another, basic guesthouse. The rooms were tiny, but they were incredibly cheap. At 100 ethiopian birr each (approximately $3 USD) we decided to rent two rooms so we would have enough space for all of our gear. The owner, Haile, was very friendly and gregarious. But the hotel was not well maintained. The rooms and the shared bathrooms looked like they hadn’t been properly cleaned in a decade. We took cold showers, but tried not to use the bathrooms too much. As you may have surmised, I am not a fan of cold showers, at all. And now it has been 10 days since we’ve stayed in a hotel with a warm shower. I’d say we’re due for a hotel room with some hot water when we reach Gonder.

Further evidence that we were not in a three-star establishment came later in the evening, when I spotted a mouse scurrying out from under the bed in one of our rooms. From then on, we had to worry about whether the mice would chew through our panniers to try to get at food. The rooms were sparsely furnished, with just a plastic chair and a tiny table in addition to the bed. But we both piled as many panniers as possible on the furnature, with the hope of keeping them out of the reach of the mice. The next morning, we were glad to find that none of our stuff had been damaged during the night.

We ate all of our meals in the little restaurant at the hotel. It probably wasn’t very sanitary, and we both ended up with some stomach problems afterwards. Maybe it was just the fact that the food was more oily and spicy than we’re used to. But we both needed some time to recover once we reached Gonder.

Running the Gauntlet of Kids

On the section of road between Aykel and Gonder, the kids were MUCH more aggressive - begging, shouting “money, money, money, money,” chasing us, and throwing stones. A couple times we had kids try to shove sticks in our wheels, push us off the bikes, or steal things from the bikes. It was exhausting, because we felt compelled to ride faster and harder up the hills than we would have otherwise. And we were always on edge, whenever a bunch of kids approached, which was almost constant throughout the day. Several boys were successful in stealing a couple of water bottles out of PedalingGuy’s back panniers when he was riding slowly behind me. Even after they stole the water bottles, I guess they were disappointed in not getting something more valuable, and they threw stones at us as we rode away. Usually the stones were small, but in a few cases as large as baseballs, which could cause serious damage to the bike or us if they connected. Fortunately, most of the stones missed their mark.

One of the most disheartening things was that many of the adults we encountered didn’t seem to care very much that their kids were harassing us and trying to steal. Quite a few adults also begged, or shouted “money, money, money,” as we rode by.

Although individual Ethiopians can be friendly and helpful, the overall experience of being a foreign cyclist in Ethiopia is that some locals don’t really see you as a person, but rather they think it’s entertaining to hassle you and see whether they can get you to give them something for free, even if they don’t really need something from you. This dynamic seems to be unique to Ethiopia, and has not occurred in any of the other countries where we’ve cycled.

On the bright side, there were two times when young boys, maybe 12 years old, helped push us and our bikes up steep hills. In those cases, they really worked hard and expended a lot of energy to help us out. They also seemed to be good-natured kids who got a kick out of interacting with strangers. At the top of the hills, we gave them a little money for their effort, and thanked them for their help. They didn’t try to steal or beg. Instead, they were hoping to earn some money by doing something truly considerate and useful - that was nice.

Not All Smooth Sailing

Until we reached Gonder, the road surfaces in Ethiopia were in impressively good condition. The pavements were smooth, the lanes were wide enough for cars and tuk-tuks to pass, and the road edges were level enough with the gravel shoulders that it was safe to pull off the road whenever we needed to.

However, when we got within about 12 km of Gonder, all that fell apart. Approximately 7 km of road were completely torn up. The road surface became incredibly bumpy, hard-packed dirt full of large stones. We rattled our way uphill on this mangled road, going very slowly. It was a bummer because usually when we get within about 15 km of our destination, we can count on the fact that it will be a quick ride to the end. Not this time. It took us over an hour to slog our way up that last 7 km. Fortunately, we were now in a more urban area, and there was a lot less harassment from kids in the city.

It was a tremendous relief to finally arrive at the Inn of the Four Sisters, high on a hill in Gonder. It’s an oasis of tranquility and modern conveniences. Located behind locked gates with an ever present security guard, the hotel is spotlessly clean, with all new furniture and fixtures. The doors close quietly (unlike the clanging aluminum doors used by most hotels in Ethiopia and Sudan), and they have hot water! They even provide towels, toilet paper, and soap - luxuries we haven’t had since Khartoum.

Most Ethiopian shops, even in the bigger cities, carry just a few types of drinks, usually Coke, Sprite and Fanta, and some very sugary, bottled mango juice. There are no options for sugar-free drinks, except for water. We’re going to have to be careful about rotting our teeth with all the sugar.

Amazingly, even though Gonder (pop. 324,000) is a fair-sized, tourist-oriented city, we still weren’t able to get sugarless drinks in the local stores. We hadn’t seen any drinks without tons of sugar since leaving Al Qadarif, Sudan. But the Inn of the Four Sisters came to the rescue. They made some calls to stores around town, and managed to locate a small cache of Diet Pepsi. One of their staff picked up some bottles and brought them back to the hotel, so we could have the drinks for the rest of our stay in Gonder. That’s awesome service.

The Camelot of Africa

For the past month we had been in touch with Paul and Priti, another cycling couple from France. They’re also biking from Cairo to Cape Town, but they’ve added a twist by riding on a tandem (a bicycle built for two). They suggested meeting up with us in Gonder so that we could be part of a larger group riding through Ethiopia - and so we could help each other with any problems we might encounter with the barrage of kids along the way. Other touring cyclists in Africa are rare, so it was great to be able to connect with them.

The day after we arrived in Gonder, they joined us at the hotel. The four of us went together to see the Gonder Royal Enclosure, also known as the Camelot of Africa. The Enclosure houses six stone castles that were built by Ethiopian emperors in the 1600-1700s, when Gonder was the capital of the country. It was fascinating to see how similar the architecture was to European castles. There must have been a fair amount of communication between Ethiopia and Europe at the time.

We also spent most of a day working on our bikes. We pulled thorns out of the tires, cleaned the chains, adjusted my kickstand, checked the chains for stretching, and checked the brake pads. We were relieved that both the brake pads and the chains were still in good condition. We’ll be doing a lot more braking, going up and down all these Ethiopian mountains. And since we only brought along one set of extra chains, the longer the first chains last, the better. 

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