Cycling Gonder to Bahir Dar, Ethiopia: Devil’s Nose and the Finger of God
26 February - 2 March 2020
26 Feb (38.4 km, 24 mi) - Gonder to Maksegnit
27 Feb (53.1 km, 33 mi) - Maksegnit to Addis Zemen
28 Feb (82.1 km, 51 mi) - Adis Zemin to Bahir Dar
29 Feb - 2 March - Layover in Bahir Dar
Our very comfortable, extended stay in Gonder was about to come to a close. The city’s incongruous, 17th-century castles and the jaw-droppingly beautiful mountains would be left behind. Instead, we gathered our belongings into our panniers and prepared for the next phase of our life out on the roads of Ethiopia.
From Gonder, it would take us three days of cycling to reach the next big city of Bahir Dar. During that time, we’d be traveling through and staying in smaller towns, with fewer amenities. Anticipating this, we took some time on our last day in Gonder to savor some of the pleasures of city life. That included a stroll down to the main piazza, with a stop at a local cafe for a couple of fresh fruit smoothies.
As is typical in this part of the world, the menu was way more extensive than the actual items available. This cafe’s menu listed about six different flavors of smoothies, but the only one actually being served was the mango/avocado combination. It must have been mango and avocado season, because these two fruits were often the only ones available for smoothies. They’re extremely popular in Ethiopia, and most of the bigger towns have cafes that are crowded with locals sipping the thick, orange and green drinks from a mug. We weren’t sure whether they were being diluted with local water, which can be a major source of stomach trouble, but we enjoyed them with abandon, nonetheless.
This is the good life. We took time to relax and enjoy a couple of mango and avocado smoothies before leaving the relative comforts of Gonder, Ethiopia. In the countries that border the Nile River, avocados are treated like any other fruit, and they often appear in smoothies as well as fruit salads. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
On the Road Again
Cycling between Gonder and Bahir Dar, safety is a major concern. While stone-throwing kids can be encountered anywhere, the hostility of some people along this part of our route towards foreigners is serious enough that cyclists frequently skip this section, and take a bus or hitch a ride with locals. Thinking there may be safety in numbers, we were very happy to join up and ride with two French cyclists.
Since leaving Cairo months ago we had only encountered two other cyclists (one of whom was going in the opposite direction) so we felt fortunate to have traveling partners. We’d already spent three days trekking with them in the Simien Mountains National Park, so we knew they would be great companions.
Our French cycling friends were traveling across Africa on a tandem bicycle - also hoping to make it all the way to Cape Town, South Africa. If touring cyclists are uncommon in Africa, then cyclists on tandems are even more rare. Only a few others have ever attempted Africa on a tandem.
Since we’d been off our bikes for 10 days (!!), we decided to keep the first day’s ride relatively short. We wanted to give our legs - and more importantly our tushes - a chance to re-acclimate to long hours of cycling. So with only 38.4 km (24 mi) of biking on the agenda, we were able to take our time packing up in the morning. That also allowed us to enjoy one more excellent breakfast at the Inn of the Four Sisters. It was a blessing to be able to load up our bikes in the tranquility of the Inn’s enclosed courtyard, before heading out onto the hectic and crowded streets of the city.
The roads within the city of Gonder generated some of the most difficult riding of the day. Our route took us right through the historic heart of Old Gonder, past the ancient castles on narrow, cobblestone alleys. Decades of poor maintenance have left these naturally-bumpy streets even more treacherous. They’re pockmarked with gravel-filled trenches and wheel-mangling holes. That’s enough to rattle any cyclist.
But there’s more. Within the first couple of kilometers after leaving our hotel, we found ourselves slowly bouncing and shimmying down a very steep, cobble stoned grade - squeezing our brakes until our hands ached. Part way down the hill, a dog dashed out from the left, snarling and barking as it ran close to our panniers until its shouting owner managed to get the animal to back off. We were clattering our way down into an urban gully. And as we approached the bottom of the hill, dread gripped my stomach. The route took a sharp left-hand turn and launched sharply upwards on the cobblestones for about 100 m, on the other side of the gully. I strained and gasped for air, trying to force my way up the 15% grade. Cobblestones and a steep grade are not a good combination on loaded bikes. It was no use. About two thirds of the way up, I had to stop and catch my breath. The French cyclists on their tandem stopped right behind me, and we pushed our bikes the rest of the way up the hill. PedalingGuy, of course, made it to the top without stopping. He’s tough.
Other than that, the ride was pretty easy. We had some nice, long downhill stretches. Plus, the last 10 km were fairly flat. That gave us a chance to work on finding a cycling rhythm with the folks on the tandem, and to get back into the mindset for spending the day out on the road. When they get rolling, tandems can go pretty fast. But we all took it easy for the first day.
The scenery was relatively bland, with miles of low, dry, brown hills. We could see a line of mountains in the distance, but we wouldn’t reach them until tomorrow. The landscape was pretty flat because we were actually cycling along the northeastern edge of the Lake Tana Basin, although we were much too far away to be able to see the lake, yet. Lake Tana is Ethiopia’s biggest lake, and the source of the Blue Nile river. We hope to visit the lake once we reach Bahir Dar, in a couple of days.
Amazingly, it hadn’t rained on us yet, even though we had been cycling in Africa for more than two months. As a result, the grass on the hills was bone-dry. Ethiopia’s rainy season starts in late March - which was still about a month away. So, we’d be able to enjoy plenty of sunny cycling days until then. But it would be nice to see the hills turn green once the rain finally starts to fall.
The lack of rain had left the hills brown and covered with withered grass. New, green shoots wouldn’t arrive until the rains began - which was at least a month away. Amhara, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
As the morning wore on, we found ourselves cycling into the wind, which slowed us down. But even with the headwind, we arrived in Maksegnit before noon. I was surprisingly tired from the ride - partly from the headwind and heat, but also because we hadn’t been on our bikes for a while. It was great to reach town so early, and have the afternoon to rest up.
We located our hotel, and parked our bicycles out in front, just behind a very basic fence that separated the hotel’s front patio from the street. The fence was more symbolic than functional - made of metal poles spaced about two meters apart, with a single, lightweight chain strung between the poles.
While PedalingGuy and Paul went into the hotel to secure a couple of rooms, Priti and I waited outside to keep an eye on the bikes. And we waited. And waited. The check-in process took a really long time because the guys couldn’t find a reception desk, since there wasn’t one, and ended up wandering the halls trying to find someone who could help them. When they did find someone, that person only spoke Amharic, which also slowed down the process. The hotel staff were very patient and showed the guys 5-6 rooms before they decided on the two that were best.
Unfortunately, that left Priti and I guarding the bikes where we were exposed to the people passing on the street. Within moments of our arrival, roughly 10 kids had gathered around, lining up along the fence to get a look at the foreigners. They were pushing and shoving, squabbling with each other as they tried to get as close as possible to stare at the bikes and possibly try to touch them. Pretty quickly, Priti and I decided we were way too close to the fence, and moved the three bikes back a few feet.
But time was not on our side. A few of the kids could speak a little bit of English, and started chatting with us. That emboldened the others to push closer, and pretty soon kids were sneaking under the hotel fence, and standing on the inside, inching closer and closer. Meanwhile, the crowd of kids expanded to more than thirty, and they were joined by a couple of older teens and young adult men. We moved the bikes back farther, and tried to shoo the kids back under the fence. They’d back off for a minute or two, then start creeping forward again. We could feel the energy level in the crowd increasing, along with the pushing and jockeying for position among the kids - and it was making us nervous.
Suddenly, we heard scuffling on the front steps of the hotel and kids started yelling. A fight had started between two boys, about 12-15 years old. They were were punching each other, wrestling, and stumbling around while the other kids shouted encouragement. The fight escalated quickly, as one of the boys got the upper hand and started pounding the other one. I stayed with the bikes, while Priti rushed over to break it up and PedalingGuy and Paul emerged from the hotel. PedalingGuy yelled at the kids and they scattered. Apparently the fight had started over a wrench, which one kid had been carrying, and the other tried to steal under the cover of the crowd. The ruckus drew the attention of an older man, who came forward and finally started to help us shoo the kids away from the hotel property.
After a very cold shower in the pungent, shared bathroom, we went out with our French friends for lunch. They had found a nice place nearby, and met a guy who worked as a guide at the Simien Mountains National Park. He knew our previous guide, Worku, and talked with us about how he also grew up in a village in the mountains, tending a herd of goats. He joined us while we ate lunch, and helped us place our orders, since the staff at the cafe didn’t speak any English. It was interesting to talk with him. He is studying wildlife and botany at the university in Gonder, and is married to a woman who’s a medical researcher. They were in Maksegnit so that she could participate in a medical conference. He was watching their 3-year old son at the cafe while his wife attended the meeting.
All’s well at the best cafe in Maksegnit, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Where’s the Meat?
It was the third day of the Ethiopian Orthodox Great Holy Lent Fast, which began on February 24, and runs for an astonishing 55 days, until Orthodox Easter on April 19. That’s 15 days longer than the Catholic lent season. Ethiopia’s Christians are very strict, and the majority will observe the fast by abstaining from eating meat, dairy or eggs for all 55 days. As a result, these key sources of protein, which are important when you are tying to rebuild muscle from a long day of cycling, became very difficult to find.
Gonder hosts a lot of tourists. So we hadn’t had any dining challenges while we were there. But we were about to find out what the next 40+ days might be like, in the smaller towns along our route. Our new friend, who spoke both English and Amharic, helped us order a meal. We started out by asking him to order for us what he would get if he were having lunch. This is something we do pretty often, and it’s a great way to try something new and probably tasty. But we forgot that, of course, he would be fasting. So he ordered for us a plate of firfir - a typical fasting meal. It’s basically a big pile of rolled injera (the slightly fermented, national bread of Ethiopia), marinated in lemon, olive oil and spicy berbere powder, with a few, small pieces of peppers and cabbage on top as a garnish. Not exactly what we were looking for. So we decided to try again.
We asked our host whether there were any meals with chicken (no), or meat (no, no). The restaurant was observing the fast. Needless to say, we were very pleased to hear that they still served eggs. Thank goodness you can’t turn off the chickens, and they keep laying eggs even during lent. We ordered a mixed veggie platter with scrambled eggs, and it hit the spot.
We were delighted that the cafe in town was still serving eggs, even though eggs (along with meat and dairy) are banned foods for Ethiopians who are fasting for Lent. Maksegnit, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
After lunch we went for a short walk around town. Immediately we acquired an entourage of kids who followed us down the street, asking us our names and where we were from, and for money. It could have become annoying, but PedalingGuy performed his usual jujitsu, and enlisted one of them to help us out. We had hoped to buy some Stim, a fizzy apple drink that we had grown to like in Sudan. But the first few shops that we checked didn’t have any. PedalingGuy showed one of the boys, who spoke a bit of English, a photo of Stim. Sure enough, he knew right where to go. The boy set off in the lead, thrilled with his new-found responsibility. And it was obvious that all of his friends thought he was a big shot for getting us to follow him. They followed us in a bunch, eager to see what would happen next. When we reached the right shop, and the shopkeeper produced Stim for us to buy, everyone cheered.
A refreshing, cold drink to help with rehydration after cycling in the high-altitude heat. Maksegnit, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
On our walk, it became obvious that this was garlic season. And apparently the area around Maksegnit produces a lot of garlic. All around town, there were giant piles of fresh garlic, often taller than the height of a man. Each pile was surrounded by women and kids pruning off the roots and stems. And nearby, young men filled big cloth sacks with the fresh bulbs.
Garlic is in season, and everyone seemed to be involved in processing the crop. Maksegnit, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
After we returned to the hotel, Paul produced a deck of cards and invited us to play. We headed back to the cafe where we had eaten lunch, and found a table in the back where we could have some space away from the other patrons. We had a blast. Over the next couple of hours we played a bunch of different games including a couple that Paul taught us from France.
It was a great warmup for a hearty spaghetti dinner. By the time we were done eating, it was starting to get dark. There are mosquitos in the town, and Maksegnit is only 1,923 m above sea level (below 2,000 m, you need to worry about malaria). We wanted to be safely in our hotel rooms before it got dark. So, we headed back.
Unfortunately, the windows in the hotel room didn’t have screens. And, it was too warm in the hotel room to sleep without keeping the windows open. We decided that it would be wise to sleep in our tent inside the hotel room - a common trick used by cyclists in tropical countries. But we had a bit of a problem. On this trip we brought along the Taj Mahal of tents, so it doesn’t fit so easily inside a hotel room (many cyclists have small, one-person tents that can fit easily on a single bed). While it’s been a luxury to have such a nice, spacious tent out in the field, it’s not very practical for indoor use. We solved the problem by pushing two twin beds together, and setting up our tent on both beds. The end by our feet still hung over the edge of the bed, but otherwise it worked pretty well. We slept much better knowing that the skeeters wouldn’t be able to feast on us all night.
The mosquitos won’t be biting us tonight. We slept in our tent, precariously positioned on top of two hotel beds, pushed together. Maksegnit, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Gods and Devils
The next morning we were eager to get back on the road. We had heard from other cyclists that the long, uphill climb into Addis Zemen would reveal some spectacular scenery.
Our route would take us over two mountain ridges - thin fingers of the Northern Wollo mountains that stretch westward almost all the way to Lake Tana. Heading out of Maksegnit into the sunrise, we could see the first ridge rising in front of us.
Heading for adventure in the Ethiopian Highlands. Maksegnit, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Fortunately, at 230 m (760 ft) and 403 m (1,322 ft) the ridges weren’t too high, and the slopes weren't overly steep. That set us up for a pleasant day of riding with slow, but steady ascents, followed by long, exhiliarating, wind-in-your-hair descents.
The scenery on the mountain slopes as we approached Addis Zemen did not disappoint us. From a great distance, we spotted the first of two giant, rocky outcrops called hoodoos. They’re ancient volcanic spires that jut up into the sky, with mystical sounding names like the Devil’s Nose and the Finger of God. The road from Gonder to Addis Zemen passes quite close to them, giving us plenty of time to marvel at these strange and other-worldly shapes.
Everyone still back there? Amhara, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Approaching the Finger of God. He seems to be pointing to the beautiful, blue sky. Amhara, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
It was a shame that much of the ride was marked by incessant begging by large numbers of kids, and even many of the adults. Today we weren’t just hounded with shouts of “money, money, money!” We’ve also reached an area where tourists must have a habit of giving away pens, because there was a high prevalence of “pen, pen, pen, pen!!” shouted as well. Other shouts included “chocolate!” and “banana!” and probably a couple of other things I don’t remember. But more problematic than the shouting, was the hostility of the kids. They chased us uphill in groups, grabbing at the bikes, trying to push us over, and throwing stones.
Priti was hit twice in the back with stones, and many others skidded by us, bouncing off the asphalt. Luckily she was not seriously hurt. We had decided to ride as a group of four, in the hope that it would deter some of this behavior, but it didn’t really help. In fact, it seemed as though the bikes riding in front just served to excite the children, so that by the time the last bicycle rode past, the kids were set to attack. Riding at the back of the group was definitely a tough place to be. PedalingGuy took it upon himself to ride last as much as possible when we were approached by packs of kids, doing his best to draw their attention, scare them away, or ride away quickly before they could catch him. It was a tough job, because these incidents invariably happened as we were slogging slowly uphill.
A week after we rode through here, another group of three cyclists were ambushed from above with large stones by a group of kids on a steep hillside bordering the road. One of the cyclists from Poland, who we met later in Bahir Dar, got a concussion when he was hit by a large stone on the side of the head. He ended up taking a bus to Addis Ababa for medical treatment and had no desire to continue cycling in Ethiopia. That was unnerving, and it made us realize that things could have been worse.
After the final, gloriously fast, downhill glide into Addis Zemen we were very happy to arrive at the hotel. The hotel rooms were nothing to get excited about (we ended up setting up our tent in the room, again). But the building was set far back from the road, behind a cement wall with an iron gate. Once inside the gate, we were able to relax within a large, private courtyard. And the curious kids outside didn’t dare wander through the gate. We really appreciated the privacy.
Once we had settled in, we began the daily search for food. We asked the hotel manager if there was anywhere in town where we might be able to get a meal with meat, because most restaurants were only serving vegan dishes in observance of Lent. As far as he knew, there were only two cafes in town that would serve meat, both run by Muslims. One of them was just a block away, so we thought we might be in luck. But, no. They were closed, and no one seemed to know whether they would be open later in the evening or not. So the four of us squeezed into a tuk-tuk, and headed across town to the other Muslim restaurant.
To our great disappointment, that one was open, but didn’t have any meat, pasta or much else to eat. We asked a couple of guys who were passing by if they had any suggestions. They took us to a restaurant on the 2nd floor of a building, and we were delighted to find that they were serving eggs. All four of us ordered the scrambled eggs, plus pasta with spicy tomato sauce. It was delicious, and filled us up nicely. It was pleasant to sit in the cafe, so we hung out there a long time waiting for our meal, eating leisurely, and sipping cold drinks. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as a hearty meal and a chance to relax with friends after a strenuous bike ride.
The Heartland of Teff
The final ride into Bahir Dar started with a glorious downhill. For 12+ km we cruised down a nearly-straight road surfaced with smooth tarmac. We barely had to pedal, sailing along at the brisk, but comfortable pace of about 30 km/hr. We reached the foot of the mountain in record time.
The next 30 km were just as pleasant. We cycled across a broad, flat section of the Lake Tana floodplain, in an area that has been heavily cultivated for centuries. The primary crop here is teff - the tiny grain that is the primary ingredient in injera, Ethiopia’s national bread. It’s one of the most important agricultural products in the country, and the Lake Tana region is part of the teff heartland. To our left, huge fields of teff stretched for several miles before being interrupted by a line of trees in the distance. Small flocks of Sacred Ibis, Spur-winged Geese, and Common Cranes strolled through the teff fields hunting for food, or lounging near shallow wetlands that dotted the landscape.
Appealing baskets full of local produce, being sold beside the road. Woreta, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
A group of Common Cranes added a touch of grace to the landscape. Woreta, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Some of the kids we met out on the plain were friendly. This guy came over to look at our bikes while we were stopped for a break in the shade. Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
These kids ran along beside us for a very long way. Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
After passing the town of Hamusit, the route climbed back into the hills. We careened over a series of hills, that formed two big mountain ridges. Then, the final 10 km into Bahir Dar was all downhill. On the way down, we finally caught sight of the great Lake Tana, off to our left.
Check-in at the hotel was a bit complicated. Only some of the rooms had working air conditioning, and we really wanted air conditioning. Bahir Dar lies at an elevation of only 1,820 m (just under 6,000 ft), which is well below the altitude line for malaria. And with the lake close by, mosquitos would definitely be a problem in the city. Since we knew we would be staying in Bahir Dar for at least a couple of days to visit sights on the lake, we really wanted to be comfortable, without having to worry about the mosquitos or to set up our tent in the room again.
But the hotel wanted to charge us considerably more for an air conditioned room than other, nearby hotels were charging. PedalingGuy actually went to a hotel next door to check out their rooms, as we considered our options. That got the hotel manager’s attention, and he lowered the price for us. We ended up with a large, clean room with hot water and a private bath - comforts we hadn’t had since leaving Gonder. And the wifi was pretty good, too, with the best speeds we’ve had in a while. An extra bonus was the view. We had a balcony looking northward toward Lake Tana, with its fringe of purple Jacaranda trees in bloom. It was lovely.
Lake Tana with its fringe of purple Jacaranda trees in bloom. Seen from our balcony in Bahir Dar, Ethiopia. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
Farewell to our French Friends
After a day taking care of chores like laundry, we had planned to hire a boat on Lake Tana with the two cyclists from France. Unfortunately, that night PedalingGuy became very ill with stomach trouble. In the morning he was in no condition to go on the boat trip, so we cancelled our plans. We would have to go another day. Paul and Priti decided they would take the trip without us.
PedalingGuy spent most of the day in bed. Around mid-day, I also became sick, and spent the rest of the day in bed. In the evening, we learned that both Paul and Priti ended up sick as well. We all extended our stay at the hotel to recover.
On Monday, we felt better but decided to take it easy and rest another day. In the evening, Paul and Priti joined us for a drink while we had dinner. They had decided that they would head down the road the next day, so we would be parting ways. We agreed that traveling in a bigger group didn’t seem to reduce the likelihood of having trouble with kids along the way (and might actually make it worse). Besides, PedalingGuy and I wanted to stay in Bahir Dar a couple of more days so that we could take the boat trip that we had missed, which sounded wonderful.
We visited for a long time. As a symbol of our friendship, Priti tied green ribbon around our wrists and we took a photo. It was a nice gesture. We’ll miss their company.
The bond of cyclists on the roads of Africa. Copyright © 2019-2020 Pedals and Puffins.
