Ain't No Mountain High Enough
Made it to Gondar, and cycled to the rest day. The four long days, and two shorter days were manageable! Yesterday was probably one of the most amazing rides I have done, and I think quite a few people feel the same. Rider briefing the night before; ‘This is probably one of the longest climbs on the trip. It is a big day.’ I think we had all been expecting it - the distance was only 104km or so, but usually that is reflective of the anticipated terrain. The route profile showed a steading climb starting at about 1200m above sea level 15km in to the day, and peaking at 33km and 2250m - so a 1000m climb continuously for 18km. The talk of the tour is the infamous ‘Blue Nile Gorge’ which will be descending and then ascending next weekend. No one had really considered any big climbs prior to the legend that is. I had a good day the day before, and surprisingly really enjoy hill cycling. Alistair was right, he said I would be ok on the hills because I have the right power to weight ratio. I wasn’t convinced by what he was saying, but the proof is in the pudding as they say. A lot of it is mental, I have just been in the right frame of mind to grind up the hills without stopping - I’m sure the day will come when I just say no - but for the moment, make hay while the sunshines. The clocks moved forward an hour coming into Ethiopia (I think I have mentioned this), and therefore the crew moved breakfast later by half an hour - to 6.30. I set my alarm for 5.15, giving me 1h15mins to wake up and pack up. For some reason we were all very efficient following the time change, and were actually waiting for breakfast. The only one who wasn’t so keen was David. Poor David had been up all night vomitting, and was looking very peaky (just for you, Lucy :)). He made the call to sit the day out. It was a shame because he is good at climbing and had been saving himself the previous day for the big climb to Gondar. Turns out it was the right decision - he spent the whole day vomitting, I think it subsided at about 2pm. It would have been a very bad combination on the bike, especially as he wouldn’t have been able to keep fluids down either. Alistair, Jenna and I set off together. We had decided we would try and keep within visual distance of each other, mostly because we have been warned about stone throwing and stick hitting
by local children. It has also been mentioned that girls are particularly enticing targets for wandering male hands while we cycle past, particularly while going slow and uphill. It was a really nice morning, the sun was just coming up over the mountains. We must have been heading towards the East. A slight uphill and then a great downhill. Alistair would fall back on the uphill but soon catch us on the downhill. Eventually the uphills outweighed the downs and Jenna and I pulled away. There was a slight head wind, which was disappointing for the downhills as we weren’t going quite as fast as otherwise. A few big trucks passed us, they must have been setting off from one of the nearby towns. After about 12km we dipped down and through a village. There were many little kids, about 4-5years old who came running to the edge of the road near one of the buildings. Hello hello and waving. Right at the bottom of the valley the road took a sharp turn up. And I mean turn as in not right or left, but from down to up. So the climb began. Jenna and I level pegged most the way up. It was actually really enjoyable. We passed Anton, I was trying to keep Jenna within eyesight behind me. The road meandered up the mountainside, through multiple little villages. The villagers were all out on the streets, well their houses are pretty open anyway, so it feels like they are on the streets more than they maybe are. There was a little stream on the uphill side of the road which it looked like the locals would go and wash in. I didn’t feel threatened at all. My approach was to should Salam (hello) as I saw them, so they knew I was friendly. Moslty they asked where we were going, and seemed interested. Particularly the late teens/early 20’s people. There were people at a water pump filling their yellow jerry cans, some people carrying a big wicker basket up the hill (so big it took three of them to carry), and mny little minibuses passed (local buses again). There were some false flats (Alistair and Marty informed me later). I was complaining at the end of the day that I had had to stop to check my bike was ok because I was working so hard on the bits that I thought were downhill, that I was convinced there was something wrong with my bike. A flat tire or something. Turns out that because of the angle of the road, it was deceptive, what I thought was flat/downhill was actually slightly uphill! I hadn’t found anything wrong with my bike when I stopped and checked it, so they must have been right. At about 20km the road climbed over a saddle and then turned left along the ridge before continuing its sharp ascent again. I could see Marty and Neal ahead of me. Neal would be alot more efficient if he cycled in a straight line up the hill. I kindly informed him of this - he looked like a drunk cycling home from the pub! I also developed a technique of cutting the bends into straight lines whenever there was no traffic, Im convinced this shaved off at least a km ultimately (maybe it was only mental but still!). As I passed Marty and Neal I lost Jenna. I figured that she was within sight of those two and I was within sight of them too, so we should be ok. At this point too, there was more traffic heading in the same direction as us. Foot traffic that is. I assume they were going to market as many of them had donkeys with firewood, and some boys with papaya. And they were all walking in the same direction. The boys tried to sell me a fruit - there is no way I would carry any extra weight up the hill at all. Especially in that form! Shortly after Marty and Neal, I came across Joost. We were near the top now. I was looking forward to the coffee at 36km that Tallis had talked about (i.e a town with some shops), and was secretly hoping they might have whisky for my coffee too. Just before the top, kind of at the start of a plateau/gentle climb there was a police check point - a piece of rope across the road and a hut with some policemen. One of the policemen approached a had a checklist with our names on - he must have been instructed to tick our names off as we came up. Police check points are pretty common, less so here than in Sudan, and less in Sudan than in Egypt. I thought they might prove problematic for us - and we would be subject to paying bribes to get through. So far we haven’t been stopped at all. I have a feeling some riders were stopped in Egypt and made to wait for an hour for other riders to catch them up so that is was ‘safer’, but other than that they have been no more than a kilometre marker for us. The downside of cycling by yourself is that you have no one to stop with. In the past I’m not sure that this would have bothered me. Now, however, I am more reluctant to put myself in situations that may draw undue attention/be out of my comfort zone. I tell myself that if i was male it would be different, maybe that’s an excuse. I reached the town. It was busier than I anticipated, built up on both sides of the road, horses pulling carts, tuktuks, pedestrians, donkeys, minivans, trucks…intact there was very little space on the road for moving traffic. The town was at the bottom of a hill, well actually it continued to sprawl up the next hill and slightly down that too. The traffic was very much leading into town, again making me think there was a market there also. Approaching the town it was all in the same direction as me, leaving the town they were all walking on the right coming towards me. I was going to continue straight through, feeling a bit disappointed as I had been looking forward to my buna (Amharic for coffee). In the end I decided the town reminded me of Debre Zeit, which I visited with Hanna in 2013. I had been quite happy going into stalls and buying fruit, veg and water then so I could do it here. I stopped and found a shop which looked like it would provide some biscuits, I wasn’t quite comfortable enough to sit surrounded by men. The shops here are what I would describe as ‘Le tabac’ for some reason. They are small buildings (clay huts) which are about 2-3m long by 1.5m deep. They have a wooden counter which sits between at about elbow height, there is usually a woman/man sitting behind the counter and then behind her the shelves are crammed with anything small you can think of. Bottles of drink. Cigarettes. Washing powder. Pens. Biscuits. Wafers. Small bottles of shampoo. The one I went to today even had a bag of bread hidden away - a carrier bag with about 10 rolls in it. Pretty much if you ask for it, they are bound to have it hidden away. Anyhow, I approached the lady in this one and asked if she had any biscuits. My reasoning was that I wasn’t sure what the rest of the ride to lunch would be like and so I should have some energy source now, and then to carry on the bike. She didn’t understand, so i gestured a small square with my hands and then picked up the square and nibbled it. Clarity. She brought out two bags of different biscuits. I bought a bag. Just as I was leaving I saw Dylan and his red tshirt having a smoke and a coffee with a local. I went over and said hello, and got my coffee! :) The local guy was a teacher and was practising his English. Dylan was looking for a picture of our route on his phone, to show him. That is the kind of situation I would never feel comfortable to get into if I was there by myself - again I like to think this is because I am female, rather than mistrusting. 5 birr for the coffee, free refills. Here the coffee is black, strong and with at least 2 tsp of sugar. I am developing a bad black tea/coffee and sugar habit. An older man with good English, and wearing a suit, pulled up a chair and came to join the conversation. HE was teaching my how to say ‘You’ in Amharic, so I can shout back at the kids in their language. I think it’s ‘Anta’. After half an hour we were back on the bike. As i stood to leave the older man was caressing my leg, asking about my skin. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and decided he was just admiring how toned my quads are becoming (or at least I like to pretend they are).
The last section to lunch was about 25km. There were a few short climbs, but the majority was an amazing downhill. We both agreed that it was the best day cycling we ever had. The road was smooth, there was a manageable amount of traffic, the villages were really interesting, the people engaging, and the view down over the plateau meant that all the while you were ripping down the hill you were surrounded by an endless vista. The majority of the land use here seems to be agriculture. I assume that is why it seems so much more affluent than Sudan. It is such a stark difference between one border and the next. There was another short climb to the lunch truck, and I must have looked tired when I arrived because Harriet asked me ‘Are you ok?’ in the medic way she does with others, but hasn’t had to with me yet. Dylan and I were the only ones there, Aedo and Alex had just left, and Richard and Tom were ahead of them. There was small crowd of locals about 2m away, just standing watching. I picked a suitably subtle bush and relieved myself, luckily no one followed to see where I was going. The treat at lunch today was ‘Labneh’, which I think is Turkish cream cheese. I think it was just having some variety, but it was more enjoyable that cream cheese at home! We also have new bread - as we do in every new country. This stuff is particularly welcome as we have been eating bread bought in Khartoum, which is now over 6 days old, and getting pretty chewy. Marty, Neal, Dylan and I set off together from lunch, but Dylan and I pulled away pretty promptly. It was now about 11am and the temperature was rising. It was the first time in the whole trip that I had thought ‘I would enjoy this ride more if it finished now, and we all got on the lunch truck.’. I steeled myself, and reminded myself that I actually had nothing else to do today other than cycle. So I might swell just grind away in a low gear and see how far I get before the last rider catches up with me. It took about 15km to get into it again, but in the end that feeling left and I had a really good afternoon. Dylan stuck with me to the hotel, which was really nice. I think actually we were more or less going at the same pace anyway, although there may have been an element of it being safer for me if we were together. There was a different vibe in the villages after lunch. The kids seemed a bit more aggressive, and their body language was more square. There were some intimidating groups of kids between 7 and 15 years old (normally the boys) that would stand at the side or sometimes in the middle of the road with long sticks. I gave them a wide margin and shouted Salam. I didn’t see any raised. We did have a couple of rocks thrown at us, and one of the kids grabbed Dylans back wheel and he veered into me. Compared to the people that came later I think we had it really easy. Steph said she had a whole row of kids standing across the road with sticks, so she stopped and waited for Frank for 15mins. To be honest, I think if we stopped cycling, that would diffuse the situation and the challenge, but it would be very tedious to stop frequently. So far the nuisance from the kids hasn’t been as bad as I envisaged, however we have only been cycling here two days, and I have been near the front of the group and so the villages are less forewarned. We came into Gondar at about 2pm. The hotel is called the Goha Hotel and is at the top of a hill. There was a huge increase in traffic as soon as we hit the city, and the road surface became intermittent. We caught up with Alex and Aedo, and Ash (who had started at lunch as is suffering with saddle sores) and navigated the town together. Just as we thought we had got to the hotel, we turned left into the driveway and the incline shot up. A cruel sense of humour - 500m of steep hair pin bends up the hotel road. The view at the top was amazing, and the hotel a notch above Grand Villa Hotel, Khartoum.
I had spent the afternoon chanting about not having to put my tent up, having a shower, a sit down toilet…and paying someone to do my washing…so was very relieved to find out they still had a single room left - 59usd/night including breakfast, for the whole time we are here. Sold. The room is really nice too, and actually has two single beds in. I felt a little bad as I bagged the last room available for the whole three nights, Dylan has his of only two. I think he will sleep in my spare bed for the last night to save him putting the tent up. I enjoyed the hot water shower, the large white towel, the semi fast wifi (better than in Khartoum) and the Gin and Tonic I had been talking about of the last week. I even lowered myself to giving someone my laundry. It did only cost me 270birr (about $8.50), and has saved me about 3 hours of standing over the sink, getting my clothes only semi-clean.
None of us had the energy to take a ride down the hill for cheaper local cuisine, so we sat at the bar and had burger, fries and white chocolate gateau. Amazing what 6 days roughing it in the desert, and cycling everyday, can make you feel like you deserve. I’m sure we all spent more than we would have done if the day hadn’t been so physically demanding! No one had to get on the truck at lunch, and everyone who set off in the morning made it over the hill, and up the next one. Good work team. I really thought there might be people on the truck at lunch. Today was rest day 1 of 2. I woke up pretty early - 5am with the calls to prayer in fact. I was out of bed and into the lobby to use the internet before the rest of the guests could jump online and slow it down. Everyone else started rising at about 7.30 for breakfast. I went and joined them for coffee and watermelon. It felt very civilised sitting at a table, rather that on a precariously balanced camp chair with a bowl on your lap. David was feeling a bit better today, which is good. A group of us ventured down the hill to the Royal Enclosure (Fasil Ghebbi). We hired a guide and looked round. It was well worth doing.
I was a bit reluctant to pay for a guide, in honour of British frugality. in reality we had thought the castle was a church, and really had no idea, so the 100 birr for the guide, made the 200 birr entrance fee worthwhile. Gondar is referred to the ‘Camelot of Africa’. It sits at about 2100m above sea level, and is surrounded by mountains of about 3000m. The houses here have steel roofs, compared to the clay and straw huts of the lower levels. The Royal Enclosure consists of stone walls, enclosing 6 separate castles, each built by the subsequent monarch who wanted their own building rather than just to move into their predecessors. It was pretty cool to see how eau building served a different purpose as it was built. And had a different design also. A lot of it was destroyed in 1941 by the Brits, but it has been very well restored in the interim. Afer the castle grounds the others continued on to an old bathing facility with the guide. Dylan and I were hungry and went in search of food. We came across a shady cafe type thing, with plastic chairs around tables. My requisite was that they must serve coffee. We ordered two
coffees and sat down. The lady preparing the coffee is sitting on the floor, with some charcoal and a kettle. She prepares it, brings it over on a papyrus lined tray, with some incense, two cups and the pot. She gives us the incense, two cups and then pours the coffee out from a great height. I'm sure if I tried that feat it would end up on the customer lap, not in the small cup! While we were waiting for the coffee, Dylan was talking to some men beside us. They had small fondue type thing with charcoals underneath and sizzling beef on top, and some injera to accompany. It looked good. The locals ordered one for us. It was a funny set up. There was the canopied seating area, behind the seating area was an indoor dark area (presumably indoor seating) and the coffee lady was sitting at this entrance, and to the right of this entrance was a counter with raw beef hanging up beside it. When people ordered their meal, the waitresses would go to the raw meat counter, get some meat and then take it into the back. Actually some people were just being served the raw meat which they were eating with the injera. Back at the hotel we had a talk from Stevie about organising safari’s in Arusha. It seems so early to be talking about Tanzania already! Due to communication limitations/unreliablitiy he needs to know numbers by Addis. We have three rest days in Arusha, before a 7 days cycle stretch. There are two options for the safari; 1. 3 day trip. Leaving in the morning 6am, drive to Serengeti - through the Ngorongoro Crater, arrive about 5pm. Pitch tents. Do serengeti safari the next morning. Drive back at about 2pm. Overnight at Ngorongoro Crater, safari in the morning. Return to Arusha for 6pm. Cycle the next day. 2. 1.5day trip. Leave at lunch time. Drive to the Crater and camp. Do safari the next day and then come back the next morning. I think I will go for the first option, although practically going into a 7 day cycle stretch without having done any washing etc isn’t appealing! The trucks take 7 people. I think option 1 will be about $300U.S per person. Another rest day tomorrow. I think I will lie by the pool, try and even up my cycle short tan lines - and maybe my horrible glove tan too - and read my book. I may venture for another walk around town too, hopefully more shops will be open as today was a Sunday.
