Adventure Travel

Highland Fling

September/October 2006

Matt Kadey mountain bikes through the highlands of Ethiopia in search of the cradle of humanity and some spare inner tubes.

Well-traveled curious tourists go to Ethiopia for its rich visible past, but mountain bikers like the cheap beer, brilliant sun and wild, mountain roads where it seems things haven’t changed much since the time when the world’s first humans prowled this land.

“Mister, give pen”

“Mister, give money”

“Mister, where are you go?”

The Tour de France it’s not, but cycling in the hills of rural Ethiopia means you’re surrounded more or less by the same hordes of spectators. But, unlike the yells from the frenzied audience to work harder along the tour’s Alpe d’Huez stage, our 15-kilometre climb into Lalibela in the chilly mountains is accompanied by equally energetic youths shrieking out in broken English these three simple requests. Being one of the world’s poorest countries, the first two appeals are certainly understandable. As for where we are going? Straight for a lovely shower and to wash off eight days of down and dirty Ethiopian riding.

Hailed as the ‘Cradle of Humanity,’ Ethiopia (historically known as Abyssinia) continues to turn out archaeological goodies revealing a human history that dates back millions of years. At its heart lie the Ethiopian highlands. The Blue Nile and Tekeze rivers meander through this massive highland complex, the Great Rift Valley rips through its centre, and the Simien mountain rise mightily at its northern fringes. “The whole darn area is just awesome,” is how my would-be cycling partner Scott Robinson so eloquently summed up the landscape and riding potential as we shared a few pints at a dingy Toronto pub in the ending days of August, as he made his case for his planned 700-kilometre bike trip from the world’s third highest capital, Addis Ababa through the Ethiopian mountains to the medieval settlement of Lalibela. I’d like to blame the ethanol induced buzz for why I agreed right there and then but, truth be told, the prospect for virgin cycling in a region of Africa with virtually no tourist footprint was all the convincing I needed.

But you could say that my first day of biking in the Horn of Africa wasn’t exactly getting off to the start I had envisioned on that muggy Toronto summer night. With our support van back in Addis Ababa tending to some technical difficulties and hypoglycemia making the frequent undulations so difficult I’m actually considering hitching a ride with the bus who has more chickens strapped to the roof than passengers, a bit of first-day-in-Africa panic is taking hold.

Thankfully, just as I’m about to plant my butt down in the dirt, a kind family sensing my sagging moral insists that I join them in their roadside mud home for a feast heavily biased towards Ethiopia’s sour tasting fermented flat bread injera.

“Eat, Eat,” insists the man of the house whose lined face tells the story of a harsh life in the highlands. Devouring their offerings with my grease-stained hands as if it was my execution-day meal, I’m distracted only by a young girl hiding behind an elderly lady in the corner. “First faranji,” claims my host as he rips-off a piece of injera, dips it into the goat meat wat stew and sticks it into my mouth. Little did I know that it would be another week until we would come across another faranji (foreigner) or for that matter a toilet with a seat. 

Ethiopia's livestock population is believed to be the largest in Africa so by the time we ride into friendly yet humdrum Debre Birhan some 130-kilometres north of Addis Ababa we’ve become de-facto experts at downhill maneuvering so to avoid becoming another donkey-bike collision statistic. Using our newly honed bike handling skills, Scott and I weave through Birhan’s vocal spectators, down a few cold Fanta’s and begin tackling another round of hills. In pursuit are two typically slender mountain boys who, despite riding dilapidated single-geared bikes that are becoming louder with each turn of the rusted crank, are doing their damndest to keep up. “Now you know whey they can run forever,” Scott speaks to Ethiopian’s propensity to turn out some of the world’s great long distance runners.

As we push on north and immerse ourselves further into the highlands, the landscape with each tire rotation is becoming more and more dominated by rolling green hills, deep gorges, traditional huts clinging to the cliffs and cloudless sky. A far cry from most people’s preconceptions that Ethiopia is nothing more than a searing desert. As we zip down to Debre Sina from Tarmabir, a beautifully set village at the top of the immense Mezezo Escarpment where a group of Gelada monkey’s are contentedly foraging, the switchback-laden downhill stretch of tar is our most blissful ride yet – that is until we come to a hole in the mountain.

“Oh man, watch out for that one,” Scott yells out from in-front as we painstakingly make our way through the pot-hole filled and unlit Mussolini Tunnel – a relic from the days when Italy was an unwelcome guest. At roughly a kilometer long, we would have been wise to wait for our support van instead of trying to make it through this dark abyss before any one of many screeching diesel trucks took us down. Several four letter expletives later we emerge from the black hole relatively unscathed and joyful once again to feel the warmth of the big, yellow orb. “What do you expect, it’s Ethiopia,” Scott says with a guilty smirk. Indeed, it is.

Cycling into Senbete, it’s becoming obvious that us faranji’s are going to be the centre of attention everywhere we go. “It’s like the circus has come to town,” Scott fittingly puts it after once again being consumed by the masses in this rather scruffy sprawled town. It’s been another long day of childishly flirting with beautiful Amhara and Oromo females and exchanging hello’s, or more properly Selam’s, with nearly every roadside local, so were grateful when a group of seemingly very bored guards in Senbete eagerly agree to let us camp with them. For what reason they were watching over an empty brick building, I’m still not sure.

Like so many of our campsites, this one involves setting up our tents and then spending the next few hours amusing our guests around a campfire with information from the outside world. Our guards, totting AK-47’s that appear to date back to the years when the Italian’s made their ill-fated colonization attempts, are keen on knowing what it’s like to live in a good country like Canada and, most importantly to them, how you spelled both our names and those of our Dad’s. By the end of the night, we’re simply known as “Scott-Matt” and without every meeting him, my dad is a GREAT man. Their English turns out to be much better than our Amharic.

The Ethiopian highlands are a spectacular place to ride, with rocky cliffs, fertile plains, and winding river gorges. Despite the breathtaking mountain vistas, it’s difficult to overlook the scares of severe deforestation. Losing more than 90 percent of its forest in favour of teff (a traditional grain used for injera) and coffee plantations, along with livestock overgrazing has lead to awful soil erosion and exacerbated drought-induced famines. Whizzing down the asphalt towards the village of Kombolch, both our hearts sink as a logger points over to a strong and proud Juniper tree and simply says without hesitation “that one’s next.”

Camping behind a shady looking bar in Kombolch, in which the owner claims we are her first foreign visitors, gives us the chance to cheer on a group of school boys as they kick up dust playing ‘the beautiful game.’ Full of vigour, the only thing other than the setting sun to interrupt this football match is two bulls charging through the playing field. Like long-distance running, Ethiopians have a strong passion for football. Unfortunately, many games are played with a rag wrapped around a rag wrapped around another rag. As corny as it may sound, it will be a long time before I forget the exultant look on the team captain’s face after handing over one of the several new balls we had brought with us. The enthusiasm as they kicked around their new toy in the final moments of illumination was in itself worth the journey here and challenges we’re enduring.   

By the time we roll into Dessie – our largest town since we left the capital, I’m riding on my last bike tubes. An unidentified problem with my front tire has eaten through my spares at an alarming rate. But not nearly as alarming as what a local boy surrounded by dozens of overly excited teenagers wants to charge me for a Made-in-China spare that’s so thick it could be used as a raft. After negotiating down to a reasonable white man price, having at least one spare puts me somewhat at ease, especially when our trips most rutted, pot-holed stretch of road is what separates us from Lalibela. Not that I’m eager to change any more flats with the sun beating down on my red neck and children competing for my money.

All of a cyclists’ arch nemeses’ – scorching sun, temperamental wind, everlasting climbs, filthy exhaust from buses, and the occasional in-bound rock from a terrified village child can be found on this highland route. But any thought of complaining is quickly quashed when we see how hard people who occupy this land are working just to accomplish the basic necessities of life. And forget about the men, it seems the women are the real work horses here. A few kilometres into another long huff and puff climb before the town of Wucale and the road is filled with women both young and old carrying on their hunched backs seemingly impossible loads of eucalyptus firewood. The mercury is pushing a hundred degrees and they’re doing this with bare feet. “It’s no problem for them, they’re used to it,” Wondy, our sleek guide and cook who looks like he could finish a marathon without breaking a sweat, tells us as we can barely find enough gears to make it to the top. I’ve never felt so humbled.

Ethiopia is a dirt poor country but it’s hard to imagine anybody in this country more destitute than those who live along the 65-kilometer plateau gravel road leading to the ram-shamble town of Gaehena. The areas plight is quickly made apparent to us as a weathered villager, dressed in a hole-filled shirt and wearing just a single plastic shoe holds his young boy in his hands pleading Scott and I to take his photo in exchange for a small donation. We oblige, hand over a few Birr notes to the man whose face has become cracked from the sun and cold and then spend the afternoon riding this plateau on what turns out to be the journeys most striking stretch of gravel. As we are surrounded by uninterrupted horizons and straw and mud huts that glow in the setting sun, I’m ashamed to be having so much fun when it seems that up here fun takes a back seat to survival. But just then two children appear out of the soaring sorghum running barefoot over the rocky road kicking an old coke bottle with smiles that you’d expect on faces of children who will never have to wonder where their next meal is coming from. I’m now even happier.  

The Ethiopian Highlands are a place of many problems. Still, the optimism and kindness of highlanders shines through. One Ethiopian proverb declares that when a spider's web forms, it can trap a lion. The people of the Ethiopian highlands have managed to trap one of the world's richest cultural experiences not to mention a kick-butt fat tire destination. Grab your bike, book your flight and go now before other faranji’s catch-on.

Want to Ride?

Guide

Very few adventure companies offer guided bicycle trips in the Ethiopian Highlands. Off Beat Roads (www.offbeatroads.com, 1-416-928-0628) do a14-day (£730) Ethiopian mountain bike trip follows this route from Addis Ababa to Lalibela and includes accommodation, van support, a cook and all the food and water you need to make it up those hills. They also offer bicycle tours in Jordan, Belize and Cambodia.

Cycleactive also offer a slightly different Ethiopia option (www.cycleacitve.co.uk)

Bike

Roads in the highlands include everything from well-paved asphalt to rough gravel with sizable potholes. The rainy season can really take a toll on these roads. Leave your road bike at home and go instead with a mountain bike. I brought slicks for the paved sections and then switched to knoobies when things got hairy.

Fitness

As the name implies, the highlands are hilly. It’s recommended that you come to Ethiopia for a bicycle or hiking trip in fairly good shape.

When to go

Ethiopia has three seasons. Bega, the long dry season, lasts from mid-September through February and is followed by Belg, a short rainy season lasting from March through April. Kiremt, the long rainy season, begins in June and lasts through August. Unless your idea of a good time is mountain biking and hiking through torrential downpours, plan your visit to coincide with the dry season.  

Just after the rainy season in late September and October is a great time to visit the highlands as the rains awash the countryside in green. There also appears to be fewer tourists during this time.

Money

Outside of Addis Ababa it is virtually impossible to obtain currency so carry with you all the funds that you think you will need. Lalibela does not even have a bank. In some larger towns like Gonder (the gateway to the Simien Mountains) with banks you can exchange currency and traveller cheques but don’t expect to find any ATMs. Good exchange rates can be found at the airport upon arrival in Addis Ababa. Cash advances from credit cards can also be obtained from the Sheraton in Addis Ababa.

The currency used in Ethiopia is the birr and 1 birr note equals approximately 15.9 pound sterling. The birr is divided into 100 cents in 1, 5, 10, 25 and 50 cent coins, and there are 1, 5, 10, 50 and 100 birr notes. Ethiopia remains one of the cheapest countries to travel within.

Internal Travel

There are buses that run pretty much everywhere in Ethiopia but this can be a torturous experience. The bus ride between Lalibela and Addis Ababa itself takes two days and is so crowded and bumpy that you’ll wish you were on your bike.

A better travel option within Ethiopia is to use the reasonably priced Ethiopian Airlines (www.flyethiopian.com). They fly to all the major destinations within the highlands on a daily basis. However, during the dry season, it’s best to book as much in advance as possible to ensure a seat is available. We were almost out of luck as we waited till we arrived in Lalibela to book flights back to the capital.

Accommodation

In Addis Ababa, the Lido Hotel (lido@telecom.net.et) has clean rooms and a nice courtyard where you can enjoy your complementary breakfast.

In Lalibela, The Seven Olives (sevenoliveshotels@yahoo.com) is your best bet. Customer service is excellent and the garden plays host to numerous native birds. The food is darn good too.

Along the way we camped, using a tent we brought with us. There were no campsites, and where necessary we asked our guide to OK our choice of site with anyone possibly in charge, like the guards in Senbete. We even spent one night camped on a football pitch, only to be loudly awoken the next day by the neighbouring mosque’s call to prayer.

Internet

Access to the World Wide Web is still a work in progress in Ethiopia. Outside of Addis Ababa internet café’s are few and far between. There appeared to be one spot in Lalibela where we could have logged-on but it was never working.

Maps

If you’re in need of a good map don’t wait till you get to Ethiopia to find one. International Travel Maps (www.itmb.com) has an acceptable map at a scale of (1:2,000,000). In the UK, Ethiopian maps can be purchased from Standfords (www.stanfords.co.uk).

Visas

Visas can be purchased upon your arrival at the Bole International airport in Addis Ababa for roughly Birr315. But be patient as the process may not necessarily be very swift. For more information on visas, inquire at the United Kingdom Ethiopian embassy (www.ethioembassy.org.uk). 

Clothing

Bring gear for both hot and cold conditions. Nights above 2000m in the highlands can get quite cold whereas down in the valley it can feel like a sauna. Bring warm cycling clothing that you can easily peel-off when things heat up.

Photography

Likely you’ll want to take a bunch of photos of the colourful locals. For the most part, I found Ethiopians did not mind having their picture taken but be courteous and ask first. Some were too frightened which was an indication of very little interaction with tourists. Carry a bunch of 1 birr notes for when you are willing to make a small donation in exchange for taking the perfect shot. Don’t expect to find any reliable photography equipment.

Safety

Being one of the world’s poorest countries, petty theft does occur but still it’s not overly prevalent. Never once did I feel my personal safety was in jeopardy even when I was riding alone and surrounded by dozens of locals. Ethiopians are very kind.

Health

In the highlands malaria is not a particular concern. However, if you plan to travel to other areas of the country, appropriate precautions may be needed. Many travellers (including yours truly) do experience some stomach troubles from contaminated food and/or water. A good travel doctor can recommend the appropriate medication to address any tummy troubles. Sunscreen and water are an absolute must to help combat the hot sun. 

Off The Saddle

North of Gonder, the Simien Mountains are Ethiopia’s premier multi-day hiking destination. Marvellous mountain scenery and native wildlife that includes Gelada baboons await trampers. Treks can be organized in Gonder and Debark.  

For more information on Ethiopia visit: www.tourismethiopia.org

Author Profile

Matthew Kadey is a Canadian-based freelance writer and photographer. In addition to Ethiopia, he has also taken cycling trips to Ireland, New Zealand, Jordan, Syria, Belize, Guatemala and various regions in North America. Matt believes that points A and B might be interesting but it’s what’s between them that’s truly remarkable. His photography can be seen at www.mattkadey.com