LET THE ADVENTURE BEGIN

This is our first update from the road. Before reading on, we would like to say a big thank you to all the people who have donated so far. As you can see, our tally is slowly and steadily growing. However, we are still seeking more donations. It doesn’t matter how big or small, it all counts and goes to a worthy cause.
By the way, I like to write, so print this update off, wait until you have some down time, grab yourself a refreshing beverage, kick back and relax, and enjoy the story! (If you want to skip the intro on Ethiopia and Addis Ababa, scroll down to “Time to ride, but it hasn’t all been pleasant” to read about our cycling experiences so far).
Please Note: I have written honestly and personally about our experience only. It isn’t necessarily a true representation of how others may experience Ethiopia. Nothing is intended to offend anybody, nor is it a guide to travel in Ethiopia.
ADDIS ABABA (ETHIOPIA) TO ARBA MINCH (ETHIOPIA) 581KM

Welcome to Ethiopia
Making it to Addis Ababa in Ethiopia was not easy. After 2 days of flying, getting picked up and dropped off at airports, resting in transit lounges, going in and out of customs, collecting baggage and unwillingly consuming disgusting plane meals (the last of which cost me a day sitting on and hovering over the toilet when we first arrived) we finally touched down at Addis Ababa. Our body clocks were all over the place, and being sick didn’t help. History tells me that in this situation Christine would tell me that my stomach wasn’t tough enough, and that if I can’t handle rough plane food then how am I going to deal with the ‘interesting’ fare that will be on offer in the coming months (ex Howqua girls will know exactly how Mrs Hopkins can be towards injury and illness – especially before fitness). But no, to my pleasant surprise she was actually very supportive and helpful which was nice.
We changed some money at the airport (we had to carry about 1 months worth of money as there are no ATM’s in Ethiopia) before negotiating a taxi fare to our hotel, which I had booked in advance. While en route to Lido Hotel, we were stopped at some traffic lights. A young boy approached the taxi window where I was seated. He only had a few teeth, was bare footed and very scruffy looking. But more strikingly, he had only half of his left arm and the butt of it didn’t look like it had been ‘neatly’ tied off. He was begging for money and mumbling something in one of the Ethiopian languages. As we drove off the taxi driver wound up the windows and locked the doors. This was our first impression of Ethiopia.
Ethiopia is a country of 73 million people, the population has a life expectancy of only 49, coffee is the major export, 83 languages are spoken with even more dialects and it has a history surrounded by war and poverty. Time is measured in 12-hour cycles beginning and ending at 6am and 6pm. So 7am is actually 1 in the day here, and 7pm is 1 in the evening. To make matters more complicated, they have a different calendar also. They celebrated Christmas two weeks after us, New Years Eve is in September sometime, and the year here is 1999. That’s right, we really are living in the past over here.

Crazy City
Negotiating different forms of traffic while leaving Addis Ababa

Addis Ababa was an interesting capital city. It is the third highest capital city in the world and lies at nearly 2400m - higher than any Australian mountain. It has a diverse mix of rich and poor, and two distinct religious populations in Muslims and Christians. Much of the city is under construction, so dust and unfinished roads and buildings seemed to dominate. Our sense of smell was also very active during our stay. The smell of fresh food and coffee could be inhaled as we walked past cafes, but more often we smelt the fresh odour of urine. Men in Addis urinate wherever they like, and in full view of passers by. They obviously have no choice, but it made for some interesting sights and smells. The hustle and bustle of everyone going somewhere throughout the sprawling city made for some interesting city adventures. The construction sites were amazing to see. Men digging huge trenches in the hard rocky ground with nothing more than a pick, and a row of men chipping away at concrete with a hammer and chisel were 2 of my observations. The scaffolding for multi storey buildings was also a sight. Put it this way, I would be very nervous working 10 stories up on their ‘slapped together’ scaffolding.
There is a huge gap between the rich and the poor within the city. We saw many well-dressed Ethiopians driving the latest Mercedes Benz or Toyota 4WD. At the other end of the scale, the majority was many poor Ethiopians roaming the streets begging for money, trying to sell random items, or cleaning the shoes of the wealthy. The begging was especially quite distressing and hard to observe. Many kids walked with us for a few hundred meters begging for money. They would spot us from far away, and then target us for money. As much as we tried to blend in, being white made us glow in the sea of black skin. It was quite draining to spend a morning roaming the streets and to be approached or walk by about 50 beggars; ranging from small children, to mothers with babies, to the elderly, to people with horrible disabilities or deformities. Some parts of South America had many beggars, but in Addis it was constant, and very sad, sometimes heartbreaking. A classic example of rich and poor was when we saw two men herding their goats past the world class Hilton Hotel. It is the first capital city where we have seen goats and sheep being walked up and down in search of green city pastures.
Security in the city was also interesting. Banks and other important buildings were always guarded with uniformed soldiers carrying automatic weapons. Our hotel also had a guard, but he was a scruffy looking man that had no weapons or uniform, and got bossed around by the female hotel staff. He made us feel safe though!
Although nothing could prepare us for the crazy city that it was, over time, we became more and more comfortable being there. However, being non-city people, we were glad to leave the hustle and bustle, and the fumes from the ancient and overused cars, and start pedalling.

Time to ride, but it hasn’t all been pleasant
Although many kids ran along next to us and were harmless and friendly, these little buggers were trying to jump on the trailer. I had to stop and negotiate with them.

A couple of cute and curious kids outside their house.
The friendly version of chasing kids.
Stopping in some places was not possible without getting mobbed. This crew were very friendly. There is a bike and trailer under there somewhere.
We liked kids who just looked and waved.One thing is for certain, there is never a dull moment while riding your bicycle through Ethiopia. So far it has brought us many fond memories of interesting villages and culture, and charming people who have survived atrocities in their country to still smile and tip their hat as we ride past. It has also been a tiring stretch, both physically and emotionally. Physically, it will take a while to get our fitness level up, so pulling our heavy loads has been tiresome. Emotionally, the Ethiopians have been extremely taxing. Each village we have cycled through has given us a different reaction, but one commonality is the intense attention we receive. This has come in the form of staring, and it has also come in the form of mobs of locals running along next to us as we cycle through their village. In the early part of this stretch, most of the attention was bearable, and it was easy to find plenty of nice and genuine Ethiopians to drown out the little shits who liked to torment us. It was still constant though, and I swear each village had an informer who sat about 500m to the north, who then relayed a message to the village chief that we are approaching, and the village chief then put an announcement over the loud speaker which went something like: “Attention everyone, and I mean everyone, STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING IMMEDIATELY. We have two Faranjis (white people) coming on bicycles and when they arrive, I want you all to stare at them, chase them if you are up to it, ask them for money and if they stop, surround them and hassle them”. This is how it felt anyway, but rarely was anyone unpleasant towards us. They always had a smile on their faces and were just curious. Going downhill was fine as we could speed away. Uphill through a town was different story. We were sitting ducks for the little kids and they knew it. They would make the most of it and run/walk beside us all the way. They found it to be a great game and lots of fun. Although it was frustrating and difficult to relax, it was harmless and rarely hostile.

On the outskirts of a town, this donkey was most likely worked until its demise.

“You, You, You … Give me da money”
The innocence and respect soon changed as we ventured further south. It suddenly became the most unpleasant place we have cycled in (which is saying a lot), because along with the attention came aggression and dislike, and hatred in some instances. I’m not sure why, and we have been bewildered as much as we have been frustrated and worn out. Demands of money, water, pens … anything were prevalent, and many people honestly believed that we should have given them something. Maybe irresponsible and thoughtless aid to this country has contributed to this attitude? I’m not sure, but their attitudes of expecting handouts from farangis was disgusting and disturbing. Shouts of: “YOU, YOU, YOU … GIVE ME DA MONEY” came from everyone, and finding nice genuine Ethiopians started to become a rarity. The occasional “fuck you” was also directed our way and suddenly our forced smiles and hellos weren’t as effective anymore. Ignoring them often invited a few rocks or fruit scraps hurled our way. It was horrible to ride through a town and be subject to such abuse and hostility. We didn’t feel in real danger, but nor did we feel welcome. In fact far from it, and it was enough for me to store a couple of rocks in my pocket as a bit of an insurance policy a few times. The stares were like southern China, and the rudeness and disrespect was like parts of Peru. Combine the two, get some kids chasing you and throwing a few rocks at you and you have a bloody unpleasant place to cycle. The invasion of personal space also became tiresome. To the locals, it is OK to touch any part of our bikes or trailers (some little buggers try and sit on the trailer as we ride, and we have had to remove the flags due to kids trying to pinch them), or us physically. Sometimes this has been a harmless handshake, but often it has been a slap as we ride past. I have learnt quickly that any reaction that may be perceived as being angry or disapproving only spurs them on more. There is nothing more entertaining than an upset and angry ginger bearded farangi on a bike. There isn’t much we can do except cop it, and this becomes quite challenging after hours and hours, and days and days of the same treatment. On more than one occasion I have lost my cool, and my male bravado took over from my brain momentarily as I chased kids through dusty streets on my bike. One kid threw something at Christine as kids were chasing us out of a town. I made a beeline towards him and he quickly made for the safety of the maze of dirty and confusing streets. I was shouting and pointing at him as I rode after him and I think a few of the locals were quite shocked. The boy disappeared, but he got the message. This was not the only time I had to turn around to seek out some kids who either threw things at us or slapped us as we rode by. Usually we could rely on the elders to tell the little kids to “piss off”, but they weren’t always around.

Stick Boys
This place didn’t include a “stick boy”, so the crowd could watch in peace.

Escaping at roadside cafés for a drink has invited much attention in towns too. It is in the owner’s best interest though, to keep us there for more business, so they have dealt with audiences making us uncomfortable swiftly and violently. As we sat in some cafés, the owner would employ a stick boy. Stick boys job was to keep the masses at bay, and if anyone came too close as to disturb us, then stick boy had free range to wield his weapon (usually a solid branch or a whip like stick). Young Ethiopian boys are very cheeky, and very brave, so they would often test out stick boy to see how close they could get to the farangis. On more than one occasion, we saw little kids running away holding their backside or arm after a whopping blow from stick boy which sure would have stung and left a red mark. When they hit each other or throw rocks at each other here, they don’t muck around and go all out. We didn’t like seeing kids get whacked by stick boy, and it was very violent, but to be honest, we didn’t feel that much sympathy. We had been tormented by plenty of little kids along the way. We really have felt all alone at times with nowhere to hide. Luckily we have always had our bikes to speed off and hope for the best with the next town.

Poor Animals
They have not only become hostile towards us, but the way they treat their horses and donkeys which pull their carts full of goods and people is downright cruel. They literally flog them until they die, after which they are sent to a crocodile farm as food. They beat them with sticks, throw rocks at them and whip them to move in the heat. The animals often have untreated wounds, are underfed and look worn out from years of hard work. Being animal lovers, this is difficult for us to accept. It is hard to see the charming side of the people so far when they treat us, and their animals, in such a disrespectful way. But this is Ethiopia, who are we to say something is right or wrong? We have no idea what they have been through and why they behave like this. We will learn to accept the people like we have in different countries. We may not enjoy or agree with the people, but we will experience their culture and accept that this is how they live.


You can’t quite make Ross out, but in the middle of this mayhem Ross is trying to ride out of a town with a mixture of friendly and not so friendly kids.

German Man

We realised we weren’t alone when one day we were riding and we saw the unmistakable image of another loaded bicycle approach from the other direction. German Man (we didn’t get his name) has been riding around the world for the last 8 years and has ridden much of what we will ride having come from Cape Town. He is on his way home via Europe and Scandinavia to finish his 9-year tour. We chatted with him on the side of the road for a while (after which I discovered that a little girl spent the time writing all over my bag which she thought was quite alright) and he was enjoying speaking to us as he hadn’t seen or spoke to another white person in about a month. He said that Ethiopia has been one of his worst countries in terms of the people being rude and disrespectful. He also said that it gets worse the further south in Ethiopia you go. This sunk our spirits as we had already had enough by then. He said that it only happens in Ethiopia and that he was counting his days before he left Ethiopia to enter Sudan. On a brighter note, he got us excited about Kenya and the rest of Africa. We have much to look forward to, including plenty of friendly locals. We are definitely getting the hardest part done first.

A Sad Day
By far the most disturbing thing we have witnessed was a poor donkey getting hit by a truck. We were cycling along one day and we had had a few incidents with pesky kids chasing us throughout the morning. On numerous occasions I was having verbal disputes with kids to tell them to stop chasing, asking for money and grabbing on to everything as we sweated our way through towns. One little kid slapped Christine on the bum. I turned around to chase him but he scampered away into the maze of dirty and dusty streets nowhere to be seen. We wanted and needed a break, and this only came in secluded parts of the road between towns. Along this stretch though, there were people everywhere, and finding a spot on the side of the road to eat our bananas and bread without an audience was not easy. We finally spotted a vacant patch of grass, and pulled over. Like always, before too long an audience had gathered out of nowhere. We weren’t very friendly has we had experienced quite a draining morning, and just needed some space. A group of teenage boys were herding their dozen or so donkeys along the road, so naturally they stopped to analyse and laugh at the farangis eating on the side of the road. Meanwhile, their donkeys were all over the road enjoying a rare moment of freedom and not being hit with a stick. A huge tanker rounded the bend and made little effort to brake before he collected the back half of one of the donkeys. It went down, with its back legs, pelvis and back clearly broken and mangled. Its head was not hit, and the impact was at a speed which was not enough to kill the donkey. It did not die, but just lay on the road in obvious excruciating pain. There was a lot of shouting as the truck sped off, and a few of the boys started chasing the truck. The peaceful rest spot had turned into chaos as this poor donkey lay on the road unable to get up. There was nothing we could do, so reluctantly we rode off. We were very shaken, and very upset. As we left they were standing around the donkey, I suppose wondering what to do. It would have died eventually; I just hope it was put out of its misery sooner rather than later. It was horrible, and we were in quite a lot of shock for the next part of the day. Enough shock to lose our security instincts, which was exploited by a group of kids in the next crazy town as they relieved Christine of her bread and biscuits off her trailer.

Cycle in Ethiopia and you can cycle anywhere!
Ethiopia so far has been an experience, and as we read about our friends (the Devers) riding in Asia, we have longed for the friendliness of the Thai, Laos and Cambodian people. Ethiopia will be a country we’ll look back at and be glad we cycled through, but not one we’ll rush back to in a hurry. We knew it would be challenging, and this trip is not supposed to be holiday. It is an adventure, and a trip to visit and experience the way different cultures live. So if you are feeling sorry for us at some of our trying times, DON’T, because we wouldn’t have it any other way. We consider ourselves lucky to be able to experience such a different country, and although it has been mostly unpleasant, tiring and frustrating, it is all part of the adventure. Being optimists though, we still have high hopes for the next stretch. We have much more cycling to go in Ethiopia as we venture into the remote part of south-western Ethiopia where traditional villages live how they have always lived, and remain distant from the modern world (so far we have encounted an Ethiopia which is extremely poor, but is trying to join the modern world. It is not working very well). We are excited about this change of scenery, and we are hopeful that our image of Ethiopia and its people will be restored. We will also venture into wild animal territory, which we can’t wait for (the only African animal we have seen so far has been road kill – a hyena). German Man told us of memorable encounters with wild elephants, hyenas and even lions. One thing we aren’t looking forward to is 100’s of km of rough and bumpy unpaved roads. We have only ridden 50km of dirt road so far and it was tough going. South-western Ethiopia and north-western Kenya are renowned for terrible roads, and long stretches of nothing … that is why it is so remote. Oh, in case you were wondering, the food has been getting “more challenging”, and the weather has been scorching. Challenging and interesting days lie ahead!