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Wandering North

Chronicling my travel adventures since 2007

  • Home
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      • Algeria
      • Benin
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Tag: solo travel

Posted inAsia Nepal Nepal Trip 2016

Kathmandu – Durbar Square

After breakfast this morning i set off on foot in Kathmandu from Thamel to Durbar Square. This was no easy feat. My map was mostly useless, due to the tangle of signless streets, so i headed vaguely south. The air was wonderfully cool and the city was fairly peaceful. Several wrong turns and false starts later, the temples emerged in front of me, shrouded in pigeons. Success! The journey though was also terrific, taking me through less touristy neighbourhoods and past scenes of daily life.

Durbar Square is at the heart of Kathmandu and is home to numerous temples, shrines and palaces. It is also busy with locals, worshiping, selling wares, and lounging on the steps. Sadly much of the square was badly damaged in the earthquake last year. The largest temple was completely destroyed and many others damaged. There are piles of rubble and wooden supports holding up the remaining buildings, but it is still amazing to explore.

Many of the statues and much of the ground are still stained with the colors of the Holi festival early in the week. People selling singing bowls, prayers wheels, and religious bric-a-brac. People feeding the hoards of pigeons. Rickshaw drivers waiting for their next fare. Women selling nuts and marigold chains.

It was delightful. The oddest moment was visiting the temple that is home to Kumari, the living goddess. I was told that in minutes she would be making her daily appearance so i decided to hang out and wait. How often can one see a goddess in the flesh? Worshipped by Nepali Buddhists and some Hindus, she is believed to be the reincarnation of a particular goddess. The Kumari is selected from a particular caste when she is very young, like 4, and is picked based on various physical characteristics (i.e. Eyelashes like a cow, neck like a conch, etc.) and following a series of trials (including spending the night in a room filled with severed animal heads without fear). Once selected she serves as the goddess until puberty, at which point she is replaced. No photos are allowed. She finally came to the window on the 2nd floor and sat for our viewing. She was dressed in what appeared to be fine robes and wore dramatic makeup (think Jon Benet Ramsay meets Amy Winehouse). She sat for a minute, if that, looking bored, and than disappeared. Weird and a little awkward.

While waiting for Kumari, i met a nice English woman traveling the world. We hung out for bit and had coffee (the first truly good coffee i have had on this trip), wandered around and saw the rest of Durbar Square, and then went for lunch on “Freak Street” (so named because it was popular with the hippies who traveled to Kathmandu in the late ’60s and early ’70s). For lunch i had my first mo mos: delicious steamed dumplings served with spicy sauce, sold everywhere.

Parting ways with my lovely lunch companion, i wandered around the streets just north of Durbar Square, taking in the sights and crowds. There are shrines everywhere. The streets were so busy that it wasn’t always possible to get pictures, but i did ok.

I decided to take a rickshaw back to Thamel. My first rickshaw! It was very fun snaking through the streets, a bit above the chaos, on the bumpy wheels.

Arriving back, i walked over to the Garden of Dreams, a small and elegantly landscaped green space on the edge of Thamel and sat until i was bored.

I didn’t do much for the rest of the day. A walk, a delicious dinner of traditional Nepalese dal bhat, and a cigar in a pleasant courtyard decorated with flowering shrubberies, prayer flags, and twinkly lights.

Read More about Kathmandu – Durbar Square
Posted on 25 March 16
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Posted inAsia Nepal Nepal Trip 2016

Nepal – Arrival in Kathmandu

The first time i seriously started planning the logistics and itinerary for visiting Nepal was about 6 months before their devastating earthquake that happened just about a year ago. The the earthquake happened, the Kathmandu valley was devastated and many were dead, so that particular trip planning was put on hold.

Then, in December, i was at home watching an ’80s favourite movie – the Eddie Murphy classic “The Golden Child”. This is a movie generally recognized for its place on many lists of worst movies, but i like it. In the movie Eddie Murphy travels to Kathmandu and, inexplicably, they filmed the movie’s Nepal and Tibet scenes not on a Hollywood sound stage, but in Nepal. Seeing the tiered temples, prayer wheels, monks, and magic made me think: “It’s time to go to Nepal.” And one week later my flight was booked.

I did decide to spend a few days in Delhi on the way here, but here, in Kathmandu, i arrived yesterday afternoon. I immediately knew i loved it.

Flying in, the city looked like a mouthful of yellowed, broken teeth. Driving through it it looked equally ramshackle, but so interesting. We passed the river where bodies are ritually cremated in the open. Next to that is a temporary carnival with a ferris wheel so rickety even i wouldn’t dare to ride it. The rickshaws are all decorated with flowers and colored cloth and bits of mirror. Women wear colorful silks and the older men wear hats like woolen tea cozies. The narrow streets are hung with prayer flags and for sale everywhere are so many appealing looking textiles and handicrafts. It is busy, but less chaotic than New Delhi.

The area i am staying in is called Thamel and it is the backpacker area. A maze of narrow streets with trekking gear, souvenirs, hostels, and cafes and restaurants with ‘peace’, ‘karma’, and ‘yeti’ built into the names. I am staying at the Karma Traveller’s guest house. My room is a bit cozy and has a nice patio with flowers.

A few things of note. In Nepal the year is currently 2071 and their time is 12 hours and 45 minutes ahead of Vancouver. It is a poor country and, sadly, women are treated very poorly, particularly outside of the cities. I’ll spare you the depressing details. Electricity here is a problem and comes on and goes off for certain times every day, as well as randomly. It is primarily a Hindu and Buddhist country. Nepali is spoken here. In less than 24 hours i have now said ‘namaste’ about 1000 times. Mount Everest is here, and yetis. That’s enough. I’m not an encyclopedia. I’m not even wikipedia.

So last night i went for a wander before it got dark. It was busy and completely delightful. I had a bit of dinner at a garden restaurant listening to traditional, live Nepalese music and watching cricket on tv. I promptly threw up my dinner (which was weird, because for the first time in days i feel not at all sick). I settled my stomach with my first cigar in Nepal; fittingly, a Ghurka.

This morning i got up early and went walking in the crisp (albeit polluted and dusty) air and got breakfast. And here i sit. My plan now is to walk to Durbar Square. More to some.
Namaste (1001).

Read More about Nepal – Arrival in Kathmandu
Posted on 24 March 16
2
Posted inAsia India Nepal Trip 2016

A lost afternoon in Delhi

I tried to sleep off my sickness; a plan that was partly successful. I awoke a bit less achy and a bit hungry. Moving slowly, I had breakfast at the hostel. The rooftop was crowded full of young backpackers, traveling in large groups or as couples. I did find one other solo traveler to chat with and we swapped stories over our puri, bread, and bananas.

Today there were just a couple of things I wanted to see, but mostly I was looking forward to the journey. I took the Metro south (i am seriously in love with this metro system – cheap, easy to navigate, women-only cars, and the trains come every minute, literally. Signage told me that obstructing the metro car doors can land you four years in prison, but I can see why with that marvelous efficiency.) I got off near the Lodi Gardens, which i wanted to visit, and promptly turned in the wrong direction and spent the next hour lost, wandering through some quasi-residential neighbourhood, which was quite pleasant – leafy and a bit quiet with a slightly diminished cacophony of horns.

So I walked back to the metro station, this time turning right instead of left, and went to the lovely and leafy Lodhi gardens, which are dotted with mausoleums, ice cream vendors, and couples laying in the grass. I walked around for a while and then napped on a bench under a tree.

I then walked on a busy and uninspired road forever before stumbling upon the Lodhi Hotel, where I ducked in for a cigar and a beverage. The hotel is super fancy and i was sure I would be denied entry, but they welcomed me and set me up in a pretty courtyard with birds and statues, and i smoked a Cohiba Behike and generally chilled out.

Back on the street i walked and was trying to find Hazrat Nizam-ud-din Dargah (a shrine) I never did find it but I sure had a great time looking. I ended up in a labyrinthine marketplace, which was very clearly in the Muslim part of town. The signs had switched to Arabic, the men wore tradition Middle Eastern clothes, and the women were covered head to toe to fingertip in black (a color choice I can get behind), with not even slits for their eyes (a visual impairment i cannot). The market was great. Crowded and noisy. People selling carpets and wall hangings with passages from the Koran, halal butchers, sellers of dates and bananas. I had a great wander, but then I turned one corner and a bunch of men started shouting at me. Not angrily, but with urgency. I had stumbled into some entrance to a holy area, I think, but I couldn’t discern if they wanted me to take off my shoes or leave because it was men only. Either way, I politely backed up and turned around, but before leaving I bought a toothbrush, as I had dropped mine in a pool of stagnant water next to a toilet that morning.

From there I went to Humayun’s Tomb (which is not located on the lonely planet map as indicated) and visited the mid-16th C complex of tombs and gardens. It was beautiful.

I hired a tuk tuk (haggling successfully and theatrically) to take me back to the nearest Metro station and i returned to the hostel where I napped for too long. It is now 11pm and I am sitting on a balcony drinking ginger lemon honey tea and watching the activities in the street. The air is perfect and i feel good.
Tomorrow I leave for Kathmandu.

Read More about A lost afternoon in Delhi
Posted on 22 March 16
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Posted inAsia India Nepal Trip 2016

Agra

After a restless two hours of sleep I awoke on my second day in India ready for a long day trip to Agra. This would by my one escorted tour of the trip. I knew I could manage a day trip to see the Taj Mahal on my own, but Agra has so many great, far flung sights, that booking a guide seemed prudent.

I left for the train station at 5:15 am, at which time the station was teeming with people. Some waiting for trains, but many more sleeping or camped out with bags and carpets.

The train to Agra was great. The day before a man i chatted with told me that i should not take the train and that i should cancel and take the bus because the train is not safe for a woman traveling alone. That certainly was not my experience. It was rough-looking but comfortable and the price included water, tea, breakfast, dinner, and ice cream. I am fairly sure however that it was the breakfast that left me sick and vomiting for the rest of the day. I still have no appetite. Anyway, the ride was great. I got to see some of the countryside and also number of residential areas which i can only describe as slums, with modest, broken habitats, and piles of garbage. We also passed parts where there were dozens of men squatting and shitting by the railroad tracks. So many of them. I never seen anyone defecate before and now I have seen more than I can count. I guess you have to go somewhere. On a similar vein, I also saw women making and leaving to dry dinner plate sized cow patties which were then stacked up into tall mounds, like large beehives. The dung is used for fuel.

So I arrived in Agra at about 8am and was met by my guide, who took me right away to the Taj Mahal. I am so glad we did this first, as this was just before the vomiting and painful muscle aches set in. The Taj Mahal did not disappoint. The walk into the complex was impressive and along the way were working camels and curious monkeys. Finally, we stepped in, passed through a gate that in its own right was amazing, and then were facing “The Taj”, as my guide called it (but I won’t call it that; i haven’t earned that level of familiarity).

It was beautiful in all of its gleaming white symmetry. He told me the history and noted the architectural details – sometimes it is great to have that available. We circled it, with me taking a zillion pictures, and then we left.

Out next stop was after a long ride into the country. We visited Fatehpur Sikri which was a former, walled city from the 15th C. It was quite magnificent and i enjoyed looking at it and hearing about the king and his many wives, but at this point i started to feel lousy.

After that was lunch, which i spent throwing up as soon as i had my first and only bite of lentils. Following lunch we visited the Agra fort, which was also great and beautiful. By this point though i was aching so badly walking was unpleasant and i threw up in a garbage can.

I rallied a bit after that and my guide and i went to sit in the gardens across the river from the Taj Mahal to watch the sunset. I had a cigar and he told me all sorts of things about life in India, women’s roles, poverty, education, religion…you name it. It was very edifying and he answered all of my questions.

After the sun went down and we finished watching tourists taking idiotic pictures of the Taj Mahal (holding it in the palms of their hands, picking it up by their fingertips, making archways with their arms over it…seriously moronic, but each to their own i suppose), i still had over two hours to kill until my train and i couldn’t eat or drink anything, so i suggested we find a hookah bar, which we did. It was a divey place, nearly empty, except for a few guys working there and playing the loudest, most annoying rave/club music imaginable. I was just happy to sit down and the shisha was good, even if it was smoked from a hookah that had as the neck a replica AK47.

The train ride back was a lost to me in sleep and i crashed as soon as i returned to the hostel. The day was a good one, but a long one, and i felt like garbage. I knew i would get sick at some point on this trip, but i thought i would make it longer than 36 hours.

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Posted on 21 March 16
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Posted inAsia India Nepal Trip 2016

Hello, Delhi

My trip to Nepal starts in New Delhi. The flights I was looking at at all went through New Delhi, so I thought i should spend a few days there. I hadn’t been to India before. I have wanted to but just hadn’t made it. Too many places within it to visit made it intimidating to try to cram in to 2-3 weeks, but on this trip I can at least see Delhi.

I arrived after over 24 hrs of travel, flying through Shanghai. I landed in New Delhi at 2am, but by the time I made it through immigration, baggage, and money changing it was 3:30. I took a rickety taxi to my hostel. The drive was great. The air was warm and the traffic light so we sped through the streets, with the driver telling me about the Holi festival, helping me with my Hindi, and spotting monkeys. We also smoked in the taxi. An invitation to smoke in a taxi is always welcome.

As we drove into the area where my hostel is in the main bazaar area of Pahar Ganj, the streets narrowed and we dodged early morning rickshaws, people sleeping in the streets, piles of stuff, and cows chilling out eating scraps left over from the market. I took all of this that i was staying in the right area.

My hostel is the Smyle Inn, a modest budget hostel on a narrow side street. I have a room which lacks any charm and while it doesn’t look it, i believe it to be clean. The staff are very nice and helpful and there is a free breakfast. I am content.

I slept for 2 hours, ate and headed out.

The streets that had been quiet a few hours earlier were and are now wonderful madness. A whirlwind of rickshaws, tuk tuks, scooters, bicycles, vendors with carts of food and other items, medium sized brown dogs, and pedestrians. No sidewalks, so i snaked my way through it all, brushing against the people and motorists.

I made my way to the nearest metro station and rode a few stops north into Old Delhi, which is all the chaos of the previous neighbourhood, but intensified. Men called out constantly, wanting me to take their rickshaws, wanting money, trying to sell my things, or just wanting to talk. This will grow tiresome, but today i minded it not at all. That being said, their was one boy who followed me for blocks. He spoke no English but walked too close and chattered to me. I shooed him away repeatedly and with increasing sternness. Finally, when I though he was gone, he grabbed my ass and ran off.

I walked through a market, past a bird hospital (imagining parrots with tiny wing casts and crutches), and went to the Red Fort, one of New Delhi’s main attractions. It was a complex of lovely buildings set in a peaceful park. It was pleasant but not amazing.

From there i walked for ages, convinced i could find my was to Jama Masjid, India’s largest mosque. Miraculously, despite the dearth of street signs, i found it. It is a massive mosque, teeming with tourists. Beautiful, but not on par with those of Egypt or Uzbekistan. The tourists detracted from the solemnity i think. I did relish in the mandatory shoe removal, wandering in stocking feet on the worn, warm stones.

I went back out into the streets. I walked, again for ages, to Connaught Place, a very British designed, circular shopping complex, with wide sidewalks, and a nice park in the centre, where i sat under a tree for a while, people watching.

I then walked, stopped for lunch at a vegetarian restaurant where i was overwhelmed with options, and walked down to the India gate where throngs of people strolled around and sat in the park or splashed and bathed in the pools in the park.

At this point it was only afternoon, but i was exhausted. I took the metro back to my neighbourhood through more markets and then for a nap.

A note about the metro. It is great. Cheap, fast, and there are stations all over the city. You have to go through metal detectors and get wanded to board, but the security does not seem very thorough. Each train has a car just for women. I rode the train three times today. The first time i rode in a regular car, which is just like riding in any crowded subway. The second two times i rode in the ladies’ car, which i think i will do from now on. It is far less crowded and it smells infinitely better. Plus, there are no men chatting me up.

I am amazed by the women here, how dressed up they are in beautifully coloured saris, with glittering jewelry and sandals, exquisitely long hair, and beautiful makeup. I felt so scruffy by comparison.

After my nap i went out for a stroll and to a restaurant for some dal and tea and a cigar on a nice second storey balcony, overlooking the street, enjoying a cigar.

Before coming here everyone told me how bad the city smelled, but this has not been my experience today. Sure, sometimes i would pass a spot that reeked of urine or body odor or exhaust, but more often i was treated to the wonderful smells of strong incense, roses, and frying chilies and spices. No complaints here.

Ready for bed now. Tomorrow i head to Agra for the day.

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Posted on 20 March 16
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Posted inCentral America / Caribbean Cuba

Our Woman in Havana

I was undecided about what to do with my final day in Havana. Obviously there would be walking, but i wanted some sort of loose destination. Musing over my morning cigar, i discovered that every Sunday afternoon there is an area with live rumba music. Good enough. Little did i then know that the destination would be even better than live music. I set off through Havana Vieja, past Parque Central, down Calle San Rafael for many blocks, until tourists thinned out and were replaced with local residents doing their daily activities. I tried not to be too obvious as i snapped photos.

I found my way to my destination – Callejon de Hamel – wondering where the live music would be and whether i would even be able to find it. It wasn’t hard. The short street, closed to cars, is lined, crammed, and towered by art. Graffiti, sculpture. Benches made from painted, repurposed bathtubs, courtyards filled with scrap metal totems, the sides of buildings covered with murals…even some art studios, open for visiting.

There were a couple of cafes/studios which were filled with an acceptable mix of locals and visitors. Most of the locals were afrocuban and spoke good English and were happy to tell me about this neighborhood, the artists, and the free programs for autistic and disabled children provided there. I had the local drink – a Negro (like a mojito but with basil instead of mint) – bought a couple of cds of rumba music and took in the sights.

At noon the bands started to play. All percussionists, singers, and dancers. All but one were women and they played the most infectious music. The crown pressed in and climbed up the sides of the buildings to get a prime view. I stayed until the rains started and then headed back to old Havana for an early dinner.

I did of course, stop off for a final cigar at the Partagas Factory VIP room.

What glory! Back in old Havana i found a restaurant that served pizza! Not the barely warm white bread covered with a whisper of sauce and tasteless white cheese that is ubiquitous in Havana, but actual crispy, chewy pizza with tasty sauce and four vegetables. It was great. I celebrated by having a glass of wine and pair of Ramon Allones robustos. I enjoyed a chat with a couple of local travellers from Germany and listened to some decent jazz from the band on the corner.

I have to say, the food has been better than i expected in Havana. Everyone told me that as a non-egg-eating vegetarian i would have nothing to eat, so i packed granola bars, almonds, and cranberries. True, there is not a great variety for vegetarians and the food is bland, but there is lots to eat.

When the evening came i went to the Hotel Inglaterra where, despite its gorgeous appearance has dismal service and drinks, i met with Stripes’ friend Rosalita. Rosalita had mentioned the other night some no-longer-in-production Limited Edition Cohibas she had a line on. Stripes was leaving but i agreed to meet up and get the coveted cigars. I felt like a drug buyer as a sat on the patio, trying to look casual as i stirred the sugar at the bottom of my watery mojito and eyed the crowd for Rosalita’s face, looking at my watch occasionally. The covert nature of the transaction was entirely necessary as Rosalita could spend years in prison for selling us the cigars, as could the person she bought them from. I smoked a comically large cigar, which did nothing to help the invisibility i was seeking. Finally she showed up, sat down, and ordered a beer. We chatted for a bit about tattoos and the availability of American music in Cuba before i asked, “Do you have the cigars?” She nodded and, just below table height, opened a satchel just enough for me to look in and take a deep whiff of the leathery, barn-yardy smelling cigars. I slid an envelope of money to her across the table. She passed me the satchel of cigars under the table. We finished our drinks, i declined a drive, and i made my final way home, finishing my cigar just as i put the key into the lock.

Havana has been a good trip. Not particularly different or exciting, but enjoyable and relaxing. The best part was the cigar culture and cigar experiences and having some friends there to share that with and to open doors to experiences that i would not otherwise have had. Oh, i decided to keep count of the cigars (not counting cigarillos) i smoked and coffees i drank – for no particular reason other than curiosity. 9 days, 31 coffees, 40 cigars. That adds up to a good trip.

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Posted on 23 November 15
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Posted inCentral America / Caribbean Cuba

Casablanca, Havana

Saturday morning in Havana started a bit late, due to the late night spent smoking in the park the night before. With Stripes and Noodles en route back to Canada, i was on my own. After my late breakfast i walked down to the water and caught a ferry across the water to Casablanca. By “ferry” i mean a simple, standing room only open sided boat that takes people across for a fee (half a peso). The ride was pleasant and gave nice views of the old city across the water. It was all locals on the boat, except for me and one guy from Chicago, with whom i chatted on the way.

On the other side, for being so close, Casablanca had a slightly different feel, a little less precious, quieter. I walked up a hill toward the giant statue of (surprisingly) Jesus on the hill.

And from there down a pleasant road bordered by attractive army buildings and rockets, missiles, and planes on display. I paid to go into the fort – the one that is always visible across the water from Havana.

The fort wasn’t very interesting really, but the views and breeze were nice. After a bit though i was satisfied that no sight was left unseen and i boated back across. This time the fare was twice as much but i didn’t care enough to complain.

After a great nap, i decided to visit the bars on my street (Calle Brasil) that i had not yet visited. I went to a couple of cool ones that played rock music and featured abstract black and white photography or showed awesome adult cartoons on TVs. I had a mojito (i don’t actually like mojitos, but i don’t drink beer and mojitos are cheap and seem Cuba appropriate) and a plate of yummy olives, cheese, bread. These bars were cool and not just Havana cool; they would be awesome haunts anywhere.

I also stopped on a block unlit by street lamps and filled with off duty bicycle taxi drivers and avocado sellers and watched people in a small store, leaning on a counter and shooting bebe guns at rows of empty soda cans on the back wall. There didn’t appear to be any prizes, just the fun of shooting things. I waited around for a turn, but the men shooting had no interest in giving up their guns, so i wandered down to the Plaza De San Francisco for a virgin Piña Colada and cigar on the square and watched the throngs hanging out in the cooling air.
(You would think i might be tired of cigars in plazas by now, but I’m not even close.)

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Posted on 22 November 15
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Posted inEthiopia Trip 2015 Europe Germany

Addis Ababa to Frankfurt

I arrived in Frankfurt from Addis Ababa and had a brief layover – 7 hours or so – but it was long enough to leave the airport and go for a walk in the city. Frankfurt was kind of a perfect place to have such a layover. I have never been interested in going there and it lacks ‘must-see’ sights, so i could wander without feeling any pressure to do or see anything in particular. I did do some planning and determined ahead of time where the best/most scenic places would be to go (the less time in a place, the more planning required).

I passed by the disinterested customs/immigration officials and caught the easy and efficient train to central Frankfurt.

After my weeks in Ethiopia, and most recently Addis, the air felt so cool and fresh. I arrived early in the morning and it was a Monday so the streets were mostly quiet and then filled with suits off to work and a few buses of tourists, waving a plethora of selfie sticks.

The city was…nice. Attractive and clean, with some pretty, historic and very German buildings, some public art, waterways and bicycles. It wasn’t remarkable or amazing, but it was nice. Sort of like a German version of Vancouver.

I had a great coffee and bread and cheese for breakfast from a cafe on a pretty square. My first non-Ethiopian food in a while, which made it especially delicious.

The best thing about my hours in Frankfurt was that no one spoke to me unless i spoke to them first. No one said hello or smiled. No one asked me where i was from or what my name was, how old i was, if i had children, etc. I think i dealt fine with the constant barrage of attention from locals on the street in Ethiopia, and it is nice, i suppose, to have connections and interactions with strangers, but at my heart i like to walk down the street and have no one care or pretend to care. That urban, western disinterest felt so welcome and comfortable on that morning and was probably my favourite thing about Frankfurt.

Back to the airport, i flew to Vancouver, another trip concluded.

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Posted on 18 May 15
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Posted inAfrica Ethiopia Ethiopia Trip 2015

Back to Addis Ababa

I left Lalibela the morning after the day of my mule trek. I awoke that day feeling like i might die. Fever, vomiting, and excruciating soreness all over. Thankfully my sightseeing was complete or it would have spoiled the day, but as it was the day was mostly travel: Waiting around for a bus to get to the airport, waiting at the airport, flying to Addis, and then waiting for a shuttle to my hotel. By the time i arrived and settled, all i wanted to do was have a cigar and a bath and go to bed. A word about my hotel, i figured that by the end of my trip i would be worn down, tired, dirty – all of which are true – so i had booked my last two nights in Addis at the Hilton, which is super fancy. I felt like a hick walking in in the same outfit I’ve been wearing for the past 2+ weeks, smelling of sweat, mule, and probably vomit, but it was the perfect place to actually relax for a change and get some rest. And, as it turns out, there are lots of great places here to curl up with a cigar and enjoy some overpriced coffee.

Thankfully, my sickness turned out to be a 24 hour thing and i awoke the next morning read to take on the city.
I walked north of the hotel through a bit of a park like area and came upon a big church with a wedding procession outside. It was lovely, with people singing and clapping and drums being played as the couple paraded around the church.

I didn’t get to go inside the church but all around it were giant tortoises, like the kind that may easily be 100 years old. That was neat.

From there i walked up to the National Museum, which houses a small but satisfying array of Ethiopian historical artifacts and artwork, in addition to the remains of “Lucy” the oldest or most famous found skeletal remains of an Australopithecus, a precursor to homo sapiens, dating back about 3.2 million years, which is pretty amazing. (Look, I’m not a scientist. If you want some detailed info on Lucy, google her.) People all throughout my trip have been encouraging me to go see my “great grandmother Lucy” and they are understandably proud that we can presently locate the ancestors of all mankind to Ethiopia.

After that i walked further north past various traffic circles and busy street scenes, enjoying the walk and stopping for fresh mango juice or coffee.

I walked up to the university and wandered around a before checking out the Ethnographic Museum, which had a good art gallery as well as very interesting displays on cultural practices of people in different parts of the country.

It was all very enjoyable and quite walkable, though by the end of it i was content to stay in and enjoy a cigar on the hotel patio, by the palms.

Today i resolved to walk to the Mercato (yes, they use the Italian word for market). This was quite a walk from the hotel, made more difficult by the fact that i didn’t have a maq, but i knew it was in the north east and near a really big mosque and i was delighted that i was able to find it without having to haggle for a taxi fare. I was less delighted that, being Sunday, the market was rather quiet and most of the surrounding businesses closed. It still made for a satisfying walk though, and one which i followed up by walking to Meskel Square and down Bole Road and back. Trust me, this was a long walk. Nothing of any great interest occurred, but it gave me my final glimpses of Addis before i head to the airport this evening.

And that, is pretty much that for Ethiopia. It has been a wonderful trip which has exceeded my expectations and has been a far easier trip than i expected. Terrific sights, cities, people, food, a d experiences. I only regret that i do not have time to see the many other parts of the country, which look so appealing. But it is back to work for me, with just a bit of a visit to Frankfurt en route.
Flying soon.
d

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Posted on 17 May 15
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Posted inAfrica Ethiopia Ethiopia Trip 2015

Travels With My Mule

The day before yesterday i was sitting in a pleasant cafe near the centre of Lalibela when a local guy showed up and started talking to me. I politely if a bit tersely went though my rote answers to the usual questions: Canada. Vancouver. Just about 3 weeks. Ethiopia is very beautiful and the people are very friendly. (All of which is true.) but this guy persisted and i actually gave him the time to talk. I had been planning on going on an excursion by car the next day to see some pf the countryside and outlying churches, but this guy had a better idea-to go into the mountains by mule and visit a monastery and a village. This sounded like a way better idea, so i agreed to meet him early the next morning.

When i pictured a journey by mule i imagined leisurely strolls down wide forrest paths on my trusty…mule.

It certainly started out that way but when we started to really as end the mountain the mules were climbing up very steep inclines over not so much paths but trails of jagged, large broken rock. At times the trail was comfortably wide but in many places it narrowed to about 3 feet with a mountain face on one side and a sharp drop off on the other. As i have little or no experience riding beasts of burden, at times this was nerve wracking, but also exciting.

Finally we reached a place where the path became too narrow for the mules so we continued on foot on narrow path hugging the cliff face until we reached a short, day-lit tunnel, climbed up a scramble of rocks and reached a monastery where the on duty monk or priest showed us many religious texts and items by candlelight.

After that there was more hiking; the sort that requires one’s focus not to pick the wrong rock to step on and slide to one’s doom. It was good though.

When we reached the next flat bit we rode the mules again to a village where we went to a local traditional house where a family of four lives. The house, made of mud and straw with a peaked wooden roof, is about 8 feet in diameter and contains one room on top (where the family lives) and one room on the bottom (where the livestock live). It was pretty cozy, but it’s hard not to think about 4 people living in this tiny mud room with no electricity or water and the fact that it is about an hour’s hike down a tricky mountain to the nearest town.

The two girls and mother did not speak English, but the boy did and he told me about their village and his school which his sister handled the coffee ceremony. They also provided injera and some spicy wat, as well as spiced wheat berries for snacks. They were very hospitable and it was a great experience.

The rest of the way down was a combo of mule riding and hiking when the decline was too steep.
It was a fantastic day, but left me thoroughly exhausted, with only enough energy for dinner and tea.

Read More about Travels With My Mule
Posted on 14 May 15
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About Wandering North

Welcome to Wandering North, where I have been blogging about my travels since 2007.

Dale Raven North

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