Sat 1 Feb 2014 (24 Tir 2006) to Lalibela

Sat 1 Feb 2014 (24 Tir 2006) to Lalibela Carol is sad to leave Mekele with no more than a cursory look - our first non tourist town since Addis. We get up at 4 and are at the bus station just before 5 AM. There is no direct bus to Lalibela. It is really out-of-t he-way and hare to get to. Even Selambus does not go there. We need to take a bus south to Woldia (6 hrs), then take a local bus from Woldia to Lalibela (6 hrs). In the lot there is a bus from Mekele to Woldia. It is loading, but we didn't buy a ticket in advance, so we cannot get on the full bus. There is, however, an Addis Ababa bus which will take us to Woldia as it passes through, so we get on and our baggage goes on top. The direct bus to Woldia might have cost 80 birr, but the Addis bus is 113 birr each to go as far as Woldia. Worth the small change. We are off at about 5:45 AM. The sun rises in beautiful mountain country. About 7:30 AM we stop for some reason or other. Three girls, all carrying trays of munchies (roasted barley or wheat?) run to hop on the bus. The bus starts to move. One manages to get off, but two of them are hauled about 15 km up the mountain to a nowhere stop before they are allowed get off. We have no idea now they were going to get back where they started. Most of the buses coming through this isolated area are full. Vending is a tough business in these parts. We stop for 20 minutes at Alamata. The old read has a large drop like the one north of Debark (see 27 Jan). However, there is a new road going to east that all "sensible" bus drivers take (it skips the town of Maychew, so if you are going there, you are SOL). At Alamata we purchase some coffee and Mike buys his first guava. Not as ripe as he envisioned, but tasty nonetheless. It is important to note that the pronunciation of Lalibela may be La-lee-bela, or may be Lali-bell-a. We could never get anyone to clarify this point. Whatever it is, this town is the crown of the northern historic circuit. We pull into Woldia, somewhere around noon. There is a byus waiting to go to Lalibela. Surprise, our two Iowa friends and the Belgian are already on the bus. They are occupying the last row, a 5-seater that has the only available seats. The correct (non-foreigner) fare is apparently 68 or 72 birr or something, but they had endured a large bargaining fight to get it down to 100 each, so 100 it is. The five of us are stuck in the wayback seat. So we squeeze our bottoms in - Mike next to Diane, who has the right window seat. Carol next to Ivo, who has the left window seat. Iowa Mike is in the middle. Mike has a lively conversation with Diane. Iowa Mike listens to his iPod, and Ivo hangs half out the window. Carol shrinks in the silent seat. Soon we leave, climbing steadily uphill on the "China road," an east-west road built by the Chinese to connect Bahir Dar/Gonder to Woldia in the 1970s, and improved several times since. Roughly halfway across is the town of Gashena, which is where we are heading. At about 3 PM we are in Gashena. Here the bus turns north to travel the last 60 or so km to Lalibela. Here also the few passengers from the west connect. Even though our bus appears to be full, one younger foreign woman is waiting patiently to get on. There is a squat toilet block (on an adjoining school property?). Carol goes to use it, but is told to pay a bogus fee, then is chased by a really mean local boy. She manages to get to one behind the building, but has to hold the door closed with one leg, against the harassment. We are waiting and waiting. For what? Are we now the last bus of the day and therefore unable to leave EARLY? We certainly did not see any further buses come in to the bus lot. Finally, after 4, we load and are off. We turn the corner and load apx 15 loacls, even though the bus is alreadly full. We wander through rural Ethiopia, treading downhill to cross a couple of rivers. Carol became friends with 2 9 year-old girls, who enjoy showing off their English words. We had a merry time with the International Kwikpoint Guide [a picture atlas of objects useful for tourists]. Among the fruits shown, the grapefruit mystified them both, as did the phone symbol-a black hand receiver. One proud poppa beamed at his daughter's language facility. Eventually, she even curled up in Carol's lap and slept awhile. The kids and some other adult passengers enjoyed seeing Carol's family photos. What a nice interlude on a grueling bus trip. As it starts to get dark, we finally arrive in the Lalibela bus station, two hard uphill kilometers from the center of town, where many of the hotels are. Our seatmates have a place to stay (Heaven Guesthouse) and they are being picked up. For us, however, no taxis, buses, or anything. After about 5 minutes a minibus comes along. 20 birr to take each of us and our bags uphill to town seems a little steep, but what are going to do? In town, we are at the Seven Olives Hotel, which we have chosen from the guidebooks. This 60 year old property, owned by the Orthodox church, has old trees, and lots of bird life. We take a cabin room for $35 US. It is clean and most of the plumbing works. No frills. We were going to do a wash, but the hotel offers a fair price for laundry, and we will negotiate it tomorrow. We eat dinner in the hotel restaurant, a conical space that is beautifully decorated. The ceiling imitates the interior of a hut, with woven patterns in many colors. We order a goat dish, and a gomen b'sega (greens with meat). As we wait for our mains, we are each served a slice of kita, a corn/wheat pancake that is somewhat sweetened. When our mains arrive, Carol prefer to use the kita in place of the injera. Probably gauche, but what the hey. Tea and beer round out the dinner. Carol saves the remaining kita. There is no in-room TV. Time to sleep.