We looked at each other with very tired expressions but had no other choice. It meant riding back 20km and crossing the one river again then take a northerly direction towards Omorate. This confused the shit out of me, we had to cross these two rivers again, according to my map, and they flow into a bigger river that runs past Omorate. With the language problem I could not ask more questions and had to follow him in good faith.
He rode his little Yamaha off road bike like a real pro and we made good progress on the cattle tracks leading towards Omorate. It was evident that the locals used these tracks to get cattle and goods to and from the Omarate market.
Around 17km before Omorate the man stopped and showed me his tank is empty. We still had no idea how to get to Omorate as these tracks were not on T4A and I could not leave the man there. I gave him my last 2L that were in our jerry cans and hoped for a few more litres in Omarate.
The small town of Omarate is a busy little place with friendly people. We were greeted by the familiar “you, you, you…money, money” that all the other overlanders warned us about. The locals directed us to the local immigration office and a small skinny man came over to greet us. He had to look in a book to see if he can find our names as we might have passed through there previously. It was an old accounting book he paged through, strange how they do things in Ethiopia, and what on earth would our names be in a book that looked like “my drag through the mud” homework book in pre school.
He then stamped our passports with a stamp that could only go to 2010, and then changed the 0 to a 1 with a pen in our passports. We objected as police or other officials were going to give us loads of shit when they see the date have been changed with a pen. He laughed and assured us it would be no problem and in any case the entire Ethiopia is on some old time format and not on the time format the rest of the world use, it is 2003 in Ethiopia now and they do not care what’s on the passport. Well, we can’t argue with that logic and in any case you talk to much, where’s the beer?
Our clothes and boots were soaked with mud water and the sand rubbed our knees red from all the sand stuck between the knee guards.
We were quickly whisked away to the local hotel by a fixer. The policeman that helped us came over for a beer with a friend that reminded me of Crocodile Dundee. He rides a normal 250cc Chinese special better than most KTM riders I have seen ;-).
The room cost us 7USD and had a sand floor. The shower we could use was next door at an additional 15BIRR and how it works is that you stand in tin corrugated enclosure and a guy on a wood stand above you, throws water out of a drum over you!
It looked more like the local brothel, in fact it was the local brothel. We now know because the other rooms next to ours were being used during the night and we were listening to the moans and groans. They were cool to their clients, there were condoms in the corner on the floor, at least safe sex was promoted. We decided to pitch our inner part of the tent outside the room and rather sleep in the tent.
Unfortunately I had a flat to fix on Elsebie’ bike and really first wanted to wash out my socks. The owner brought me a bucket of water and small jug to wash my hands and face. I used it to wash my socks out with the last bit that was left. The next moment the fixer came up to me and told me in a soft voice they use the small bucket for drinking and not so good idea from me to wash my socks in it. Very embarrassed and with a smug grin on my face I stopped the washing and sat back rather drinking a beer.
We were happy to be in Ethiopia. Elsebie did really well with this entire Turkana stretch and I am super proud and impress with her for keeping up with a loaded bike on a stretch that count as a proper ride in any competent rider’s book.
We met Uncle, the resident 3 year old baboon and had local Injera for supper. All in all it was a good party with the locals and good to be in Ethiopia.
Congratulations. You both rock, but especially Elsebie!
Michnus I’m sure Uncle could’ve kept himself busy in that mop for at least a week =)
Epic!!
jislaaik Michnus nou so lekker gelees, mens raak sommer weggevoer!!! mooi bly
Really Michnos & Elsebie ‘my hart was in my mond’ reading this account. love to hear how friendly people generally are. We had our daughter husband children and grand father from England here in SA and they observed the same here.
Damn epic stuff. You should really spend your evening writing a book about the experience. I will definitely buy a signed copy by both riders.
Enjoy and be safe. We (Jameson 3) are leaving for NAM in 3 weeks, just can’t wait!!!
I enjoy following your reports – keep it up. How did you eventually cross the river? Was there a bridge?
Mooi man! Maak my sommer lus vir opklim en ry! Dankie vir die lekker skryf, en fotos!
Hardcore travelling stuff !!!! Wish I was there…
MIch – in photo no 15 – on whose shoulder were you sitting there?
MIch – in photo no 15 – on whose shoulder were you sitting there? (joke)
This trip remains to be very hard and to the core!
hahaha jou grapgat! 🙂
Hi julle – soos altyd, dankie ook vir Turkana 3 – wat vir my net ongelooflik bly is hoe geseënd julle tot dusver is en die oorweldigende vriendelikheid waarvan julle getuig. Geniet die res vandie reis
Hi julle 2,
Update bietjie die planne vir die future.
Where are you storing the bikes and when will you return to carry on with the trip?
Only reading the stories of the remaining 50% of the group is not fun.